Title: The Paddle Team
Authors: listmembers of CS Insanity Central - as listed for each chapter
Chapter Sixteen by Clary Sage
Wufei was slightly delirious, and he was almost ready to admit it to himself, but not just yet. One -for a split second he wondered why he always had to number his choices- he had the lovely dizzy sensation of being tied up and virtually forced to make out with a gorgeous man. On the other hand, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening to Duo, where the other members of the team were, why he enjoying this so much, and how exactly was the general's tongue doing that?
He decided to go with the one, and ignore the other, seeing as how the tongue currently favouring him was much more interesting. "Mmm," he mumbled, completely at a loss for words.
Treize pulled away from the kiss, "I'm sorry, what, my lovely.. tulip?" he winced slightly, looking thoughtful for a moment, "er, butterfly?" he shook his head, trying again, "lily root?"
"..." Wufei was nearly out of his delirium, his scowl remembering its place and hastily reconnoitring.
"Peanut Pie?" Treize tried hopefully, "Sweetdidums? Honeybear? Loveball?"
The scowl was quickly becoming a glare of doom; Wufei's senses rushing back with a vengeance and about to wreak havoc.
"Snap Dragon?"
A twitch.
"Dragon?" Treize purred, relief flashing across his face, as the thunderclouds seemed to clear.
Within seconds, their lips were glued once more together, tongues duelling like a pair of feisty swords, and Treize's hands again went on an information-gathering mission. Soon after Wufei's senses kindly took their leave, and went out for coffee together, glad to be on vacation at last. Wufei's body taking completely over, relieved to finally be in charge of the whole place for a change, and throwing itself into the job with gusto.
His legs again wrapped firmly around the general's waist, one foot resting snugly against the small of Treize's back, and the other tucked precariously against his side. His fingers went on forays into the ginger hair, the tips of them tingling slightly from too much contact at once. His lips, well, his lips remained rather busy, even once Treize left them in pursuit of more intimate places to kiss. Only then, they moaned, pleaded, growled, and once, what sounded suspiciously like a "quack" was heard echoing through the warehouse.
Chapter Seventeen by WingNut
Trowa eased the door of the warehouse open, and the three PaddleTeam members slipped inside, splitting up immediately. He went right, Heero went left, and Quatre eased up the middle.
He found cover behind some bales of peat moss, and peeked cautiously around them to survey the rest of the large space. He looked first for his team mates, spotting Heero's head just appearing over the edge of what looked like a laboratory worktable, and Quatre...
Trowa blinked. Quatre was standing stock still about two steps from the door, making no attempt to hide, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at something directly ahead of him.
Trowa whipped his head around and felt his own jaw drop.
Wufei was... was... he was... well, he certainly wasn't as hetero as he had always said!!!!
Wufei was hanging from his bound hands, butt-naked. Butt-rather-pinked-and-naked. Butt-rather-pinked-naked-and-currently-being-impaled, as a matter of fact.
Trowa considered. Wufei was moaning and growling, but he didn't sound upset. Actually, he sounded rather pleased. Excited, even. Eager, in point of fact, as he was urging his lover to a faster rhythm with the aid of bronzed heels planted firmly against the other's backside.
Completely ignoring the PaddleTeam, or perhaps not even noticing them, the ginger-haired man currently ravishing the obviously willing Wufei reached up and, with a quick twist, released the Chinese man's wrists. With Wufei's arms now wrapped around his shoulders, he turned and staggered a couple of steps to another worktable, and, steadying that pinked-and-naked butt against the firm surface, began to thrust harder and deeper.
A motion out of the corner of his eye attracted Trowa's attention. Heero was standing up, using the silent hand signals they had developed. "Danger contained."
Trowa nearly laughed out loud. Sorely tempted to continue watching Wufei 'contain danger' over and over again, Trowa nevertheless checked his side of the warehouse for other hostiles. Nothing.
He signalled an "All Clear" back to Heero, who nodded sharply and signalled back, "I will search for other captives" before turning and slipping out the back door.
Ahhhh, Trowa smirked to himself. No wonder Heero had been ignoring the otherwise fascinating show right in front of him - he was still thinking of the bewitching GreenThumb.
Lips still twitching slightly, Trowa walked to an enthralled Quatre, who was now tilting his head and craning his neck for a better view. He slid one hand across the team leader's belly and down to his groin, the other over his shoulder, across his collarbone and up to his jaw to tilt his head over farther.
Trowa dropped his mouth to the pulse beating erratically in Quatre's neck, massaging the hard bulge in the blond's pants at the same time. Quatre moaned softly and shivered, but murmured, "From the insignia on this one's jacket, he's likely the leader of the Rose Brigade. I'll question him in a moment - it would be a shame to interrupt Wufei right now."
"Mm-hm," Trowa shifted slightly, nipping a trail up Quatre's neck to his ear. "Then I'll go back up Heero. No telling how many other enemies might be out there."
Trowa turned away reluctantly. He spotted what was obviously Duo's green jumpsuit hanging from an overhead beam, and a pile of dirt beneath it, complete with bare footprints. He frowned to himself. If the members of the Rose Brigade were doing to GreenThumb what their leader was currently doing to Wufei...
He hurried after Heero.
Duo shivered as a wet tongue made its way leisurely up his throat.
