No I have not been AWOL. Ever since I started teaching the utter lack of originality I am surrounded with has put all my plot bunnies into imagination comas and I've barely managed to croak out maybe six chapters for other stories in the last year. But a recent reintroduction to the lovely twisted mind of Alucard (from Helsing idjits, the whiney gay one the computer game gagged out I still need to burn alive) and Flippy *snuggles a blood-soaked plushie of the psychopathic military bear from Happy Tree Friends* has revived what I so long feared dead.

IWannaLightsaber: *hands over cookies*no no, I read and love all reviews. I just had the afore mentioned lack of stimulation to work with.

Guest: Too bad, DEAL!

LinzPhantom and JackFrost23: I know I need to write her profile, if you have any questions I'll try to answer them.

magicrazy101, codyz girl, ReillyScarecrowRocks: For your awesome support may I present the 'Torture Master' deluxe package (can't really remember what I put in there, mostly bits and pieces from past charrie cage experiments but I do recall losing a couple cases of hallucinogenics after packing them and Flippy would never forgive me leaving him out of the fun*tosses in a couple more plushies). As for tossing her and Tom in a room… *stars giggling in a very disturbing fashion*

Alex: GULP!

Chapter VIII: Tea Time (also known as 'You Will be Permanently Scared for Life Because the Writer Is In An Awesome Mood' D).

Clomp, clomp, click, clomp, clomp, click. Had the escort known what effect the monotonous sound of footsteps was having on Wolf they'd have made escape a decent possibility by breaking few ribs laughing.

Damn BITCH! The girl had some nerve talking him down like that. Then there was the assassin and AAAARRRRRRRGGG! Did the idiot who invented army boots have any brain cells? It's no wonder ambushes could be so tricky, who wouldn't hear those shoes a mile away! How had he never noticed till now?

Lucky for the him they finally managed to reach their destination before he decided there was something to be said for those Japanese Kamikaze guys. Was he the only one who noticed these guys had some really friggen long corridors? It was probably also a good thing they took the blindfold off from the back or he might have been tempted to bite someone just for the fun of seeing what reaction it got.

Thankfully for our favorite captain he was now too surprised with his new surroundings the mental rant managed to take a break.

Far from the images of medieval torture racks or the KKK and Scarecrow's love child waiting under a bare light bulb with a fire hose, the place was actually quite…well…nice!? In fact, if it weren't for the M16 toting boneheads he might have believed himself in the kitchen of a upper class home.

Why did this seem wrong on so many levels?

"Ok you, listen up!" Wolf could actually feel himself going cross-eyed staring at the chubby Teletubby glaring at him. What was with cooks and hats almost as tall again as themselves? Where they trying to make up for something? Aw hell no, he did not just start poking him in the gut.

"Take that cart in the room and don't you come out until the brat says you can. No sudden movements or you will be punished. And of course don't even bother trying to think of escaping because I am just begging for a reason to fry your brains."

Wha…? Before that thought managed to work its way to his mouth the answer on how that last part would be accomplished came in the form of something snapping around his neck. Wait! Did they just… put a fucking collar on me?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What do you think they'll do to him?" Alex finally caved and asked the question. The pain of his wounds was working hand-in-hand with the residual fear from his own interrogation to wear at his nerves.

"How the fuck should we know. Stuck in a box here with you, re-mem-ber?" Oh yeah, Miss Drama Queen over in the corner, forgot about her.

Drake let out a soft sigh through the nose. It had been slightly less than seven hours since her capture. Great, spending Sunday night with no beer and the annoying child was not how she had pictured this job going. Oh yes, Quatermain was going to owe her sooooooo much when she got home.

"Probably wishing his brain was on an autopsy table without anesthetic right now, if I know this branch of Scorpia as well as I like to think I do." Everyone looked at her oddly.

"How is it you know where we are?"

