Door Number One
“Fifteen minutes,” Negaduck warned the other four villains that made up the villainous team known as the Fearsome Five as they stood up from the table they were gathered around. The evil duck had ambitious plans for the five of them, a heist the likes of which they had not pulled off in some time, and they had spent the better part of the evening planning it. However, Negaduck’s fuse had been growing proportionally shorter as his hunger pangs grew sharper, so he suggested a break for pizza. After calling it in and picking it up—without paying, naturally—from the delivery guy who had just run away, glad to still have all of his limbs after delivering to Negaduck, the leader of the Fearsome Five had dismissed the others for a brief break to eat. He piled his slices on a paper plate and went out a side door to the warehouse, warning none of them to follow him or else because he needed “a few minutes away from you knobs!”
Bushroot shook his head as Megavolt shoved the pizza box his way after taking his helping. “No, I’m not that hungry,” said Bushroot. Being around Negaduck left him on edge, and since the plant-duck only needed sunlight and fertilizer as far as nutrition went, the notion of eating while he was already keyed up did not appeal at all.
“Suit yourself,” Megavolt said. He shuffled off while Quackerjack, who had taken his pizza before Megavolt, grabbed what would have been Bushroot’s slice and bounded off after the rat. They sat down on a pile of boxes in a far corner of the warehouse, chatting, while Bushroot just wandered around. He noticed that Liquidator had already vanished, although he supposed that should not be all that surprising given that he did not really eat, either. Like him, Liquidator could consume food and drinks if he chose, but any food that he ate just sat suspended inside him until he expelled it, so unless it was something he found particularly tasty, he did not bother. Bushroot chortled as he remembered one time recently when Liquidator had drank a bright red drink from a bar on a dare—one Quackerjack had thought up, naturally—and how his mouth had turned bright red as he swallowed it. His head had turned a lighter red next as the drink disbursed through his system, and as it reached his gut, the color had diluted further, spreading throughout his watery form and turning him pink for an hour afterward. The memory left a grin on Bushroot’s face, along with a touch of warmth in his cheeks as the sap rose to them as he thought about how the embarrassed Liquidator had looked rather cute that color—a shade Bushroot favored in his petunias.
Bushroot then cast a furtive glance over at Megavolt and Quackerjack, hoping they had not noticed his dopey grin, lest they inquire as to the reason behind it. Although it was no secret to him, Liquidator, and probably not to Negaduck, either, that something similar was going on between Quackerjack and Megavolt, Bushroot still felt self-conscious about the others being aware of his own relationship with Liquidator. He certainly did not want to endure Quackerjack making stupid jokes about something so personal, or worse, Negaduck using his feelings for the water dog as a basis for mockery. Bushroot got enough of that already without offering up material from his private life as fodder.
“Reggie…”
Bushroot frowned when he heard someone say his name in a low tone.
“Reginald Bushroot,” it repeated, a little louder, “come on down!”
Recognizing the glib salesman voice instantly, Bushroot pursed his beak in a humoring smile and headed in the direction in which he was called. He turned a corner and saw two closed doors, side by side.
“Open the door and collect your prize,” Liquidator urged in a playful tone from behind one of them. “Will it be Door Number One or Door Number Two?”
“What are you up to?” Bushroot asked, keeping his voice low enough to not carry across to the warehouse to any of the others.
Liquidator did not give any helpful answers, only a teasing reply, one that Bushroot could almost see him saying with an infuriatingly smug grin on his face as he did so. “Time is limited to less than fifteen minutes and counting! Act fast, before the offer expires!”
“Okay, fine.” Bushroot reached for the door on his right, taking a deep breath of anticipation as he pulled it open. To his disappointment, all he saw was the interior of a stuffy broom closet. Most of it was lined with shelves containing janitorial and bathroom supplies on them, and in front of them were a broom, mop, and a dry bucket. There was barely room enough for anyone to stand in there with the door closed, and Bushroot saw no sign of moisture anywhere that would give away Liquidator’s presence.
There was a dramatic sigh from behind the adjoining door. “Oh, dear! It seems that Door Number Two is a bust, full of nothing but mops, buckets, and dust, dust, dust! But, wait! If our contestant acts now, he can still open Door Number One and claim a consolation prize.”