"*Still* cold?" an amused and husky voice asked in his ear. Long strong arms were wrapped around him, holding him firmly against Zechs' warm torso.
"Ummmm... no, not really," Duo said, wriggling happily. Even though he was still naked, and his hair slightly damp, he was feeling nice and cosy. Zechs had stripped down to his breeches and boots to wash Duo's hair, but he didn't seem to be suffering from cold either - in fact, he looked a little flushed.
Zechs chuckled. "Perhaps I should make sure." He began to rub his large hands over Duo's skin, caressing his shoulders, back, waist, hips, thighs, and finally - finally! - his squirming ass.
GreenThumb would have made an approving comment at this point, but Zechs was continuing his noble work with a mouth-to-mouth oral massage. Duo melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the tall blond's broad shoulders. Now *this* was the proper way to warm someone up!!
Duo was vaguely aware of a sound close by - like a throat being cleared, or perhaps a growl - and then a deadly quiet voice said "So, GreenThumb, you are in league with the Rose Brigade."
Two levels down, in the hydroponics lab below the warehouse, Chief Genetic Engineer Tuberov hovered casually by his most successful hybrid rosebush. He was trying to ignore those annoying psychotic sycophants, Alex and Mueller, who were loitering by the door. All three were pretending that they weren't eavesdropping on the conversation taking place in the hallway just outside.
"Well?" Colonel Une prompted, her tone steely.
Noin bit her lip. It wasn't right. She knew that, yet...
She lowered her eyes, ashamed of the wave of longing that swept over her. "Very well."
Colonel Une smiled, coldly. "Excellent." The lights in the lab flashed off her glasses as she stepped forward and pressed into Noin's reluctant hand what was surely the most dangerous object in the known universe...
A potato.
Chapter Eighteen by Clary Sage
Wufei's mind was as far from potatoes as it was possible to be. Though, if he were to have managed to think of something other than the man currently screwing him into the next millennium, he probably would have thought of a rather phallicly shaped tuber. As it was, he did briefly picture a cucumber, but that -as is known- is not even a member of the potato family.
The man, who was in fact bending Wufei double and pounding him silly, was also specifically not thinking of a potato. Actually, he was thinking of roses, as he was wont to do when buried inside something remarkably similar to a rosebud.
Neither was aware of the swaying and entranced blond, who was standing off a few feet and wondering just how many times they could climax without stopping. Quatre sorely wished he'd remembered to bring a camera of some sort, and had patted himself down several times in the hope of turning up one. But so far, nothing had turned up except for the excruciatingly erect phallicly shaped organ in his pants. Which also had *no* relation to a potato. Or a piano for that matter. Though, it did vaguely resemble a flute. Which in turn reminded Quatre of Trowa. For instance, where *was* Trowa anyway?
Trowa had in point of fact been enjoying the view, up until a few short seconds ago, when Heero had broken up the lovefest and baldy stated his personal observations of the scene. But Trowa had underestimated the power of GreenThumb; the emerald-eyed plant lover merely turning in the embrace of the tall blond, and raising an eyebrow.
Heero was dumbfounded; he expected a hot rebuke, a shouted denial, certainly not puzzled indifference. "Well," he fumbled for a moment, "you are, aren't you?"
"Um, no" GreenThumb looked slightly embarrassed for a moment, "but I do enjoy the name," he smiled and turned again, grinning up at the quietly observing blond, "It's kind of sexy, actually."
"Well, admittedly we weren't thinking of sexy when we chose it," the man answered, flashing a winning smile, and absently caressing one still bare bun. Duo let out a tiny squeak and flushed a pretty pink colour.
"OH, this is Zechs, by the way," GreenThumb mumbled happily, giving Heero a languorous glance from beneath half-masted eyelids. He was thinking quickly, or trying to, though Zechs' wandering hand was becoming increasingly distracting by the moment. But GreenThumb hoped that if all went well, he'd have two sets of hands on him in the next few minutes.
Just then several things happened at once, Trowa stepped out from around a hedge, Heero let out a yell and tackled Zechs to the ground, and the not so dormant rose bushes burst into bloom, sweet smelling flowers seemingly coming from everywhere at once.
Duo, who'd been taken by surprise by everything but the roses, backed up and eyed the rolling and grunting men on the ground. So far, no actual punches were being thrown, Heero and Zechs merely wrestling and growling at one another. Neither noticed the steadily creeping rose vines. GreenThumb grinned, concentrating for a moment. The vines entwined carefully around the legs of the combatants, slithering slowly up and over, until within moments the grunting and fighting men were reduced to nothing more than a green wrapped bundle, with the occasional rose sticking out. But, they'd stopped fighting.
"Um, Duo?" a voice asked hesitantly from within the rose-wrapped package.
"Yes?"
"Could you let us out of this?" Zechs' voice asked pleadingly.
"No,"
"Why not?" Heero whined, and Duo could see one hand feebly waving from the roses.
"Because, there's no need for you two to fight, and this way you have no choice but to stop," Duo said calmly, noticing Trowa for the first time and smiling at him in greeting.
Trowa nodded in return, trying not to grin at the two men on the ground. "Wufei is distracting the other one, Quatre's keeping an eye on them," he informed Duo, raising one finely shaped eyebrow at Duo's still damp hair.
