A/N: Remember this? The majority of the story is completed, and all that's left is to merge the second chapter with the third (as the document I have shows it being incomplete, and the Wayback Machine isn't being of any help) and finish the last chapter (which is sitting at 1.3K words). Compared to Just Let It Go Already and the other parodies I've done, this is even more random. And when there's randomness involved, there is plenty of insanity to go around.

Like some of the other stories I have sitting in my USB drives, I thought about getting back into it, touch it up, and pick up where I left off.

TODAY'S PROGRAM IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY:

GP-SAMA'S CRACK IN A BOX!

SNIFF IT. LICK IT. RUB IT. EAT IT. MAKE LOVE TO IT! IT'S GRADE-A, SUPER-EFFICIENT, TURKEY-APPROVED CRACK IN A BOX! AND IT'S ALL AT YOUR DISPENSE!

GP-SAMA'S CRACK IN A BOX! IT'S BETTER THAN POT, MESCALINE, SHROOMS AND BATH SALTS!

WARNING: REMOVE SANITY BEFORE OPENING.

PART ONE!

It was the greatest thing to ever happen.

It was the best slow-motion, eye-widening, heart-stopping epiphany she ever had. It was like peeking in on the unsuspecting women in the shower with her gut crunching in ecstasy, but this—THIS was ten times better than any voyeuristic crusade she ventured on.

It was like snorting crack and going on a psychedelic acid trip. It was like enduring an earth-shattering orgasm followed by a consecutive amount of multiple orgasms. It was like listening to Jackie Moon's 'Love Me Sexy' while trying to cop a feel on her partner's breast and taking a sucker-punch point blank to the face. It was like finding the answer to the meaning of life and discovering it was 43.

Most of all, it was like obtaining nirvana among a bevy of brown-haired, blue-eyed sex goddesses.

She couldn't get it out of her head, couldn't shake the words clinging to her mind like steam-induced fantasies. Just what was this gregarious chant filling her with boundless, restless energy?

She posed this question to the cashier at the front desk.

"Oh, this? It's an old song from Earth. S'called 'Surfin' Bird' by The Trashmen."

Surfin' Bird, she mused curiously. It rolled off her tongue so smoothly, delicately, like the sweat on a woman's shoulder should taste. Salty, crisp, exotic. She said it more slowly: Surfin' Bird….

If this place wasn't so crowded, she would be pelvic thrusting the air like a dog with a bone.

"Tell me, good sir, do you have a copy of this 'Surfin' Bird'?"

"Uhh, yeah. Costs a nifty penny, though."

"How much?"

"Try a hundred-fifty."

"Well fuck me gently, I'll take it."

Nakajima Subaru walked out of the store a newer, lighter, sexier person.

She couldn't have been more right and more wrong.

At Riot Force Six's Central Command, four men—Vice Granscenic, Griffith Lowran, Zafira of the Wolkenritter and Chrono Harlaown—lounged in the break room. Vice had called for an important meeting between the quartet, so he invited Griffith and the Velkan Knight without a moment's hesitation. And while they came willingly Chrono declined, saying he would rather participate in an assembly of his superiors than that of this womanizing Sergeant Major.

Vice dragged the Admiral's scrawny white boy ass off the Claudia's boarding ramp regardless of the comment.

And there they were, gathered at a round table sipping their cups of Joe (because according to his sister StarBucks made the best goddamned coffee…among other things he really didn't want to hear. Chrono shuddered at the thought.) Vice had a manila envelope in his hands, and judging from how wide his smirk was it had to be something scandalous.

"So what is it you wanted to show us?" asked Griffith.

"Yes, Vice," said Chrono snidely. "What is so important that you had to pull me away while I was talking to my wife?"

"Ah, but it is very important, m'Admiral!" exclaimed the Sergeant Major. "It is important of the most utmost importance! For you see, what I hold in my hands will grant us immediate access to Lieutenant Colonel Yagami's Lesbian Army!"

Zafira sputtered into his coffee. "Wh-What?!"

Chrono arched a cobalt brow. "Lesbian Army?"

"Yes, yes! Let's be friends with the les-bi-ans!"

"And how is this important?"

"Because I and every able-bodied person know what today is."

"Friday?" queried Griffith.

"Not just Friday!" Vice assured the silver-haired technician. "It's Friday!"

"That doesn't make any sense," grunted Zafira noncommittally.

