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Propelled by the roller-skate shoes he’d accidentally activated in excitement, Lana found herself in Inspector Gadget’s arms, rolling away from her trailer at a breakneck speed. He had just come to visit her, and even though he was uninvited, she didn’t care. She was always prepared to capture whatever adversary her client, Doctor Claw, threw her way. It was her natural talent: The ability to promise a man anything they wanted without ever giving it up. A talent that had resulted in an admirable career, and now, a lucrative contract with MAD.
While Lana had no problem seducing the Inspector (according to her memo, he was a long-time fan), being on the receiving end of his affection was much more precarious than the typical fan. Every time Lana so much as spoke to him, his gadgets would malfunction in some way, causing detours much like the one they were currently in. But, looking at his face — that dumb, puppy-love expression — Lana knew she still had him in the palm of her hand.
So, she continued with her routine. A simple request, one she had used many times to her advantage:
“How about taking me back to my trailer for some... cocoa?”
Okay, that last bit was new. Usually she’d offer something a little stronger. But frankly, Lana didn’t know what to offer the Inspector. He was certainly an adult man. He was a physical threat, someone who consistently overthrew MAD’s most sophisticated evil plans. He was clearly attracted to her, like most other adult men. But something about him felt... too innocent. Like offering him alcohol would be illegal somehow. So, cocoa it was. She wasn’t sure how his faulty gadgets would react to liquor, anyway, and her bruises from her last run-in with him didn’t want to find out.
Gadget’s lovestruck gaze refused to leave Lana’s face. She’d also just realized now that sweat was pouring from his face, threatening to stain her dress. It was a little gross.
“No problem,” Gadget replied enthusiastically. He extended one of his gadget arms to the doorknob of the trailer, safely returning them inside.
❋❋❋
The trailer was lit with a single, warm lamp. Although this alone would make it sound modest, what the lighting revealed was hardly the case. The carpet and walls were a deep, glowing red. Directly to the left of the door was a mauve privacy curtain, tied open with golden tassles. Behind it was her baroque chaise lounge, upholstered in pink velvet. Slipping his shoes off at the front door, Gadget sat on the lounge, one leg crossed upon the other. Although she was turned away from him at the moment, she knew he wasn’t looking at any of the suspiciously museum-quality paintings on the walls or the Greek pillars being used as coffee tables. Lana knew he only had eyes for her.
Ignoring the feeling of being watched, she began to prepare their drinks on a wooden table across the way. She’d never used MAD’s poison formula in cocoa before. Upon contact, the drink turned a sickly swamp green, thick foam forming atop. Clearly, this was not normal cocoa. But she had a feeling he wouldn’t notice.
“Inspector,” she said, filling the awkward silence, “you look wonderful today.”
Ignoring the compliment, Gadget extended his arms to grab the drink tray away from her.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he insisted, placing the tray on the coffee table beside him.
“My, you are a handyman,” she responded, only the faintest hint of annoyance escaping her sultry voice.
Unexpectedly, Gadget rose from the lounge and stood behind her, laughing.
“I’ve got a million of 'em,” he bragged. Suddenly a fist appeared from his hat, punching Lana in what she presumed was supposed to be a friendly hit. Before she could cry out in pain, Gadget began cycling through his toys: A whistle, helicopter, skis...
❋❋❋
Lana opened her eyes to the blinding red of her trailer’s ceiling. Her forehead was... cold and wet? She moved a hand to touch it. It felt like a bag of ice. Holding it, she blinked a few times, then sat up.
“Ugh... what happened?” Lana croaked.
To her surprise, Gadget was still there, sitting as far away on the chaise lounge as possible, twiddling his thumbs, eyebrows knotted. When he noticed her movement, he sat up in attention.
“I, uh, er... I... got a little carried away with my demonstration,” he explained, scratching behind his head. “You must be tougher than a MAD agent to make it out unscathed!”
Ignoring what would be an obvious comeback, Lana tried to process her surroundings. Her clothes were still on, save for her heels, which were now placed neatly near the trailer door. They looked awfully tiny next to Gadget’s gigantic man-loafers. One of the trailer’s windows was open, but nothing in the room was gone. Nothing had been moved.
“How long was I out for?”
“A couple minutes,” Gadget replied.
Lana took her hand away from her head to observe the ice. It was wrapped in cellophane. She knew she had ice in her trailer somewhere, but she could only guess where he got the wrapper from.
