Numb3rs drabble series: Shallow
Posted to numb3rs_gen_het, numb3rs_fic, numb3rs100, and savecolby.
Series: Shallow
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing/Characters: Megan/Colby, David, Don/Liz
Rating: R
Word Count: 100 per drabble
Summary: It started off as a competition. It ended up as something else.
Shallow:
Conversation
“No, but seriously, man. She was hot. I mean…”
Megan rolled her eyes.
“What?” Colby demanded.
“Don’t you think it’s just a little bit shallow to be judging women by their cup size?” Megan said pointedly.
“Oh, come on, Megan.” David was grinning. “Are you telling me you’ve never looked at a guy and said, ‘Whoa, no way am I dating that one?’”
Megan held up her hands. “Okay, okay. Point taken. But you know, girls look at other things when they check out guys, too.”
Colby folded his arms, looking dubious.
David snorted. “I got news for you, Reeves. Women can be every bit as shallow as men.”
Challenge
“A challenge?” Megan raised her eyebrows above her shell-framed glasses skeptically, and pushed her chair back from her desk. “Exactly what kind of challenge are we talking about?”
Colby perched himself on the edge of her desk, pulling a ten out of his wallet. “Ten bucks. I bet you ten bucks that I can prove women are just as shallow as men.”
“Ooh.” Liz, passing by the desk, overheard and grinned. “Challenging the profiler to a contest of shallowness. I like it.”
“You want in?” David offered, leaning on the partition between the desks.
Liz’s eyebrows shot up impishly. “Sure.”
Interlude
“A challenge, huh?” Don leaned back in his chair comfortably, lacing his hands behind his head.
“Megan told Sinclair and Granger they were shallow.” Amusement glimmered on Liz’s face. “They think they can prove women are just as bad.” Sliding out of her seat, she straddled Don’s legs playfully, the black lace of her bra tantalizingly close to his face.
“Aw, man, I don’t know about that,” Don said lazily, unlacing his fingers from behind his head. His hands slid around the caramel skin of her waist, drawing her in closer. “I mean, I’m feelin’ pretty shallow right about now.”
Friday Evening
“Okay, okay, okay, I got one.” Megan quieted the group, leaning back in her seat with her drink in hand. “Angelina Jolie.”
There were whistles of approval from the men.
“How about this…” David paused, using his hands for dramatic effect. “Robert Redford.”
“Boo!” Megan threw an ice cube at him. “He’s old!”
Laughter. Amita snuggled closer to Charlie, who tightened his grip around her comfortably. “How about…umm…Shakira?”
“Eh…she’s, you know, she’s all right.” Don shrugged, making a so-so gesture with his hand. “She looked better as a redhead. What?” he added defensively as Liz elbowed him in the ribcage.
Look
So they’d had a few to drink. That was okay. Tomorrow was Saturday; no work.
There’d been a few looks between them, looks they’d never have allowed in the office. That was okay, too. After all, they weren’t working now. She looked good in casual clothes. He looked good in casual clothes. A few looks were allowed. What was more shallow than looking, right?
Her looks were cool, nonchalant. Casually subtle.
His were undisguised interest, burning streaks up her bare legs to the hem of her skirt. Heat rushed into her face, making her heart pound wildly.
Temptation? Megan wondered.
Friday Night
Shirt off. Hair undone, hanging loose on her shoulders.
His hand up her skirt. She never wore skirts. Didn’t know what made her wear one tonight. Glad she did, though, she thought breathlessly.
A searing kiss. Her hands running up his bare back, smooth skin, bunching, rippling muscles under her hands. Unzipping his fly, unbuttoning his jeans. Plaid boxers. Very nice.
She still had her bra on. He fixed that, a muted ripping sound audible over the sound of quiet gasps, arduous breathing.
“Sorry about that.” His voice was husky with sex.
Megan’s mouth on his shut him up quickly.
Saturday Morning
The sun breaking through the curtains he’d forgotten to pull in the excitement of last night woke her up. He was there, propped up on an elbow. Watching her sleep.
