“Boss, I’m right outside the house now,” a man in a dark
cloak whispered softly into a cell phone, his body pressed
up against a brick wall, “Yes, they’re all in there,” he
paused, “I got their whole plan on tape,” he patted a tape
recorder hanging at his side, “What should I do now?”

The voice on the other end of the phoneline spoke, “You
have to inject one of them with the serum I gave you
earlier,” the voice proceeded, “Do you know which one
Greg Proops is?”

The cloaked man thought, “Isn’t he the nerdy one with
the glasses?” he answered.

“That’s right,” the voice laughed, “Jab him with the
airgun when he leaves the house. Make sure you get
every last drop of the solution into him. Do it fast, and
he won’t feel anything. Remember,” the voice
instructed, “He’s never seen you, so he won’t know you.”

“Got it, boss.”

“And you and Archie know what to do next, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but are you *sure* the tall guy won’t be going
home tonight?” the dark figure seemed to have doubts.

“Of course he won’t,” the voice said strongly, “And don’t
forget the other hostage either.”

“We won’t,” the cloaked man peered into the windows of
the house, “It’ll be easy, if the serum works fast enough.”

“Indeed,” the voice agreed, “Once Greg falls for Tony, it
won’t be long before Brad, hurt and vulnerable, storms
off into the night...”




“Wow,” Brad looked down at his watch, “It’s getting
really late.”

“So it is,” Colin said, looking at Ryan.

“Sorry to bail, but I wanna get home and get some sleep
before tomorrow.” Brad raised to leave, and looked
back at Greg. Greg also rose, and joined Brad at the
front closet.

Once they were out of earshot of the others, who were
still sitting in Colin’s living room, they talked.

“Are you coming home with me tonight?” Greg
questioned, stroking Brad’s face.

“Ah, no, sorry Greg, but I *really* am tired,” he looked
playfully at Greg, “But I think we should really try to pick
things up where we left off in your office... maybe
tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Greg grinned, just as Tony came up behind them.

“Seems Ryan is staying here longer,” Tony insinuated as
he opened the closet, “Suspicious?”

Greg chuckled a little, “Even if he won’t admit it, there
*must* be something going on between those two.”

Tony nodded. “It’s weird though,” he said, changing the
subject, “I don’t feel tired at all right now.”

“Me either,” Greg added. “This mission is going to keep
me up all night, just going through the plan in my head.”

Once the three men finished putting their coats on, they
said their goodnights to Colin and Ryan, and walked out
the front door of the house. They turned down the
street, stopping at the corner, a prime place to hail a
cab. Brad got the first one, and rode alone, as his flat
was nowhere near either Greg or Tony’s.

As they waited in silence for another taxi to come along,
not wanting to ride the tube this late at night, someone
brushed up against Greg as he passed.

“Excuse me, terribly sorry,” the stranger said, going on
his way. Greg thought nothing of the ordeal, instead
thinking again of the mission, then an idea hit him.

“Tony, why don’t you come over, and we’ll hammer out
this plan a bit more,” Greg suggested.

“That’s not a bad thought,” Tony said, agreeing.

“OK then,” Greg raised his arm as he saw approaching
headlights. The cab stopped inches from the curb, and
a gust of hot wind and exhaust fumes met them both.
Tony opened the car door, allowing Greg to enter first.

Greg gave the cabby directions to his flat, which took
longer than expected, due to the man’s thick Welsh
accent.

Finally, an hour and a pack of cigarettes later, they
arrived at Greg’s flat. They paid the driver, opting to give
him a minimal tip, and Greg led the way to his upstairs
abode.

“This is nice,” Tony remarked as they got inside, and
Greg closed the door behind them.

“Yeah, it took a while to furnish, but now that it’s done,”
Greg threw his arms up into the air, “Voila!”

Tony made his way to the living room, inspecting the little
knick knacks that were placed on shelves and end
tables.

“Make yourself at home,” Greg insisted, “Would you like
some tea?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” Tony looked up and smiled.

“It’s no problem,” Greg returned the grin, adjusting his
spectacles. He waltzed across the living room, and
pushed through the swing door that led to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he found a kettle, filled it with water from
the tap, and set it on the stove to boil. As he was
searching for the tea, he started to think. For some
reason, he didn’t regret that Brad hadn’t wanted to be
with him tonight. Maybe it was simply the fact that they
hadn’t had enough time to really bond as a couple,
although, Greg lamented, if making out on top of a desk
wasn’t bonding, what was?

“How’s it coming along in there?” Tony called.

“Pretty good,” Greg answered.

“That’s good,” Tony’s voice trailed off.