“I was trying to keep you cool,” Gadget explained. “You don’t seem to have air conditioning in here.”
“...Thank you,” Lana said.
“No, don’t thank me,” Gadget insisted, waving his hands in front of him, “I was the one that knocked you out.”
“But you could’ve just left,” Lana replied, “Or, you know. Captured me. Send me to the police.”
“Why on earth would I want to do that?” Gadget asked incredulously. After a pondering moment, he remembered: “I know people have been spreading nasty rumors that you’re a MAD agent,” he scooched closer, “But don’t worry, Miss Lana, I’m smarter than to believe that baloney.” Gadget grabbed her gloved hands in his, squeezing them in confidence.
Lana couldn’t believe it. He really didn’t think she was a MAD agent. In her moment of utmost vulnerability, his first thought was to keep her safe. Not even for a second did he think that the most logical thing to do would be to call backup and have the trailer surrounded. And she was supposed to poison this guy? He was so clueless, so...
“You’re so sweet,” Lana said. She was immediately taken aback by the way the compliment came out with such familiarity. Usually she had that line rehearsed better.
Lana shifted her hands in his. Gadget’s eyes widened and he gained a pinkish hue, as if he’d seen something that embarrassed him.
“A-heh...” Gadget mumbled. “ You know, Lana, with how close we are, you’d think we were about to kiss or something...”
Lana perked up an eyebrow. Now that was a funny idea. Kissing the world-famous Inspector Gadget, a man blinded by his infatuation with her, so much so that he was oblivious to the fact that she was his enemy. And he wasn’t that bad looking, either.
...Why not?
She leaned in to give Gadget a chaste peck on the lips. This was more than enough to cause steam to come out of his ears, the pressure screeching like a train whistle. But Lana barely noticed. She was still trying to process what she’d just done. His lips were surprisingly soft, clinical. They tasted like... silicone?
Curiosity got the best of her. Just as he began to pull away, Lana pulled him back in, making sure that their lips were locked properly. The noise Gadget let out could only be classified as a muffled yelp, and the siren from inside his hat emerged, blaring and flashing like an ambulance. Lana thought past the noise, trying to discern what parts of the Inspector were all-human. She confirmed that his lips, indeed, tasted — and felt — like silicone. With a hum, she inched her lips wider to get into his mouth. She usually didn’t have to go this far with a target, but she still had the move in her repertoire for those who were harder to crack (although Gadget was certainly not such a case).
Contrastedly from his lips, Gadget’s tongue was very real, or at least it felt that way. Every intricate muscle was present. His saliva was thick and sweet, with just the slightest tinge of... motor oil. Very interesting, Lana thought as Gadget’s siren continued to fire. She pulled away, a thread of split splitting between them and landing unceremoniously on the inspector's chin.
“My goodness, Lana,” he exhaled, “You’re amazing.” With a downward turn of pitch, his siren stopped functioning, but it failed to retreat into his hat.
“You’re quite the specimen yourself, Inspector,” Lana replied, pushing the siren back into its place with a loud thump. She didn’t want to think about where the mechanism was stored. But she wanted to know other things about this curious bionic man. In part to learn his weaknesses, sure. But also for more... personal reasons.
“Well,” Gadget said, “I am... quite the handyman...” The call-back drowned in meekness as Lana traced a red velvet-gloved finger across his jawline.
“Tell me, Inspector” Lana purred, “Just how much of you is human?” She briefly remembered the reason why he was part robot, as detailed in her memo. “Er... unless you’re sensitive about that.”
Gadget stood up suddenly, his eyes bright with excitement.
“Oh, it’s no problem at all! I would love to show you!”
As quick as he had gotten up, Gadget’s mechanical arms emerged from his hat, took off his trench coat, and folded it neatly into a pile on the floor, leaving him in a white dress shirt, blue tie, and suspenders. Then went the tie, which he removed himself with slightly less grace. His assisting gadget hands unclipped his suspenders as he unbuttoned the shirt. Lana quickly reminded herself not to stare at his body and moved to his face. That was a mistake. The boyish excitement in his eyes paired with his worn smile trapped her in what felt like a life-or-death situation.
“Come on, don’t be shy!” Gadget insisted, his voice too loud for the small space, “You can come closer!”
Confused, Lana followed. Gadget grabbed her hand and directly placed it onto the exposed part of his chest. It was warm. There was a thin smattering of black hair. It certainly could be skin.