"Deduction my dear Watson," she smirked at the one called Fox. "Unless they were paranoid enough to make sure your dear boss would only be chasing ghosts by shipping us off to parts unknown, given the time limit since they got me it is safe to assume we are still in the UK or at the very least not farther than France. There is only one evil lair of this magnitude on this bleeping rock and two across the creek. Since this story's evil minions appear to be particular towards good old fashion English I'm gonna guess the first to be the better bet."

Alex felt his blood starting to boil. They were being held hostage. He did not care how smart she thought she was. This was life or death, not some game.

Cheerfully conscious of the slowly rising steam levels across the room she smirked that self-satisfied grin again, "Save for the possibility they recently opened a back-up den of doom that my intelligence has contacted a sudden bout of temporary blindness to."

Alex had heard enough. Finding a sudden burst of energy he managed force himself upright and swung his legs over the bed despite Snake's chagrined protests. He had no idea what he was going to do except that pulsing annoyance in his gut yelling at him to shut her the Hell UP!

Yeah, easier said than done. That small shot of adrenaline immediately vaporized when his muscles contracted at the first stage of standing. In a rush everything he'd been through in the last few hours slammed into him like an almost physical wave, sending him crashing back into the waiting arms of a now annoyed Snake.

"Cub! Cool it!" Alex would have tried to protest the order but the burn in his side grinned over the teeth it had sunk in his ribs and stole what air was still in his lungs.

"Might I ask just what your connection to Scorpia is?" The newest batch of information had Fox's mind traveling down half-a-dozen lanes, none of which ended in very pretty destinations.

"Complicated." Fox's brows twitched. One word answers were never a good sign.

"What do they want you for?"

"Boss man must still be sulking I turned down his last prom invitation."

"Do you know what they want with us?"

A shoulder accompanied the 'no idea, just guessing here' look. "Rebound guy?

"Don't worry; I'm sure your boyfriend is just fine. Not wishing he was fresh meat back in the base showers with the wrong team or anything like that."

XXXXXXXXXX

Wolf wished he was fresh meat back in the base showers. He remembered quite fondly a time in boot camp when he'd been held back due to not completing a course. The overtime hadn't been an issue, the team occupying the shower when he got back to the barracks, however, was.

He'd gotten out of that situation, thankfully, with nothing more than bruises and some minor cuts. The more embarrassing thing was his pride. He'd dropped all finesse in favor of simple, pure animal instinct to fight and claw his way out no matter what. It earned the other team a one way ticket to military court and him a name in the camp.

This, on the other hand, was not on the list of possible combat situations. It wasn't even fucking close.

The room was pink. Pink! Fucking sunny strawberries and bubblegum rosy hues.

Those had better not be what I think they are! Wolf felt his stomach beginning a yoga routine at the sight of rows and rows of dolls, fluffy toys, and… was that really a unicorn rocking-thingy?

The room looked like an advertisement for the little girl from princess hell. White painted dollhouse furniture in real life size included a dining room set, couches, shelves, dressers, extra benches to hold the sheer number of toys, and finally a four post monstrosity of white and pink lace that could have comfortably accommodated half of K unit with room to stretch.

Of course he should have seen the writing on the wall with the tea trolley. Who else used white and pink lace doilies and periwinkle blue china with even brighter pink flower patterning? After being fitted with the metal collar and matching wrist cuffs he'd been pushed, quite rudely, in the direction of a plain white door, next to which sat the afore mentioned monstrosity that looked like it came out of one of those historical aristocratic movies Snake sometimes enjoyed tormenting him with. Fancy shaped chocolates and snacks that looked like they'd probably crumble if he breathed too hard on them were laid out on a pastry tier. Even the sugar was those little cubes in a bowel with tongs and there was actual cream in a mini jug.

Upon sighting it Wolf had immediately felt himself going cross-eyed. However his shock was cut short by the dwarf unlocking the door before expertly shoving the trolley into his legs hard enough to be irritating but still not so much as to cause the cream to slosh.

"Well get going!" Wolf sighed. This had to be some kind of weird joke. Mind games perhaps? Or did one of the higher ups happen be female or have company of that gender and wanted to show off his catch of the day.

Well, that's what he thought, until the door snicked shut sharply behind him, waking him up the fact the reality might be far worse than anything he could have imagined.

