Tales of the Tuckerverse:  Mother on Hold
by Zero

These are all tales of hijinks that Tucker has with his magical gizmo, which take place in what will be known from now on as the 'Tuckerverse'. You may want to read more of Tucker's tales from the beginning, or catch up on the latest chapter before continuing; the lead characters are introduced in the first story. There is also a chronological index to the series as well as a comprehensive Tuckerverse Wiki! [Ed.]

Authors' Note: We hope you've enjoyed the Clockwork and Tucker series' so far and hope you will continue to do so in the Tuckerverse!

 

Balfour Boutique, Santa Monica, California

            Michelle Gim organized the newest receipts she'd collected thanks to a couple of recent sales while behind the register at Balfour Boutique. The Decker State College cheerleader had gotten the job after saving its owner, Lexa Balfour, from Chetana Shenkar last month. Now Michelle had a job she could set her own hours for, was acting head cheerleader due to Rachel and Julie both being out of town, had a magic hourglass that could stop time and was the driving force behind a group that could potentially lead her to even more magic, now that she knew it existed. Life was good in Michelle's eyes.

            "I think today's going to be a good day," remarked Lexa Balfour, indicating the receipts. Lexa, a tanned blonde in her mid-thirties, was dressed in a white turtleneck and dark blue skinny jeans she swore Models Inc was currently promoting. Lexa's just-past shoulder-length hair was hanging loose today, though the right side was behind her ear.

            "We'll just have to see how you do when I leave," grinned Michelle.

            "All I know is if we make it this April and someone hasn't taken over the boutique for nefarious purposes I can finally relax," sighed Lexa, referring to the fact that twice in the last two months she'd had her boutique taken over by criminals who hidden people they'd kidnapped, including Lexa for a time, immobilized as mannequins in the store. Michelle had only been around for the second incident but the first break-in had been the one that had forced Lexa to temporarily run the whole place by herself.

            "Hey, I'm sure the people behind those times are gone, plus you’ve finally got a realistic mannequin of your own that’s not secretly a real person," commented Michelle, indicating one exotically beautiful display figure in particular. The mannequin was Chetana Shenkar, suspended in place, frozen by an overdose of Type-7. Lexa, for whatever reason, didn't seem to realize Chetana was exactly what Michelle had said she wasn't – a real person – though Michelle figured it was Lexa’s overly trusting nature. Michelle had learned that her boss had once been married, divorcing her husband when she'd found out he'd been hiding a massive gambling debt. In a way Michelle saw Lexa to be a bit like her opposite, being extremely trusting of people while Michelle knew most people were just out to get her and keep her down.

            "Yeah, speaking of I think she'd look great with a half-ponytail," agreed Lexa, moving over to do a little work on the human mannequin. Chetana was currently standing beside a rack of outfits dedicated to some French designs, her left hand on her hip with her right gesturing downwards, her hip swayed slightly to the left while a blank look was on her face. A straw hat was resting on the right side of Chetana's head and she was wearing a red and black wide plaid dress, one that reminded Michelle of classic Royal Stewart kilts. The dress's upper part was worn almost like a normal blouse while the skirt stopped just above the knees. Chetana's hair had been hanging loose, which was why Lexa was moving to correct it.

            "Good morning!" greeted Lexa as a new customer entered the store, one Michelle recognized. The woman was in her mid-thirties and was a blonde with brown eyes, her hair teased and resting comfortably just past her shoulders. The blonde was toned and thin, wearing black pants that were practically sprayed onto her legs as well as a white spaghetti-strap top that revealed her midriff. Few people would instantly assume that the woman, Tori Finlay, was technically a college professor, but Michelle knew better. Tori was a part of Decker State College's stage and theater division, being the head professor of dance.

            "Good morning to you," offered Tori, possessing a cool voice. The blonde's graze quickly darted around the store before locking eyes on Michelle, recognizing her as the cheerleader had done some classes with the professor. "Michelle, isn't it?" remarked Tori, moving up to the counter. "You're one of our cheerleaders..."

            "That's right Professor Finlay," nodded Michelle. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

            "I think I'll just browse for now," shrugged Tori, looking around the store. "I just thought I'd mention, that since you're here, that you need to smooth out your transition between arabesque and candle sticks." Michelle barely had time to process the remark before Tori turned away, smiling a somewhat cold and smug smile as she did, leaving Michelle dumbfounded. With Rachel and Julie currently gone, Michelle was the effective captain of the cheerleader squad and she was getting chewed out by someone who thought she was better just because she knew a couple of terms. Recalling that the Durga Hourglass was under her counter, Michelle had no problem inverting it moments later to stop time.  The world suddenly turned very quiet, almost muffled, at a standstill.

            Lexa stood behind Chetana, straightening the woman's hair now that it was in a half-ponytail, a relaxed smile on her face. Tori meanwhile was eying that very mannequin, her left foot forward with her right hand resting under her chin while her left supported her right elbow. Plastered on Tori's face was the same smug smile, her teeth showing with her lips curled up and an arrogant bend to her eyebrows. "I'll show you," muttered Michelle, wishing she could freeze the professor forever like Chetana, but well aware that it wasn't possible as the woman would be too easily missed.

            Approaching Tori, Michelle casually pushed the stiffened blonde over so she clattered to the floor like a fallen statue, her pose remaining the same as she lay on her left side. Tori wasn't carrying a purse; her pants had two bulges in the back which, upon inspection, turned out to be a wallet and a cellphone.  The teacher's car keys were inside the wallet. "I don't know why you pad your rear end with these things," muttered Michelle, tossing the items aside and rolling Tori onto her back. After reposing Tori so her arms were spread a small distance from her sides and her legs were flat against the floor Michelle working on her face, opening her mouth and glancing inside. "I see a cavity, naughty woman," commented Michelle, happy to have an advantage over the sexy professor before kissing her.

            "Not so superior when I can do this to you," mocked Michelle, then proceeding to feel Tori up. In her mind Michelle was checking for signs that Tori might be in on the mysterious conspiracy that seemed to be happening at her college, but in reality she was really just taking great pleasure in examining every look and cranny of the woman, noting any imperfections she spotted.

            "Someone's afraid of waxing I see, though not razors," observed Michelle, having reached Tori's pants and gotten a look inside. "Commando though; that takes courage." Not finding anything on the professor's body to indicate she might have taken Type-7 or anything with a needle, Michelle sighed and got off of her, going back to the professor’s wallet.

            "You keep your money at Gold Standard and have a membership to a fitness-slash-tanning center, neither of which is a shocker," commented Michelle, finishing with the wallet but deciding to take a five dollar bill it held just because she could. "Okay, lets get you moving again," sighed Michelle, standing Tori back up and returning her items to her pockets. Michelle remembered how Tori had been standing but elected to not arrange her like that again, figuring the small surprise over suddenly changing her pose might give Tori the scare she deserved.

            "I hope the rest of my day doesn't go like this," muttered Michelle, glad that her shift would soon be over.

* * *

Otaku LA, Los Angeles, California

            The Japanese-themed store was not Michelle's usual scene, she being more of a fan of American culture than any other, but it was the location her contact at Stone Enterprises had chosen so there she was, feigning an interest in a selection of DVDs, Blu-Rays and even a few old VHS tapes. Michelle had changed from her work clothes into a more casual outfit, wearing a white camouflage tank top under a black and white non-branded Letterman jacket, jeans on below. As a man approached, Michelle brushed the right side of her loose hair behind her ear, noting he had a certain charming look to him.

            "Can I help you make a selection?" asked the young man, whose nametag read 'JAMES.' The store lacked uniforms for their staff but Michelle noted the brown-haired, green-eyed James was wearing a Japanese sword on his back and seemed to be almost dressed like a hero from the cover of some of the DVDs she'd been looking at.

            "I'm alright, I wanted to wait for someone before deciding," offered Michelle, glancing at the sword.

            "Fair enough," nodded James, flashing Michelle a smile. "By the way, I did make this and a few others myself." As James spoke he tapped the sword on his back.