She stirred, a hand sliding up the musky warmth of his chest, opening her eyes.
“Well, good morning.” There was a light, amused quality to his voice.
“Morning.” She stretched contentedly. A little shyly.
He moved a hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Comfortably. Intimately. “Want breakfast?”
“Pancakes?” she said hopefully, brightening.
“Pancakes it is.” He bent to kiss her gently, once, on the mouth.
Pancakes
Megan had never been able to stay in bed once she was awake. Sliding out from under the covers, she pulled his shirt over her head, inhaling deeply. It was warm from the sunshine, and hung loosely on her much slenderer body.
She loved the way he smelled, like cologne and man-smell and sun and clean-clothing and sex. Well, maybe he didn’t usually smell like sex.
He was in his boxers, mixing pancake batter. She padded into the kitchen, hair loose around her shoulders, wearing only his t-shirt, and put her arms around his waist.
Colby decided breakfast could wait.
Monday Morning
There was a small box on Megan’s desk, sitting next to her coffee. She eyed it with undisguised curiosity.
There was a bow on it.
It must be important.
Megan tried to be casual as she slid into her seat, adjusting her glasses to read the note attached.
Sorry for the inconvenience, it said.
Intrigue, Megan thought. Untying the ribbon, she opened the box, rifling through the tissue paper.
“Ooh, Megan.” Liz leaned over the partition, her own cup of coffee in hand. “Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer. What is it?”
Megan closed the lid quickly, flushing. “Nothing.”
The Gift
It sat inside the box, nestled demurely in a lining of white tissue paper. Delicate black lace contrasted sharply with the plain white wrapping. Megan stifled a laugh, heat creeping up her collarbones and neck and spreading across her cheekbones.
She glanced over at Colby, seemingly hard at work, absorbed in something on his computer screen.
He was a little too avidly focused. She looked harder, giving him her best profiler’s stare over the frames of her glasses.
Barely veiled amusement hovered around his mouth.
Trying not to laugh, Megan tucked the lacy black bra securely back in its box.
Next bit.
Series: Shallow
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing/Characters: Megan/Colby, David, Don/Liz
Rating: R
Word Count: 100 per drabble
Summary: It started off as a competition. It ended up as something else.
Shallow:
Conversation
“No, but seriously, man. She was hot. I mean…”
Megan rolled her eyes.
“What?” Colby demanded.
“Don’t you think it’s just a little bit shallow to be judging women by their cup size?” Megan said pointedly.
“Oh, come on, Megan.” David was grinning. “Are you telling me you’ve never looked at a guy and said, ‘Whoa, no way am I dating that one?’”
Megan held up her hands. “Okay, okay. Point taken. But you know, girls look at other things when they check out guys, too.”
Colby folded his arms, looking dubious.
David snorted. “I got news for you, Reeves. Women can be every bit as shallow as men.”
Challenge
“A challenge?” Megan raised her eyebrows above her shell-framed glasses skeptically, and pushed her chair back from her desk. “Exactly what kind of challenge are we talking about?”
Colby perched himself on the edge of her desk, pulling a ten out of his wallet. “Ten bucks. I bet you ten bucks that I can prove women are just as shallow as men.”
“Ooh.” Liz, passing by the desk, overheard and grinned. “Challenging the profiler to a contest of shallowness. I like it.”
“You want in?” David offered, leaning on the partition between the desks.
Liz’s eyebrows shot up impishly. “Sure.”
Interlude
“A challenge, huh?” Don leaned back in his chair comfortably, lacing his hands behind his head.
“Megan told Sinclair and Granger they were shallow.” Amusement glimmered on Liz’s face. “They think they can prove women are just as bad.” Sliding out of her seat, she straddled Don’s legs playfully, the black lace of her bra tantalizingly close to his face.
“Aw, man, I don’t know about that,” Don said lazily, unlacing his fingers from behind his head. His hands slid around the caramel skin of her waist, drawing her in closer. “I mean, I’m feelin’ pretty shallow right about now.”
