TITLE: Marshmallows and Duct Tape
AUTHOR: Katrina McDonnell
EMAIL: mcdonnem@tpg.com.au
SPOILERS: None
RATING: PG-13 (sexual innuendo, stomach churning situation)
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters and places are
the property of MTM and NBC Television. This piece of fan fiction
was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes, and no
infringement on copyrights or trademarks was intended. Previously
unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted
to the author.
ORIGINALLY POSTED: 4 March, 1999
ARCHIVE: Sure, but please ask first.
FEEDBACK: All feedback is appreciated...all flames will be dealt with
by Miss Parker...
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was written for the "Paint By Items" challenge
on the PreR list. This involved writing a one part story including 5 items:
pink boxers, duct tape, hot chocolate (marshmallows optional), SL-27, and
Clairol Herbal Essences shampoo.
I will state before you read this that I take no responsibility for any
adverse reactions to this story. You read at your own risk and I am not
paying for anyone's counselling. You have been forewarned.
The idea for this story got stuck in my head and though I kept telling myself
it was too disgusting to even consider, it just wouldn't leave. So I had to
exorcise it by writing it down. And since I had been haunted by it, I thought
why should I be the only one! So hence it is being inflicted on you :)
SUMMARY: I ain't attempting this one! Read for yourself...



"But Miss Parker...," Broots longingly stared at the marshmallows
floating in the mug of hot chocolate he held in his hand.

"Now Broots. SL-27 is clear at the moment. I want to see if I can find
anything more on my mother."

"But why do I have to go?"

He met Miss Parker's glare and immediately decided that it would
have been a better idea to have stuck his lips together with the roll of duct
tape he kept on his desk.

"You are going because I'm telling you."

Broots felt it best to just nod. He set his mug down on the desk and bid
it a fond farewell. Rising to his feet, he grabbed the duct tape and
turned to find Miss Parker with a raised eyebrow.

"And we need duct tape for?"

"You never know," Broots decided not to try the Star Wars force/duct
tape joke. He was hoping to go home to Debbie tonight.

Miss Parker exited the room and he followed, admiring the long legs
and superb figure in front of him. He surprised himself when several
explicit images involving Miss Parker and duct tape crept unbidden
into his mind. *Don't go there*, he ordered himself, *it's too dangerous*.
A knowing smile moved into position on his face, vanishing suddenly
as he nearly ran into the object of his fantasy. He noticed they were
standing outside one of the entrances to SL-27. And Miss Parker had
fixed one of her trademark looks on him, the one that could castrate a
bull at ten paces.

"Something amuses you?"

That low, husky, threatening voice just managed to turn him on even
more. The danger was enticing, the look feeding his fantasy. *What
is up with me?* He glanced down quickly. *Not that thank god.* But
if this continued too much longer he was going to be singing soprano
in a heavenly chorus. He swallowed and managed to find his voice,
"N...No."

"Well let's move."

*And she moves so nicely.* Broots was seriously considering hitting
himself in the head but that would draw unwanted attention. *Get a
grip! And not on her!* He didn't know what in hell was going on. Sure
he'd been attracted to Miss Parker before, any man who wasn't obviously
didn't have a pulse. But never like this. Even the foreboding corridors of
SL-27, normally enough to shrivel his gonads, were doing nothing to
cool his ardour. A hiss broke into his thoughts.

"Broots!"

He hurried to catch up with her, making sure eye contact was avoided. Just
as he reached her and was about to ask what they were going to do, a noise
emanated from further down the corridor. In a panicked whisper he said,
"I thought you said no one was down here."

"There wasn't."

"Well there is now."

Miss Parker turned to him and replied very quietly, "No shit Sherlock." She
grabbed his arm and dragged him in the direction of the noise. As they
got closer the sound of running water became distinct.

"They have showers down here?" Broots queried.

Miss Parker just shrugged. Their ears were then assaulted by a groan, not
a groan of pain, but one of ecstasy. They were now outside the room that
seemed to be the source and with only a moment's hesitation Miss Parker
entered. Broots didn't move until his arm was nearly wrenched out of its
socket. More groans greeted him as he was pulled into a dark corner,
partially hidden by piled boxes, by Miss Parker. From their vantage
point they could see partly into a tiled room which looked like a bathroom.
On the floor in the entrance were what appeared to be a pair of rose pink
silk boxers.

Broots put two and two together and came up with a scenario he really
didn't want to know about. Stuck in such close proximity to Miss Parker,
the smell of her perfume, the brush of her suit against his arm, the warmth
of her thigh pressed against his...the groans reached a fevered pitch,
interspersed with a harsh male voice exclaiming "Yes! Yes!", echoing
his inner thoughts. Broots bit down hard on his lip trying to keep his
body under control. He nearly lost it as the groans ended in a shuddering
sigh.

He didn't dare look at the woman beside him, but could sense that her body
was rigid. Even though he knew that she had quite a sexual reputation, he
wasn't certain whether she was as turned on as he was or just embarrassed.
He was seriously considering throwing caution to the wind and indulging in
the sweet, soft body next to him. Feeling her pressed against him, their
tongues entwined, hands exploring her curves, matching their rhythms,
joining their bodies and souls...

Broots was jolted out of his reverie by movement from within the room
opposite. A hand reached out and grabbed the pair of boxers, the sound
of material on material, a zip being fastened, shoes being put on. Harsh,
wheezing breathing and a squeak...of a wheel...oh god...it couldn't be...no
that would be too disgusting to even consider...

Broots held his breath as a figure entered the room they were holed up in. A
stooped figure...dragging an oxygen tank...all sexual thoughts fled screaming
in horror. The woman beside him let out a short gasp. Broots felt like passing
out. They froze in place and stared as Raines slowly made his way out into the
corridor. There they remained for at least another five minutes, not daring to
move. Yet no one else exited and there was no movement or sound coming
from the bathroom. After another five minutes Miss Parker stood and stretched
and then walked over to the door of the torture chamber. When she realised
that Broots still hadn't moved she turned and asked him, "You coming?"

*Not anymore that's for sure!* He stood and walked over to her, refusing her
invitation for him to enter first. Following her in, it was confirmed that the
room was a bathroom, with a shower in the left hand corner. A wet towel
was draped over the shower rail and a bottle of shampoo sat on a shelf in the
shower recess. Gingerly Miss Parker reached in and picked up the bottle,
which was covered in suds, with two fingers. Broots looked at the bottle and
then at her before uttering, "But he hasn't got any hair."

"Look at the brand Broots."

It was Clairol Herbal Essences...he was still confused.

"The television ad Broots...a truly organic experience..."

"Oh," was all he could manage to say. *I definitely do not want what he was
having.* Broots felt his cheeks going red and looked up to find a smirk on Miss
Parker's lips.

She looked at his head and handed the bottle to him saying, "Here. You take it.
You haven't got much more hair than him."

As Broots stood there stunned, she turned and walked out. He gathered what was
left of his virility and followed her out, back into the corridors. As he watched
her from behind he was again assailed by erotic images...Miss Parker...him...duct
tape...shampoo...showers...marshmallows...hot chocolate...

Boy, it was going to be a very long afternoon...