            "You must be talented," remarked Michelle, returning James's smile.

            "If you want, maybe sometime I could-" began James, Michelle wondering if he was going to exchange numbers with her, only to be cut-off when the person Michelle had been waiting for bumped by him.

            "Sorry I'm late," offered Sheila McGowan, patting Michelle on the shoulder. Sheila was pushing forty but quite attractive, a blue-eyed blonde with neither a thin nor voluptuous figure, being instead somewhere in between. The woman's long hair hung loose all around her head, parted in the center, and she was dressed in a black leather jacket and black dress pants, a black T-shirt under her open jacket.

            "I'll leave you two to it," offered James, moving away after giving Michelle one more glance.

            "He was cute," remarked Sheila, then turning to face the movie shelf with Michelle. "I didn't ruin anything did I?"

            "I don't think he was really my type," replied Michelle with a shrug, not disinterested in James but not about to be sad that she hadn't had the chance to give him her number. Glancing at Sheila's right hand, as she was to her left, Michelle saw she had a plastic bag. "Is that the new supply?" asked Michelle.

            "Of course," confirmed Sheila, casually putting the bag down next to her. "I came straight from the lab to get this to you. Would be nice if we weren't trying to keep this such a secret."

            "You're the one who doesn't want to meet at someone's home or at Stone Drug Labs," fired back Michelle. "Besides, Type-7 still isn't FDA approved. Technically you shouldn't be giving this to anyone who isn't a certified researcher."

            "That's true," nodded Sheila, pulling one DVD from the shelf. "Makes me wonder why Dr. Hamilton cleared you and the rest of your group to receive any in the first place."

            "Hey, just because you're her assistant director doesn't mean she needs to tell you everything," chuckled Michelle. "Besides, didn't you end up also accidentally donating some to a person who was later arrested for posession?"

            "Guilty," sighed Sheila, hefting the DVD in her hands. "Well, at least I've got a new show for my collection. Enjoy your product." With that Sheila departed, leaving the plastic bag next to Michelle. Heedless of how she looked, Michelle collected the bag and headed for the door. Sheila was at the cash register; paying a dirty blonde whose nametag read 'KRYSTAL' for the DVD she was buying. James was talking with some other customer but mouthed the words 'come again' to Michelle as she left. For her part, Michelle offered James a nod and a smile as she exited the store.

* * *

Building 2 of the Decker State College Student Apartments, Malibu, California

            "Once again you're the first one here," remarked Sandy Vanholt as she let Michelle Gim into her apartment; the big table with four chairs was already set up with a pitcher of water, glasses and some miniature rice cakes on it. The blonde was dressed extra casually for a change, sporting a loose white T-shirt with the face of Lindsay Yari printed on it and a pair of dark-green sweatpants on around her waist, her hair pulled back into a higher ponytail that swirled as she turned her head.

            "I did get our latest supplies," revealed Michelle, holding up the bag she'd gotten from Sheila as she slipped off her purse, placing it on the back of her usual chair. "About a gallon total from the feel of the weight, eight bottles probably at around half a liter each."

            "I really need to thank Erika again," smiled Sandy, referring to the connection that allowed their group, the so-called Scooby Gang, to even get their hands on Type-7. Placing the bag on the table, Michelle started to remove bottles from it as Sandy hovered close; Michelle noted an odd look on her face.

            "What's with you?" asked Michelle.

            "Since when do you care?" snapped Sandy, giving Michelle a glare. Michelle had figured out some time ago that Sandy had been dosing members of the gang with Type-7 so she could play with them after they were frozen and was now lording that knowledge over Sandy's head, making their relationship tense.

            "Look, we need to work together to figure out just what's going on around here, so if you've got a problem and it could affect our efforts I have to ask," replied Michelle, trying to sound sincere. In reality Michelle was just always happy to hear sad stories from Sandy; they brought the former sorority head back down to human levels. The reality was that knowing about Sandy's dirt laundry actually made Michelle like her more.

            "My mom's coming to visit," revealed Sandy, sighing a bit. "It probably means we'll need to talk about dad's trial." Michelle saw the pain on Sandy's face and was going to say something uplifting, only to get cut-off by the sound of the intercom. Rubbing her moist eyes, Sandy moved to answer the phone and moment later triggered the door below, opening up the building for whoever had just arrived.

            "I was going to say, no matter what you have to talk about, isn't seeing her still nice?" offered Michelle, saying what she'd wanted to say earlier.

            "I suppose," shrugged Sandy. "I just... my life's been so messed up lately and she's just going to remind me about one of the reasons why." Were Sandy not useful, given her connection to Erika Stone and Stone Enterprises, Michelle might have given her a backhanded compliment. Given the circumstances however, Michelle went with a comforting hand on Sandy's shoulder.

            "I'm sure this will help you get past it," Michelle told her quasi-friend, getting a smile in return. To her surprise Sandy even went as far as to put her hand on top of Michelle's, but anything else that could have been said or occurred was stopped by a knocking at the door.

            "I'll get that," mumbled Sandy, Michelle noticing the blonde’s cheeks were a bit red as she went to answer the door. Shrugging, Michelle sat down as two women greeted Sandy.

            "And hello to you Michelle, or acting captain," greeted Pamela Flipspatrick as she moved to sit at the table, plopping her laptop down in front of her spot. Pam's red hair was extra curly for a change and hung free; the cheerleader was dressed in a teal short-sleeved blouse and a tan knee-length skirt.

            "Job interview?" asked Michelle, indicating the outfit.

            "Date, though I doubt it'll go anywhere," revealed Pam. Michelle then noticed her lipstick was a darker red than usual. "Guy from my database course finally asked me out to a nice restaurant. He seems okay but he'll probably just end up a friend, the kind I can get to help me with tough assignments and occasionally buy me a coffee." Michelle smiled at the remark, she herself was more than familiar with the manipulation of others through the possibility of romance.

            "Pretty brave, dressing up before the afternoon is over," commented Sandra Packlin, sitting down at her own spot after putting down her manila folder. As usual the professor had her hair up in a loose bun, her librarian-style glasses over her eyes while wearing a red blazer over a white blouse with a black skirt and pantyhose on down below.

            "I want to give everything a chance to settle, so he knows I knew exactly how to dress for him hours ahead of time," explained Pam as Sandy sat down at her own place in between her and Sandra. "So, shall we get started?"

            "Yes, I wanted to hear how the investigation on Ayane went," agreed Michelle, Sandra and Sandy nodding in turn.

            "Sorry to say, I didn't come up with anything," confessed Pam. "She's an odd girl, and so is her roommate, but they seem clean. Still I think someone with the Raptors might be up to something. I'd like to start investigating some others on the team next."

            "Seconded," agreed Sandy.

            "Okay, we know who we're going to investigate today then," noted Michelle, glancing around. "I'm thinking we should start with the heads of the team, say the coach and the captain?"

            "We did already clear Julie, but her sister could be hiding something," observed Sandra, looking at her hard-copy notes. "It would probably be easy for me to check out the coach, so I can handle that."

            "Okay, the three of us can raid, um, what's the sister's name?" agreed Sandy, then directing the question at Pam.

            "Katherine Vaughn, but she's usually called Kat," answered Pam. "She seems pretty well balanced, like Julie did, but you never know... right?"

            "Better safe than sorry," agreed Sandra, getting nods from Sandy and Michelle as well. "I should also mention I'm going to try and visit the Fetishist Wax Museum again sometime soon and see if what happened to you two a while back has happened to anyone else since." Sandra was referring to an incident in which the cheerleaders broke into the museum in October to steal a wax figure for a Halloween prank, only to all start freezing themselves like they were part of the displays.

            "Perfect; I think that will set us up nicely going forward," declared Michelle. "We do have a fresh supply of Type-7 from our benefactors so we can use that to deal with our targets. I've scheduled some time in a chem lab this afternoon so I'll use that equipment to convert it into gas."

