Oh, dear . . . I fear that I am a sick, *sick* little girl. *sigh* Ah, well - blame whoever cast Rupert Everett as Claw.
TITLE: "How Soon is Now"
AUTHOR: Cathryn (askewnislasher@yahoo.com)
DISTRIBUTION: Please to ask.
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: Gadget/Claw ( "Inspector Gadget." Not the cartoon, the movie; I personally find the mental images far more appealing when they involve Matthew Broderick (Gadget) and Rupert Everett (Claw). Especially Rupert Everett.)
SUMMARY: Claw takes it upon himself to discover how human Gadget actually is. In other words, a thinly disguised PWP.
SPOILERS: This does have some spoilers, but let's face it: This is not exactly the kind of movie that relies on suspense. Besides, the spoilers are pretty minor.
NOTES: This was inspired by the fact that Claw is the *slashiest* character I have ever seen in a kid's movie. As Queena put it, "Who can really resist slashing the maniacal, evil, gay villain with the decidedly innocent and celibate hero? Not you, of course."
MORE NOTES: This title, as many 80's children (or "Wedding Singer" soundtrack owners) will realize, was borrowed from that song of the same name, because of the lyrics "I am human and I need to be loved . . ." But you get to figure out who that applies to . . .
FEEDBACK: Bring it on. Even flames, if you must, 'cause I half-feel like I deserve it.
DEDICATED: To Katie, Queena, and Craww, 'cause they kept on me about this until it was finished. =)
DISCLAIMER: Gadget and Claw were created by Andy Heyward, Jean Chalopin, and Bruno Bianchi (yes, I'm copying off the back of the novelization). The little things I borrowed from the movie apparently belong to Kerry Ehrin, Zak Penn, and Audrey Wells. *whew* Damn - that is the most well-researched disclaimer I have ever written. And I bet nobody even read it.

How soon is now?

Cathryn

Inspector Gadget, the former John Brown, glared at his opponent.

"You're never going to get away with this."

Claw, also known as Sanford Scolex, rolled his eyes disdainfully. "Yes, yes, and I have you right where I want you, and all that jazz. Can we please cut through the cliches?"

"Sorry," Gadget apologized. "I've just always wanted to say . . . that . . ." His sentence trailed off as he took note of the way Claw was studying him. "What?" he asked. "Do I have something on my face? Is my bicarbonic defibrilator leaking?"

Claw ignored him, taking in for the first time the way his nemesis was bound, helpless, to the steel sheet.

"Are you all mechanical now?" he asked casually. "Or are there still parts that are human?"

Gadget considered the question seriously. "I'm not sure of the human to mechanics ratio . . . I have a calculator somewhere but I can't quite get to it right now."

Claw stepped closer. "But you are still human."

"I guess. I mean, I have to eat and stuff like everyone else."

Closer, now in Gadget's face. Purring: "*How* human?"

Gadget gave this question equal consideration. "Well . . . more human than Data, less human than Wesley Crusher," he finally offered.

Claw frowned. "Could you not mention Wesley Crusher? It's not terribly conducive to seduction, you know."

"You're right," Gadget agreed immediately. "Sorry . . . wait. Seduction?" he asked uneasily, beginning to put a couple little things together. Like, why Claw was looking at him like he was a steak dinner, for starters.

Claw laughed softly. "Finally putting together a few pennies, Johnny?" He tugged at Gadget's bow tie, undoing it, then tossed the black strip of cloth to the floor.

Gadget gulped convulsively. "Uh - I need that."

"Do you?" Claw replied absently. "Do you need this, too?" He removed Gadget's hat, placing it carelessly to one side. Any reply Gadget may have made was effectively smothered as Claw ran his one real hand slowly through the mechanical detective's dark brown hair. Claw paused, looking into wide, disbelievingly naive eyes. He smirked slightly. The spoiling of innocence - one of life's finest pleasures.

He trailed his fingertips down to Gadget's throat, lightly tracing the jugular. Suddenly, Gadget made a tiny, strangled sound as the fingers were replaced by lips that just barely touched his skin, teasing. Gadget held himself rigid, waiting, although for what he didn't know, as he scarcely understood what was happening just yet. When it finally did happen, it was far from what he had expected - startlingly sharp teeth suddenly clamped down possessively, almost hard enough to break the skin, but not quite. Before he could so much as yell, though, the teeth had been replaced by lips and tongue, delicately soothing the sore spot. Gadget moaned softly, surprising himself.