GreenThumb blushed, raising a hand to his hair, "that man," he said, pointing at the lump of Zechs (who'd gone curiously quiet beneath the roses) "is a hair care genius!"
Heero moaned something that sounded like agreement, the hand that had been sticking out twitching a bit.
Meanwhile, back in the warehouse, a rather surprised Quatre watched as the interior of the warehouse quickly became draped in roses. Though Wufei and the ginger-haired man seemed not to notice. Quatre had no idea Wufei could be so flexible, he tilted his head to one side, trying to get a better view of the action.
Wufei was on all fours, hands clawing at the floor, mouth open and howling, one leg was bent backwards and being held up, the other was spread wide, braced firmly against the ground.
Quatre was almost positive no one could remain in that position for long, though, he'd also been positive no one could actually even get into that position. But then, Wufei was just full of surprises today. Like that bizarre quacking sound he'd made earlier, or the fact that apparently Wufei was so suppressed sexually, that he could go for hours without stopping. Hetero one indeed, Quatre let out a tiny giggle at the thought.
[TBC]
Chapter Nineteen by WingNut
Heero had reacted instinctively when he saw Zechs caressing Greenthumb, tackling the taller man away from the delicious nymph. They had rolled and wrestled, until they had been wrapped, trapped, in twisting roses. He had only stopped straining against the immoveable greenery when it became obvious that all his strength would not help him.
Zechs must have come to the same conclusion, for his long body relaxed, and he diffidently asked Greenthumb to release them. At this point, Heero realized that Zechs was now draped half on top of him, one lean thigh pressing between his own.
He had managed to get one hand free, but he couldn't get enough purchase to rip the roses away from his body... and the stalks were getting bolder, pressing against him, covering his eyes, rustling across his chest, sliding up his legs, creeping inside the back of his pants - no, wait, that one was Zechs' hand.
Heero gritted his teeth and tried to demand "Why not?" when Duo refused to let them go, but his voice came out higher and breathier than normal. Of course, by then he was so distracted that he never did hear the answer...
The hand down his pants was slowly exploring him, caressing him... and he could do nothing in return. Duo already had a good idea of his strength and determination, and had obviously directed the majority of the roses to restrain him. Heero had always been a man of action, and being forced to lie still and accept these admittedly arousing caresses without being able to reject, or refuse, or...
"Yesss..." he heard himself moan softly.
All right, he admitted to himself, what really bothered him was being unable to *respond* to the increasingly intimate fondling.
Zechs chuckled softly next to his ear. "I'd much rather fuck you than fight you. Although wrestling *does* have its good points..."
Heero gasped as his earlobe was suddenly sucked into a warm wet mouth. He shivered, and pressed his hips up a bit, rubbing against the strong thigh between his legs. He hoped Zechs had a bit more range of movement than he did...
Noin carefully peeled the potato as the oil heated.
French fries ought to do it, she decided. It would look too suspicious if she turned up with a dollop of mashed potatoes. French fries would look... innocent.
She sighed. No matter how she looked at it, this was still wrong. But Une supported the idea of a test and...
She sighed again. She didn't like using Zechs as a guinea pig, but when Une had said the potato could render anyone vulnerable to suggestion, her thoughts had flown to the tall, blond, impossibly handsome man who had haunted her dreams for years.
Zechs had never shown any romantic interest in her, so if he could be persuaded to make love with her, then they would know the chemical worked.
And the fact that it would fulfill her fondest wish was a complete coincidence.
Really.
"Please!"
"You'll just have to wait, Dragon," Treize chuckled as he eased back further, holding Wufei's wrists captive over his head.
"Aaaahhhhh! I... can't! Please! Now!" Wufei, bent face down over the table, tried to lift his hips to bring his lover deeper inside, but the ginger-haired general merely mirrored his movements, backing up and away.
Quatre, one hand now patting down inside the front of his pants just in case he had left some stray surveillance equipment in his boxers, frowned. Really, it was rather rude of the general to ignore his lover's polite requests like that. And Wufei had said 'please,' which for the cranky Chinese was a great concession.
Perhaps it was time to teach the leader of the Rose Brigade that a little more consideration was due to a member of the PaddleTeam.
Treize smirked to himself. He was very glad he had studied those Tantric scrolls Zechs had found, otherwise he doubted he would have been able to last quite so long. He would tease his Dragon just a little longer before he gave him what they both so obviously wanted.
*SMACK*
Treize felt a smart slap across his upraised buttocks. He lurched forward with a startled yip that melted into a satisfied groan as his motion impaled his lover deeply. He withdrew again almost as quickly, looking back over his shoulder to see who had so impertinently assaulted him.
He was somewhat disconcerted to see a unfamiliar young blond man - dressed in a leather outfit similar to Wufei's - holding a quirt in one hand and fondling an impressive erection in the other.
"He did ask you nicely," the blond pointed out, his tone almost contrite.
Treize's legendary imperturbability came to the fore, letting him show an unruffled expression to his unexpected assailant. "So he did, but I am under no obligation to indulge him."
*SMACK*
He could see the stinging blow coming, but unless he wanted to release Wufei's wrists and straighten up, he could do nothing to avoid it. Again his body reacted, and he thrust deeply into his partner, pulling back with a touch of annoyance almost immediately afterward.