Now what? Wolf wondered, and then remembered that just before leaving the hobbit had shoved a piece of paper into his hands. He'd been too shocked at the sight of the tea trolley to register it then, but now recalled the instruction to read what was written there out loud upon entering.

"You've got to be kidding me," he muttered to himself.

Apparently someone outside thought he was either taking too long or was just being plane sadistic because a sharp jolt shot from the collar and cuffs. Not enough to hurt but it definitely got his attention. "Fucking bastards," Wolf muttered again. So the fancy new accessories were electric, just fucking perfect.

"Fine, fine, impatient ass-tarts." Deciding to go with the flow until he had a better grasp of the situation Wolf read- not without a sever jaw clenched grimace. "My Lady, I beg pardon, but your tea awaits, Most Lovely Excellency."

The sound of what he just managed to recognize as Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' stopped drifting from the next room. Wolf found himself tensing as the music was replaced by the sound of rustling cloth.

"Oh!" Wolf felt his brain finally shut down in protest at what he was seeing. "Oh, HELL NO!"

"Any bets on what our most generous host is plotting for our most esteemed Leader?" Everyone sighed and threw looks at Eagle.

"Psychological." Drake finally gave in from boredom and decided to join him in his efforts to occupy themselves while waiting.

"Sure they aren't going to try playing ABCs of Hannibal Lector's medical diagramming of the human physique?"

Drake smiled fondly, if a little pityingly at Alex who was still determined to try melting her face off with his glare. "Nah, if I know these guys as well as I should then a guy like Wolf, with his hyper-macho-ism, they're more likely to try wearing down his…, how do I put this, manliness constitution."

The remainder of K unit looked at Drake like she'd just said she was the love child of Elvis and a wookiee. Yassen snickered, causing everyone (minus Drake of course) to turn and stare at him like he'd just said he was the shape shifting vampire.

"I don't want to know," Fox muttered numbly.

"Well?! Are you just going to stand there all day fool? Serve me already!"

"No way in he…" The curse died on his lips as Wolf almost jumped from the two jolts, higher voltage this time, zapping in quick succession down his spine, effectively shutting him up. "Yes my lady."

"Hmph!" was all the thanks he was dispensed as he poured the tea and added sugar and milk until she wordlessly raised her hand to motion the adequate amount had been reached.

Can't kill her, can't kill her, chased around in his head like a mantra on a high school relay race. Not because it would just be wrong, but he was also pretty sure his invisible leash holders would never allow him even a modicum of opportunity.

"Ahem!" The tone matched the sharply raised eyebrow that drew back his attention to follow the pointed stare at the cookie tray.

'Fuck this' was what he wanted to say, but managed to temper it. "I'm quite sure you can serve yourself." For a moment he was almost afraid as her eyes bugged out of her head, cringing in expectation of the punishment to come.

Unfortunately whoever was on the other end with the button to the cuffs must have known what was coming and decided it was worse than anything they could inflict.

Wolf would never admit that at the first shriek he jumped a good foot or several in the air. Regaining his balance, he had no compunctions this time about letting loose a string of curses that he was sure would have had the little girl screaming a blue streak if she wasn't already too busy throwing a tantrum that Wolf was sure had to be either fake or this girl had never so much as been denied anything in her life. He was willing to bet on the first. Even this bunch of fuckers had to have a line drawn somewhere for dealing with her when no handy prisoner butlers were available.

Checking that he hadn't actually cracked a tooth when upon landing like he feared, the man settled back a safe distance from the little girl now swinging her arms and legs in what he had to admit was a pretty determined attempt to hit him.

However even the most calloused ass, such as himself, had their limit before the urge to claw their ears off became too much to bear.

"Alright! Alright, my apologies. Which one would you like?"

His suspicion about the act was confirmed as utter silence befell the room and the little brat sat up and smoothed her skirts and hair before standing with a surprising amount of grace to sit back in her chair. "You always start from the bottom to top. That's because the best ones are always at the top." That sweet smile was not fooling him in the least.