"Now now, let me finish! Yes, today's Friday, but it's a special Friday! In three hours the sun will set and give way to night. In three hours Captain Fate and Captain Nanoha are gonna finish their trainin' session with the Forwards. In THREE HOURS they will go to their room, lock the door, lock the windows, close the blinds, turn off the lights and crank the radio station to WNUA 95.5 at nine o' clock central time in Chicago. Why is this important? Because in THREE HOURS they'll be under those sheets doin' the horizontal tango while Kenny G plays 'Songbird' on a low volume. It is THIS EVENT, THIS TIME and THIS PLACE that their Special Weekly Friday Sex Night will take place, and by the Gods it'll set our souls ON FIRE!"

"More like your dick," grumbled the wolf-man. Vice flashed him a brief scowl.

"What are you up to, Vice?" the Admiral grounded out.

"What does their special night have to do with the manila envelope?" This being tossed in from Lowran.

"I've been waiting for just the question, m'dear Griffith! This envelope holds Lieutenant Colonel Yagami's two-hundred favorite snapshots of our made-in-heaven couple in various provocative poses, hot make-out sessions, groping episodes, orgasmic portraits, post-coital bliss and second helpings. It also includes fifty photos of miscellany and a twelve-page commentary written by the Tome of the Night Sky's Mistress herself! Here, have a looksy!"

He opened the envelope and passed the pictures around. Taking off the rubber bands they observed them with minute glances.

Vice did not have to wait long for their reactions, especially Chrono's.

The poor guy nearly choked on his Joe, grey irises blinking wildly. "Oh my Gods…What are they…? Wh-What? Why is Fate wearing a saddle?"

Zafira scratched his chin. "I see now why they look forward to Friday nights."

"Why is she being strung up like that?"

Griffith blushed darkly. "Hey Zaf, look at this and tell me what you see."

The Guardian Beast hummed understandingly. "Ah, so that's why they call it doggy style."

"Ahh, those welts! They look painful!"

"Are you getting something out of this, Griffith?" asked Zafira.

"No," he stated matter-of-factly. "I just can't believe I'm getting a look at some girl-on-girl action."

"What is Nanoha putting in her…? OH MY GOD! Is that…?"

"So why's your hand under the table?"

"OH GOD!"

Griffith's face turned an even darker shade. He grimaced. "No reason."

"Well?" Vice pitched in, smiling. "How d'you like it?"

"Dude, what the hell?!" exploded Chrono. "That's my sister getting fucked!"

"So?"

"SO?! You're this CLOSE to having your check boun—!"

Zafira clapped a hand over the Admiral's mouth, silencing him. "Sergeant Major, you say these photographs are from the Mistress, correct?"

"Yup!" he nodded.

"The Mistress is very tight-lipped with her personal belongings. Why do you have them with you in the first place?"

Tension reigned. The men's brows rose almost well above their hairlines. Their coffee was forgotten.

And then:

"Oh my God, did you steal them?!" exclaimed Griffith incredulously.

"Me? Steal pictures from Lieutenant Colonel? For shame, Lowran!"

"LIAR!" screamed Chrono, ripping Zafira's hand from his lips. He rose from his chair, planted his palms on the table and pointed at him. "YOU'RE A THIEF!"

"Oh my God, you DID steal them!" Lowran parroted.

"Now why would I want to steal from her? As a matter of fact, she was the one who gave 'em to me."

"OBJECTION!" cried the Admiral.

"Overruled," said Vice coolly. "This is why I called for a meeting. You see, Lieutenant Colonel Yagami is going on a crusade tonight to watch the magic unfold. Normally she would go alone as to protect her double life from the general public, but she's insisted on us to come along and—I quote, dear boys—Experience the joy, the wonder, the thrills and chills of intimate girl-to-girl bonding." Vice clasped his hands. "So whaddya say? Are we game or are we (and by we I mean you guys) lame?"

"No fucking way," objected Chrono.

"I'm in!" shouted Griffith enthusiastically.

"What?!"

"I shall come as well," said Zafira stoically. "I would…like to see the full expanse of this…doggy style."

"WHAT?!"

"Then it's settled! It's three to one on this vote! We're all goin' on a trip to see the girlies!"

"YAY!" squealed Lowran.

Chrono groaned and hid his face. "Somebody shoot me."

At that moment the door opened and Teana Lanstar stepped forward, cocking Cross Mirage's hammer. "You rang?"

Something wicked was approaching Central Command.