"I assure you," Treize said with a trace of lofty irritation, "I will give him what he needs, if not exactly what he asks."
*SMACK*
"But it's arrogant to assume that you know what he needs," the blond man said earnestly, "especially since he's only told you what he wants in the most basic terms."
He raised an elegant eyebrow. "And yet you assume that you know what is best for hi-"
*SMACK*
Treize gasped slightly. No one had ever had the temerity to actually strike him before. Yet here was a complete stranger, spanking him as if he were naughty and needing lessons in manners.
The truly aggravating thing was that he couldn't seem to control his automatic response to each slap of that braided leather. Each and every time, he thrust forward, too late to avoid the blow, burying himself to the root in his writhing, groaning lover.
Tantric methods of control or not, he was finding the combination of sensations very exciting.
"It will do no good, you know," he said, striving to project his voice evenly. "I will not climax until *I* decide to."
When the expected smack failed to materialize, Treize looked over his shoulder again, stifling an unexpected feeling of disappointment.
The little blond was frowning thoughtfully. Then he smiled, and Treize became very afraid.
"If it's just a matter of stimulation, I'm sure I can help you achieve orgasm," he said cheerfully. He swung his quirt around and began to unscrew the base.
Treize felt a little shiver work its way up his spine. He recognized the little whip now for what it was -not a riding crop for horses, but a camel quirt. Most camels were stubborn beasts, and he had seen quirts which had a sharp steel prod built into the handle to encourage them to move. Surely this demonic little blond wouldn't dare...
Quatre hummed a little tune as he separated the base of the quirt. He pulled the handle away, revealing not a standard camel prod, but a smooth, wavy piece of wood - like a series of slightly squashed balls joined in a line.
He removed the probe from the base and admired it in the light for a moment before reassembling his quirt. He really needed to call Rashid and thank him again for this exquisitely thoughtful gift.
Still humming, he broke off a few rose leaves and smeared the resulting sap on the slender piece of wood. Perfect.
Smiling angelically, he turned back to the General.
Wufei slowly came out of his erotic daze to realize that not only was Quatre witnessing his abrupt change in orientation, but he was apparently preparing to participate. If it could possibly encourage his captor to finally orgasm, Wufei was all for it. Not that he hadn't enjoyed himself thoroughly, but...
With a sinuous move, the Chinese man jerked his wrists out of Treize's shock-loosened grasp, twisting around to capture the General's hands. Then he arched his spine, spreading and lifting his legs until he could wrap them around his partner's hips. Finally he dug his heels into Treize's firm buttocks, slowly spreading them.
Quatre smiled appreciatively as he approached, quirt in one hand, probe in the other. "Thank you, Wufei," the team leader said politely. "That will help a great deal."
Wufei smirked, amused to discover that being hentai was... kind of fun.
Chapter Twenty by Moon Faery
GreenThumb Duo watched avidly as the vines moved, moaned and shifted around into interesting, viny shapes. He played with a long lock of his hair as he watched, absently letting it fall through his fingers and brush over the skin on the inside of his wrist, his eyes never leaving the large bundle of sexiness that was Heero and Zechs. It was almost as if he was waiting for something.
Trowa found himself torn between watching GreenThumb and watching the vine-covered bundles which was Heero and the Rose Brigade Colonel. Both were entrancing in their own ways.
Just as Trowa made up his mind to watch Duo, someone swept past him like some obsessed wind, bowling GreenThumb over into Trowa, who barely managed not to fall himself as the long haired mutant crashed into him. Whatever it was glomped onto the vines, clinging for all it was worth. Trowa's nose caught a vague scent of... McDonalds?
"Colonel Zechs!" Once the unidentified being stopped moving, Trowa was able to identify it as a female, presumably human, but after the way she had practically run Duo over he wasn't so sure. How she knew that Zechs was in the vines Trowa could barely begin to guess, except for the possibility that she was part bloodhound.
The pile of greenery paused in its movements. The constricting vines loosened slightly as some of them snaked their way over to Duo and Trowa and set GreenThumb back on his feet. There was a muffled complaint from somewhere within it that sounded vaguely like Heero's voice.
"Noin?" The pile started rustling as Zechs tried to again to work his way out of the bindings. "What are you-MMPH!" The rustling was cut off suddenly.
"Colonel, I made you lunch!" the obviously rabid fangirl Noin chirped, pulling the greenery aside carefully with one hand while the other balanced a plate of food, specifically a hamburger and French fries.
Zechs' voice sounded faintly breathless. "Noin, while that's very thoughtful of you and I'm -squeak-TOUCHED!, I'm a little bus- not there!" He trailed off into a moan, which did nothing to mask the distinctly evil chuckle coming from beneath him.
Colonel Une walked through the halls of the Hydroponics Laboratories, peering through windows at various projects. None of them were ready to test yet, but it made sense to only test one dangerous organic chemical compound at a time. Unfortunately, Une wasn't exactly what most people would call sensible, so she spent a good deal of her time exhorting the workers to faster efforts.
"Colonel," one particularly brave (or suicidal) scientist protested. "If we do not take our time, who knows what mistakes we'll make!" He tweaked his mustache nervously. Behind him, his various assistants pretended to be busy. "For example, Project 6x01-03-02 is so incredibly unstable, there's almost a fifty percent chance of failure. That damned potato could be anything from an organically grown mutagen to the most powerful aphrodisiac known to mankind! Or BOTH! If you had just given us more time-"
"You had plenty of time!"
