A/N: Well, I hope you all had a nice Easter. I was going to maybe leave this for Monday/Tuesday, but Easter Sunday gave me plenty of time to get something done. It's nice being somewhat productive again instead of getting stoned and playing Skyrim.

Paradox Effect

Summary: Dying sucked. Dying and being killed by the same teammate again? That sucked even more. Dying and being thrown back into Blood Gulch as a girl? That REALLY sucked. Now, Leona Church will have to deal with Tucker's perverted looks, Caboose's stupidity, and worst of all, Tex's laughter…

*Chapter 36*

After a very rough session of sex with Tex, Leona had gotten dressed and forced Tex to do the same. The blonde Freelancer pouted and complained the entire time, saying it was far too much effort to get out of bed, but Leona was not putting up with her shit today. Not when she had the damn Reds to worry about and York being an asshole.

"You're such a tyrant," Tex groaned as the blue haired woman dragged her topside. "My idea of a holiday is being far away from people I hate, not interact with them."

"Yeah, well tough shit. If I have to put up with them, so do you." Leona glared. "Don't worry; it'll be us and York making bets on how long Tucker can keep Caboose distracted for. I've got money on four hours if he starts asking him math questions."

"You really think Tucker's smart enough to know the answers himself?" Tex asked dryly. "He can't even tie his shoes without adult supervision."

"I gave him a calculator for Christmas; he'll be fine." Leona smirked. "Don't look surprised. When I want to be I can be a crafty bitch."

"Oh I'm not surprised," Tex said. "Just wondering where the hell you got the money for that."

"Bold of you to assume I paid for it."

"…York stole it didn't he?"

"Yes. Yes he did." Leona snorted. "Why he decided to take to petty thievery is beyond me."

"For the thrill, of course." York poked his head in to join. "I felt much more alive climbing through a window than sitting in a damn classroom. And hey, it took a lot of effort to steal those presents. You know how hard it is to sneak into Red Base without leaving any proof I was there? Not easy, I tell you."

"What, someone actually bothers to patrol that base? I thought their defenses were shit. I mean hell, they let me in." Leona scoffed.

"Yeah, well…no they don't actually patrol," York admitted. "They just sit around and talk. Not even anything fun or interesting. Just wondering what the fuck we're doing over here and wondering why they're stuck in a terrible canyon instead of fighting aliens."

"So basically the exact same shit we do," Leona deadpanned. "Gotcha."

"Yeah, pretty much. Albeit with a lot less sex. So hey, we're technically doing a lot better than they are," York tried.

"Yeah, because the only thing they have over there is their right hand and their imagination." Tex rolled her eyes. "I guess none of them are batting for the home team."

"Well…that one in pink definitely does," Leona corrected. "He even has a wine and cheese hour. Dots all of his I's with hearts in his diary."

"Why do you know all of that?" Tex sighed.

"I might have stumbled onto it when I was there," Leona admitted. "Gotta say, his diary is really fucking depressing. Like I thought my life sucked at first. But now? I think I have it pretty well off, considering."

"You do you, I guess."

"I do that enough on my own when Tex isn't here, funnily enough."

York had chosen at that time to take a sip of the beer he stole from the Reds and coughed on it. Beer came out of his nose and he rubbed his face, laughing. "L-leona, you know how much it fucking hurts to shoot beer out of your nose?"

"I don't know. Tell me." Leona thumped him on the back so he wouldn't cough on it. "Or would you rather take a minute before speaking? In case something else comes out."

"Not…funny…" York wheezed. Once he had recovered he looked over at Tex, who was snickering at Tucker and Caboose. "Are you in on the bet, by the way? Leona thinks Tucker can keep that big blue baby busy for four hours. I say it is going to be over in ten minutes."

"I'll take those odds." The blonde slapped a crisp fifty credit card into the betting pile. "How long do we have to wait before Leona wins?"

"About…" York checked his watch. "Two hours and fifty minutes. Can always watch a movie or something to make it fly by faster. Or a game of cards."

"Oooh yes." Leona grinned. "How about we up the stakes for it? Instead of a regular game of poker, how about strip poker?"

York paled at the evil grins that Tex and Leona wore. "Oh fuck…"

Wyoming gnashed his teeth together angrily as he tried to ignore the constant bickering of the two morons behind him and scout properly. "Good God, it's like idiots in stereo. Do you two ever shut up for once?"

"Fuck off, dude. You're making us work on a holiday," Grif snapped. "All because you're jealous of your old teammate for getting to fuck two chicks."

Wyoming lashed out with an elbow and caught the fat bastard in the crotch. Grif howled in pain and doubled over, Simmons letting out a sigh. "Won't say, 'I told you so'." Grif responded by giving the maroon soldier the middle finger.

The British Freelancer growled and looked through the scope of his rifle, peering at Blue Base. On one side by a rock marked in green paint were two of the idiots. He decided they meant nothing to his objective and passed them over, turning his attention to movement at the top of the base.

What he saw made his jaw drop, and he actually stepped back from his rifle to make sure he wasn't off his rocker. "No…that can't be right."

He looked again and there was no mistaking it. This was happening.

York, Tex, and the blue haired woman who socked him in the face were playing what appeared to be a game of strip poker. York was losing, horribly. In fact, the bluenette was the one winning if the lack of clothes near her was anything to go by.

His finger hovered in the trigger guard; he wasn't going to get a better shot than this to shoot York and finally be able to go home and watch some Downtown Abbey with tea and biscuits. Uncultured swine calling them cookies.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to shoot. Wyoming stepped back, slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder, and pushed Grif out of his way. "Alright. We're going back. I've had enough of this today and need to lie down."

The Reds looked way too happy to listen to him. Still, could be worse.

He was still clothed, after all. "Thanks for the blackmail material, York."

A/N: Yeah I kinda just went with it. By the way, top tip: do not play strip poker while incredibly drunk at 2am. It doesn't go well.

-Classiest#8332