Mind you, fellow reader, it was not a weapon nor a Gadget Drone nor Lugia—ahem, a Lost Logia nor was it Jail Scaglietti the Class-One interdimensional criminal himself.

It was something much worse, and our main protagonist, our lovable hypersexual pervert and expert peeping-tom Nakajima Subaru, was oblivious to the danger she had in her possession.

She was literally roaring across Mid-Childa via Wing Road, arms spread wide and voice shouting at the top of her lungs. At the speed she was going, Mach Calibur barely touched the path comprised of magicks and data.

The wind howled, demonic and unbearable, but that did not stop the young'in from singing to the high heavens.

Little did everyone know, the clock was ticking. T-minus five minutes…

Four minutes…

Three minutes…

Oh yes.

Something wicked was definitely coming this way.

They wouldn't know what hit them.

On the other side of the barracks, a scene was going on, one that Lieutenant Colonel and her upbeat (and a certain outvoted) cohorts were surely missing out on. They would kill to see this.

But Shario Finieno did not want to. I mean, hell, she loved her friends and had the utmost loyalty and respect for them, but there WAS such a thing called getting a room. If it had been any other couple, she would have obliged to watch. Yet these two…horndogs…Shouldn't they be out training their Forwards? Or researching that Jail Sca…Sca…whatever-the-fuck-his-name-was guy?

For Christ's sake, it was Friday night! Friday was the only day in the week when they allowed their hormones to take over. Why couldn't they have their P.D.A. somewhere else?! The closet or storage compartment was a good place! Hell, they might as well make Seven Minutes in Heaven into Eight Minutes, or a Half Hour, or Hour, or however the fuck long it took them to satiate their primal desires!

Of course, such inner monologues weren't going to sway the gay away. Not that she was against it or anything, but…she had her limits. And seeing them swap DNA in that manner wasn't helping soothe her nerves.

So, sitting at the lovely plastic table with Lucino Liilie and Alto Karuetta at her flanks, drinking their cups of Joe (because according to Instructor Takamachi Starbucks made the best goddamned coffee…among other things she REALLY didn't want to hear; Shari cringed at the thought) in paper containers, she watched Nanoha and Ace Enforcer Fate T. Harlaown showered their love in a hot episode of passion. Filling their mouths with saliva, planting hickies at only-God-knows-where, unbuttoning their uniforms and loosening their ties, clutching their hair and groping their chests…holy katamari it looked like they were going to do it on the floor and NOT CARE if people were around.

Well, there was that one time, after a mock battle session that, just as the Forwards were leaving for the barracks, they decided to traumatize one of them by having Fate shove Nanoha up against a tree and thoroughly 'explore' her in full view. Poor Elio damned near bled himself to death; even his ghost almost kicked the bucket when Subaru—shirtless and bruised and trousers gathered at her ankles and a vicious palm mark glaring red on her cheek—hopped over and pulled him back home where he happily welcomed sweet oblivion.

Not that she cared what those two were doing in the least bit.

Still…

A loud moan penetrated (Yuck! she thought, grimacing. Penetrated?) her muse. Reality set in as she laid eyes on the couple, in which Nanoha roughly massaged a breast and Fate expressed her arousal in a way that would make any porn star practice for the perfect pitch of their vocal chords. The blond fisted her brunette lover's hair, yanked her head back, and sealed her lips atop that warm mouth. Grunting approvingly into the delectable cavern, Takamachi wrapped her arms about the Enforcer's neck and legs around her waist. Harlaown hoisted the smaller woman up and slammed her into the opposite wall while lacquered nails raked scarlet furrows along her back. There she proceeded to hump the Instructor like no tomorrow….

Shari snatched the Joe and gulped that sucker down in three seconds flat. Banging the cup in its rightful place that shook the table, she crossed her arms over her ample (and not so impressive) chest (lucky bastards!) and huffed. "You know, with all this fuckin' and truckin' goin' on every week, you'd think there'd be a chance for SOME PEOPLE in their right minds to GET THE FUCK OUT and tap what little ass there's left in private. KNOW WHAT I'M-A SAYING?!"

Time came to a screeching standstill.

Both girls ceased their ministrations and regarded the tech with lust-filled eyes. Shari, in return, glared back, lower lip protruding in a pout.

Indigo and burgundy met narrowed brown.