Inwardly, Claw glowed over the response - had it been unfavorable, he wouldn't have gone on. As either Claw or Sandy Scolex, he was many unpleasant things - thief, murderer, and so on - but rapist never had been and never would be added to that list. It was far more satisfying to use his skills to seduce and coax pleasure than he imagined it would be to simply overpower his victim. There was no challenge there, and he thrived on challenges.

He raised his head and found that, judging from the dazed look in Gadget's eyes, there would unfortunately be very little challenge this time. That didn't bother him - it had been far too long since his last lay for him to get picky now.

Claw raised the steel appendage he had named himself after and drew it lightly over Gadget's lips.

"I'd like to help you learn the mechanical/human ratio without that calculator of yours," he murmured, opening the trenchcoat and attempting to unbutton the shirt. Nothing doing without two hands - finally he simply crushed the buttons with his claw instead. Gadget gulped again at this maneuver, suddenly looking decidedly pale.

Claw ignored it and spread open the shirt, suddenly assuming a mock-clinical guise. He ran his hand over Gadget's chest, fingertips probing at the skin and pausing to lightly pinch a nipple, making Gadget jump. Then he raised his claw and knocked gently where Gadget's breastbone was. Or, should have been - he heard a metallic, hollow sound instead of the solid thumping one might expect.

"Mechanical," he reported, in a clipped, official tone to go with his expression. He lowered his head and flicked his tongue over the nipple, then blew on it, making it harden. Gadget shivered. "And yet, human," Claw continued, straightening back up. He played his fingertips over the firm abdomen, knocking and probing. He made no further verbal assessments, but his detached, yet intense expression was carefully maintained as he slowly undid the pants zipper.

Gadget made an odd, strangled sound. Claw's position didn't change, but his eyes flicked up sharply to study Gadget's face, looking, and listening, for a "no", or its equivalent. Gadget blinked at him stupidly, eyes dazed even more with lust, face somewhat flushed. Not a "no" to be found, Claw concluded after a moment, and returned his attention to what he was doing.

A roll of his eyes broke through the professional mock-up as he discovered a pair of Tweety Bird boxers. With a faint sigh, he slid them down. A wicked gleam came to his eyes as he found that Gadget was sporting a decidedly healthy-looking erection.

< Probably doesn't know what the hell to do with it, > Claw thought in amusement. < Perhaps I'll teach him. >

He twirled his fingers in a slow spiral from base to tip, toying with the sensitive head. Gadget whimpered, his hips attempting to buck forward, but partly thwarted by the steel band around his waist. Claw smiled ever so slightly and played for a moment longer before taking his hand away. Gadget groaned in disappointment. Claw suppressed a slight chuckle and assessed:

"Most definitely human." Gadget stared uncomprehendingly, having already forgotten the ostensible reason for the exploration.

Claw himself was all too human and beginning to feel it, particularly in his now-tight trousers. He dropped the research approach, letting his own lust begin to surface. He pressed himself firmly against Gadget's body, dark eyes blazing. He ran his hand up along Gadget's restrained arm, then paused, scowling at his claw. Stepping back, he said evenly,

"I'm starting to think this thing could become seriously unwieldy." Gadget nodded jerkily in agreement, watching as Claw walked over to his cache of different appendages.

"Let's see here . . ." he murmured, mentally going over the merits of each hand. Finally, he settled on the opera glove hand, running a finger approvingly over the silky material.

It was a quick matter to switch the claw for the hand, and it was Sandy Scolex who returned to his frustrated, anxious captive, flexing the fingers to test them before wrapping them firmly around the hard cock. Gadget actually yelped, body straining against his bonds. Scolex was too aroused to be particularly amused, trying to figure out how the hell he was going to rid Gadget of his pants without undoing the ankle clamps.

"Do you have some type of scissor or something in that repertoire of, well, gadgets of yours?" he asked. Gadget, beyond curiosity, merely replied,

"Go go Gadget scissors." A slim mechanical rod shot out of a little trap door on his abdomen. It held a pair of long, remarkably sharp scissors. Scolex filed the catchphrase away in his memory for future reference, grabbing the scissors.

