Time stood still for about three seconds.

Ratchet kneeled there, still breathing hard and trying to recover slightly. He had to get what he wanted now; Staccato was down and out of the way, and no longer in any position to make demands. Sonata would HAVE to approach him in order to continue filming. She'd have to at least reach for his ears, if nothing else.

She had to have been impressed — he could put up with this crap at least long enough to get what he wanted. He knew she had been filming the whole thing with rapt attention. She had to figure out that it meant Ratchet would do anything for her, and quite literally at that . . . God, this had better be worth it!

The next few words weren't what Ratchet was expecting from Sonata."What in the . . ."

Ratchet blinked, suddenly becoming aware again of his surroundings as he looked around at the crowds whispering and murmuring around him, at Al and Clank whose eyes were wide in sheer shock, and then finally at Sonata. She clapped her camera off, and Ratchet's eyes went wide, suddenly all too aware that was he was nude, bound, and there was a good amount of something in his throat he never intended on having there.

He looked up at her, still kneeling, confused. "What's going on?"

"Wasted footage." She hissed, kneeling down to help Staccato to his feet. "Stack . . . are you able to get up and move?"

"Give me a minute . . ." Staccato groaned, before looking over at Ratchet. "Damn . . . you don't do anything halfway, do you?"

Ratchet blinked, speechless, before glaring at Sonata. "Damn it! I did what you wanted me to! Why aren't you coming over here?"

"You just answered your own question." Sonata snarled. "Staccato and I need to talk 'backstage'. You can stay there until you've calmed down."

It took a moment to compute all of this, but then Ratchet growled, and started trying to crawl for her. "You . . . you treacherous, conniving-!"

"Damn it, Ratchet!" Al leapt forward, holding the Lombax back. Clank stood in front of Ratchet, trying to push back on Ratchet's snout. The two managed to hold him in place while the two stars headed through the crowd, disappearing out of sight.

"Sonata, get back here!" Ratchet hissed, trying to break free and keep sight of Sonata's plaits. "SONATA!"

"Ratchet, calm down!" Al spoke, pushing Ratchet to the ground. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm not doing anything until someone explains what the hell is going on here!" Ratchet growled, watching as the crowd dispersed, no longer wanting to look at him.

It took a few minutes, but soon, Ratchet's breath had fully returned to normal, calming down, and even finding himself squeezed a little too tightly by Big Al. Clank stood in front of the Lombax with crossed arms, giving Ratchet a stern look.

This time, Ratchet seemed to make sense of it. " . . . I wasn't supposed to do that, was I?"

"You certainly got a bit 'carried away', and I don't think Staccato appreciated your . . . services." Clank remarked. "How are you feeling right now?"

Ratchet growled, then shook his head. "I feel like a freaking idiot right now . . ."

Clank cocked his head. "If I remove your restraints, do you think you can go and carry on a calm conversation with the Masters?"

Ratchet fumed another moment, and then nodded, slowly. "Just . . . get these things off me, please. And someone get me some damned pants!"

Six unlatched belt buckles and a loose pair of trousers later . . .

"Sonata?" Ratchet spoke up, knocking on the door frame. He peered in to see the two of them sitting together, analyzing something on a screen, and he knocked a little harder, catching Sonata's attention.

She turned, eyes wide. "Ratchet! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine . . . . just confused." Ratchet spoke, taking a few steps inside. "What's going on?"

"We're trashing tonight's footage." Staccato growled, going through his files. "Virtually everything you gave us tonight is now useless."

Ratchet's eyes went wide. "What? Why? I thought we were making tons of progress!"

"It's not that we didn't do a lot . . ." Sonata spoke, scratching one ear. "It's just that, well . . . Ratchet, can we sit down for this?"

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. This is . . . pretty serious." She replied, shaking her head. "Now have a seat."

Ratchet leaned back on a beanbag, confused. "What went wrong?"

Sonata sat down, making sure to keep her distance from Ratchet this time. "As you know, Ratchet, several of the laws surrounding sexual activity on Veldin are a bit . . . stricter than most places. And you probably also know that in order to use any of our footage, we have to comply with Veldin standards in order to distribute and display our work."

"Yeah . . . so what's going on here? Most of those rules apply to the ability to prove various rape cases based on the Birthright's standards, and-." Ratchet spoke, then blinked. "Oh . . . oh shit . . ."

He leaned back, pausing for a moment before putting a hand to his mouth, fingertips brushing along his lower lip, as though he understood. Sonata nodded, shaking her head. "Even in our 'private' footage, we can't allow anything that even looks like we've coerced anyone into performing, or else it could become evidence that gets used against us if one of our performers tries to come back and bite us in the ass. We've not been taken to court yet for our work, but there's been a couple municipalities that have tried to get us just based on the bondage aspects alone, and-."

"Simply put, we can't afford to let your 'performance' get back to Veldin. It's not healthy for either your reputation or ours." Staccato butted in.

"But I thought I was . . . I mean, up until your wife backed off, I thought she wanted to-!"

"It's just bad either way we look at this." Sonata shook her head. "Ratchet, I need you to calm down for two seconds and answer me; whatever you thought you were doing to Staccato earlier tonight, you certainly weren't doing it for his health. So why did you?"

"Because he was in the way!" Ratchet shot back, before blinking. "Oh . . ."

"Yeah. Basically, we could both end up with charges pressed for that stunt; on our part because based on the footage alone and our 'fun' from earlier tonight, I led you far enough that your participation could be seen as coercion, and on your part because, well . . . Staccato tried to disengage, and you wouldn't let him."

"There's a thin line between 'rough' and predatory." Staccato grumbled. "I'm pretty sure we both know which side yours landed on."

Ratchet blinked. "But I'm not a . . . you . . . that doesn't make any sense . . ."