            "Oh, pardon me," Sandy suddenly said, her cellphone chirping. As Sandy headed for her kitchen, she gave Michelle a gesture with her hand that she took to mean to follow the blonde.

            "I think I'll use this opportunity to blow my nose," announced Michelle, getting up from the table to follow Sandy. Pam shot Michelle a surprised look while Sandra didn't seem to notice, instead focusing on her collection of notes.

            "No its fine, I understand," Sandy was speaking into her cellphone as Michelle joined her in the kitchen. "I'll see you in a couple." Hanging up, Sandy looked at Michelle with panic on her face. "That was my mom," revealed Sandy. "She's here – now!"

            "Can't we just step outside while you talk to her?" asked Michelle, not seeing the problem.

            "She'll ask too many questions!" insisted Sandy. "Look, I've got something that will let us take care of the others, but you have to promise me you'll hide!" Michelle thought Sandy was overreacting but, seeing the genuine fear in her eyes, decided she'd play along and get the blonde back later.

            "Okay, what's the plan?" asked Michelle, glancing back to make sure Pam and Sandra hadn't heard them. Luckily sound didn't seem to travel that far in the apartment so it seemed both women were still going about their work.

            "These," revealed Sandy, pulling out a couple of objects from a drawer. Looking at them, Michelle knew they were chips, devices that could be used to regulate effects of Type-7 in people, but feigned ignorance.

            "What are those?" shrugged Michelle.

            "They'll freeze someone if they are placed on them," explained Sandy, indicating the small needles on the underside of the devices. "These regulate Type-7 in the body. Even better, if placed on the back of someone’s neck, near their hairline, we can control them." Michelle was taken aback by the last part, not aware that's what Chips did, only aware of a special remote could unfreeze or freeze people that wore them with the press of a button. Even so, the outlandish claims made sense to Michelle, having heard stories that Ashley Tisdale had somehow turned people into slaves.

            "Okay, lets go," insisted Michelle, taking a device from Sandy. For her trouble Michelle got another big smile from Sandy as they headed back to the table.

            "Sorry, it was Amber," lied Sandy, moving to approach Sandra as Michelle in turn headed for Pam. "So lets see what you've got on the Raptor squad..." Michelle watched from behind Pam as Sandy slowly slid her hand up and then pressed her chip against the Sandra back of Sandra's neck, promptly causing her to go completely rigid. Michelle lacked an open path to the back of Pam's neck so she instead went with placing the chip on her bare arm, the effect none the less the same. Sandra sat still with her, lifting a paper with her right hand, her left raised up after having been pressed flat against the table, her gaze fixed on the paper while her face otherwise seemed blank. Pam meanwhile had a smile frozen on her lips with her own gaze fixed on the computer in front of her, her fingers hovering over the keys.

            "Okay, lets hide them in my room," suggested Sandy, removing the paper from Sandra's firm grasp. "Watch this... Sandra, stand up." Michelle watched in surprise as Sandra did as she was told, her eyes remaining blank as she casually stood up straight, practically at attention. Michelle meanwhile had placed the chip on Pamela's arm, where it could not control her, so just stood her up, then started to drag her towards Sandy's room feet first; Pam’s arms were still positioned as if at a keyboard.

            "We should give her some Type-7 and move the chip to where it should be, otherwise she might unfreeze early," suggested Sandy, grabbing a bottle from the table. "Sandra, follow me," she commanded.  Sure enough, as Sandy headed for her room the professor followed, moving stiffly and mechanically but none the less moving on her own.

            "Stop," Sandy ordered when the group arrived in her room, causing Sandra to once again stand automatically at attention. Taking the bottle from Sandy, Michelle opened it and poured some Type-7 into Pam's mouth, then moving the control chip from her arm to the back of her neck.

            "Perfect," nodded Sandy, looking at the military-like stance of Sandra and oddly posed Pamela. "Okay, I'll clean up and deal with my mom, just please be quiet."

            "Of course," agreed Michelle, waving her off. To her surprise, Michelle then found herself getting a quick hug from Sandy, a whisper of thanks tickling her ear before the blonde stepped back and closed the bedroom door.

            Not about to let the opportunity to learn more about Sandy's situation go by without so much as a peep, Michelle lay down on the floor of the bedroom and put her ear to the crack under the door. At first all Michelle could hear was Sandy quickly cleaning up but almost a minute later there was a knock at the door; Michelle was curious how the mother got in without a buzzer.

            "Hi mom!" Michelle heard Sandy exclaim as there was a distinct click of the door opening. "I was expecting to have to buzz you in..."

            "A very handsome young man was kind enough to hold the door open for me as he left," came the response. Michelle was paying distinct attention to Katrina's voice. In a moment it was clear where Sandy had gotten some of her less than desirable characteristics, from the way Katrina's voice sounded arrogant and smug even while talking normally. The sound of the door closing was then heard.

            "So what's this about?" asked Sandy. "Daddy's trial? I know you finished your testimony yesterday..."

            "Yes, and now we just have to sit through at least another month of witnesses before your father's defense can even be presented," confirmed Katrina; then footsteps heard as the pair seemed to be pacing. "He asked me to make sure neither one of us are there for that. He emphasized that he wanted me to make sure you were taken care of."

            "Now that some of our assets are unfrozen I'm not doing so bad," admitted Sandy. "It's nice that my trust fund was released..."

            "Yes, and I still have my own earnings from Gold Standard," added Katrina. "The problem is the bank has asked that I take some time off, stay out of the public eye and make it look like I've more or less disowned your father."

            "You haven't, have you?" asked Sandy, her voice getting quiet.

            "I don't know Alexandra, I just don't know," sighed Katrina, before a few shuffling sounds were then heard. "He didn't just lie to me about how he was using his donations and office... he also has had affairs. That came out yesterday."

            "No!" exclaimed Sandy. "He... cheated on you?!"

            "Apparently with at least three members of his staff," confirmed Katrina. "I thought the money he was being charged for embezzling was just to get us a little extra money... but it started as a way for him to finance his affairs without my noticing it on our bank statements."

            "My testimony was pretty straight-forward; they just had me question where the money did come from, not where it went to," recalled Sandy. "So they saved this fact for you?"

            "There's even more," confessed Katrina. "Your father... the affairs... the staffers were men."

            "Oh no..." whimpered Sandy. "So this all happened because dad... wasn't able to admit who he was?"

            "A gay Republican senator?" remarked Katrina. "The party would have torn his re-election to shreds."

            "Did... did you know about any of this?" asked Sandy.

            "There's a reason your father and I never tried for another child," admitted Katrina. "We both love you dearly... but I don't think we've ever really been more than good friends."

            "This..." muttered Sandy with a whimper. Michelle now able to hear what sounded like sobs.

            "I am sorry Sandy, but again, we both love you dearly and would never change our minds about having you," Katrina told her daughter, Michelle hoping there was at least a shoulder on hand for that. "I wasn't really looking for a husband, I just felt I needed one to look better to the executives. Your father, at the same time, was looking for someone to make his municipal campaigns more viable. For a while I did think there was proper love there, and I still do... just not the romantic kind."

            "So, not only do I find out my father cheated on my mother, but it’s okay because he's gay and you never really loved him the way you hope parents do," sobbed Sandy. "Thank you mom, for making this so much worse!"

            "It was better you hear it from me than on the news!" shouted back Katrina. "You want some reporter from GNA to come up and ask how it feels to know your father's been in the closet since probably before you were born?!"

            "No, but that doesn't mean I'm happy to hear it from you!" screamed Sandy, silence then following. Michelle heard some more shuffling but she wasn't sure what it was.

            "I'm sorry," Michelle finally heard Katrina say. "You don't deserve this, my little Alexandra..."

            "You know, you're the only one who ever calls me that," whispered back Sandy. "I love you, mom."

            "I love you too, sweetie," Katrina told Sandy. "Look, I... I was going to get away for a while, try and figure out how to spin this for the bank and make sure we're going to be okay. It's still early but your father could go away to prison for several years; the odds aren't good."

            "So what are you going to do?" asked Sandy, sniffing a bit. "Special vacation?"