They made short work of Gadget's pants, and within a minute Scolex was casually flinging aside several pieces of black material, ignoring Gadget's resigned sigh at the sight of his decimated clothing. Scolex replaced the scissors and the rod retracted itself neatly back into Gadget's body.

"How convenient," Scolex remarked. He pressed a button on the side of the table Gadget was strapped to, and it abruptly flipped backward, moving Gadget from "standing" to laying down in about two seconds. Scolex manipulated a few more buttons and levers; when he was finished, the band around Gadget's waist was gone and his legs had been raised into the air at a relatively comfortable angle. Gadget blinked at him rather owlishly, looking hopelessly confused, and Scolex realized that he genuinely had no idea what was going on.

"Amazing," Scolex muttered. "Where the hell were you raised, on Mars . . . in an Amish colony . . . in a plastic bubble?"

"North Dakota," Gadget replied, the concept of "rhetorical" sliding right past him as usual.

Scolex shook his head and fished a small tube of lubricant from his pocket before getting rid of his own pants, though they stayed in one piece. Gadget stared. Scolex ignored it, kneeling in front of him. His need was so intense that his hands, even the fake one, were trembling, and he was scarcely able to apply the lubricant to himself. He managed it after a moment, though, and knelt in front of Gadget, grabbing hold of his hips. Gadget squirmed, swallowing hard, and his eyes somehow managed to go even wider.

"This is going to hurt like hell at first," Scolex warned him casually. Gadget paled. Scolex adjusted his grip slightly, moving closer. He began to thrust in slowly. Gadget tensed and gritted his teeth, watching Scolex's face closely.

Once he was fully inside, Scolex reluctantly paused, grudgingly giving his profoundly startled quarry a moment to adjust. He found, as well, that he needed the moment to avoid an on-the-spot explosion - he'd screwed virgins before, but never one so ungivingly tight as Gadget was. < Must be the machinery, > he concluded before his brain decided that he needed to stop thinking and start doing.

He began to thrust, gradually building up speed and power, until he was pounding Gadget hard, sending him sliding unevenly up and down the slick metal table. Orgasm hit Scolex almost unexpectedly - it had been years since he'd come so soon. Or, for that matter, so hard - for the first time in a very long time, he actually had to pause to pull himself back together.

< That's it. I am officially going to get laid twice a week, > he thought as he pulled himself up, dressed, and swapped appendages once more, returning to his beloved claw.

Gadget watched numbly. He wasn't sure what Scolex had done that made his body feel almost painfully tight, but he did know two things: that he needed it fixed immediately, and, somehow, that Claw could fix it.

Claw, ever prepared, reached underneath his portable wet bar and pulled out a pair of pants and a shirt identical to the ones he had destroyed. It wouldn't do any good for his reputation for anyone to know what had happened, and an undressed Gadget would be your basic giveaway. He headed over to Gadget with the intention of knocking him out and redressing him right away, and discovered immediately a little fact that he'd overlooked before - Gadget hadn't come. Well, that was his problem - Claw didn't have time to do anything about it.

Then his eyes happened to meet Gadget's.

Gadget was looking at him silently, eyes wide, pleading, and quite puppy-doggish. Claw tensed, frowning stubbornly. Gadget continued to beg wordlessly. Claw glared. Gadget stared appealingly. Claw wavered.

"No wonder you're so popular," he muttered. "You really work those eyes, don't you? If I do it, will you stop looking at me?" A quick, eager nod. Claw sighed resignedly and set about using the controls on the table again, until Gadget had been returned to an upright and restrained position. Another exasperated sigh, with a quick, menacing glare for good measure, and Claw knelt, rapidly and expertly deep throating Gadget. A few seconds later, he was thanking himself for replacing the waist band as Gadget's hips bucked so hard that, without the restraints, Claw would have choked.

Gadget, having exactly no staying power, came within a minute. He didn't know any of this, however - what he knew was that Claw had made him explode again, but it felt so good that it was undoubtedly worth it.

Claw stood with a grimace, wiping his mouth. He hated giving blow jobs, but any other method would have been too messy. He headed with great haste for his bar, pouring himself a generous measure of cognac. He drank it down quickly, then had another. He swallowed this with equal speed before something occurred to him:

Why hadn't he just knocked Gadget out anyway?

THE END