"The situation snowballed. Tonight wasn't our usual sort of behavior, and it wasn't yours either." Sonata sighed. "Now, we're willing to call a spade a spade on this one; we'll get rid of tonight's footage and make sure that nobody else from this party leaves with any proof of you on my husband. In exchange, we don't want to hear about this night again, legal or otherwise. Got it?"

"Er . . ." Ratchet blinked, glancing over at the door where Clank and Al kept watch.

"Even without the whole legal aspect of this, we wouldn't have continued anyway." Sonata spoke, slumping into her seat.

Ratchet blinked. "Creeped you out that much, huh?"

Sonata chuckled. "Probably creeped yourself out too."

"Lack of blood really should count as being under the influence . . ." Ratchet sighed, placing one hand over himself.

Sonata took hold of his other hand, making eye contact. "Ratchet, you're a great guy and all, but watching you felt so . . . mechanical. If there's one thing Staccato and I need to impress on you before we go, it's that there's plenty of people in this galaxy and more than enough outlets for cheap sex and other semi-masturbatory outlets for all of them that there's no reason to treat these things like they were a chore. All you seemed to care about out there was getting to me so I could bring you off again . . . and that's not what my work is about."

"She's right about that much." Clank interjected, walking into the room.

"Clank, this really isn't the time . . ." Ratchet whined, blushing now.

Sonata smirked. "He's right, you know. I invest way too much effort into having sex on camera to do it poorly. Now, Let's see how good you are at taking notes . . ."

Ratchet found himself on the floor a few minutes later, hands secured to the camera, seeking out the best camera angle he could while avoiding being kicked by Staccato's feet. "Come on, don't make me beg here . . ."

"The only one . . . begging here . . . better be me . . ." Sonata coughed out, arms behind her and straddling over her husband. Staccato was laid out, lounging and picking at the laces holding Sonata upright, even as he had a smile on his face that made it clear he was still having a good time.

"The trick is to make sure that regardless of who's claiming control, the 'host' should always have the final word. Anything else is coercion at minimum." Staccato smiled, sitting up. "Lean back a little. Let the cameraman see what he wants."

Sonata nodded, letting her arms hold her up as she stretched, bringing her legs up to accommodate the new view. Ratchet's eyes went wider, even as he panned back for the full shot of Staccato's hold on his wife.

"Up here, quickly." Staccato barked out to Ratchet, who stood up immediately, focusing on his smirking face. "Look at her. She's beautiful."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"I mean besides the obvious. Just keep the camera up here, on her face." Staccato smiled, turning to give her a kiss on the cheek before nipping her ear. "Those ragged breaths, those sweat-wicked hairs . . . The sheer pleasure in knowing that every little move I make keeps her up and perked . . . She's happy. She's having the time of her life."

Ratchet kept his focus on it, holding the camera steady, but still slightly confused. "That's what you want me to focus on?"

"You have no idea . . ." Sonata moaned out, leaning back further.

The frosty Lombax nodded, arms wrapped around her shoulders. "Never forget, my naive little virgin; there is plenty to be said for the pleasures of the self, but when it comes to our work, we must focus on the pleasure of others. Always."

Sonata nodded, just before throwing her head back, letting loose with a loud, throaty chirp, piercing the air. She chirped again, trying to ride out her wave as long as she could, and it was all Ratchet could do to let the camera follow her body, watching her last throes of excitement. Soon enough, she slipped loose, curling her legs up to the rest of her body and letting out a soft purr.

"You can stop filming now." A white hand darted out, turning off Ratchet's camcorder, and then unlocking the restraints that held Ratchet's hands to the camera. "If you need to deal with 'other' matters, now would be a good time."

Ratchet blinked, then looked down at himself; in all of the effort he'd put into with filming (and being unable to remove his hands from the camera), he was obviously aroused, and yet...

"I'll just ask for some pants now, thanks." Ratchet tried to smile, sheepish. "I've caused enough mayhem for one night."

"Good. So you can learn after all." Sonata chuckled, tossing the hero a pair. "I just hope your friends enjoyed that as much as you seemed to."

"Oh, I'll find out about that soon enough." Ratchet grinned, looking over at a red-handed Al and a blushing Clank, off to one side. "I'm sure they won't be able to talk about much else."

Staccato laughed, pulling out the disc from the camera, inspecting it and putting it in its own case. Then, he handed it to Ratchet, whose eyes went wide, even as he took the disc from the star.

"Hey, it's your film. We're just the actors this time." he spoke, a husky tone in his voice. "Consider it a way to pass the time later."

"Thanks. I . . . er . . ." The lombax stammered, nervous.

Sonata shrugged. "Hey, maybe you'll start your own films now. You know, when the galaxy doesn't need saving every now and then."

"I doubt that'll ever happen." Ratchet smirked, regaining his confidence. "Thanks for tonight though . . . Sorry about being such a dick earlier."

"Hey, the galaxy needs a good dick like you. You just need a little more self-control." Sonata spoke as she wriggled out of the bonds that kept her arms behind her, then hugged Ratchet, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Leaving now?"

"Well, soon . . . want to check out that fine spread outside before we go. A guy's got to eat."

"Ah, yes. I remember hearing something about 'Body Sushi' . . ." Staccato spoke, smirking a little. "I should go and check that selection out myself."

Ratcher grinned, turning to leave. Sonata's hand caught him on the shoulder, though. "One more thing, Ratchet . . . about that tattoo of yours . . ."

"I'll probably get it removed in a few weeks. I can't really think of a good 'replacement' I'd want them to cover it up with anyway."

"I'd just as soon leave it alone. Tampering with tattoos is always a little too tricky, even in this day and age, and besides . . ." She came up behind him, cooing into his right ear, bristing against the inner fur. "I think it's hot!"