Ratings Advisory: The Earth Media Content Group has determined that this story can only be read by people above the age of 18. It contains subjects and situations that are suitable only for mature audiences. Parents with underaged children will need to activate their content-advisory programs now.

[Prologue]

Quinn hated deadlines. She and Rose were tossing a foam ball back and forth across the writing room. The producers of the syndicated series Boobs in Blue wanted a killer story to film for the first quarter 'sweeps week'. They asked the originators of the series to come up with this story. Now it was only nine days to the deadline or else the project would go to another writers' hands. We could be spending our time writing up the next comic, but noooooooo. I just had to take this particular project. Quinn gave the ball an extra-hard squeeze before throwing it back at Rose.
    "Has the Muse returned yet," she asked as the ball flew back at Quinn.
    "No, not even a call." Quinn held the ball and stared at it, willing it to provide an answer. It was quite soft and malleable. Neurons fired in her brain, synapses made connects, and the figurative light bulb appeared over her head.
    "OK, I think I got it. I'll get it going, throw the ball to you, you add some more, throw it back to me, and so on and so forth."
    "Sounds like a plan. Go for it."

[Intro begins: a montage of clips from previous episodes, the theme music plays, including the time-honored 'wakacha-wakacha-wakacha' rhythm. Series' title morphs onto the screen. Then the opening scene starts, incidental music rolls, and title of the episode is displayed. The MA rating is displayed in the lower right corner (MA - this show can only be seen by mature people above the age of 21. Definitely not for children).]
 

1

Linda and Lucy Halbrook, 17 year-old twin sisters and direct heirs to the George Halbrook Investments empire, were still springy after completing their tennis practice at the health club. Their bodyguards, tall, thick, and silent, carefully watched their much smaller charges. Kidnaping a rich family's kids still happened, but rarely worked unless it was an inside job. It wasn't an inside job this time. A nondescript delivery van came to a sudden halt. The side door opened and seven sniper rifles fired as one. The five bodyguards dropped dead, their heads in bloody ruins. The two girls were hit by tranquilizer darts and collapsed. Two fleet, black-clad men grabbed the girls and placed them in the van. The vehicle sped away, its power plant pushed to the max.

Lynnae Wilcox grunted as she removed the protective vest. Her large bust was again soaked with perspiration. At times she wished she had a smaller chest, but decided not to tamper with the gift that God and Nature gave her. At least her partner, June Parlor, had the same result. Her chest was even larger and really soaked. After a short shower the two got dressed in street clothes and headed for Chief Talbert's office. As usual, he hadn't indicated what the subject was going to be. As the duo entered the office they saw there was company. A distinguished old man, looking rather good for his age, was sitting in a chair across from the Chief's desk. Chief Talbert was smoking his pipe, motioned the duo to grab a seat. The head of the missing persons department, Valerie Kou, was going over some work on her minicomp.
    "Glad to have you two back so soon. I understand that Rico's team got the drug gang before yours did. Too bad; it would've been your third gang bust in as many weeks."
    "Luck of the draw, Chief. May I assume that this isn't some consolation speech you had prepared?" Trust June to speak first.
    "No, June. I need some footwork out of you and Lynnae." Talbert waved a hand to the old gentleman. "This is George Halbrook, mega-investor. You two heard about the kidnaping of his two granddaughters?" The two cops nodded in reply. "Good. Valerie here will fill you in more completely." The Chief sat down and listened to Val's report. At the end it was Lynnae who spoke first, this time to Mr Halbrook.
    "Mr Halbrook, let me first say that I sympathize in your loss of your grandchildren. But you may already know that the chances of getting them back go down dramatically after the first week. It's been 25 days now and I honestly don't see them coming back."
    Mr Halbrook should've had a stroke after that, but his face was set in granite. "I appreciate that you didn't lace your speech with fancy and soft words, Ms Lynnae. However I do feel that you and your partners' talents and contacts may be useful in the investigation."
    "He has a point." Chief Talbert tapped out his pipe and returned it to his desk drawer. "If it was a regular kidnap we would've received a ransom note by now. I want you two to use your mob contacts to get any dirt on this case."
    June bobbed her head and turned to Mr Halbrook. "A mob kidnap would've been a quiet affair and done with in under a week. If it was a mob job what did you do to warrant such attention?"
    The old man cleared his throat. "I believe it occurred when I turned down an offer to launder some money of theirs. I reported it to the police. I guess they didn't like that and decided to punish me. They didn't tell me in so many words but I took the hint. Those bodyguards came from my staff, but in the end it didn't matter. They couldn't get to me but instead got my grandkids."
    "That's the mob for you: always goes for the easy target. Too bad it was them." June was looking at a hologram of the two teens. They were dressed in the same tennis clothes in which they were wearing when kidnaped. They were shapely and healthy, their hair down to the shoulders and full of body.
    "Well, we won't find them here, will we? Permission to leave, Chief?" Lynnae and June stood up.
    "Go ahead, but on your way, collect Jarvis. He'll be your backup for this one." With that the duo left and headed for Investigations.

