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"Agglomeration"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: R Warnings: Yaoi,
Humor Pairings: 3x4 Summary:
The flames from the fireplace reflected off the shiny black Lycra
like the tongue of a serpent. The smooth, sensual curves invoked the
eyes to stare and the hands to touch, but there was only one man allowed
to lay his hands upon the flesh of sinful temptation. "Dressed To Kill " Sniper Red, are we good to go? Sniper Red, good to go. Sniper Blue, are we good to go? Sniper Blue, good to go. Sniper Green, are we good to go? "Sniper Green, good to go. Watch for the decoy." Roger that. The sound of gunshots echoed throughout the mansion and Trowa cursed. "Cancel that. Decoy's been compromised. I'm going in." Sniper Green, you will remain in your position, do you copy? You will remain in your position. That's an order! Good luck getting him to listen. He's gone rogue. Trowa scaled the building, weapon at the ready. The gunshots had ceased. He crept up the stairs and silently inched his way inside, ears straining for any sounds, something that might indicate a sign of life. His body thrummed with adrenaline, desperate to find the decoy and make sure he was safe, hindsight making him kick himself for deciding to go along with this travesty of a plan. The sting involved the taking down of a prostitution ring that was snatching young men off the street and turning them into sex slaves. Quatre was selected to infiltrate and act as a decoy to "entertain" the criminals while the response team surrounded the premises. Something went wrong and now Trowa was desperate to find his love and make sure he was okay. There was an odd tapping sound to his left and Trowa followed it, sliding along the wall. He jumped through the doorway, instantly dropping his weapon in utter shock. The criminals were scattered around the room, bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds. In the center stood Quatre, in full costume, foot tapping impatiently. The flames from the fireplace reflected off the shiny black Lycra like the tongue of a serpent. The smooth, sensual curves of his body invoked the eyes to stare and the hands to touch, but there was only one man allowed to lay his hands upon the flesh of sinful temptation. Quatre glanced over at him with calm eyes and blew the smoking muzzle of his gun with lips as iniquitous as Satan himself. "What took you so long?"
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