Yeah, that's right. Fucking pout. Be fucking petulant! Anything's better than watching you two pass the gravy back and forth in your pants! She shuddered at the thought and the image that followed. ARGH-BLARGH GODDAMIT now I can't look at Thanksgiving gravy the same ever again!

A vein popped onto her forehead and throbbed angrily as the pair resumed their make-out session, ignoring her as if the outburst never happened.

Why you…!

Shari tore at her hair, biting back the banshee shriek welling in her throat. "I HAVE FURY! I fix their devices! I give their barrier jackets upgrades! I set them up on the date of their lives, bring them together through hell and high water, and THIS is the THANKS I GET?! My FURY is FURIOUS!"

Alto patted her friend's forearm reassuringly. "Oi, oi, Shari, don't bust a nut now. This sort of interaction's natural. When you grow up and fall in love, you'll also want to blatantly ignore friendship in favor of taste-testing some irresistible white chocolate."

"Don't forget the dark chocolate!" quipped Lucino.

The pilot-in-training laughed, waving her hand in a shooing gesture. "You and your dark chocolate! I swear, Lucino, it's almost like you WANT to be black!"

"Oh, if only I had the money to get that negroplasty! That way I can be the succulent center in that yogurt-flavored Oreo those two are trying to make!"

"Who wouldn't want to be the center of a delicious Oreo cookie?"

"I SHOULD BE THE ONE IN THE MIDDLE GETTING FUCKIN' SNOGGED FOR MY VENERABLE GOOD WILL AND KINDNESS, GODDAMMIT!" raged Shari, eyes and pupils shrunk to a pin and fangs bared in a snarl.

Lucino gawked at her, blinking owlishly. "The middle?"

"That's right!" exclaimed Alto, clapping her hands. "Shari can be the creamy yogurty goodness! It all makes sense now!"

The purple-haired ship navigator cupped her chin. "Sensible, indeed! You're as sharp as ever, Alto dear! Why, I would love to have a vanilla-flavored yogurt-centered Oreo. Mmph! Just thinking about it makes me want to go over there and dot, dot, dot!"

"Dot, dot, dot?" Alto asked confusedly.

Lucino nodded vigorously. "The dot, dot, dot!"

The pilot's eyes immediately flared with realization. "Oh!" She giggled. "Dot, dot, dot!"

"Dot, dot, dot!" repeated Lucino.

"Dot, dot, dot!" This being Alto. Then together:

"Dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot, dot—!"

"FOR THE LOVE OF FURY, BOTH OF YOU PUT A FLIPPIN' DOT ON IT!" raged Shari.

Alto gasped, covering her mouth in mock horror. "There go the ovaries!"

"Next it'll be the breasts!" added Lucino.

"Cease your testicular profanity! I am in the greatest pinch of all pinches, and your reproductive vulgarity is not helping!"

"Oh no!" cried Lucino.

"What sort of pinch are you in?" prodded Alto.

"Is it this pinch?" Lucino reached over and pinched the skin of Shari's neck.

The tech cringed. "Ow, no!"

"What about this pinch?" Alto squeezed a sliver of her arm.

A yelp. "NO!"

"Or this pinch?" Lucino pulled at her cheeks.

A glare. "NO!"

"Oh! Maybe this pinch!" Both girls leaned across the table and seized a nipple each.

Shari snatched and crushed their hands in an iron grip, her face awash in an evil shadow. "Pinch me again and I'll fucking KILL YOU. Got it?!" Mountainous irises lifted and blazed a nightmarish red.

"Y-Yes, ma'am!" stuttered the techs painfully. When she let go, they nursed their smarting wounds.

"Man, Shari, you're really not too enthusiastic about them, are ya?" said Lucino. "I mean, who WOULDN'T want to see NanoFate ready to fuck 'n' truck? That's like a fangirl's wet dream!"

"Look, I don't mind seein' them spreadin' the lo- Wait. NanoFate? Where the hell did that come from?"

"It's a thing people that admire 'em do when they wanna see 'em as a couple," Alto explained. "You take one part of a person's name—the first couple letters, mind you—and put 'em together with either another person's name or the last few letters of that person's name. However, that depends on how long the name is. If ya got a long name, you have to the last syllable with the first syllable, but if ya got a short name you just put it with that first syllable. Hence, NanoFate. Or Feinoha, if ya prefer romanization. Does that help?"

"Eh, sort of."

"Sort of?" Lucino repeated curiously. She propped her elbows on the table and steeped her hands. "How so?"