His accent is so sexy, Greg found himself thinking as he
slipped tea leaves into the pot, and was shocked. He
might not have been with Brad that long, and he sure as
hell didn’t want think of himself as some sort of
promiscuous playboy. At any rate, alluring thoughts kept
coming to him. The kettle whistled, snapping him out of
his muse. ‘How long was I like that?’, he wondered, as
he poured two cups of the green liquid, and moved from
the kitchen back to the living room.

“Here you are,” Greg presented Tony with his drink, as
he found a seat next to the other man on the couch.

“Thanks,” Tony replied, taking a sip.

“It might be hot,” Greg cautioned, remembering his bout
with the coffee earlier this morning.

Tony smiled, “It’s fine,” he said as he placed a hand on
Greg’s knee. As he did so, Greg coughed, sputtering tea
across the room, and nearly tipping over his whole cup.

“Wh, why are you doing that?” Greg asked, visibly
agitated.

Tony removed his hand, instead putting it on Greg’s
shoulder. “Are you all right?” Tony inquired, setting his
cup of tea on an end table.

“I’m fine,” Greg sighed, feeling there was no other way to
get past his perturbation than to be blunt, “Are you
coming on to me?”

Tony took one look at Greg, and cracked up. “Coming on
to you?” he asked, still giggling. Suddenly though, his
look turned serious, “Well... yes, if you have to know.” He
rubbed Greg’s shoulder. “I really like you, Greg.”

“Ugh,” Greg grunted, “That’s exactly what *he* said,” he
pushed Tony’s hand from his shoulder, although he
himself didn’t *really* want to fight off Tony’s advances.

“What *who* said? Is there someone else?” Tony
asked, still serious, sliding in closer to Greg, so that their
sides were pressed up against each other.

“Well, ah,” he looked at Tony, those deep brown eyes, his
silky dark hair, “It doesn’t matter now...” he continued
staring at the other man, until Tony made the first move.

“Mmm, no it doesn’t,” Tony agreed, as he thrust his lips
against the delicate flesh of the other man’s throat. He
kissed deeply, as Greg moaned fervently. Tony made his
way through small, tender kisses all the way up to Greg’s
own lips, onto which he placed a finger. He traced the
outline of Greg’s pale lips, smooth and warm, until he
pressed his mouth against them, sucking lightly on the
bottom lip.

Greg brought his tongue into Tony’s mouth, flicking it,
rolling it, tasting the other man. He flung his arms
around Tony, who returned the gesture and they were
locked in a tight hug, hands running rampant all over
one another’s bodies.

They began to undress each other, moving swiftly,
urgently, willing the passion to escalate. Adrenaline
coursed through Greg’s veins, and he thought naught of
Brad, his mind focused on only one thing: Tony.

The dark haired man virtually tore through Greg’s light
shirt, in an effort to uncover his heaving chest. Their
breathing was almost in sync, both on the verge of
panting for the excitement. Tony ran his hands across
Greg’s pale, bare chest, feeling the warmth, and
arousing the other man further. Tony slipped his own
shirt off, and once more the two men engaged in a fond
embrace, lips meeting again.

Greg broke the kiss, and began to suckle Tony’s earlobe,
eliciting a small cry of pleasure from the man.

Tony reached for the zipper of Greg’s dress pants, intent
on getting rid of the burdening slacks. As he did so,
Greg stopped his hand, pressing it against the erection
he had achieved. Tony sighed deeply, and began to
slowly knead the other’s engorged member. Greg
moaned, and leaned back into the couch, Tony taking
this opportunity to remove the other’s pants fully. He
was left with a man clothed only in boxer shorts, and for
this he was in a state of bliss. As he lowered his head to
take Greg into his mouth, he noticed something odd.

Greg felt his hot breath on his thigh, and it’s warmth
carried through his boxers. He waited for Tony to begin
with the oral escapades, and when he didn’t he opened
his eyes and looked down at the other man. His head
was nearly in Greg’s lap, although it seemed he was
taking a close look at something on Greg’s upper leg.

“What’s wrong?” Greg asked, wanting so for his
hardness to enter the man’s mouth.

“I don’t know,” Tony replied, in a monotone, un-aroused
voice. “There’s a mark on your leg that’s bothering me,”
he said finally.

“What do you mean?” Greg leaned over, attempting to
inspect his own leg.

“See it there?” Tony pointed to a red dot on his thigh,
“It’s a mark, did something cut you?”

For a moment, Greg sat in silent confusion. He couldn’t
remember any sort of injury, and yet when Tony placed a
finger on the spot, it stung quite a bit. He traced back
through the day, trying to think of how he could have
possibly acquired this wound. Suddenly, it hit him.