Paul Jarvis was a decent, no-nonsense cop. He noticed that Wilcox and Parlor were headed his way and he got up to join them. Wilcox was 155 cm tall, 44 kilos, had platinum blonde hair and green eyes. Parlor was 23 cm taller, 16 kilos heavier, and had dark brown hair to go with her blue eyes. Then there was that part of the anatomy the two officers had in common. He accepted the fact that the two women had quite large breasts and left it at that. Others, though, had to learn the hard way not to cop a feel or pat their butts. After checking out an unmarked police vehicle, the trio worked their way into New Darwin's oldest and seediest part of town. The aircar came to a stop in front a nondescript bar.
    "Wait here, Paul," June said as the two women got out of the aircar, "our man inside doesn't like strangers. Just stay by the car and look mean." Adjusting their jackets, the duo entered.
    Great, I feel like a father watching over his little girls, Paul noted to himself. He let his eyes work down the building faces along the street. There was a small municipal park only two blocks away. It was empty except for a group of female rollerbladers. He saw that they were heading up the street, all six of them. The rollerbladers were all wearing bikinis, each a different primary color. Like Lynnae and June they were also exceptionally well-endowed. The bikini tops barely covered the front of the breasts and the nipples were standing out like eyes. They also wore small backpacks. One of them turned around, showing that she had a thong, the strip disappearing into the cleft of her small, cute bottom. One by one they passed, each blowing a kiss at him. Even with his years on the force he couldn't help but admire them as they went by. The last one, in the blue suit, ran into him. Both fell to the pavement, her breasts covering his face. As he tried to get up he heard a small hiss like that of a hypo and blacked out.

The bartender didn't prove to be much help. Oh, there was the usual scuttlebutt about a weapons shipment and the like. That information will be useful to the vice squad but certainly didn't help on the current case. Slipping the bartender a bill, the duo came outside. To their surprise they saw Paul gagged and bound, his billfold on his lap. He only kept his badge, his driver's license, and petty cash in it. The cash was gone, but that was only a minor inconvenience. Apparently whoever robbed him also found time to spray graffiti on the aircar. It was in cursive, saying 'unmarked police car' on both sides of the vehicle. Freeing Paul, June could only say, "Boy, we can't leave you alone for ten minutes without you being bound and robbed. Who was it?"
    Paul described the rollerbladers in detail, and the duo only giggled in reply. "Gee, at least they didn't strip you. That would've been really inconvenient," Lynnae digged as the three entered the aircar and headed for their next contact. Paul could only swallow his pride and hope that nothing will happen at the next stop.
 