“This is real,” he explained, “or at least the skin is. Can’t show you what’s underneath it, heh.”
Does he seriously just want to show me how he's built? Lana wondered. There didn’t appear to be any ulterior motive. It was bizarre. She moved her silk hand across his chest, nimble fingers moving under the fabric of his shirt.
“Wowzers!” Gadget yelled, mechanical arms snapping back into his hat. “Getting a little handsy there!”
Lana looked up at him. She didn’t notice how much taller he was than her until that moment — at least a foot, and she wasn’t that short.
“Isn’t that what you're here for?” she asked.
Like a thermometer in boiling water, red rushed from Gadget’s neck to the top of his head. He attempted to pull at his collar out of habit, but instead the shirt just fell off his shoulder, revealing an arm that was much more recognizably artificial. A soldered joint kept the faux arm on his torso.
“Ah.... hah. I’m sorry Miss Lana, I didn’t mean to make it seem like...”
“Like what?” Lana probed.
He gulped. “Like I... wanted to take advantage of you.”
“Advantage?” she laughed, and Gadget just blinked.
Standing as tall as tip-toes would allow her, she slid the shirt off of the other shoulder, guiding one gloved finger across the newly-revealed arm, which slowly morphed into a grope. And although she thought she’d gripped him pretty hard, he didn’t seem to react.
Stepping away slightly, she admired how all his pieces came together. He was childish, sure, but he was certainly built like a man — mechanical or otherwise. In fact, paired with his striking profile, he was quite handsome.
“My dear Inspector,” Lana said, her purple-shadowed lids fluttering low, “You don’t have to be sorry for anything.” She stepped forward and cupped his face. It was hot. “In fact,” she continued, “I'd love to see everything you have to show me.” Surely, he could get the hint.
Gadget stared at her, and after a few pondering moments, a literal lightbulbed popped over his head. “Ohhhhhh. I get the hint,” Gadget remarked. “You want to see my other robot parts!”
Before Lana could facepalm, he pushed down his pants with an emphatic fwomp.
Gadget stood confidently before Lana in nothing but his socks, garters, gloves, and a pair of baggy boxers. They were white with baby blue stripes. She couldn’t even glean a hint of anatomy from them.
“As you can see, Miss Lana,” he motioned to legs, “Much like my arms, my lower body is also artificial. It acts as flexible support for when my appendages expand.” She wondered if he caught the innuendo, but he continued on without a hitch: “If that were all flesh, well, it wouldn't feel good, that's for certain.”
Now this was getting ridiculous.
“Um, Inspector,” she interrupted, “I can't see you very well with the height difference. Maybe we could move this back to the lounge?”
“Certainly!” he replied with enthusiasm.
Passing by Lana without so much as a graze of the shoulder, he returned to that velvet chair, sitting straight, patting the remaining space next to him as if he had spotted her across the lunch hall in school.
Lana smirked as she hatched her new plan. Of course, absolutely none of this was necessary. In fact, it sabotaged her current mission. The cocoa was certainly too cold to revisit now. $50 of MAD poison formula down the drain. But the challenge right in front of her was much more interesting. What was that saying again? We want the ones we can’t have?
She waltzed towards him. She put on the darkest gaze she could muster. And she sat in his lap.
“Lana,” Gadget choked out, his hands sproinging out of their sockets, “It’s hard — er, difficult — to observe from that angle, don’t you think?” Ah. So he does understand innuendo.
“I can see you perfectly, Inspector,” Lana replied. She went in for another kiss, which, of course, the Inspector tried his best to keep respectful. But Lana already had an inkling of how to crack him. With gentle fingertips, she brushed the sides of his fleshy torso, the only part that still had nerves, or so she assumed. With a hungry moan, he fell deeper into her trap, and Gadget’s hands found themselves on Lana’s own waist, which they enclosed almost entirely. While it could’ve easily been suffocating, Lana felt oddly comforted.
Pulling back, Lana fluttered her eyes at Gadget. “You’re a good kisser, my dear Inspector,” she cooed, and it wasn’t a lie either. Simple, sure, but he kept a momentum that was hardly boring. Gadget just stammered, unable to focus as Lana began to pull down one of the straps of her dress.
“You — Lana — I mean — you don’t have to —”
“I don’t have to, Inspector, but I want to.” She could just barely hear the sound of gears grinding. “Would you like to inspect me?” She whispered, smiling.