The good scientist tried another angle, unfortunately not recognizing a psycho when he argued with one. "Colonel, the risks of testing such an unstable compound without more tests are prohibitive to-"
Once again, he was cut off before finishing his argument. "There are no excuses!" Une snapped, eyes cold. "We have one month before Mr. Trieze is... no longer accessible, maybe even less due to recent developments. This project will be complete by then, or I'll have all of your heads."
Her eyes narrowed, glinting with something that would have looked less out-of-place on a convicted stalker. "Both of them!" And with that she stalked out of the Hydroponics Labs. An evil giggle carried back to the frightened workers, as well as the strangely combined melodies of Taps and Here Comes the Bride.
By the fountain, Duo and Trowa were making an effort remove Noin from Zechs and Heero, but they weren't having very much luck. The girl must have had suckers on her hands and feet; not only did she not budge, but she also didn't spill even a single fry. Somehow, she had managed to reveal Zechs' white-gold head, and was trying to force feed him a piece of deep fried artery hardener known as a French fry, though why they were called that when they were neither French nor really flammable was a mystery. Duo considered using his vines to remove her, but there were only so many vines available, and he couldn't grow more without straining the plant's resources.
"Please, Colonel? Just try one fry?" she pleaded, eyes large and watery in a way that shouldn't have looked adorable on a fully grown woman.
Heero looked out from where he was trapped, eyeing the woman balefully. Wriggling slightly, he patted around, looking for his hairbrush, muttering under his breath. "Where is it..?" He had every intention of killing, or at least severely maiming, the woman who had interrupted them. Finding something that felt vaguely like the handle of his brush, he grabbed it.
Above him, Zechs gasped and jerked up, eyes wide. "That's NOT IT!" he moaned. Noin took advantage of it to shove a fry down the blonde's throat, not even noticing that the rest of the plate had been knocked off balance and had been saved only by a reflexive move by Trowa, who dived to catch it even as Zechs swallowed the fry automatically.
The top bun of the hamburger was knocked a little askew, but otherwise it survived its brief experience with air travel admirably. The French fries glistened with oil, and little grains that must have been salt. They were perfect, a little too perfect in fact.
Curiously, Trowa picked up one and sniffed it, opening his mouth to voice his suspicions just as GreenThumb Duo finally managed to pry Noin off of Heero and Zechs. The mutant and the fangirl Lieutenant fell backwards, jostling Trowa. His hand jerked as he was sent tumbling, shoving the fry in his mouth.
Noin frown at GreenThumb, who let go of her almost as if she was sick with something horribly contagious before they even stopped rolling. There was something vaguely insulting in the action that she couldn't quite place her finger on. But he was dismissed from her thoughts as a startled exclamation of mixed shock and bliss came from the blond Colonel who was trapped in the vines.
[TBC]
Chapter Twenty-One by Bad Momma
Trowa thoughtfully chewed the unwelcome intrusion and was surprised. He'd expected it to be overly greasy, but it was crisp and light, the potato taste accentuated and the saltiness just right. He was considering having another when GT Duo leaned over him and plucked the fry from his fingers.
He shivered slightly as he chewed. "Eeeeww, that chick gives me the willies!" Swallowing the fry, he lightly patted his exposed belly, "Man! I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I saw you guys eating these things. You don't think the Colonel over there will mind do you?"
Both men turned to see said Colonel, slowing chewing his own fry, eyes closed in seeming appreciation of the starchy fare.
"Geez, these are great, mind if we split 'em Tro?" Duo, who settled himself on the ground next to Trowa, was just reaching for another handful of the delectable potato treats - and unabashedly rubbing up against the other man, a guy's gotta try you know! - when an intense moan was heard from the writhing bundle of vines and men just a few feet away. "Oh, I guess he's not concentrating on eating that fry is he?" he chuckled. The slightly loosened vines gave them a fairly good picture of what was happening. Both men made themselves comfy with the plate of food to closely watch the goings on.
In the midst of the bundle, Heero was still testing his grip on the 'handle' in his possession, and based on the sounds that Zechs was making, it definitely wasn't the brush. While observing his victim, he noticed that a flying fry had landed on the vines just under Zech's neck and Heero's eye was drawn to the adam's apple just past it.
He formulated a plan. He could pretend to be going for the French fry and 'accidentally' miss it, thereby placing his mouth right on that ever so enticing stretch of throat. He crunched his stomach muscles in an effort to raise his head... just another inch and....
Noin stood and quickly assessed the situation, it occurred to her that perhaps the potato was working. Surely, it must be an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac to be affecting the Colonel before he'd even finished swallowing, but hey, who was she to complain. Now she just needed to position herself to be in his line of sight when he opened his eyes. To her utter shock, she saw his eyelashes flutter. Damn, if she didn't act quickly, all their plans would be for naught. If Zechs opened his eyes and saw that strange blue-eyed, leather clad boy and not her first, then the months of experimentation would be down the drain. Not to mention that Une would have a major cow. 'I've only got one month left. Just one more month to go! We need to test the product!' the voice in her head mimicked the psychotic Lt. Colonel.