            "I'm going to fly light to Hawaii tonight, then probably rent a ship or join a cruise somewhere," admitted Katrina. "Stay out of the public’s eye. When I get back, we'll go over this some more, figure out what to do."

            "Okay," sighed Sandy. "No cell phone?"

            "I'm sorry, but I think after all this we both need some time," confirmed Katrina.

            "I understand, and I love you," managed Sandy, a silence following for another moment.

            "I love you too Alexandra," replied Katrina a minute later. "I'll see you when I get back. Whatever happens... we're a family."

            "Yeah," breathed Sandy as the door was heard opening. As soon as the door closed Michelle knew what she had to do, quickly pulling out her hourglass out and stopping time. Pamela and Sandra were as still as they'd been when they'd first arrived in the room, but the world itself had fallen silent, letting Michelle relax a bit and stand up.

            "Well that was enlightening," mused the cheerleader, then scanning Sandy's room for the first time since she'd entered. Michelle hadn't noticed it earlier but there were a pair of feet visible inside her open closet, sticking out from behind the rack of dresses and other outfits.

            "Who is this?" questioned Michelle, pushing the clothes aside. A blonde woman in a tank top and green camouflage pants was posed inside the closet, her legs spread to shoulder-width with army boots on her feet. The woman had two pistols raised up to shoulder height; both leaned slightly away so the sides of the pistols were visible. The tank top revealed the woman's belly and blank dog tags were around her neck. The woman looked to be in her thirties and had her blonde hair permed, being about shoulder-length at the front and a bit shorter at the back. The woman had blue eyes that stared intensely ahead, her pink lips were parted to show a hint of teeth. The woman was Peggy Sharp, captain of the Decker State College campus police, posed and dressed exactly like a photo of her on a poster seen around campus. Michelle recalled the poster very vividly as she looked at the frozen woman.


            "My my, Sandy, I see you're still at it," noted Michelle, reaching around back of Peggy's neck and finding a chip present there too. Captain Sharp had always come off a bit holier-than-thou to Michelle, happily flexing her authority whenever it suited her and seemingly getting by on her looks and her track record.

            "Being good at your job doesn't make you a good person," spat Michelle, pulling Peggy out from the closet. Removing the guns from her grip, Michelle then pushed Peggy onto Sandy's bed back first. Michelle toyed with doing more but then had a thought, recalling that anything she touched while time was stopped wouldn't freeze with her. Digging a couple of her own chips out from her bag, Michelle headed out into the living room.

            Sandy was motionless, leaning against the back of her couch, her hands on top while she bent at the waist, a frown on her face as she glanced at the closed door to her apartment. With the blonde's hair in a ponytail it was easy for Michelle to plant a chip on the back of her neck, then drag her by her waist back into her bedroom. Michelle then stood Sandy upright but, for the moment, left her arms and expression as they had been, not needing to adjust anything just yet.

            Passing through the living room, Michelle opened the apartment door and saw that Katrina hadn't gotten very far at all. The mother of Sandy, a brunette in her mid-forties, was suspended in mid-stride, a simple pink blouse with rolled-up sleeves on top while below she was wearing white tennis shorts that stopped halfway to her knees, which were a surprise since the weather had been cold lately. Indeed quite a bit of Katrina's outfit suggested she was going to play tennis, wearing white shoes appropriate for the sport with her somewhat curly hair pulled back in a low ponytail, a white visor on her head. Katrina's purse was also white and looked to be made of some sort of fine material, Michelle unsure of what but it didn't look like leather. Katrina's face was oddly smiling, her blue eyes sparkling as she stood posed in mid-step, her right hand holding her purse at that side while her left arm was up at chest height, her hand loose, her right foot raised while her left knee was bent.

            "You seem quite happy to be leaving your daughter for quite a while," remarked Michelle. "Shame on you." With that, a chip was placed on the back of Katrina's neck and the bank executive was reposed, positioned to stand with her legs together and her left arm to be at her side. With Katrina no easier to move, Michelle dragged the older woman on her heels back into Sandy's apartment, bringing her into the bedroom.

            "This should be fun," noted Michelle, picking up her hourglass and positioning herself so she could touch all of her companions at once. Sandy, Katrina, Sandra and Pam were all lined up with Michelle's left arm resting atop their shoulders, the four women practically pressed together. At the same time Peggy's feet were touching Michelle's knee. Ready to go, Michelle quickly unfroze and then froze time with a twirl of the hourglass.

            "Lets see if this worked," muttered Michelle, looking at her small row of women. "Katrina, take one step forward." With her back to Michelle, Katrina did as ordered, taking one step away from her daughter.

            "Yes!" exclaimed Michelle, moving around to get a look at Katrina's face. Sandy's mother's face had gone blank, like Sandy's had after getting her first order.

            "Okay, Sandy, Sandra, Pam, Katrina, I want you all to spread out and undress yourselves," ordered Michelle, laughing with glee as the women did what was asked of them. Everyone had a blank face, like they were hypnotized, but slowly undressed themselves.

            "This is perfect," giggled Michelle, putting her hourglass down on Sandy's nightstand. Soon the women were down to their underwear but then, to Michelle's surprise, they kept going, leaving everyone in the buff when they finally stopped.

            "So orders have to be specific," noted Michelle, reclining on the bed next to the still-frozen Peggy. "Okay... I want to have some fun but I don't think I'll go for incest. Sandra, I want you to go over to Katrina and start kissing her." To her surprise, Sandra didn't respond correctly, instead just starting to circle the other three women.

            "Of course, she doesn't know who you are," realized Michelle, slapping her head. "Okay, Sandra, freeze." As ordered, Sandra suddenly froze in mid-step, her arms at her sides. "Katrina, I want you to let down the hair of the women standing up and then start making out with the brunette." Katrina seemed to click to life and let Sandy's hair down, then moving on to Sandra. As the professor's hair rested against her skin, Katrina leaned in and began to kiss this the frozen Sandra.

            "Pam, Sandy, start having sex on the floor," Michelle then ordered, not wanting to be subtle anymore and really see what the chips could do. "Sandra, return the kissing." Pam and Sandy moved towards one another and promptly collapsed to the floor in an embrace, Michelle then watching in delight as the pair started to stimulate each other with their hands. Sandra meanwhile had placed her hands on Katrina's shoulders and was giving her quite a bit back, the older women really getting into it.

            "I guess that leaves you and me," Michelle told Peggy, rolling on top of the police captain. "I think I'll call this payback for when you bugged me about leaving the campus late at night in my uniform." Interlocking her hands with Peggy's, Michelle aggressively kissed the blonde for a moment before stopping.

            "Peggy, you're in love with me and want to really make love with me, right here and right now," Michelle ordered Peggy. The blank gaze of the captain's suddenly seemed to contain some flicker of life, the woman squeezed Michelle's hands with her own and wrapping her legs around the cheerleader's back, pulling her in for a long kiss.

            "I want to fuck you like there's no tomorrow," declared Peggy, sounding almost like a robot after she broke the kiss.

* * *

            Michelle knew she needed to watch her hourglass's sand, so after spending a few minutes cuddling with Peggy she told everyone to freeze and inspected her time. With roughly one third of the sand gone, Michelle figured forty minutes had passed and she liked to play it safe, so she'd start cleaning up. Parting the interlocked lips of Katrina and Sandra, Michelle saw their mouths were chapped so she loaned them some stick before ordering them to start getting dressed. Pam and Sandy, by Michelle's estimate, had each had at least two orgasms and were working on a third. Michelle ordered Patricia to just get dressed while she had Sandy clean up the stains, which was hard to do since time was frozen. Eventually, Michelle just told Sandy to wet a paper towel in the kitchen using the water jug in the fridge, which just left Peggy. While Michelle was worried Sandy was playing a dangerous game, having the security captain chipped even temporarily, the cheerleader decided it was the social outcast's problem and had Peggy dress herself. Peggy was then made to assume her original pose and told to freeze, Michelle then returned the rigid figure to her place in the closet.