Shaking his head bemusedly, Bushroot shut the closet door and opened the one beside it. It was a bathroom, a single one with a toilet, sink, and a utility shower stall inside. Bushroot wondered why there was a shower in the warehouse, but he supposed that some things that were shipped and stored in places like that could be dirty or dangerous if they broke or spilled, and it was probably a safety precaution. He had a utility shower built into his greenhouse’s bathroom for the same reason long before it ever became his permanent home. “Buddy?” he called out as he stepped inside. “What’s going on?”
A rush of water flowed up from the shower’s drain, nearly knocking Bushroot over as it rushed past him, and shut and locked the door. “Feeling a bit stressed and peckish? Standard non-mutant pizza fare not satisfying your appetite? Then enjoy a quick and easy Liquidator brand drink, courtesy of your sponsor!” Liquidator then scooped Bushroot into his arms and swished forth, pressing him against the wall of the shower.
“What are you doing?” Bushroot asked, even as Liquidator began to suggestively slide his wet hands across Bushroot’s torso and the small of his back, just above his feather-like tail-leaves, while nuzzling against his beak.
Liquidator’s darker fluid eyes sparkled mischievously in the bathroom’s harsh fluorescent lighting. “Consolation prize,” he answered, as if it should have been obvious.
“This?” Bushroot was incredulous even as he circled his arms around Liquidator’s solid watery form, yielding to his affectionate, if not aggressive, advances. “Your idea of a prize is to grab me and… and water me…” His words caught in his beak briefly as Liquidator’s mouth closed over the end of it for a moment in a smooch, “…water me like this?” Bushroot finished on an embarrassed note, wiggling a bit against the wall of water that was his liquid lover.
“It’s your lucky night,” Liquidator informed him with a grin. He glided his hand through the fine petal-like strands of Bushroot’s hair, catching the stamens between his fingers in a light and erotic touch. “As such, your consolation prize is the chance to get lucky for the ten or so minutes we have left.”
Leaning his head back into Liquidator’s touch, Bushroot glanced at him through half-lidded eyes, and started drawing in water from Liquidator’s body wherever his plant-like skin touched him. “So what would I have gotten if I picked this door first? What was first prize?”
Liquidator let out a bubbly laugh. “At least a minute more to enjoy this.”
“Negaduck’ll kill us if we’re not back in his fifteen minutes. He’s probably got a stop-watch.” Bushroot’s voice was halting and distracted as Liquidator’s touch, and the feel of his water as he took it in, stirred him to higher levels of desire.
“That’s why it’s only the consolation prize,” lamented Liquidator. “If you weren’t such an indecisive contestant, we could’ve taken a little more time.”
Bushroot groaned as Liquidator’s shape shifted, and he flowed more substantially into his arms so that they lengthened and curled around Bushroot’s slender plant-duck body, immersing him more fully in a wet and intimate embrace. “I mean,” Bushroot murmured after Liquidator kissed him again, that time a little more deeply and sensuously, “I never watched the clock, but I’m pretty sure it takes more than ten minutes… or eight or nine or whatever we have left.”
Drawing his head back, Liquidator eyed Bushroot with lewd arrogance. “Of course it does. Liquidator brand love is best served as a deluxe package with complementary foreplay and time-released gratification to last as long as you can handle. However, I am versatile, and like Hamburger Hippo, can in a pinch be counted on to satisfy your most urgent cravings in five minutes or less.”
After letting out a guilty little giggle despite himself, Bushroot looked at Liquidator with wide and excited eyes. “Really?” Although a part of him was still terrified that Negaduck would come looking for them—and find them like that!—he could not help but find the naughty notion arousing.
“Close your eyes and put me to the test.”
As Bushroot closed his eyes, he felt himself lifted higher into Liquidator’s warm and bubbling current, which already rushed across and against his skin like the pleasing jets of a hot tub, a hot tub that could satisfy both a craving for water and a craving for something less tangible, but no less powerful than that. What he did not expect was to then be spun around in a dizzying manner and washed up roughly against the shower stall wall so hard that he was splayed out and had to crane his neck to avoid having his beak bent under the force of it. Water then covered him almost completely, surging against him in a torrent of passion that left Bushroot gasping for breath more from feeling than from being almost submerged. Liquidator kept him pinned as he flooded his way into him from what felt like all angles, and the more Bushroot tried to move against it, the harder and faster Liquidator responded.