Her mind made up, she advanced on the bundle of vines again. Just as she was getting there the blue-eyed boy appeared to be reaching open-mouthed towards her silvery knight. She dove between them and the force of the impact rolled the pair - now a trio - onto their sides, her head landing conveniently between the other two. Unfortunately...
Zechs opened his eyes to a rather disheartening sight. Hair. Dark hair. Blue-black, short, wavy hair. Nicely groomed and styled, but still... damn that woman, he thought, and here I thought I could finally get something going with 'young, dark and surly'.
So distracted was he by the hair in his face that he momentarily forgot about the hand very firmly wrapped around him. Only just momentarily. That hand was now squeezing the very life out of him, and what an iron grip indeed! He surmised that the sudden appearance of what could only be his slightly annoying, though adoring, junior officer was the cause of the death grip. 'Hmm, if I wiggle just a little this way... ooh yeah... I think the merits of such a grip definitely deserve more observation... very soon.' His libidinous thoughts were rather rudely interrupted by the aforementioned junior officer, who had now turned to face him.
"Colonel Zechs, sir! Look at me! Sir!"
"Noin" he coolly replied, "do you think you could remove your person from it's current po - oh -sition."
Damn that hand was good! Leaning briefly to one side and shifting hips - to accommodate the move of course, he eyed the owner of the hand who was smirking back at him. He dreamily addressed the other, "Good sir, if you could - mmh - cease that activity for just a mmm-moment, I'll be with you again shortly."
"JUST a moment." Was the sly reply that accompanied a parting squeeze? The hand, however, did not wander far as it innocently began massaging his hip.
Zechs found himself once again staring at Noin, her hands on his face insuring that.
"Colonel! Colonel, please sir, look at me! I have to check to see if you've been injured, sir! You could have a slight concussion, you might have some nasty abrasions. Let me see your eyes, sir! Please, look right into my eyes, sir! It's imperative!" She was getting nervous, what if he'd looked at the boy when she wasn't looking, maybe while that long haired freak was distracting her. Oh God! First the General and now leather-boy. What was the world coming to?
The Colonel was mildly confused by his junior's odd behavior. "Noin, I think it's very apparent that I have not experienced any of the previously mentioned afflictions. As you can see I'm quite lucid and quite in control of myself. As a matter of fact, I think it is you who is suffering an unknown affliction, as you have evidently taken it upon yourself to interrupt my rather - delicate - negotiations with this young man. I order you to report to Sickbay immediately and stay there until I come and dismiss you."
She stared at him, looking unsure. "Now, Lieutenant!" he growled. That did it, unable to ignore a direct order, she was off in a blur.
The sudden appearance of the rabid fangirl-officer in their line of sight so startled GT Duo that he jumped and landed right in Trowa's lap. At least that was his story and he was sticking to it. Trowa, never one to turn down such a pleasant surprise, slipped his arms around the shivering plant lover.
"Don't worry, Duo" he cooed in the green-eyed one's ear, "I'm right here..." a hand slid lasciviously up the exposed ribcage to pull him closer, "I'll protect you." His other hand was gently removing twigs and leaves from the oh-so-recently washed hair as it hung loosely around the two of them now, then he gently blew a bit of dust from the long haired boy's shoulder.
Wiggling to get a little more action, I mean, comfortable, Duo smiled sweetly as he replied. "Thanks Trowa, you guys have been so good to me. No hard feelings about that thing at the Zoo, right?" Then he batted his eyelashes and turned on the charm. Damn, he really needed to get something going with SOMEONE! Hopefully, he wouldn't be interrupted again.
Elsewhere in the halls of the Rose Brigade Headquarters, Private Johnson was headed towards Lt. Colonel Une's office. Only slightly distracted by the odd grunts and exclamations coming from the other end of the building, he was contemplating how to survive his current assignment. When he and Private Peters had been caught, literally, out of uniform, he'd thought that working guard duty in the lab was preferable to kitchen duty. But his luck seemed to be getting worse. It wasn't bad enough that he saw psycho-Colonel ten times a day when she went to check on the scientists' progress, but now he had to deliver the most damning message to her. He could already hear her mumbling from half way down the hall.
It seemed to be her mantra nowadays. He wasn't exactly sure what was supposed to happen in a month. He'd even gone online to see if there was some foreign holiday she planned to observe that he was not aware of, but he'd had no luck there either. Maybe the Brigade was planning a strike. He hoped he was back in good graces by then because it would suck to be left behind, unless of course Peters was left behind, too.
A few mere feet from her doorway, he stopped and considered his options again.
He couldn't just NOT deliver the message. What if the mutated vegetable played an important role in their upcoming strike? He had to deliver it. But, if he could avoid actually, personally, delivering the message, maybe he'd survive. He could always scribble it on a piece of paper and slip it under her door. Nah, he had nothing to write with. She'd been a bit more psycho than usual on her last few visits. It was only natural that the poor lab assistant had been so nervous that he hadn't double checked which specimen he'd given her earlier in the day. The poor guy! He was only trying to help by getting her out of the lab as quickly as possible. It wasn't his fault that one of the old coots had accidentally placed the 'control' specimen in the spot designated for the 'mutated' specimen.