2

The Bass Sea had whitecaps as the scene shifted to a house near the shoreline. It was a rather large, four-story vacation house with huge open areas on each level. On the third level there was a jacuzzi and ping-pong table. The fourth level had a long observation deck. Solar panels occupied the slanting roofs. Overall it was a very expensive house, but it was chump change compared to the spending power a top mobster can wield. Carlos Jackson smiled as he went upstairs to the third floor. He was a made man, part of the inner circle of the mob, and he was eager to see his 'guests'. Mr Halbrook was very foolish to back out on them at this late date. Taking his grandchildren would make him come around, eventually. He approached the room they were being held in. The two guards, built like bricks and just as silent, opened the door for him. Despite his years in the mob his heartbeat rose a tiny fraction when he saw the twins and what his doctor had done to them.
    Linda was looking out of the window, facing the expanse of the Bass Sea. It was the size of Lake Michigan on Earth. Then she regarded her � and her sister's � new size. Over three weeks ago she and Lucy had been kidnaped by a group of men dressed in black clothing. They bound and gagged the twins and injected them with a knock-out drug. It was many hours later that they awoke in this room. It was quite opulent, displaying the vast wealth their captors must have held. In this situation the twins knew that it was likely they would be ransomed. Their captors, however, remained silent for a whole week. Then they came into the room; six tall brutes and a slightly shorter man. All were dressed in hideously expensive business suits. The short one said that the twins' grandfather refused to negotiate. The twins were aware that this would happen, but hearing it didn't made it any less real. Sensing their fear, the man said that the twins will be punished for their grandfather's recalcitrant attitude. The six other men held the twins down while the short one applied a hypo to each girl. They demanded to know what was injected into them, but the short man only smiled and left.
    It was seventeen days later and Linda touched her massive bust. Each breast was at least 45 centimeters across... and still growing. The man had injected them with a particularly fast set of nanites and fed the twins a sinfully fat-rich diet. The breasts were easily growing over 2.5 centimeters a day. They refused to wear the clothes the men gave them, preferring to kept their tennis wear on. However, they had to remove their shirts after the first few days as their breasts were almost tearing them at the seams. They only changed their panties each day, but their skirts were now showing crinkles and dust streaks. They walked barefoot now as their busts made it very difficult to put shoes on. The twins didn't know how much bigger they'll get, but they hoped their growth would stop soon. Otherwise their hearts would explode from the exertion required to pump blood into their expanding boobs. She heard the door open and a man in a simple suit entered.
    Jackson looked at Linda. The only way to tell the twins apart was their skirts. Linda had blue trim to her skirt while Lucy had red. Lucy got out of her chair with some difficulty and spoke. "I take it that grandfather still refuses to negotiate? I suppose this means that you'll make our boobs even bigger?"
    "On the last point your chests will get larger anyway; about three times their current size if I remember correctly." Jackson smiled devilishly as the twins looked at themselves, visualizing the eventual end product. "As for your grandfather he still won't talk. Foolish of him, considering what the mob did for him over the years."
    Linda's chest jiggled as she threw contempt at Jackson's face. "That's a bullshit lie! Granddad would never consort with the mob. He has no need of their money or influence."
    "My, such bad language from the mouth of babes. You, dear, simply don't know. How do you think that your granddaddy made his money in the first place? Selling lemonade? No, No, No. He was a struggling investor wishing for an edge. We gave him one and now his company is very rich indeed."
    Lucy added her protest. "That can't be! Your kind of scum never showed up at our place!"
    Jackson waved a finger at Lucy's bust. "Tisk, tisk, girly. He's been working for us for the last forty-five years. In fact, he really likes to see us and experience our 'appreciation'." His smile turned into seductiveness and Lucy recoiled in fear. "You see, dear, your granddad developed a vice that only we in the mob could provide. I imaged that he missed his wife very much and longed for the comfort of her bosom. We gladly provided. For the last forty years, on every other Saturday night, he used women who were much more endowed than you as living pillows."
    That was more than Linda could stand. "Take that back, you asshole!!" She ran towards him, but lost her balance and fell on her chest. She yelped in pain as she got up, massaging the bruises on her massiveness.
    "Oh, do be careful, dear. I don't want you to suffer permanent damage. Not yet, at least. I fear your grandfather will not see the light. He'll have to work for us for the next few years, at least. By that time the two of you will have some selective plastic surgery, mainly to facial features. Also your memories will be written over with a new set. Who knows, maybe you'll end up as one of his pillows."
    That really made Lucy mad. She tried to punch him, but her breasts interfered. Jackson easily grabbed her fists and pushed her onto the bed. She gasped as Jackson clutched a handful of breast and squeezed. Instead of pleasure Lucy felt hatred instead. A hatred to kill Jackson as painfully as possible.
    Jackson stepped back and adjusted his tie. "Resist while you can, girls. That makes you more desirable." He ignored the daggers that the twins were willing into him. "You have the freedom of this level. The forecast for the next week is favorable for sunbathing. I would like to see your new-found largeness tanned by the time you reach your final size. Good day." With that Jackson left the twins in silent shock.