A loopy grin drew across Gadget’s face. “Yes!” he practically yelled. “I mean —” he returned to a lower volume, “Of course madam. I’m... always on duty...”
Lana giggled. When was the last time that happened? Gadget was still a typical hormonal man behind the engineering, sure, but for the poor malfunctioning cyborg, there was absolutely nothing to hide. No games. No tricks. No serious masks.
Wordlessly, Gadget’s shaking hand pushed the other strap down, and the bust of Lana’s dress fell to her waist, leaving the Inspector face-to-face with her lingerie. Her brassiere was white, lacy, something that barely looked practical. Well, it was practical for its singular purpose, which was to arouse. It barely left anything to Gadget's imagination. He launched his extra hands at her back, unclipping the bra with a surprising lack of clumsiness.
“Wowzers.”
Gadget’s hat opened again, several tools and gizmos hanging out limply. He rushed to fit them back in, his eyes wandering down to her corset. Lana inhaled. Back in the early days of her career, this was always the point where admiring eyes turned cold. Removing the corset seemed to hammer an indelible crack in the foundation of their fantasies, the Lana that lived only in their head.
“You won’t be needing this,” Gadget said matter-of-factly, his fingers untying the corset’s laced back. Like a sheath, it fell off in one piece.
Gadget rubbed her newly-revealed hips, the pouch of her stomach, both a little raw from being held in all day. He lowered his head to kiss her stomach.
“That’s much better,” he mused. “You’re so beautiful, Lana.”
Lana couldn’t help but squirm in shock. No one had deliberately touched her there before, nevermind show genuine affection. Lana felt the heat of embarrassment rising on her face, and she wished she could wash it off. But he didn’t seem to notice it, anyway.
Bringing his head back, Gadget moved his hands up her body, embracing her curves, climbing to her chest, her nipples, deeply observant, circling them until they hardened. His gloves were a very thick brown leather, and while the material felt nice, Lana wanted them gone. She tugged lightly at the article from its cuff, but it wouldn't budge.
“Oh, sorry,” Gadget said, snapped out of his trance. “No hands under there. Just, uh... gadgets.”
But not the gadget she wanted. Lana shifted her weight on his lap, arching backwards ever so slightly. This gave him better access to her chest, but that was merely a mutual benefit of the action. She shifted again. He had something down there... or was it just his leg? Abandoning her act for the sake of answers, she arched even further back, looking unabashedly at the Inspector’s crotch. She had to know if it was real. Gadget’s only reaction was to extend his arms so he could still reach her chest, blocking her view. Frustrated, Lana pivoted. Why be subtle about it? Clearly, that wasn’t the Inspector’s specialty. She grabbed between his legs.
“Ee-yikes!” Gadget yelped, his hand snapping back into place. On reflex, it went atop Lana’s, inadvertently rubbing her across his erection.
“Now now, Inspector,” she cooed, “Getting excited, aren’t we?” She made the motion a little more deliberate, and it twitched.
“Yes,” he exhaled. “Yes Lana. You’re so... exciting.”
She was caught off guard when she felt a gadget hand reach behind her to grab her behind. For a moment, she wondered if those extra hands could feel. But that seemed not the case as they desperately tried to take the rest of her dress off, tugging fruitlessly until she feared it would rip.
“Let me take this off, dear,” Lana said, and she removed herself from Gadget’s grasp, to his visible disappointment. As she stood, the dress naturally fell to the floor, and his disappointment quickly faded. His eyes scanned her as she bent over to remove her lacy panties, letting them lie neatly on the ground with the bra and the corset. When she looked up, Gadget appeared to be melting into the lounge.
Aiming for two birds with one stone, Lana knelt down to remove Gadget’s boxers, bringing her the answer to her lingering question. It was definitely fake, almost a slap-on addition to his pelvic region. But she didn't dare ask — he wasn’t going to get the answers she wanted from him. This was a hands-on experiment. Lana began to pull off her right glove, but Gadget extended his arm to catch her hand in his.
“Do you have to take off the gloves, my sweet?” he asked. “They feel so nice.”
Begrudgingly, she kept them on. These were her favorite, but she had another pair somewhere. Plus, it wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d been asked to do during a handjob. Humming, she traced a single finger from the base to the tip. Gadget physically shivered.
“You can still feel everything, right?” she asked, knowing the answer.
“It’s all there,” Gadget said, shaking.
Adding a few more fingers, she continued to trail up and down his shaft, cupping the head, varying the pressure as she saw fit. It didn't take much for Gadget to react favorably. His belaboured breath, struggling to hold back moans, was the only noise in the room.
