UB3: Greek Irony

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Universe Backstabber 3: Greek Irony

By Harley Quinn hyenaholic

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Me: I know what people are saying. They're saying, "It's Chapter 4 in a Universe Backstabber fanfic and there's still no sex! Nobody's been raped yet! Nor has anybody been called gay! Somebody's abducted Harley and is writing in her name!"

Espio: Actually, I was going to ask you where the bathroom is...

Me: Down the hall and on the left. Anyway, for the rest of you, let's get on with the show! Still minimal sex, but foreplay is what makes sex so good, isn't it?

Vector: Actually, what makes sex really good is smearing your body in chocolate and paying a prostitute 300 Rings to lick it off.

Me: Er... yes. Anyway, the song "Why Don't You Do Right?" isn't mine. Can't remember who wrote it, but it's in "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" and is sung by Jessica Rabbit.

~~~

Chapter 4: Why Don't You Do Right?

It's afternoon. Vector's drinking strong coffee and phoning all his dodgy friends, trying to get a fix on Nack, and Charmee's out at the arcade - that kid never did grow up.

I'm going over the statements again. Something isn't right with them, but I can't get a fix on what it is.

Suddenly, a little Omochao flies through the window, its clockwork clicking. It settles on the desk and clicks a few times, then starts talking, "This is Kuri-Mu! Well done, Team Chaotix! You are on the right path! Nack's favorite bar is Club Rouge, the regular haunt of many young men! He goes there once a week on a Friday! Today is a Friday!"

"How the hell do you know-"

"This message will self-destruct in 10..."

Vector grabs a huge mug with 'I'm the boss' on it, and presses it over the Omochao. There is a quiet implosion, and the mug shatters.

"Damn! That was my favorite!" snarls Vector.

"How the hell do they know we needed to know where Nack is?" I ask, "How the hell do they know where his haunts are?!" I think about it, "As a group we'll definitely be noticed. Charmee's too loud, and he still gets asked for ID when we go into clubs. And you're more like the bouncer than a customer. Who's gotta go?"

I realise with horror that I've just talked myself into a corner, "Damn! I've gotta go!"

~~~

I enter the bar. It's a few moments before I breathe again. It's a hideous strip bar. There's some attempt to make the place look classy, but the scantily clad vixen that guides me to a table strongly detracts from that image. She sits on my lap, grinding her hips into my crotch, "Hi there," she says seductively, "I'm Vicky, and I'll be your minder for this evening... What's your name?"

"Uh... Stealth," I stammer, barely able to remember the fake name I decided on.

"Well, Stealth," she says, pressing against me so hard that I moan, "Would you like to buy us a drink?"

"Uh... yeah... red wine? You got that?"

"We've got everything you'll ever need," she smirks. She tugs gently on the tie Vector forced me into wearing and wanders off to get my drink.

I frown and start looking around. There's about twenty young women shamelessly flaunting their bodies. It's enough to make a decent guy vomit, the way they're being measured up and valued and groped by the men all around me. I try to spot Nack admist the mass of seething bare flesh. Finally I get a fix on him, laughing at some girl dancing on a table for him.

"What's the matter, baby?" I jump. Vicky has put my drink on the table and is smirking at me, "You seem... agitated."

"Well... it's my first time," I say.

"Well, you've sure picked a good night to be here for your first time... Miss Bat dances every Friday... but I dance here every day."

She's practically forcing her cleavage into my face. It's not easy to concentrate on anything else. I push a twenty ring bill down her chest, "Gimmie a dance then, while I'm waiting," I say, knowing I'll never get rid of her otherwise.

She grins and slides off me, grinding a lot of furry flesh against me. Dancing slowly, draping herself around me, it's difficult to keep the disgust from my face. Suddenly, the music stops. Everything's so quiet, everybody stops talking.

Vicky strokes my chest, "You're lucky," she says smoothly, "Miss Bat is gonna dance now."

The curtains on the stage part, a bat sitting on a stool, her wings draped around her. I thought the clothing of the waitressess was skimpy. What she's wearing would struggle to cover a teacup. She turns, smirking, to face the crowd, batting her eyelashes. I nearly drop my drink. It's Rouge. She stands slowly, and begins to walk across the stage.

It's difficult to stop staring at the strutting bat beauty on the stage. But that's her job; to make me stare. She starts to sing, a low key, especially designed to make me forget everything but her. Somehow, I manage to close my mouth.

"You had plenty money back in '92,
You let other women make a fool of you,
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here, get me some money too..."

She lays down on the table opposite me, showing as much flesh as she can got to the crowd, and since she's wearing a split-seam dress that's probably held together with velcro, gazing upside down at Nack, who's grinning like a maniac, it's not difficult.

"You're sittin' down and wonderin' what it's all about,
You ain't got no money, they will put you out,
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here, get me some money too..."

Rouge plays with my quarry, leaning in as if for a kiss, then covering his face with his stetson hat, moves on to the next customer. It takes me a few seconds to realise that it's Knuckles. It's fucking Knuckles. He's wearing his old hat with stars to try and disguise himself, but it's him all right, and Rouge has angled herself so that he is looking straight down her more than ample cleavage.

"If you had prepared eighteen years ago,
You wouldn't be a-wanderin' from door to door,
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here, get me some money too..."