Linda saw that Lucy was visibly shaking and on the verge of tears. She carefully walked over and hugged her as much as their breasts would allow. "Don't worry, Lucy. That shit only said those things to break our will."
   "What if it's true, sister? I don't want to be a stupid pawn in a mob dispute!" Lucy let go with a sob and Linda held hers own tears back, trying to be strong for the both of them.
   "I'm only going to let you cry this once, OK? From now on I want you to think that granddad will get us out of here. He hasn't been in the business that long without getting a few favors along the way. You'll see. Can you hold your tears until we're rescued? OK?"
   Lucy stopped her sobbing and rested her head on her sister's shoulder and bust. Linda patted Lucy's back and wished that she believed her own words.
 

3

Paul was starting to feel sick. The three cops were having a late lunch at an outdoor cafe. Lynnae and June were wolfing down their fourth hot-dog each and showing no signs of slowing down. As Paul nursed his soda water he remembered what had happened earlier in the day. After the incident outside the bar the trio went next to an outdoor produce market. While the cops were talking to a man in the know on the mob there was an ugly altercation occurring a few stalls down. Paul decided to intercede but his concern was repaid with a tomato in the face. Lynnae and June showed up and attempted to gain control of the situation. The troublemaker made lewd comments about the cops' body proportions and told them what they could do with themselves. Needless to say they weren't happy. The ensuing fight left twelve men hospitalized and demolished a good part of the vegetable section.
   Paul watched in awe as the duo demolished the opposition. Their martial arts skill was only exceeded by the late Jackie Chan, and that was saying a lot. Paul would never get into a food fight with those two! He also had the pleasure � or perhaps dubious pleasure � of seeing Lynnae's famous 'bust-butt' bringing down one man. He certainly went down happy! After filling the paperwork the trio decided to have lunch. Paul's stomach protested again and he excused himself to get to the toilet.
   "I'm bored," Lynnae observed.
   "So who's left?" June polished off her last 'dog and was digging in the sauerkraut.
   "I don't believe the others will be of much help. We were put on the case too late."
   "So true, but there's still one person left."
   "I haven't had a shine in months. Sammy Shineboy?"
   "Who else?" June wiped her mouth with a napkin, left a generous tip, and waited for Paul to return. He looked a little flushed, and his face was sweaty.
   "I'll never eat undercooked sausage again." The memory of the taste caused him to dry heave.
   Lynnae patted him on the back. "Buck up, trooper. We're going to see one last ear on the street. If he doesn't know then we might as well shoot some pool in the Seabrook section."
   In no mood to argue Paul followed the duo back to the aircar, still adorned with the graffiti. At least the car's a/c was still working.