“That man,” Greg said, almost to himself, “When he
bumped into me when we left Colin’s, I assumed he was
carrying an umbrella or something,” he rubbed the red
spot, “I felt a prick or jab and thought nothing of it.”

“An injection...” Tony said thoughtfully.

Greg thought for a moment more, and then things
began to unravel.

“An injection,” he repeated Tony’s words as he searched
for his pants, “That man could have been poised with
some sort of syringe,” he rubbed his chin. “But why?”

“It could an operative of the Whoser Losers,” Tony
offered.

“Hmm,” Greg continued to ponder theories, “A mind
altering drug perhaps...”

“Huh?” Tony shook his head.

“I never would have cheated on Brad in my right mind,”
Greg affirmed, brightening up.

“So there *is* someone else,” Tony said quietly, pouting.
“Wait,” he looked worried, “Do you hear that noise?” he
motioned for Greg to be silent, and they heard what
sounded like the squeaking of metal.

The door. Greg cursed that he hadn’t locked it, and felt
foolish that once more someone was walking in on him
in a compromising position. The knob turned fully, and
although they weren’t in view of the door, they heard the
sounds of footsteps entering the flat.

“Greg?” the voice that belonged to the footsteps called
tentatively. The steps quickened, soft thuds on the
carpeting moving closer as each millisecond drew on.
Tony and Greg attempted to dress in a hurry, throwing
their clothes on maniacally. It was too late, the
footsteps stopped as they reached the living room, and
the figure was now visible. It was Brad of course, they
had recognized his voice as he first entered, and now
seeing him before them, it was driven into further reality.

Brad stood and stared, taking in the scene: His lover,
and another friend, rushing to get dressed and looking
quite guilty. Emotions stormed through Brad, rage filled
his body, then hurt, then betrayal.

“Greg,” he managed to utter, somewhere between a
furious cry and a whimper, and he ran out of the flat,
knocking over a small bureau that had been displaying
expensive china as he made his way out of the room.

“Brad!” Greg called after the man, buttoning his pants
and grabbing his shirt he fled into the short corridor, in
hot pursuit.

Tony slowly rose, and followed Greg into the hall, almost
fully dressed. Brad was long gone, and Greg held his
head low, defeated. Tony placed his arm around the
other man, and Greg turned to him, collapsing with a
faint cry into his chest. They stood in the hall, Tony
comforting Greg, for about half an hour. They made
their way back into Greg’s flat, tired and worn, and
somewhat uncomfortable.

They talked long into the night, sorting out what had
happened, Greg explaining his relationship with Brad,
and telling Tony that although he didn’t want to hurt him,
it had been the injection that had made him so amorous
toward him. Tony reluctantly offered understanding, and
Greg thanked him greatly. It was about three in the
morning when the phone rang.

Greg answered it, bemused that someone would be
calling this late. “Hello?” he questioned the receiver, half
hoping it was Brad so that they could reconcile.

“It’s Ryan,” the caller identified himself, “I just got back to
my house,” he sounded panicky.

“What’s the matter?” Greg pressed.

“I’ve been broken into,” Ryan said, “They, they,” his voice
broke.

“What?” Greg inquired.

“They took them hostage!” Ryan cried.

“Who took who hostage?” Greg asked, becoming
agitated.

“The Whoser Losers, probably,” Ryan whimpered, “They
stole every last pair of shoes I own!” he screeched,
obviously in pain over the loss.

Greg was shocked, for the thief to exclusively steal
shoes, well he’d have to know Ryan’s weakness. And the
Whoser Losers did make sense in that respect.

“And that’s what they took *hostage*, as you said?”
Greg questioned.

“Not quite, there’s a note,” Ryan could be heard shuffling
a paper, “They said they’re coming to get Brad as well.”

“Brad!” Greg exclaimed.

“You mean he isn’t with you?” Ryan asked, seriously.

“No, he ran out on me, er, stormed out of my flat about
two hours ago,” Greg said, attempting to cover up his
relationship.

“You don’t have to hide the fact that you’re a couple,”
Ryan said, “Anyway, Jan told me what she caught you
two doing in your office.”

“That’s beside the point,” Greg stammered, almost
relieved that he and Brad’s “thing” was out in the open,
but he brought back the issue of abduction. “The
Whoser Losers probably have him now, and we have to
save him.”

“And my shoes!” Ryan agreed. So they planned to get
back to the SOI complex right then, before morning set
in. Greg related everything to Tony, and they readied to
leave the flat.

On to Phase V