Fate ripped off her uniform and unbuttoned the white dress shirt to reveal her buxom bust and that sexy-ass black bra she wears. A growl rumbled in the back of her throat as she placed Nanoha's head over her heaving heart. Those bruised, swollen lips nipped and suckled on that bronzed flesh as nimble fingers fumbled with the belt buckle of the blond's pants.

Shari tapped a digit against her empty cup. "Look, I love Nanoha and Fate just as much as everyone else does, but…seriously! Let's see somethin' new! Gimme another couple to fawn over! Like…like…Elio and Caro! Yeah, that would work great…if they were older, but who cares? Love between a loli and shouta can be up in anybody's alley! Or Signum and Shamal…if they weren't always locked in that goddamned chemistry room! Argh, what else, what else? Ah, Zafira and Arf! But it's kinda awkward when you have a little girl and a talking blue mutt trying to put the moves on each other. Bestiality just ain't my thing. And Hayate and Carim…well, the Church would be tanning their asses with thick wooden paddles that have the words Sway the Gay away! Net the Het! on 'em. So in all honesty, fellow wigger and nut-buster extraordinaire, I would totally, TOTALLY love to have front row seats watching Subaru and Tea make out than Horny and Hornier over there."

Alto snorted into her Joe and guffawed. Lucino clutched her side and pounded the table top, spilling dark liquid in the process.

Shari frowned deeply. Her brow furrowed and the hairs on her neck bristled. "And you don't think that's possible?"

"Of course not!" exclaimed Lucino in between chortles. "Those two are like planets on a collision course! It's a disaster waiting to happen!"

"Think about it, Shari," said Alto as a matter of fact. "One is a hypersexual stalker with a penchant to getting her ass kicked. The other is a CLOSETED yandere with a steroid addiction who actually DOES kick ass. In all theory, Darwin's natural selection does not insist on this coupling!"

"And just where does Charles Darwin fit into all this?"

"EVERYWHERE!" the girls shouted simultaneously and fell into temptation's erupting laughter.

Finieno snorted and rolled her eyes. Why oh why couldn't these buffoons listen to her? Why couldn't they give them a chance? Why couldn't they take this change of pace in stride? Okay, sure Lanstar was a fuckin' psycho incognito, and yes Subaru was an irritating li'l sex hound, but hell! wouldn't that be more interesting than a Higurashi cop-out and a Solid Snake reject? She thought so.

Please, if there are any gods or goddesses out there that can divert this conversation in a different direction, then by all means do it!

And they did.

Because that was when IT happened.

The two most random words Shari Finieno ever heard in her existence (and all other possible incarnations that are floating outside space, time, and human thought—THANK YOU, ALTERNATE UNIVERSES!) made a grand entrance in the form of an approaching, wind-screeching howl:

"…sssssssSSSSSSURRRRRRRFIN' BIRD!"

KERRASSH!

The table between the trio was immediately reduced to rubble, the coffee vaporized by sheer awesomeness and major pwnage. Nanoha, who was just about ready to pull down Fate's trousers and proceed with Operation pr0n, shot a murderous glare at the foolish asswipe of a student who dare interrupt her LOVE LOVE REACTION!

That foolish, careless, reckless, incompetently stupid cunt—!

And then that song blasted from the MP3's headphones, and then she, Subaru fucking Nakajima, broke out with it and, oh gods…DANCED.

"A-well-a, everybody's heard ABOUT THE BIRD!
Bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word.
A-well-a, bird, bird, bird, the bird is the word.
A-well-a, bird, bird, bird, well, the bird is the word.
A-well-a, bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word.
A-well-a, bird, bird, bird, well, the bird is the word.
Hey, don't you know about the bird?" Then, angrily, up in the trio's faces: "YOU BETTER FUCKING KNOW THAT THE BIRD IS THE WORD!
A-well-a, bird, bird, bird, the bird is the word."
To Nanoha and Fate: "Hey, lesbians at the wall, the bird is the word."
Opening the window and yelling down below - "ZEST AND LUTECIA, THE BIRD IS THE WORD!"- utterly ignoring the tall man's angry curse.
Kicking down the door to a hidden study room: "Author at the desk, the bird is the word. Hey, don't you KNOW about the bird?"
"Hell, everyone KNOWS that the bird is the word!" agreed GP-sama.
"A-well-a, bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word.
A-well-a, BIRD!"