Friday Evening
“Okay, okay, okay, I got one.” Megan quieted the group, leaning back in her seat with her drink in hand. “Angelina Jolie.”
There were whistles of approval from the men.
“How about this…” David paused, using his hands for dramatic effect. “Robert Redford.”
“Boo!” Megan threw an ice cube at him. “He’s old!”
Laughter. Amita snuggled closer to Charlie, who tightened his grip around her comfortably. “How about…umm…Shakira?”
“Eh…she’s, you know, she’s all right.” Don shrugged, making a so-so gesture with his hand. “She looked better as a redhead. What?” he added defensively as Liz elbowed him in the ribcage.
Look
So they’d had a few to drink. That was okay. Tomorrow was Saturday; no work.
There’d been a few looks between them, looks they’d never have allowed in the office. That was okay, too. After all, they weren’t working now. She looked good in casual clothes. He looked good in casual clothes. A few looks were allowed. What was more shallow than looking, right?
Her looks were cool, nonchalant. Casually subtle.
His were undisguised interest, burning streaks up her bare legs to the hem of her skirt. Heat rushed into her face, making her heart pound wildly.
Temptation? Megan wondered.
Friday Night
Shirt off. Hair undone, hanging loose on her shoulders.
His hand up her skirt. She never wore skirts. Didn’t know what made her wear one tonight. Glad she did, though, she thought breathlessly.
A searing kiss. Her hands running up his bare back, smooth skin, bunching, rippling muscles under her hands. Unzipping his fly, unbuttoning his jeans. Plaid boxers. Very nice.
She still had her bra on. He fixed that, a muted ripping sound audible over the sound of quiet gasps, arduous breathing.
“Sorry about that.” His voice was husky with sex.
Megan’s mouth on his shut him up quickly.
Saturday Morning
The sun breaking through the curtains he’d forgotten to pull in the excitement of last night woke her up. He was there, propped up on an elbow. Watching her sleep.
She stirred, a hand sliding up the musky warmth of his chest, opening her eyes.
“Well, good morning.” There was a light, amused quality to his voice.
“Morning.” She stretched contentedly. A little shyly.
He moved a hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Comfortably. Intimately. “Want breakfast?”
“Pancakes?” she said hopefully, brightening.
“Pancakes it is.” He bent to kiss her gently, once, on the mouth.
Pancakes
Megan had never been able to stay in bed once she was awake. Sliding out from under the covers, she pulled his shirt over her head, inhaling deeply. It was warm from the sunshine, and hung loosely on her much slenderer body.
She loved the way he smelled, like cologne and man-smell and sun and clean-clothing and sex. Well, maybe he didn’t usually smell like sex.
He was in his boxers, mixing pancake batter. She padded into the kitchen, hair loose around her shoulders, wearing only his t-shirt, and put her arms around his waist.
Colby decided breakfast could wait.
Monday Morning
There was a small box on Megan’s desk, sitting next to her coffee. She eyed it with undisguised curiosity.
There was a bow on it.
It must be important.
Megan tried to be casual as she slid into her seat, adjusting her glasses to read the note attached.
Sorry for the inconvenience, it said.
Intrigue, Megan thought. Untying the ribbon, she opened the box, rifling through the tissue paper.
“Ooh, Megan.” Liz leaned over the partition, her own cup of coffee in hand. “Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer. What is it?”
Megan closed the lid quickly, flushing. “Nothing.”
The Gift
It sat inside the box, nestled demurely in a lining of white tissue paper. Delicate black lace contrasted sharply with the plain white wrapping. Megan stifled a laugh, heat creeping up her collarbones and neck and spreading across her cheekbones.
She glanced over at Colby, seemingly hard at work, absorbed in something on his computer screen.
He was a little too avidly focused. She looked harder, giving him her best profiler’s stare over the frames of her glasses.
Barely veiled amusement hovered around his mouth.
Trying not to laugh, Megan tucked the lacy black bra securely back in its box.
Next bit.