            "I guess I'd better... actually," realized Michelle, stopping herself from just stating the obvious. Looking at Katrina and remembering both her voice and the haughty look she'd had when she'd been leaving, Michelle knew the bank executive would make a great mannequin at the Balfour Boutique. Lexa had asked Michelle to try and find her some more ultra-realistic ones, like Chetana, even getting some variety. Katrina was in her early forties but still looked pretty good so Michelle figured she'd appeal to the older women who shopped at the boutique.

            "Sandy, Pamela, Sandra, freeze," ordered Michelle, leaving the three members of the Scooby Gang frozen while standing more or less at attention with their hair down; Sandra's glasses were in her coat pocket. "Katrina, follow me," Michelle then ordered, pleased to see the older brunette doing as she was told. With her hourglass inverted in her purse, Michelle led Katrina out of the apartment.

            The previous time Michelle had transported someone from Sandy's apartment to her own in Building 3 it had been easy, the locked doors had been open. This time, however, Michelle had been forced to restart time since she’d been unable to get inside her building until the electronic lock was unfrozen, though it did mean she'd be able to use the elevator. To Michelle's fortune no one seemed to notice that Katrina was moving very mechanically as they quietly got into the elevator and rode up to the right floor. It was upon arrival to the third floor that Michelle's luck faded; someone she knew had just exited her own room and entered the elevator.

            "Michelle!" exclaimed Brianne Walsh, one of the cheerleader squad's veteran members. The brown-haired, blue-eyed belle practically ran up to her squad-mate, giving her an unwelcome hug. Brianne's hair was currently very straight and she was wearing a yellow sundress, one with short sleeves and which hugged her chest fairly well in spite of being loose everywhere else. Brianne was also wearing a long necklace made up of linked squares of black quartz, one Michelle remembered seeing a few times before. The most humorous touch to Brianne's outfit, at least in Michelle's eyes, was the visible pocket on the dress that looked to contain her keys, wallet and phone.

            "How are you, Brianne?" greeted Michelle.

            "Not bad, was going to pay a visit to my tutor and then have a night out, just by myself," revealed Brianne, her southern accent on strong. "Say, who's yore silent friend?"

            "Oh, this is Katrina," offered Michelle, placing her left hand onto Katrina's arm as she reached into her purse with her right.

            "Pleased to meet you!" exclaimed Brianne, extending her left hand to shake Katrina's while flashing a bright smile. It was then that Michelle stopped time, not even giving Brianne a chance to wonder why Katrina didn't return the handshake.

            "Stupid hick, why did she have to leave her room just right now," grumbled Michelle, rubbing her forehead. Michelle then had a thought; glancing over at Katrina who, thanks to physical contact, wasn't frozen. "Katrina, I want you to pick up this woman and follow me while carrying her."

            Katrina said nothing, instead reaching down and slinging Brianne over her right shoulder, her arm wrapped around the girl's knees as her white platform sandals fell off, Brianne's hand was still extended. Michelle picked up Brianne's shoes and chuckled as she saw Katrina following her as she headed down the hall. Upon reaching her room, Michelle unlocked the door and led Katrina inside.

            "Put her down gently, stand her upright," ordered Michelle, with Katrina again obeying robotically. Brianne was made to stand up right near Michelle's door, still posed with a smile and an open hand though now shoeless, Michelle tossed the footwear onto her couch as she headed into her room. A few moments later Michelle returned with a personal bottle of Type-7 she still had as well as a remote for the chips. Pressing the freeze command on the remote, she saw Katrina visibly stiffen while standing at attention. Michelle then moved Katrina to stand on the other side of her door and dragged Brianne over to the couch, leaning her down on it back first.

            "Have a sip," mocked Michelle, pouring some of the Type-7 drug though Brianne's teeth and into her mouth. Eventually after nearly a quarter of the bottle was gone Michelle stopped and, flipping her hourglass in her purse, unfroze time. The Type-7 instantly took effect; Michelle didn’t even see Brianne's eyes blink as she was instantly immobilized.  Because of the large dose, she wasn’t going to start moving on her own for a very long time.

            "Good little mannequin, you can stay like that for a while, and remember why I'm in charge now," Michelle told the still-smiling Brianne, patting her on the face. Just as Michelle considered messing with Brianne a bit before returning to Sandy's building, music suddenly blared from next-door, the telltale sign that her neighbor Maxine Reed had once again decided to ignore building noise violations. Max, as she was known in school, was a drum major, and one thing Michelle really hated about living in her building.

            "Screw this," muttered Michelle, pulling another chip from her purse. In total Michelle had received eight when she'd captured Chetana, four being for the Scooby Gang, three being on people at Balfour Boutique and one extra she'd had on her. So far only Sandy and Katrina were the only ones using her supply so Michelle easily had one to spare to deal with her disorderly neighbor.

            Going next door, Michelle pounded on Maxine's door until the noise abruptly stopped. A few moments later the brown-haired, green-eyed freshman opened her door, clad only in a gray spaghetti top and black pajama bottoms that had white stars on them. The good news for Michelle was that Max had her hair up in a high ponytail, leaving her neck exposed. "Too loud?" asked Maxine, sounding extremely condescending.

            "Yes, again," was Michelle's terse reply.

            "I'm a music major; I have to practice," insisted Maxine, crossing her arms so only her bare, green-nailed feet held the door open. "Do I complain when I hear you reciting those ridiculous cheers of yours?"

            "You know your window's starting to crack?" lied Michelle, pointing behind Maxine. As the brunette turned to look over her left shoulder Michelle pounced, placing a chip on the back of Max's neck.  Max froze in that awkward position.

            "Go get your keys and then lock your front door from the outside," ordered Michelle, stepping back. Max lowered her arms and moved like a robot, disappearing inside her apartment only to quickly emerge with keys in her right hand. After the door closed Max locked it with her key, then stopped, awaiting an order after the clicking sound was heard.

            "Give me your keys and then follow me," Michelle commanded next, extending her hand. Max did as she was told and turned over her keys, proceeding to follow Michelle into her own apartment.

            "And this should give me time to have a nap later before we gas a room," decided Michelle, freezing Max with her remote after they were safely inside the apartment. Like Katrina, Max was frozen while standing at attention, something that made Michelle frown. "No fun," decided the cheerleader, inspecting Max's body. "Let me fix this." First Michelle tilted Max's head up a bit, then she raised up her arms in front of her as if she were carrying a barrel, though her fingers came close but didn't touch. Finally Michelle raised up Max's left leg and rested her left heel on her right knee, managing to keep the music major balanced. As a result it looked like Maxine was in the middle of doing a ballet-style twirl.

            "Don't go anywhere!" laughed Michelle, patting Max on the cheek before grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

* * *

Floor 2 of the Decker State College's Decker Hall, Malibu, California

            Once again her meeting with the Scooby Gang had felt off, but Sandra didn't think anything sinister had happened. The doctor of business had agreed to deal with Glenda Peyton by herself, figuring her being outside the coach's office would be less suspicious than three girls who had little or nothing to do with her. Michelle had gone over with Sandra to a chemistry lab shortly after the meeting to convert the liquid Type-7 into gaseous form and loaded it into a simple device, a sort of crude fog machine that was silent, releasing its contents via a small hose instead of a big nozzle. The main problem Sandra was facing was that she could hear Glenda arguing with someone inside her office and not a minute ago had seen someone else go in as well, so Packlin had to decide if she'd gas everyone there or wait until Glenda was alone.

            Sandra looked at her watch and then back the office door. The business professor had papers to grade; she didn't have time to wait for the impromptu meeting to be over. The hallway Sandra was in was deserted for now but she didn't want to chance someone coming up on her, deciding it was better to do it now. Sandra quickly got to work, setting up the gym bag that carried the fog machine in it on the ground next to the office door. Unzipping the bag, Sandra removed the small hose and slyly slid it under the crack under the door. Sandra then removed two towels and stuffed them into the length of the space under the door and around the hose. Making sure there were no gaps, Sandra clicked on the machine. Michelle, who had been in the office once, told Sandra that there was only two vents and no windows. The vents acted as a source for A/C and heat, so if the crack under the door was properly stuffed they would only need a few moments before the Type-7 took effect. Michelle had rigged the machine to automatically turn off when it was empty so Sandra just had to wait for the humming to cease.