Oh well, it had only been a couple of hours since they'd taken the wrong potato - a normal, run of the mill, grocery store style potato - surely whatever testing was being performed could be duplicated without much trouble.
Oh well, better to get it over with, he approached her door once again and resigned himself to his fate.
Chapter Twenty-Two by WingNut
Treize considered. He was pretty much immobilized - his hands held captive, his hips imprisoned between strong thighs, his cock buried deeply inside his slightly squirming lover. About the only thing he would change was the way said lover was also digging his heels into Treize's ass, spreading his cheeks apart.
Even that wouldn't be a problem if he weren't also being approached by the polite, rather diminutive, yet - Treize hardly dared admit it to himself - slightly scary leader of the PaddleTeam, who was holding a rather large probe in his hand.
Treize smiled slightly. He had planned a thousand battles against botanical pests. He was the revered leader of the Rose Brigade. He was accustomed to being in control at all times, and he resolved that he would not be caught so easily.
Instead of struggling, he leaned forward and licked a wet, warm line up his Dragon's spine, over the little indentations and bumps that recent experience had shown him were quite sensitive. A swiftly indrawn breath and an inadvertent tightening of internal muscles were the only obvious reactions, but they were more than enough to release the rigid tension in his lover's arms.
Quickly he drew his hands together, crossing his arms as if he were hugging his lover - while being careful to make no move to escape - and began massaging and stroking his way up his Dragon's biceps.
One of the blond's warm, gentle hands was fondling and stroking his own flank. He almost purred with pleasure, but caught himself in time. He would have to hurry, before he decided that he was enjoying himself too much to care if he lost control.
He moved his hands up just a little higher - and abruptly initiated the impossible-to-resist Armpit Tickle Attack. Dragon squeaked in a completely undignified way and instinctively tried to curl up into a ball, releasing his leg-lock without a second thought.
As soon as his hips were freed, Treize scooped up his lover and whirled around, sitting down protectively on the lab table which his Dragon had so recently been spread over. He squirmed back quickly until the edge of the table hit the insides of his knees - no sense taking any chances! He smirked at the little blond over the bronze shoulder of his 'prisoner', who was now curled up in his lap, still deliciously impaled.
Quatre pouted.
One moment he was happily contemplating the uses to which he could finally put his beautiful wooden toy - he had never actually used it yet - and the next his nicely presented target had been whisked away and was being safely sat upon.
"Wufei," he said, disappointed, "you let him go."
Wufei lifted his head, peeking up at him with shame in his eyes. "I was weak," he admitted. Then a little glint appeared in those obsidian depths, and Chinese man slowly smiled. "But I didn't actually 'let him go...'"
Quatre frown disappeared as Wufei slowly lifted his hips, a look of thoughtful concentration on his face. Beneath him, the leader of the Rose Brigade suddenly bit his lower lip, but couldn't stop a groan of pleasure from emerging.
With growing assurance, Wufei settled back down, wriggling his hips slightly. The ginger-haired man's eyes crossed.
Wufei grinned at Quatre in a positively wicked fashion. "I may have started later than the rest of you, but I'm a quick study. You question him, I'll... administer the rewards for correct answers."
Quatre beamed happily. "OK!"
Noin fled, barely holding in her tears.
She had been so close!! She had seen Colonel Zechs eat the french fry, had heard his moan of pleasure - surely that meant the chemicals in the mutated potato were working?! He should have become open to suggestions, perhaps even - she hardly dared think it - aroused, but when she had attempted to get closer to her long-worshipped idol, he had ordered her away! She just didn't understand it!
Her feet carried her swiftly into the deserted sickbay. Her heart may have been breaking, but she would follow her beloved commander's orders.
She flung herself down on an empty bed and thought over the details of what had happened. She had been pressed up close against his naked torso - his strong, firm, lean, naked torso - and it had been heavenly. He had shifted his hips away almost immediately, but not before she had felt the unmistakable pressure of hardened flesh inside his breeches.
So... he *had* been affected by the potato. But why had he ordered her away? He should have been overcome with lust...
She rolled over on the bed, frowning up at the ceiling in the empty room.
Wait a minute... bed... empty room... Of course!!!! He had told her to go the nearest available room with a bed in it!!
She sat up and hugged her legs gleefully. Her darling colonel had reacted positively to the drug, but hadn't wanted to grope her in front of strangers - who had those young men been, anyway? New recruits? - so he had ordered her away before he could throw her to the ground and ravish her. Not that she would have minded being ravished in the least, but her blond idol was too well-bred to give in to such base instincts in public.
He would make his excuses to the recruits, and he would slip away to sickbay as soon as he could, to be with her. And hopefully, before too long, she would be well-bred, too...
Trowa stifled a moan as Greenthumb wiggled in his lap. Then the little minx looked over his shoulder and blinked charmingly. "Thanks, Trowa, you guys have been so good to me. No hard feelings about that thing at the Zoo, right?"
"No hard feelings?" Trowa repeated. He grabbed Duo's hips and pulled them down into his lap, rubbing his erection firmly against the mutant's pertly rounded rear. "Does this feel hard to you?"
"Oooooh, yessss, it does," Greenthumb breathed, rubbing back enthusiastically.