Sammy Shineboy, an 82 year-old shoe shiner, was doing some final buffing to Paul's shoes. One would have thought that in the 25th century such an occupation would have disappeared. But with some things people would rather have the personal touch than a machine. Secrets that would otherwise end up in the grave are often spoken in the presence of a lowly worker, and shineboys were no exception. Sammy had the best ear on the street, and the money he gained from his attentiveness could easily earn him a comfortable retirement. He still loved his work, and every day for the last 70 years he had worked at least four hours a day. Listening and remembering.
   "All done, Sir. That'll be 4 bills." Paul looked at his shoes and heels. It was quite a professional job and he gave 10 bills instead. "You're a generous man. Thank you, Sir." Paul stepped down and Lynnae sat in his place. Halfway through her shine, she spoke.
   "Pity about the Halbrook Twins. I guess they won't be seen again," Lynnae stated. Sammy kept his head down, giving the illusion that he was absorbed in his work.
   "I wouldn't say that, milady. If they were dead then their bodies would've been found in Alberry Harbor."
   The not-so-subtle play of words continued. "I agree that such pretty little girls like that wouldn't be wasted so casually. How did you come to that conclusion?"
   He raised his head, eyes twinkling. "Oh, I'm sure that it would be nothing that fifty-b can't cure. I need to get a new cap for my bald little head."
   Lynnae reached into her belt pouch and produced the money. Sammy gratefully took it and placed it in his belt. "Tell me what you know of Mr Halbrook." Lynnae detailed what she knew and by the end Sammy was shaking his head.
   "With all the informants and ears like me you cops should've known that Halbrook is in on the mob." Lynnae wanted to argue that but Sammy pressed on. "He's been their money cleaner for the last forty-five years. You remember about fifteen years ago when his son and son�s wife died in that boat accident?" Lynnae nodded in response. "It wasn't an accident. Halbrook wanted to get out, but the mob iced that couple and put the big scare on him real bad. He was afraid for his granddaughters. He clammed up real tight."
   Lynnae felt her face flush with anger. Killing people so casually, all to keep a man in line just to make dirty money clean! Sammy saw that face and quickly finished his work. "All done, milady." Lynnae stood up and tried to look at her shoes. As his trademark Sammy didn't invest in a foot mirror and her large bust prevented from seeing her feet directly.
   "As usual, I have to take your word for it. Thank you." With that she planted a soft kiss on the old man's head. His faced warmed up nicely. As she and her two fellow cops turned to leave, Sammy cleared his throat. They all turned to face him.
   "I know that in my line of work one should not take sides, but I'll make an exception this time. Those two young ladies deserve to live out their lives. Do what you need to get them out."
   June thought such words coming from someone like Sammy should've been hollow and melodramatic. But he was sincere in his request. "Oh Sammy! I knew there was a romantic in that jaded heart of yours. If we can't pull it off then no one can."
   After that the trio entered the still-marked car and headed for one of New Darwin's satellite cities. Paul knew were they were going but said it out loud anyway. "We're going to see Mr Halbrook now, right?"
    Lynnae didn't turn her head when she answered. "Let's just say he has a lot of explaining to do."
 

4

Mr Halbrook tried to keep his face clear of emotion. He bit his tongue hard when he saw the photo one of Jackson's flunkies had brought with him. It was his granddaughters, apparently still intact and healthy... except for their breasts. They looked like they had swallowed partially inflated beach balls. His little girls had already developed into full womanhood, but now those obscenely large breasts made them a gross parody of the female form.
   I should be the one to say obscene! For the last forty years I've used women bigger than my girls to serve as my pillows. Now they're using that vice against me, twisting my guts out. I've been such a fool. The flunky's noncommittal face just made it all the worse, driving in the knife with even more force into his soul. He got Mr Halbrooks' attention and spoke.
   "As you see they're still alive and well, but for them to continue to do so you'll have to keep working for us. Call off the investigation and consider them dead. Only your continued cooperation will ensure that they live."
   "As what? Like the pillow women I used all those years?"
   "I wouldn't say the word 'used'. It was more like therapy for you to cope with the loss of your wife. If you cause us trouble in the near future they'll develop to the point where they will be used as such... objects." Only now did that voice have a condescending tone.
   I'm dead. No matter what I do they'll win in the end. When I'm gone they'll have a willing stooge like me take over. Halbrook finished his brutal assessment of himself. He looked into that flunky's eyes and spun his remaining dignity into his answer. "Tell Mr. Jackson that he can count on my full cooperation."