"SUBARU-BAKEMONO!" yelled the White Devil, hauling up the wretched Nakajima by her jacket. Indigo orbs roared indignantly into innocent green disks. "WHAT do you THINK you're DOING?!"

"Ah! Nanoha-sensei! This song kicks ass!" said the Mid-Childan with a foxy grin. "I've had it on repeat since you told me to go take a hike to South Mid for walking in on you and Fate-sensei last week!"

"Do you think I GIVE A DAMN?! And it's been six days! Why aren't you over there minding your own business?!"

"A lot of intriguing phenomena have been occurring to me in those six days, Nanoha-sensei! I learned why The Impossible Song is called Impossible on Stepmania—"

Subaru watched fascinated as the mines and arrows fly and disappear across the computer screen while jamming the F5 key. "Wow! This song really IS impossible!"

"—discovered a lost castle—"

"REVOLVER CANNON!" She punched the sandy coast with all her might. The ground rumbled with a resounding clap. So fierce was this power that the ocean split in two, revealing the Prophet, Queen Zeal, and Schala, who dropped from her floating position above the Mammon Machine.

The matriarch swore under her breath. "I've been found!"

"Well, this certainly isn't in The Scenario…." murmured the Prophet.

Schala staggered to her feet, giving Subaru a small smile. "Th-Thank you f-for rescuing me! To wh-what do I owe this va-valiant kni—OHHHH…OH, OH SHIIIIITTTTT!"

The sea came crashing down on the trio and the Ocean Palace, erasing their existences in a heartbeat.

"—and I had British tea-time with Pinhead and Pyramid Head!"

"Here's your tea, fellas! Drink up!" Sitting between the demon and the personification, Subaru poured them the scalding liquid in their matching china cups and saucers. After serving herself she took a sip, only to instantly splutter and cough. "BLARGH! Alright, who's the wise guy that put SALT in my tea?!"

The pair answered with rough, matching cackles.

"But I figured despite my shortcomings and inner monologues on how to be a better stalker, I would come back and spend the last day of my vacation here at Central Command before you proceed to take me in the ass and rape me of my dignity during the brutal, ungodly gauntlet that is called steeling one's mind and bearing one's soul for the truth and nothin' but. Or training, in laymen's terms." Subaru rewarded her honored Sensei the one-of-a-kind, patented smile made fit for the Nakajima genetic structure. "And that, Nanoha-sama, is my closing statement. What do you think? Sounds like I had a blast, eh?"

"I'll blast your FACE IN if you don't get OUT of my PERSONAL SPACE, EH!?" Nanoha barked, pushing the younger girl away from her. Then, pointing a finger at her, she added, "And DON'T call me Nanoha-SAMA! Only Fate can call me Nanoha-sama 'cause she's hot, she's got a sexy ass, and she's gonna be seein' more than stars and lightning when I'm through with you little shits! So if you want to be the best goddamned badass, you'd be wise to get that worthless ass in gear PRONTO, you dumbass YOU! Do I make MYSELF CLEAR?!"

The young'in smartly saluted her superior. "Ma'am, yes ma'am! I will forever be clear to your demand!"

"THEN GO!"

"YOSHA! Then may your flames of youth transpire to transcend the three tiers to the top of the world, taking in triumph the tediously hidden token of Fate's treasure trove to tenacious-"

"OUT!"

And Nakajima left, blissfully unfazed by her mentor's angry red face and cantankerous change of demeanor.

When she was gone, Takamachi heaved a sigh of relief. She turned to Fate, who had quietly observed the conversation, and combed a hand through auburn locks—a nervous habit she had picked up over the years. "My apologies, Fate. Genya's runt was an unknown variable to our midnight tryst. I should've been more aware of what was going on around us."

The blond chuckled. "No need to be at fault," she said huskily. "You've got the rest of the evening to think of all the ways you're going to rock my world. Be a dear and go do your thing." She pulled the instructor close, full breasts flushed against that lean, muscular back, and breathed into her ear: "I'll be waiting." A long, slow, sinuous drag of her tongue up the shell of the ear and a gentle push sent Nanoha on her way, the results of a massive nosebleed marking a path on the hallway floor.

As of that moment, Nanoha Takamachi was the luckiest bitch in Mid-Childa. A smirking Nanoha meant a lucky Nanoha ready to score the three-point shot in the game.

And Shari, who watched the entire scene unfold before her very eyes, summarized her thoughts aloud in an incredulous voice:

"WHAT THE SHIT TACO JUST HAPPENED?!"