            Sandra pressed her ear against the door and she could still hear the arguing. From the voices she could pick out it sounded like the argument was about grades. The business doctor tried to listen harder to see what exactly was being discussed when all the sudden the argument abruptly stopped and a second later the hum of the machine went silent. Kneeling back down, Sandra quickly removed the towels from under the door and withdrew the tube. Stuffing all the contents back into the bag and zipping it up, Sandra then stood and knocked on the door. As expected, there was no answer and Sandra knocked again only harder, still getting no response. "Excuse me, Miss Peyton?" Sandra said as she slowly opened the door, not stepping past the threshold. Michelle had warned the business instructor to not enter right away and let the room air out a bit. While recalling Michelle's sage advice, Sandra began to wonder if the cheerleader was being too clever, possibly even being one of the very people they were supposed to be hunting. Sandra quickly pushed that thought out of her head as she eyed the unmoving scene before her and smiling. "It worked…" Sandra whispered.

            The three women standing in the small office looked as posed as if they were wax statues. Glenda Peyton, the girls' soccer coach, stood behind her desk with a scowl on her face and her hands on her hips. Glenda's blonde hair was tied into a simple high ponytail; she was wearing an orange polo with a black Raptor logo over the right breast and khaki shorts. Trendy orange cross-trainers and white ankles socks completed the coach's outfit. The woman with whom Glenda had been arguing Sandra knew as fellow department head and athletic tutor Piper Cross. Piper was Sandra's senior by a few years and had been a tenured professor at the school since the early nineties. Piper was pale-skinned with shoulder-length dark brown hair that curled inward. The tutor wore thick-framed fashion glasses over her hazel eyes and was dressed in a black skirt-suit with matching black pumps. Piper stood with one hand in a fist on her hip while the other hand held a folder towards the coach. The tutor's mouth was held open and her eyes were filled with vacant rage thanks, to the quick-acting Type-7 gas. The last woman in the room Sandra didn't know too well but she was younger than herself, being in her late thirties and the head of the history department. The third woman's name was Dr. Nadine Vargas, if Sandra remembered correctly. Nadine had transferred to Decker State College earlier in the year to take over the department from Felix Tombs, who retired prior to her arrival. Nadine possessed lush black hair that she wore loose that fell down past her shoulder blades, the dark hair contrasting well with her fair skin. Nadine was dressed in a dark blue V-neck top, tucked into gray slim-fitting trousers over black ankle-heeled boots. Nadine stood frozen stiff, shifted on her right hip with her hands behind her back holding a folder. The history professor bore a serious look on face, her lips slightly parted and blank dark eyes staring at Glenda.

            Hearing some voices down the hallway coming towards her Sandra quickly looked at her watch, not knowing if enough time had passed yet for the air to clear. The voices were getting closer so Sandra took a chance and quickly stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Sandra leaned on the door for a moment, staring at the three motionless women before her. The voices passed behind Sandra on the other side of the door. It was nearly a minute later when Sandra determined the room was clear since, she hadn't ended up becoming a statue herself as she looked at the still-photo-like scene before her. Slowly letting out a breath, Sandra sighed in relief, putting the gym bag down by the door and then locking it.

            The office was small and simple. The walls contained a large clock, some soccer posters of the Lady Raptors, more posters of famous professional players and a dry-erase board on the back wall. Against one wall were two filing cabinets and on the opposite wall from them was a small sofa. On the sofa was a folded blanket and pillow; Sandra guessed that Glenda sometimes slept in the office like she herself had at times wished to do. There was a small TV at one corner of the sofa and a water cooler at the other. Taking up most of the space in the office was Glenda's desk, which was an old metal one left over from the seventies by the look it. There was a flat screen monitor on desk as well as a keyboard and wireless mouse. Papers and files covered the rest of the surface. Behind the desk was a high-backed leather swivel chair that looked out of place in the dated office while two simple wooden armchairs sat in front of the desk.

            Sandra started her snooping in the file cabinets, edging past Glenda’s stiffened body, at first finding it awkward, but that feeling quickly passed as her curiosity got the better of her. Sandra wanted to know if Glenda was involved in the strange activities at school or not, but the cabinets didn't yield anything, only revealing that Glenda didn't know how file and organize her papers. The desk was a bust as well as Sandra didn't know what she was looking at. In the desk's drawer Sandra found a flesh-colored dildo and a vibrator hidden behind some magazines, plus there was a large assortment of junk food and a bottle of vodka. Other than the hidden vices, the desk's contents were things one would expect to find in a coach's desk.

             "Well I guess you're innocent, Ms. Peyton… though I think you're a bit lonely too…" Sandra said, looking at Glenda's scowling face and her blankly staring blue eyes. Sandra then looked across at Piper. "I wonder…" muttered Sandra, taking the file from Piper's stiff hands, flipping through the contents after doing so. "I see Britney Summers is in danger of failing English as well as Danica Riley," observed Sandra, closing the folder and putting it down on the desk. The only unfrozen person in the room then moved to Nadine and snatched the folder that she held behind her back and flipped through it as well. "Melody Donavan has skipped two classes and has been late for three," Sandra remarked, closing the folder and placing it on the desk. "You know if Melody misses one more class she fails the course right?" Sandra asked Glenda, but smiling after getting no response. Sandra hated when people talked back to her so it was nice for a change to be able to just talk and not hear any yapping afterward.

            Heading towards the door, disappointed that her search had turned up with nothing useful, Sandra picked up the gym bag and was about to unlock the door when an idea hit her. Putting the bag back down, Sandra turned to face the three unmoving women. According to Michelle the dose of Type-7 in the gas was enough to keep them frozen for two more hours or so. "Maribel called my claims of unusual events isolated and odd," recalled Sandra, referring to her reports of blanking out and waking up naked and embarrassed several times. The human resources supervisor still called Sandra's claims ‘isolated’ even when on the very day it was reported Maribel had fallen victim to a strange experience too. Sandra felt at the moment that the only way to get through to Maribel was if more professors and faculty complained about the goings-on. "It's time that my claims were taken seriously and you three ladies are going to help me," announced Sandra to the silent room with a grin, it finally being able to let go of the frustration she was feeling, since she had felt like she was the only professor being violated.

            After thinking for a moment, Sandra moved over to Glenda and dragged the coach over to the little sofa. Sandra then sat the coach down and found it extremely fulfilling to control the woman with such ease, Glenda Peyton being just like a large doll. Sandra could even mold Glenda's facial expression, which she changed into a sleepy look. The coach was seated with her hands still on her hips, a scowl on her face, though the scowl now looked like it had been caught mid-blink, and her legs extended stiffly like a mannequin in front of her off the sofa's edge. Sandra removed the coach's shoes and peeled off her socks, rendering her feet bare and then raising the woman's arms to remove the polo and the black sport bra underneath. Topless, Glenda was stood back up with her arms still raised over her head as her shorts were removed. "No underwear? " smirked Sandra, looking up at Glenda's sleepy face. "Kind of loose are we?" With Glenda naked, Sandra laid her down on the sofa and put both arms behind her head. Sandra also pulled the coach's ponytail loose and messed up her hair a bit, then bending one leg at the knee while the other one was stretched wide and off the sofa. Sandra's adjustments clearly exposed the coach's groin, which was cleanly-shaven save for strip of dark blonde hair.