June noticed that the limousine in the driveway was odd. Even in a relatively secure satellite city like Canberra it would be locked up in the garage. There were two men pacing around that vehicle, keeping everything under surveillance.
   "I'm afraid this calls for Plan B, Paul." June and Lynnae checked their guns and placed them within easy reach of their hands.
  "What's Plan B?" He was sure what it was, and Lynnae clarified for him.
  "It's the old motto of 'It's easier to get forgiveness than permission'. Don't worry, Paul, we'll just knock them out silly. You distract them while we get into position." With that the two officers disappeared into the night, leaving Paul to fend for himself. He improvised on the fly, and a few minutes later he got out of the vehicle and approached the men. He felt like this scene came out of a 20th century cinematic cop film, and Lynnae and June were the current incarnations of.... who? Dirty Larry? He committed himself and tried to remember to be sincere.
   The two men turned to face the nondescript figure approaching them. When it was four meters away it stopped and spoke in an earnest voice. "Excuse me, but do you have the time?" Before they could reply the female duo jumped out and landed two perfect blows to the back of the men's heads. They fell like slabs of meat. They were quickly moved and immobilized.
   "Do you write your own material?" June joked as she put the finishing touches to the man she was tying up.
   "With that robust support I believe I can attack the new day." Paul was surprised that he said that. Damn, their attitude must be rubbing off on me. Think pure thoughts.
   "Now we have to get the mob's messenger boy when he leaves." With June outside Lynnae and Paul waited in the limo. They didn't have to wait long. The flunky left the house and was a little annoyed to find his men already in the car. He would have to stress to them the need to be more diligent in their work. The door opened and as he entered, a gun was shoved in his chest. A rather well-endowed woman was holding that gun.
   "It's amazing that such a beautiful car can be deadly as well. Tell me what I want to know, message boy." Before the flunky could react June was behind him, grabbing his arms and pressing her breasts into his back. Faced with two conflicting feelings, probable death and lustful pleasure, he couldn't help but talk. After he had spilled his guts, June landed a soft but effective blow to his head, knocking him unconscious. "Go ahead and talk to Halbrook. I'll get Sleeping Beauty here taken care of."

A few minutes later, Halbrook's condemnation of himself was interrupted by a knock at the door. I bet that man left his cigar or something, just another petty reminder that they own me totally. He was quite surprised that Officer Parlor was at the door. There was no time for him to speak as June pushed him inside and closed the door.
   "Well, guess what we found out about you, Mr Money Washer." June's tone was downright harsh. "Your mob ties have landed you in trouble big time. Myself and my partners will be leaving shortly to rescue your grandkids." Halbrook looked relieved, but June's now tense face made that feeling short-lived.
   "There will be no back-up. It was a stroke of luck that the mob sent a flunky to dictate terms to you. We'll hopefully get to the place where they�re holding them and spring �em. And don't even begin to thank us for trying. It's weak people like you that allow the mob to survive, let alone prosper."
   Halbrook knew she was right. These officers will be risking their lives to save the grandkids of a man who sold himself out. But he had to make a statement. "Officer Parlor, I know you don't give a damn about what I'm saying now. I only hope that Linda and Lucy can find it in their hearts to forgive me. Otherwise I'm just a silly old fool that deserves everything he gets."
   June was taken aback by Halbrook's words. He avoided the easy excuses and took his shame head-on. She found it hard to reply and instead just shook his hand and left. By this time Paul and Lynnae had moved the flunky and his men into the limo's ample trunk and applied a sedative from the limo's dispensary to each of them.
   Lynnae chimed in with glee, "The place is a secluded vacation house on the shore of the Bass Sea. This limos' computer has the ID code to let us through the gate and into the garage. After that we're on our own."
   June nodded in reply and activated the limo's drive system. At first backing out slowly into the street, June gradually accelerated the limo to a considerable speed. "Of course you'll want to stop by the apartment and pick up some stuff."
   Lynnae winked at Paul as she removed her gun and ejected the clip. "Yep. Mob guards typically have dermal armor applied to them. It's strong enough to turn a blade, but not 11 millimeter armor-piercing slugs. Plus a suit of body armor can't hurt."
   Paul looked glassy eyed through the passenger window. Great, I'm stuck with two Dirty Larrys.
 