Nimble fingers reached around and began to loosen the laces on Trowa's leather pants, while the hips in his grasp twitched back and forth rhythmically, creating a delicious, if not-quite-substantial-enough, friction.
A drawn-out groan from the vine-tangled men in front of them made Greenthumb giggle a bit. "What do you suppose they're doing now?" he asked, mischievously, his hands still busy with the leather laces.
"This," Trowa replied, reaching into Duo's lap and firmly grasping the generous erection he found there. He began to pump, slowly.
"Ooooooooh! And... do you... mmmmmmthink... they're... doing... this?!" The last word was punctuated by slender fingers burrowing into his gaping fly and squeezing his own hard shaft.
"Mmmmaybe..." Trowa gasped. Oh, it felt so good, and yet he wanted more.
He scooted Duo around so that the mutant was sitting sideways in his lap. His right hand kept working steadily up and down, while the left slid behind the curtain of silky hair and began to fondle the sweet pink cheeks hiding there.
Greenthumb squirmed deliciously - apparently his ass was still a bit tender - but Trowa was delighted to note that he was wriggling into the caress, not away from it. Firm squeeze followed slow stroke followed teasing pinch, and soon Duo was writhing mindlessly in his arms.
Trowa leaned in and nipped at the mutant's slender neck. A few more judiciously applied caresses, and he could feel Duo catch his breath and stiffen for an endless minute, while warm, sticky liquid spurted through his fingers.
Greenthumb went limp, a delightfully boneless armful snuggling against his chest. Trowa smiled down at him, amused to note that even his come had a slight greenish tint to it. He touched the tip of his tongue experimentally to one of his sticky fingers, and was pleased with the resulting spicy flavour. Sweet, he thought, licking enthusiastically, and sort of like cinnamon...
Then expressive green eyes were looking up at him, shining with happiness. "That," a wicked little smile lit the gamin face, "was great. How can I ever repay you?" Long lashes fluttered seductively.
>CRACK<
Private Johnson went flying as Lt. Col. Une backhanded him. On second thought, it had definitely been a mistake attempting to couch the news of the potato mixup as a humorous misunderstanding. Perhaps a cute little song and tapdance routine would have gone over better.
Johnson wisely realized that getting up would only get him knocked down again, so he stayed where he had landed between two filing cabinets and waited for the storm to pass.
It was actually rather fascinating, in a terrifying way, to watch the psychotic colonel pace and mutter to herself, but what was with the taking off the glasses and then putting them back on? She seemed to do one or the other every second sentence as she argued with herself.
Finally she removed the glasses and pinched her nose. "You'd better get that nose looked at, Private," she said in a soft voice. "It looks broken. Go to sickbay and take the rest of the day off."
Johnson nodded and scrambled up, making for the door before she changed her mind.
Private Peters whistled as he chopped up the celery. Kitchen duty wasn't so bad. It was more than outweighed by the delicious hour he'd had with Johnson before they were caught. He sighed, happily reminiscing about their 'active dereliction of duty.'
His calm was shattered when Lt. Col. Une prowled into the kitchen and demanded to see his potatoes. Hoping 'potatoes' wasn't a code word for something, he heaved the twenty-pound bag up on the counter and stood at attention.
Une pulled a potato out of the bag and glared at it. "Have you ever been into the lab before?" she asked in a dangerous tone of voice.
Recognizing one of the colonel's more strange moods, the terrified Peters quavered, "No, ma'am!" not sure if that was the answer that would let him live or not.
He was half-expecting the backhanded blow that knocked him to the floor, but it still hurt.
"I wasn't talking to *you*," the colonel informed him icily, "I was talking to the potato." She glared at the vegetable again.
Private Peters' jaw slowly sagged open. Oooooookay. He wondered if he could make it to the door before she could throw a paring knife into his back. No, he'd better not chance it. She was crazy, but she was a damned fine gardener all the same, and he had once seen her nail an aphid with a pair of pruning shears at 20 paces.
"Where is the experimental potato hiding? Hmmmm?" She turned the tuber in her hands, angling it so that the bright lights overhead shone into some of its many eyes. "So you won't talk, hmmm? Private!"
"Y-yes, ma'am!?"
"Set up..." she paused significantly, "the deep fat fryer." She smirked at the potato in her hand. "We'll see how cooperative you are when the oil is boiling."
Peters rushed to do her bidding. While the oil was heating in the deep fryer, he helped arrange the other potatoes around it, 'so they could all have a good long look at their fate' as the colonel put it.
Almost as soon as the potatoes were all lined up on the counter, Une removed her glasses and moaned. "This is wrong - we shouldn't be fighting each other!" She held her potato up in front of her face and said earnestly, "We should help each other find that poor, lost potato, before it causes any more strife and discord!"
Her misty eyes travelled to Peters, looking him up and down. "Private, you have a nasty cut over your eye - go have it seen to immediately, please. And don't worry about supper - you're excused from your duties for today."
Peters nodded and edged towards the door. Sickbay sounded like a good idea. At least they would have tranquillizers there.
Alex held onto the precious potato in his pocket. Really, it had been ridiculously easy to steal it and replace it with the control. Mueller signalled him from the corner, and he slipped down the hallway to join his friend. Soon they would be in the kitchen, and then...
Then they would decide how their booty could best be used.
[TBC]
(:./wingnut/paddle3)