“Please, Lana,” he whined.
“Please what?” she countered, looking up at the Inspector. The flush on his face had spread down to his chest, which was practically heaving.
“Go... faster... or harder... or — uh — I don’t mean to be rude, but...”
Lana stood and sat back on the Inspector’s lap, which immediately shut him up. Her humid skin became cold as it touched his plastic thighs. With a kiss on his burning cheek, she began stroking him, adding pressure only when his moans quieted down, just to rile him up again. Looking down, she could just barely see where his natural body connected to his fake legs. Looking up, she saw the blissful look of a man being touched by what he likely thought was an angel, a wet dream he could wake up from any moment. His eyes were half-lidded, his face was pink, and his smile was stupidly wide. How cute.
Some minutes later, she decided to play her hand across his torso, squishing, pinching, trailing down to his stomach and back to his cock. She was caught off guard as the Inspector came in for another kiss. Hungrier, wetter. For a moment, it felt euphoric. But an unwelcome pressure on her thigh — she assumed his hand — made her wince away in pain. Gadget's hand recoiled, revealing a large, purplish bruise.
“How did that happen?” Gadget asked.
“You've been rough with me,” Lana retorted, although she instantly regretted her tone.
“I've been very gentle,” Gadget replied, crossing his arms. “I can't think of a single thing I've done that could've...”
His eyes met Lana's, her brows lowered scoldingly at him. “...Oh. I did do that, didn’t I.”
“It was the skis,” she explained, turning her head away.
“Well, I'm very sorry about that, my dear Lana,” Gadget said.
“It's alright,” Lana replied. The sincerity in his voice made it impossible to be mad at him. Reluctantly, she looked up at him, revealing an expression that was a bit gray.
But she wasn’t about to let this end.
“You'll help me feel better again, won't you?”
Gadget instantly perked up. “Oh, will I! My dearest Lana, I'd do anything to —”
His declaration was cut off by her lips, continuing his previous kiss tenfold, adding tongue for decent measure. God, how his desperation turned her on. Physically. He was an absolute mess. For her. She had complete control. She could do whatever she wanted with him. She could even force him to drink that cold poison, probably, if she promised a single touch from her on the other end.
But she didn’t want a single touch.
She pulled herself closer to him, closer into his lap, feeling that wanting thing resting against her stomach.
“If you'll do anything for me, Inspector,” she whispered into his ear, “then let me fuck you.”
Gadget looked at her with wide-eyed shock and cherry-red smears of lipstick across his mouth. The rest of his body cooperated to get her in position. His shaking hands gripped her hips just a little too hard as she positioned herself above him. Keeping her eyes on his face, she sank down, blonde landing strip lowering inch by suffering inch. Gadget whimpered, a noise she never would imagine he could make.
“Oh, Lana,” a soft, low voice rang in her ear, “you feel amazing.”
Slowly, she rose, then fell again. With Gadget’s arms across her back, the pace quickened, and Gadget provided his own assistance with shallow, almost shaking thrusts, even when she thought she had gone as deep as possible. It was the first time she'd ever seen him really try to control himself, and on second thought, Lana realized it’d been some minutes since he malfunctioned. Lana wondered how difficult it was for him to hold back his true, machine-powered strength. A delicious fear settled in her stomach.
“Lana, I want you so badly,” he begged.
“Then have me,” she retorted, unthinking.
Gadget stopped abruptly and blinked. His expression went blank.
Oh no.
Wordlessly, Gadget unleashed his accessory arms. Like a broken reclining bed, Lana suddenly found herself lying flat, her back a couple feet from the floor. Two of the arms had already positioned themselves behind her back to keep her in that position. It happened so quickly that all she could do was yelp. When she looked up, the Inspector was somehow now standing in front of the couch, gazing down with something unreadable, something entirely focused on her face.
“Don’t worry, Lana,” Gadget asserted with unwavering confidence, “I have it all under control.”
And just like that, the once-careful cop was off-duty. A few cursory thrusts quickly turned into wild railing, his dialogue reduced to lascivious groans. Lana began to lose control of her own voice as he hit her most sensitive spot head-on, pounding it like some well-oiled sex machine.
Do I really have to kill this guy? Maybe I can tell Doctor Claw he died, and keep him locked up in my trailer for when I need —
Lana could barely finish the thought with all the currents of ecstasy being shot straight through her spine and into her brain, flooding it with absolutely nothing but static and desperation and more, more, more.
