A/N: Hello and welcome to what is now chapter 39. Last off, the Reds got a nice shiny delivery. They'll be responsible, right?

Fuck no. It's the Reds.

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 39*

Leona liked to think her temper was completely under control at all times. Sure she shouted at her teammates or the Reds whenever they were being assholes, but she hadn't killed any of them yet. Believe it, she wanted to.

Especially when she got cockblocked harder than the Titanic because of the goddamn Reds being…well, the Reds. Seriously, why the hell did Sarge think their little fake war was still going on? They just happened to be stationed at opposite ends of the canyon…in color divided teams. While also heavily armed at all times.

Okay, maybe Sarge had a point. A point on his head but a point nonetheless.

Leona let out a frustrated sigh and glared daggers at the Reds, who had crashed their shiny new Rocket Warthog into her team's base yelling a battle cry. "Dude…you have got to be fucking kidding me. I've known for years that you guys have the worst timing ever, but this takes cockblocking to a whole new level."

"Silence, Blue!" Sarge roared. "You lied to me! You made us think we could coexist and maybe a little…purple!"

"We are! Seriously, what the actual fuck are you idiots going on about!?" the blue haired woman asked in annoyance.

"You kidnapped one of my men! That Freelancer!" Sarge pointed to Wyoming. The white armored Freelancer was, God help us, using a welding torch on the stolen Warthog and he waved with a cheery whistle as everyone stared at him.

"That asshole? He just fucking showed up. I didn't kidnap him." Leona snorted. "Trust me, I've tried like five times to make him leave. I don't know why he's still here; if I were him I'd be as far from this base as possible." Call it a curse or coincidence, but Blue Base was starting to make a habit of being a hot zone for trouble. First the whole separation from her body shit, then York, then Doc losing his goddamn mind, and now Wyoming.

She swore the universe just had a hate boner for her. 'Fuck my life.'

"Also, could you kindly not rope me in with these two morons?" Grif pointed to Sarge and Simmons. "I just fucking work here; they do not speak for me."

That summed up Leona's own feelings towards this shit, funnily enough.

"Shut up, dirtbag." Sarge punched Grif in the head for his treasonous remark, the fat orange soldier falling out of the driver's seat with a cry of pain. "Now…Leona, surrender my Freelancer!"

"Seriously?" Leona sighed in exasperation. "Please, take him. The sooner he's out of my hair the better."

"Wait, really?" Sarge's shotgun lowered. "You just want us to…take him? What kind of dirty tricks are you up to, Blue?"

"Do you honestly believe that I want anything to do with that jackass? Like I said, you'd be doing me a favor. I have enough problems without him adding more, thank you very much."

…

"You don't want anything?" Sarge asked after a few seconds of awkward silence. The crickets stopped chirping and the red armored sergeant hopped out of the Warthog. "Nothing at all?"

"Well…now that you've given me time to think, yes." Leona smirked. "I want to hear you say that you suck, you're a girl, you've got ribbons in your hair, and you want to kiss all the boys."

"Oh God, you're so cruel." Church groaned in agony just thinking about that.

'You know it.'

Sarge stuttered for breath, taken aback by the exchange request. "My hearing isn't what it used to be. What did you just say you wanted?"

"You heard me, old man." Leona smirked. "I want to hear someone on Red Team say it."

Sarge and Simmons looked down at Grif.

"It," Grif deadpanned.

THUNK!

"OW!" Grif held his stomach with a groan. "Fine!"

He dusted himself off and got up, his head lowered in despair. "I just want everyone to know that I suck, I'm a girl, I've got ribbons in my hair, and I want to kiss all the boys."

Church choked.

"Snrk." Sarge had to turn away to prevent Leona from seeing how hard he was laughing. He would rather die that admit that a Blue made him laugh. For the glory of the Red Team!

"I hate all of you. Die screaming."

"Works for me. Now go get your Freelancer. Also, may I suggest keeping him on a leash?" Leona offered helpfully. "Maybe a shock collar too. He's into that shit."

"Thought you were the masochist." Grif let out a grunt as he crawled back into the driver's seat of his team's Warthog and reversed away from the base, grumbling about how many pedals were in the damn thing.

"No Grif, I just make an exception for Tex. I gave up trying to be her dom long ago." Leona looked at the dent the Reds had caused by ramming their vehicle into the side of Blue Base and felt herself get more annoyed. It would take far longer than it should to fix that. Thankfully, she could just pass over the bitch work to York. She was technically still a captain.

"No, you're a private with a dead captain. That makes you a private. With a dead captain," Church corrected.

'Nope. Captain. I was Flowers' second, which means I take up CO.'

"What kind of convoluted bullshit is that?"

"Ha, I knew it. You're completely fucking whipped." Grif snorted in laughter and before Leona could snap back, the fat orange soldier hit the gas pedal. Horrible Spanish music blared from the vehicle's stereo and chunks of dirt spat out from its tires as it sped away in a hurry.

The blue haired woman watched the Warthog fly over towards Wyoming and made a point to turn her back when he started to ask for help. 'Nope. Not my problem. Let the Reds deal with him. Unless they're too scared to actually take him on.'

Pfft. They probably were actually terrified of the moustached Freelancer. And they called her whipped?

"Hey Blue Tits!" Tucker yelled from the top of the base. "York wants to ask you something!"

"Why are you screaming? I'm like five feet away." Leona rolled her eyes and looked up at the resident pervert. "The hell does he want?"

"I don't know. If I knew that I would've told you. Bitch."

"Asshole."

"Bottom."

"Why yes, I do let a hot blonde top me every night. How could you tell?"

"Piss off." Tucker groaned and gave her the finger. "Look, I don't know what; he just said it was important and to go find you. That's it."

'Great.'

Still. Could be worse.

"Ow! You fucking bellend! Put me down!"

"Not a chance, you slippery bastard. You're staying with us!"

THUNK!

"You fucking knobhead! Go shag your dog, you twat!" Wyoming seethed as he was dragged by the legs alongside a Warthog on his back. True, his suit would prevent him from suffering any real internal damage, but the shame of it. Oh the shame of it.

Being dragged along by bloody simulation troopers by his ankles. How the mighty had fallen.

He was just thankful he wasn't getting a phone call from York. He would die from laughter if he witnessed this.

"York? What's so funny?"

York handed Leona the footage from Blue Team's perimeter cameras.

Leona covered her mouth and immediately saved it, sending various copies to the rest of Blue Team.

"Oh this is going to be great…"

A/N: And there we go. Needed to get this out of the way so I could concentrate on scandalous lewds.

I never thought I'd ever write the words, "Choke me harder mistress," in my life. Long story.

-Kagerou#0007