            "I think it's time you two stop fighting and make up," suggested Sandra, moving up to Piper and dragging her the short distance to the sofa. Sandra then arranged Piper to stand at attention before starting to unbutton her jacket. Soon the jacket was slipped off the tutor's stiff shoulders, followed by the black satin bra she wore underneath. Sandra was that surprised that for a woman Piper's age her breasts had not sagged yet, in fact they looked good, really. For a moment she wondered if the older woman may have gotten them done. Sandra didn't even usually think sexually about females and yet she was amazed nonetheless, unable to help but feel Piper up slightly before moving down, removing her skirt followed by the red lace panties and heels. "You need to take care of that…" remarked Sandra, gesturing at Piper's dark bush that covered her sex as she removed the woman's glasses. Sandra gave the dark-haired woman the same sleepy look she gave Glenda. Piper was then placed on top of Glenda with her hands holding the coach's naked breasts and one bare foot on the ground for balance. Glenda and Piper's lips were locked in a forced-looking kiss.

            Taking a breath and kicking the clothing aside Sandra made her way to Nadine. "It's your turn Doctor Vargas," Sandra explained as she raised Nadine's arms up over her head and then peeled her top off, followed by the blue cotton bra underneath. "This happened to me numerous times and on one such occasion I had to agree to pass some students. This one time won't be too bad, at least I don't think…" Sandra sighed, looking at Nadine's perfect tan breasts with dark nipples, feeling a hint of jealously. The history department head was lowered to ground and Sandra moved south, opening the trousers and working them down to the woman's ankles at which point her boots were removed. Nadine wore black pantyhose underneath that were peeled off next, followed by her blue cotton panties. Sandra then molded the woman's face to have a bright, fake-looking smile and wide eyes. Sandra laughed at the look as she posed Nadine's board-stiff body, making it span straight as an arrow across the two armchairs. "That should do it," Sandra breathed, taking in the scene before picking up the gym bag.

            Sandra unlocked the door and peeked out, making sure the coast was clear. "Well it's been fun," called Sandra over her shoulder. Sandra then realized she really had enjoyed herself, wanting to do the prank again, in particular with a few male colleges as well as some women she'd like to take down a peg. Sandra smiled at the thought as she left the office, leaving the door wide open. "I don't want you ladies to hide this scene."

* * *

 Floor 3 of Decker State College's Fisher Hall, Malibu, California

            Michelle was starting to regret the plan to nab people in their rooms in the late afternoon, given there were still quite a few people wandering the dorm's hall. The only good thing about the Scooby Gang's plan was it still wasn't as busy around as when classes ended for the day, classes first started or when it was time for lunch, so only occasionally did someone walk by. Unfortunately it was difficult for three women to however outside a room while trying to set up a fog machine without looking suspicious so the trio had been forced to wait until no one was in sight.

            Michelle was the one setting up the hose while Pam and Sandy stood guard, Sandy carrying a spray-bottle of Type-7 in case they needed to freeze anyone quickly. Pam was dressed the same as before while Sandy had put on some khaki pants and let her hair down. Michelle herself was curious about a conversation she was able to hear taking place inside the room. "The dye I used on Diane I accidentally ended up getting some on me-self as well, so instead of just streaks I'll a full blonde now," explained a voice with an Irish accent, Michelle figuring it belonged to Mel Donavan.

            "It looks good," complimented another voice, Michelle not sure who it was since it wasn't Julie Vaughn or her sister. "Have you considered keeping it?"

            "Yeah, Mark chatted me up for a change this morning so I think I'll be keeping it," replied Mel, resulting in some chuckles. Michelle finally had the fogger set up and triggered the machine, then stood back up as gas seeped into the room through the hose under the door.

            "Heads up," whispered Sandy. Using her peripheral vision Michelle spotted Danica Riley, a member of the Lady Raptors, heading their way. Danica was a member of the A-squad, being a midfielder that had been on the team since her freshman year, or so Michelle recalled. Danica was a blonde with brown eyes, reddish lips and a skin tone that looked tanned but not overly so. The soccer player was wearing an orange school vest over a white halter-top and jeans that stopped just below her knees; her golden hair was pulled down into twin ponytails.

            "What's going on?" asked Danica, arriving right in front of the trio with no sign that she'd been headed anywhere else. "Kat having a private meeting?"

            "Something like that," shrugged Pam, stepping forward to do the talking while Michelle hung back around the fog machine; Sandy hid the sprayer behind her back.

            "Actually, I can guess you two have something cheerleader related to talk about with her, but what are you doing here?" questioned Danica, singling out Sandy.

            "I'm with the professor over there," fibbed Sandy, gesturing with her free hand. Instinctively following the gesture's direction, Danica turned away from Sandy, Pam surprisingly doing the same. At the moment the pair looked away Sandy struck, spraying them both in the face to freeze them fast. Pamela's thumbs were hooked into her pants pockets as she was looking over her right shoulder, puzzlement on her face. Danica, meanwhile, had her right hand on her hip and was casually gesturing over her left shoulder with her left index finger as her head also turned in the direction, her right eyebrow raised and her lips parted with a sort of bemused look for a living statue.

            "Good thinking, but why'd you spray her?" asked Michelle, indicating Pam.

            "Accident, instinct," explained Sandy, glancing around for a moment before reaching into her purse. "Here, you know what to do." Sandy pulled out a pair of chips, the same ones from before most likely, and handed them to Michelle. The fog machine had now stopped and Michelle was aware she couldn't hear the somewhat-muted voices from inside the gassed dorm room.

            "I'll check inside, you hide them," suggested the blonde, promptly opening the door and heading inside. Double-checking that no one else was around, Michelle placed the chips on the back of Pam and Danica's necks, then used her left arm to maintain contact with both of them while her right reached into her purse and inverted the Durga Hourglass.

            "Now what to do with you two," wondered Michelle out loud, looking at the frozen cheerleader and soccer player. Recalling that Fisher Hall had community bathrooms, Michelle spotted the entrance to one and ordered the pair to follow. With the chips taking over, Pam and Danica obeyed, breaking their interesting poses to slowly trudge behind the Korean-American.

            The community bathroom for women had six stalls and as many shower stalls; there was also a changing area and four sinks. No one was currently in the room, so Michelle had Pam wait and led Danica up to a stall. "Go inside and sit on the toilet," ordered Michelle; the blonde silently obeyed. As a testament to how instinct would work with a chip if the command was ambiguous, Danica took the time to get a seat cover before sitting down, also lowering her pants and underwear to reveal the brown patch around her groin that was under decent enough control.

            "Close your eyes," Michelle then ordered, moving up to Danica as she spoke. After returning to the meeting earlier Sandy had explained to Michelle that if a chip was put on right away after freezing someone with Type-7 there was a window where taking it off wouldn't unfreeze the person, though after a while the chip would do its job and flush out any of the drug it didn't need to function. Luckily for Michelle the window hadn't passed so when the chip was removed from the back of Danica's neck, she remained frozen as she was.

            "Enjoy your nap," mocked Michelle, taking a moment to flick Danica in the nose before leaving the stall. To avoid anyone walking in on her too soon, Michelle locked the stall and left by sliding underneath.

            "You know what Pam, just follow me," she then decided, with the redhead doing as ordered. Michelle had considered leaving Pam in the bathroom as well but had changed her mind, seeing no reason she couldn't just stand over in the corner of Kat's room while it was searched. Returning to the dorm room, Michelle decided to just restart time and wait a moment before going in after Sandy, though she also made sure to pack up the fog machine first.

            "Quite the scene," commented Sandy as Michelle opened the door. Sitting on one bed covered with stuffed animals, her back against the wall, was Mel Donavan, her short hair totally blonde and straight. The Irish soccer player was wearing the green-and-white jersey of the Republic of Ireland's national soccer team; specifically number six. On her legs Mel had white soccer shorts but her feet wore simple running shoes, without socks. Mel was reclined with her hands behind the back of her head, her feet up on the bed with her knees bent and a big, tooth-filled smile held on her face. Standing in between the beds was a brunette with somewhat curly hair: Veronica Parker. The assistant coach was wearing a white lace shawl on top of a tan blouse, a yellow bead necklace between the top and the shawl. A black-belted gray skirt was around Veronica's legs and she was also wearing pantyhose with black leather stiletto heels. Veronica had a smile on her own face, though no teeth where showing, and her arms were crossed. Finally on the other bed was Kat Vaughn, who oddly enough was just wearing a bright orange bathrobe and had her hair up in a towel. Kat, who obviously had just returned from the shower, was sitting with her legs crossed and leaning forward, her mouth open in mid-laugh with her arms resting on top of her legs.