“I don't think I can go any faster than this,” Gadget chuckled through ragged breaths. For a second, Lana was terrified that her thought had made it out of her mouth, but the worry was quickly washed away by another wave blooming across her body, then another, another, bringing her agonizingly close to the edge.
“Gadget, I’m —”
“You’re gonna cum?” he asked, a bit too matter-of-factly. Lana’s response was a depraved moan in the shape of a ‘yes’.
Using his gadget arms, he pulled Lana upright. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, her animalistic instinct wanting him deeper, needing him deeper. Gadget rested his head on her shoulder, his hot, breathy moans overwhelming her right ear. Her own name was the only word she could make out.
Focusing on the way her name fell desperately from his mouth, she found herself falling over a peak that was terrifyingly high, coursing through her system with a white hot flash. She was screaming his name, her entire mind coming to a screeching halt.
Thump.
After a delayed moment, Lana found herself on Gadget’s lap, who had fallen into a sitting position on the lounge. Thankfully, his arms were wrapped around her tightly enough that she didn’t fall — though she wasn’t sure if she would’ve noticed.
It took Lana a moment to hear beyond her intense breathing that Gadget hadn’t made a single sound since she’d finished. She looked up at him. His eyes were closed.
“Gadget?” she called out. She knocked on the side of his head. Nothing. Snaps of static electricity popped from his ears.
Knowing that no one would ever see her, she laid her head against Gadget’s chest, resting her eyes, listening to his gears roll slowly.
❋❋❋
Some minutes later — although it could’ve been an hour — Lana exited her bathroom in a lavish pink bathrobe. Not only was it practical to wash her own sweat off, but the chill of the night had begun to settle into the trailer, and she wasn’t one for nudism anyway. She noticed Gadget leaning forward on the lounge, boxers on, twiddling his thumbs. He must have rebooted.
“Good morning,” Lana joked.
Gadget looked out the dark window. “You should get your watch checked,” he said as genuine advice.
Rolling her eyes, Lana sat beside him. She rummaged her hand — now gloveless — over the coffee table. She opened her trusty little gold-and-white box and slipped a cigarette into her long, golden holder.
“You have a lighter in there, don't you?” she asked.
Gadget flicked open his thumb to reveal a flame. He leaned in to light her cigarette, to which Lana took a drag.
“Smoking's bad for you, you know,” Gadget said.
“Sure,” Lana replied, reclining and blowing out another thin cloud. “But it feels great.”
She took a moment to reflect on the night’s events. She wondered if Gadget was doing the same. Maybe the short had wiped out his memory.
“Does that happen every time you have sex?” she asked.
Gadget looked away, his cheeks turning pink. I guess he does remember. “Ah, uh, well, not every time. Only when it’s... intense,” he explained. “I should really get them to fix that,” he mumbled to himself.
“No need,” Lana said, “it’s kind of cute.” Gadget looked at her with confusion, waiting for her to elaborate. She just leaned back and puffed.
After some awkward moments, Gadget moved closer to put his arm around her. Lana tried her hardest not to flinch, but her instincts were returning. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by another voice.
“Miss Lana?” called a German accent from outside the trailer. The door swung open with enough force to shake the floor, and there stood Lana’s director, looking as miserable and tense as ever. “We needed Gadget on set hours ago to elimin —”
As he finally processed the lewd scene in front of him, his expression completely dropped, then retreated to a disgusted grimace.
“Doctor Claw will be hearing about this,” he grumbled, slamming the door behind him.
“Doctor Claw? What did he say about Doctor Claw?” Gadget asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Inspector,” she insisted, scrambling, “He’s just talking about... our next movie... about Doctor Claw.” She felt like jumping out the window.
“Well that’s a silly idea for a movie,” Gadget said. “If they really want to make a movie about Doctor Claw, they should cast me as the hero, since I always win. Well, except for that time...”
Lana's mind trailed off from his sentence. She stared outside, the full moon casting a quiet, shimmering light across the movie set.
Except it wasn’t a movie set, it was a military base.
And what happened wasn’t sex, it was a mission to keep the cops distracted.
And it could never be anything more. It had to be the means to Gadget’s end.
Staring across the trailer, past the discarded clothes in front of the lounge, and the heels lined up at the door, Lana sighed, making a mental note to call Doctor Claw for a resupply of poison.