Not about to argue with whatever logic drove that reasoning, Wolf quickly grabbed three cookies from the bottom tier and plopped them on a plate in front of the little vermin. He was more than sure someone was watching on monitors and no doubt laughing their ass off right this moment. Screw them, he'd get revenge when they busted out of this hell hole. He just had to make sure none of the others ever caught the faintest shred of what went down here today.

The rest of tea went smoothly enough. So long as Wolf quietly refilled the cup and plate as soon as they were empty the little troll remained content to smile sweetly and occasionally shrill an exclamation about the deliciousness of the snacks while eyeballing the K unit leader in a way Wolf was sure was meant to provoke him.

To be honest it was working. His last meal was dinner the night they were taken and by his best estimate that had to have been at least a day ago and those goodies did look tasty.

Wait! What was he thinking? He would never accept food off these cunts even if he starved to death. With that fixated in his mind he managed to find the will to ignore the sugary scents tempting his nose and reminding his belly of its extreme irritation at the lack of input.

Of course, the peace was not to last. As soon as the last crumb was swallowed (Wolf had to wonder how the kid wasn't diabetic with all that sugar) came the ominous event that Wolf had hoped to escape the lurking doom of.

Playtime.

If I get out of here I am never, ever having kids. Especially not girls.

Seriously! Who in the world had the stomach to develop this much pink plastic? If he ever met the person who invented lace he would have a bullet with their name specially engraved upon it.

"…And then they kiss and partied while the little princess danced and danced until her feet became bloody and fell off." Ok, there went dating until he got that story's images out of his head. Who in the hell was coming up with these pieces of crap. And he'd thought the ones in the story book him mom borrowed from the library for him as a kid were bad enough. He was more than willing to bet these had been subtly altered to screw with his mind.

"Alright, I think that's enough princesses for one day." Wolf thought he might be able to escape if he stood up fast enough.

Apparently not fast enough for a girl with a gazillion toys for companions and who knew how many captives of these fucking shit bags to torment. "Let's play teddy bear house!"

Wolf would not have blamed himself if the sudden blanch at this suggestion showed loud and clear on his face. "No, no teddy bear housekeeping, princesses, mermaids, or shopping! That's final!"

Uh oh! There went the bottom lip. Quivering in a threat to begin another tantrum.

"Ok, ok, uuum…" Wolf looked frantically around for something that wouldn't make him place multiple lobotomies at the top of his Christmas wish list.

Then a stroke of brilliance hit him.

"Horses, you like horses? I think you said princesses ride horses right?" He had no reason to apologies for grasping at straws. He was that fucking desperate.

"Yay! Horsies!" The little brat exclaimed, clapping with enthusiastic glee.

Wolf half sagged as he let a lopsided grin of relief pin up his face like a clown in the first stages of a breakdown.

God-knew-how-much-later…

"Again! Again horsey!"

Wolf panted and almost staggered under the weight of a pudgy eight-year-old. He'd done training runs with packs twice as heavy, how was he already tired? Well to be fair those runs did not involved a personal Lilliputian trainer pulling at his hair every twenty seconds demanding he sing along to whatever random tune she thought up to provide background music for what he was officially dubbing the most demented ride in the history of babysitting. Remind him why he was never having kids.

"I said five minutes; it's been more than that." He very firmly grasped her around the waist to ensure a speedy removal to avoid another foot in the eye if possible.

"It's only been three minutes!" She crowed triumphantly, pointing at the 'My Little Pony' coo-coo-clock on the wall next to the bathroom.

"That's… that can't be right." He may not be an expert on how fast one could tire while having to deal with miniature banshees, but he was willing to bet that at least double the time of what the clock hands were reading had passed. There had to be some kind of trick here.

"Fine, two more minutes it is then."

"Weee…"

If he didn't kill her first that is.

So Wolf is now up for the grill.

Once again I apologize for the delay. On top of dealing with my own pack of brats in the classroom my brother 'borrowed' a bunch of my books, including my AR collection, and only just returned them. You are welcome to shoot him if you want.