            "Pedicure kit," pointed out Michelle, indicating an item on Kat's dresser. "I guess this was going to turn into one of those kinds of afternoons."

            "Yeah," nodded Sandy, then finally looking behind her. "Pam?"

            "Oh right, Pam, stand in the corner," ordered Michelle, indicating a space near the closet. Pam did as she was told and promptly stood in the corner, even facing it while standing at attention.

            "Pam, freeze," Sandy then ordered before looking at Michelle. "Where's Danica?"

            "I left her in a bathroom stall with it locked," explained Michelle, handing Sandy the chip she'd taken from the soccer player's neck.

            "That works I guess," shrugged Sandy, then scanning the room. "I guess I'll start looking in a dresser, you start with the other one before we do the closet and desk?"

            "Works for me," agreed Michelle, heading to tackle Kat's dresser while Sandy went with Julie's. Michelle was a bit annoyed she wouldn't get a look into Julie's personal items, wanting to have something she could hold over her when she got back from wherever she'd gone, but Kat's things would have to do.

            The search through the dressers was initially a silent one, Michelle not really having anything to say, nor Sandy. It took Michelle moving aside some of Kat's T-shirts to find something odd for her to break her silence. "Huh, this is interesting," remarked Michelle, genuinely surprised by what she found.

            "What's that?" asked Sandy, turning to look at Michelle as she removed the object from the drawer. "Oh wow, an old Polaroid! I didn't know those were even still around!"

            "That's probably why it was hidden," nodded Michelle, then glancing at Kat. "I guess she's got a secret photography hobby or something. Insightful to her as a person, but not what we're looking for." Michelle was going to put the camera back but, looking at the frozen scene around her, couldn't resist taking at least one photo. Focusing the camera on Veronica, Michelle clicked off the flash and a moment later a photo was printed.

            "Oh, can you take one of me?" asked Sandy, turning towards Michelle.

            "Better not, she might notice the missing film," realized Michelle, shaking her head and then nodding at Kat.

            "Darn, you've got a point," sighed Sandy, waving off Michelle as the cheerleader returned the camera to the drawer. Silence followed once again, Michelle searched the rest of the dresser before saying anything. "Look, I... thanks for not bringing up what you overheard earlier," managed Sandy. Turning around Michelle saw Sandy was looking at her with a sad look on her face.

            "It was none of my business," insisted Michelle.

            "Right, because you'd never use personal information to get what you want out of people," nodded Sandy, rolling her eyes as she spoke. "I guess because you busted my little drugging of the tea that time, this morning's talk with mom wasn't necessary?"

            "Wow, you've really got me painted as some kind of diabolical genius haven't you?" spat back Michelle with a frown.

            "If the shoe fits, though I don't know about the genius part," snapped back Sandy, moving closer with her arms crossed. "You know earlier I actually thought you might be human, the way you helped me out. I thought we might even..."

            "What?" demanded Michelle, having crossed her own arms and more or less gotten in Sandy's face.

            "...be friends!" Sandy almost shouted, though still being quite loud. "You're the effective captain of the cheerleader squad and no one on it seems to have anything bad to say about you, not even Pam, but do you actually have real friends?!  It's like your helped create this gang of ours just to have people you can trust!"

            "And what about you?!" fired back Michelle, now actually yelling. "You were the president of a sorority chapter, and now you're a social outcast because your dad couldn't stay in the closet! Even your mom, for all her talk, has distanced herself from you! You're afraid without us you'll be alone!"

            Sandy's face went ashen, and Michelle actually felt a pang of guilt. Michelle's stomach went so far as to churn a bit as she watched Sandy begin to cry, collapsing to the floor and putting her hands over her eyes. "Oh God you're right!" wailed Sandy.

            Feeling a lump in her throat, Michelle dropped down to Sandy's level and put her hands on the blonde's shoulders. "Hey, I... I'm sorry," managed Michelle, unsure of what to say for perhaps the first time in her life. In the past she'd broken several people down but now she was feeling guilt, at least that's what it felt like.

            "Hey..." insisted Michelle, gently squeezing Sandy's shoulders as the sobbing stopped. Michelle then moved to hands to pull Sandy's fingers away from her face, revealing at her mascara didn't run when wet. Sandy looked at Michelle in puzzlement and Michelle realized she wasn't sure what to do next, just that her heart was beating fast. The answer came when Sandy leaned forward, kissing Michelle full on the lips.

            The action took Michelle by surprise but she ended up returning the kiss, opening her lips and interlocking her tongue with Sandy. To cover up her initial surprise, Michelle pushed forward, getting Sandy on her back with her on top. After a few more seconds Michelle broke the kiss and opened her eyes, looking at Sandy. "Wow," managed Michelle, still unsure of exactly how she felt about what had happened.

            "Yeah," breathed Sandy, using her right hand to stroke Michelle's left cheek.

* * *

            Kat Vaughn continued to laugh at Mel's joke, though after a moment she realized something was ‘off’. Mel was still giggling and Veronica held a smirk on her face, but outside her window Kat could see the sun was setting. "Look at the time!" exclaimed Mel just then. Looking up at the clock on her wall, Kat saw that two hours had passed in the blink of an eye.

            "What just..." muttered Kat, then glancing back at Veronica again. The pretty brunette wasn't moving, not even a blink, still having a smile on her lips with her arms crossed.

            "Hey Kat?" asked Mel, picking something up from the floor. "I've got a picture of Veronica here. Is the camera still in its spot?" Frowning, Kat got up and checked her drawer, relieved to find that the Stillsville Camera was where it belonged.

            "Someone must have borrowed it earlier," shrugged Kat, perplexed to what had happened. More strangely, however, was that when Mel tore up the photo Veronica didn't unfreeze.

            "The hell?" asked Mel, looking at the stiffly posed Veronica and poking her on the shoulder, getting no reaction. "What's going on?"

            "I think I know," realized Kat, remembering that Type-7 gas could freeze people without their knowing and that then freezing a person affected with it by magic wouldn't allow the drug to dissipate from their body until the spell was broken. "She’s going to be stuck there for a couple hours longer, at least. Look, you should get going; I'll take care of Veronica."

            "If you say so," shrugged Mel, heading out the door just like that. Kat tried to think about who would use Type-7 on them with no clear reason, wondering if Ayane or Brit had somehow gotten some and, if so, that's why the camera wasn't taken. Another possibility was that Sandy Vanholt was messing with her, like she had with the cheerleaders back in early February. Kat couldn't ponder for much longer however as there was a knock at the door.

            "Kat?" called a voice Kat recognized belonging to Danica Riley. "Hey, what time have you got? I think I'm somehow two hours late and I just woke up in the bathroom..."

 

The End


CAST

Michelle Gim - Park Gyuri
Lexa Balfour
- Leslie Bibb
Chetana Shenkar
- Isha Koppikar
Tori Finlay
- Torrie Wilson
James Hewitt
- Thomas Dekker
Sheila McGowan
- Christine Taylor
Krystal George
- Gabrielle Christian
Sandy Vanholt
- Jessica Simpson
Pamela Flipspatrick
- Rachel Hurd-Wood
Sandra Packlin
- Sarah Palin
Katrina Vanholt
- Kelly Preston
Brianne Walsh
- Miley Cyrus
Maxine Reed
- Emma Roberts
Peggy Sharp
- Jenny McCarthy
Glenda Peyton
- Julie Benz
Piper Cross
- Megan Mullally
Nadine Vargas
- Sofia Vergara
Mel Donavan
- Lena Gercke
Veronica Parker
- Leighton Meester
Danica Riley
- Arielle Kebeel
Kat Vaughn
- Katrina Bowden


Return to the Story Archive