She prods Knuckles' nose with a fingertip. He blushes something chronic and shoves a ten ring bill down her cleavage, and she pushes him away with one boot pressed into his crotch. She moves onto her next customer. It's me. Everyone in the bar is staring at me - no, they're staring at Rouge, not me, and I can't stop staring at Rouge, who slides her stillettoed foot inside my thigh and into my crotch. Tilting my chin to look into her face and loosening my tie, she smirks in that special way she has.

"I fell for your jivin' and I took you in,
Now all you got to offer me's a drink of gin,
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here, get me some money too...
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Like some other men... do..."

She pulls back, dragging my tie with her, strutting away. I feel like I just melted into a mushy pile.

Nack stays for another couple of dancers, a rabbit and a squirrel, both of whom seem to recognise him as a regular, then pays for his drink - he's gotten a lot of money recently - and leaves. I stand up, pushing Vicky away.

It's not easy to get out of there. At least three scantily clad young ladies get in my way, offering their bodies to me for a price, and I'm reduced to pushing my way out.

I follow Nack home, in stealth mode.

The area he lives in is pretty awful, even for criminals. It's a dark, backward ghetto that stinks of rubbish and hobos. Even I'm nervous walking in it, and I'm in camoflage. Nack pushes his key into the door, and goes in. I follow him quickly into his apartment, looking around at the spreading damp, the smell of asbestos, and the dirty carpet. Nic's sitting in a chair holding the baby and reading to him.

I slam the door closed and reappear, "Hey Nack," I grin.

He whips around and looks at me, his fur turning a pale purple, "Espio? Listen, that letterbomb you guys got sent last month, I swear it wasn't me what did that. Nic was giving birth at the time, I was there! You can ask the hospital staff, I-"

"No, this isn't about that-" I stop and think, "Though I'll be back to talk about it later... this is a social call about your little boy."

Nack breathes in, as if this is worse, "Patrick?" he says, and suddenly moves between me and Nic, "What about him?"

"I think I know who his father is," I answer.

Nack goes even paler, "That's impossible. Nobody knows," he says, in a tone which suggests, 'Except us'.

"Surely you can narrow it down to a couple of dozen people," I say in a joking tone.

There's a blur of movement, and I'm lying on my back with a split lip, and Nack is standing over me, growling, "Keep your insulting remarks for yourself, Espio," he snarls, "What exactly is this about? It's no social call, that's for certain."

It occours to me that persuing the subject of Patrick's father isn't a good idea, "It's about Tails. You were at his funeral, weren't you? Nic too, if I recall."

Nack seems to relax slightly, "Is this about the way he went missing for about a month before Cream got kidnapped and Sonic reported his death?" he asks, "Cus if you're accusing me of something-"

"No, no... just the two tails on your baby... made me think. Team Chaotix is investigating Tails' disappearance. And alledged death." I wait for his response on 'alledged'. I have to wait some time. Nack's a one-track thinker.

"Miles..." he says slowly, as if he's not sure if what he's telling me is a good idea, "Is not Patrick's father."

"Right," I say.

"Miles wasn't going around trying to be a hero in some far-off city while he was away," says Nack, "He was... staying with me."

"Why did he leave if he didn't want to be a hero?" I ask.

"Don't know, he didn't want to talk about it."

"What was he doing, staying with you?" I ask.

"What I do," Nack answers, "Anyway, the shit really hit the fan when... well, you know about anonymous clients don't you? We got one... there was some ruckus... we killed someone..."

"We?" I narrow my eyes, "Tails helped you kill someone?" I stop, "You're lying. You're deliberately lying to put me off and annoy me at the same time."

"Fine. I'm lying. That makes everything else I'm going to say a whole lot easier," Nack seems a lot more comfortable now, "Anyway, we got kidnapped by this guy-"

"Robotnik."

"Er, yes."

"Nack!" Nic tries to stop him, but he ignores her.

"It was horrible in there, I swear. I didn't actually get worse than roughed up, and Nic broke me out - eight and a half months pregnant, she was!" He looks at her appraisingly.

"And Tails was still in there?"

"Oh, yes. Nic couldn't find him cus he was in a different cell."

An idea springs to mind, "And then you went and told Sonic that Tails was in Robotnik's clutches."

Nack looks terribly relieved, as if he's been given a straw to clutch at, "Er... yes! Yes, that's exactly what I did. Cus Miles is my buddy and I wouldn't leave him in the clutches of Robotnik, but I didn't fancy going back in there. What with Nic being eight and a half months pregnant and all. Er... that was what Sonic told you, wasn't it?"

I decide not to answer that one, "Thanks Nack, you've been most helpful."

"I have?" Nack looks worried. He doesn't like helping the authorities.

"Yes. Love your house. See you around Nack."

"Heh... yes."

"Might bring Vector and Charmee with me next time, hmmm? I'm sure they'd love to see little Patrick. Don't worry about me, I can make my own way out."

Even as the door closes behind me, I can hear voices raised in arguing, and a child crying. But now I know one thing for sure - somebody is lying to me about something.

~~~
End of Chapter Four

Me: Yayness! Let the mystery continue!

Espio: How do you write your fanfics anyway? Do you just sit there and wait for ideas to flow?

Me: Pretty much, yes. That's why I can never be sure who will be alive by the end of a story.

Espio: Hey, professional writers say you ought to plan.

Me: Well they can bloody well get stuffed. Sometimes I don't even write the chapters in the right order. It does mean I end up reading my work over a lot, but I get ideas down when they're freshest that way.