Bushroot’s leaf-like fingers curled in vain against the smooth steel of the shower stall as he gasped for breath in the heat of the moment. He simultaneously wanted nothing more than the sweet release that Liquidator’s wet and wild passion promised, but also for it to not be over, and to not have to go back to Negaduck and the others when he wanted nothing more than to be there, alone with Liquidator, in their own little world.
Just as promised, Bushroot came hard and fast in Liquidator’s hot rush of liquid sex, and he groaned out his pleasure in what Liquidator apparently found a rather satisfying manner if the smug grunt he let out was any indication. Bushroot was still catching his breath as the water dog reached his climax, and he rolled over slowly against the wall as Liquidator’s water calmed enough to allow it. Bushroot found himself beak to nose with his watery lover, who grinned back at him.
“Tell me you wouldn’t have enjoyed another minute of that as first prize.”
Frowning, mostly because it was over and what Liquidator said was true, Bushroot replied, “Then next time, don’t be so vague.”
Liquidator only chortled and drew back, allowing Bushroot to stand on his own again and shake off what he could of the water that soaked him from head to root. As he glanced around the bathroom, Bushroot did not see any towels aside from paper towels in a dispenser by the sink, which, considering how wet he was, would have been like using a sponge to clean up a spilled bucket-full of water.
“No time to dry; it’s time to fly! If the boss isn’t happy, no one’s happy,” Liquidator warned as he unlocked the door.
Bushroot noticed the sly smile on Liquidator’s face as he said it, and followed him out. “You probably want them to ask me why I’m soaking wet, just to see what I say. You’d enjoy that,” he said in a low voice, his blue eyes flashing with indignant accusation.
“No more than you enjoyed it when my red rum runner made me look like I’d been pounding pink squirrels all night,” countered Liquidator. “Besides,” he added with a smirk, “would you have really given up an extra minute or two just to ineffectively paper towel yourself drier?”
“Shh. They’re going to hear you,” Bushroot said instead of answering as they approached the table where Negaduck, Megavolt, and Quackerjack were all already sitting and waiting for them.
Glowering at them, Negaduck said in an icy tone, “You’re two minutes late.”
Liquidator glanced at his empty arm where he might have worn a watch had he had a flesh and blood body. “My apologies. I should’ve stolen a Rolex,” he said apologetically as he took a seat.
“Where did you guys go, anyway?” Megavolt asked, noting Bushroot’s soggy state and giving him a curious look.
Meanwhile, Quackerjack grinned as if he already knew the answer. “Yeah, and how’d you get so,” he paused, raising his eyebrows with a knowing look, “wet?”
“He was with Liquidator, you knob. Shouldn’t it be obvious?” Negaduck snapped, first giving Quackerjack a disgusted look, and then giving it to both Bushroot and Liquidator.
Bushroot felt his face flush hot with sap, and he was glad that it was nearly colorless and could not redden his cheeks, otherwise he was certain that they would be some deep shade of forest green from it. “Oh no, it’s nothing like that,” he said quickly. “There’s a shower back there and I got kind of dirty and…”
Megavolt raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “How dirty did you get?”
“And how did you get dirty?” Quackerjack asked with seeming innocence, although both Bushroot and Liquidator knew better.
“He just wanted a drink,” Liquidator said smoothly. “You know how it is in seedy places like this. You need something, so you go looking behind closed doors, and sometimes you find a little more than you bargained for.” The water dog folded his fingers together confidently. “Be glad he took the shower… a few minutes before he came out of it, he was very dirty.”
Bushroot’s beak fell open slightly, undecided as to whether he should thank Liquidator or swat him, but wanting to do both. However, Negaduck cut him off before he could say anything else. “Whatever. Just don’t make a habit of wandering off and wasting my time, or else. Got that, Fertilizer Face?”
Bushroot nodded meekly and sat down.
“Good.” Negaduck then gave Liquidator a pointed look. “And next time, Drip-Brain,” he sneered with a snide gleam in his eyes that let on exactly how much he knew, “power-wash your plants on your own time.”
The End
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