5

Jackson was sipping an iced scotch as he lounged in his expensive pajamas on his much more expensive bed. He was viewing a wall screen, seeing an image from a hidden camera in the Twins' bedroom. Seeing the sight of two top-heavy girls would've made him aroused, but at his age and experience he just saw two future toys for his associates. In a few days I'd better get them to a zero-gee room, probably one of the space stations. Their hearts should hold for the next five weeks when their breasts stop growing. Then the doctors will install those micropumps to assist the heart in pumping blood to those massive orbs. Jackson finished his drink and picked up a newsboard. Activating it he went to the stock market section. Seeing some movement in his favor he placed a call to his investment firm. All the while the twins were sleeping soundly on the screen.

This is stupid, Paul thought, no, scratch that. This is INTENSELY stupid. He looked at the duo. They still had their jackets but he knew they had on thin but effective bullet-proof body suits. Paul wasn't so well protected but at least he had a protective vest and shin guards. As for firepower they might as well be hunting for bushbear, a native predator on Outback. The cops had 11 mm guns that fired rocket-boosted slugs. Not even dermal armor could stop something that powerful. With their belt pouches, some grenades, computer-assisted visors and backpacks the women just might as well have stepped off a movie set.
   How does the script go? First we get onto the grounds, try to sneak through the house, grab the girls, then try to escape. Of course there will be gratuitous violence. Mustn't forget the violence. Paul rechecked his gun. It would be used soon enough. The limo passed the small gatehouse without even slowing. The gate swung open and the luxury car headed right for the open-air garage. A man came into view and headed for the passenger door. Lynnae kneaded her fingers, waiting. The door opened and the unfortunate greeter got a fist to the throat. As he gagged Lynnae jumped on him and knocked him out for good.
   The other two cops got out and took in the situation. There was a door into the house, probably a gathering area for mob underlings and the like. June turned to Paul. He couldn't see her eyes but knew they were set hard. "Seeing that you're not as well equipped as us, Paul (thank God for that, he thought), you stay here and keep the limo ready."
   "You have no argument from me. Get going." With that the duo went inside. It was only four minutes later that the shots began. Poor bastards, they really don't know what's killing them.

Jackson's attention to his stock report was interrupted by several loud gunshots. What the fuck is that! Tony better have an answer! Jackson activated his communicator and tried to raise Tony, his security chief. There was no reply. Damnation. Seems that even I can't buy good help these days. The mob boss placed a robe around himself and picked up a particle gun. He checked its charge level and walked out the room. He didn't even notice that the twins were no longer on the screen.

Linda and Lucy were startled by the gunfire. They jumped up as much as their exaggerated bosoms would allow. There were several more shots and the two could only think of one reason for that. "It's a rescue, Lucy. See, I told you that granddad wouldn't abandon us!"
   "That's all the well and good, sis, but we're still here. What if those jerks out the door take us away?"
   Linda's face then changed to that of a rock. "We'll just have to help our rescuers in saving ourselves. Get that marble statuette ready." Lucy picked up the statuette and held it like a war club. "I'm glad that granddad made us take all those combat classes." It was a minute later that a guard entered, seeing one of the girls standing there.
   "Where's your sister?" The guard didn't get a reply as Lucy smashed his head in with that statuette. The second guard entered; was greeted by a flying kick to the chest and fell down. An angry foot smashed his throat flat and he died. The twins were now shaking from the adrenaline rush and fear.
   "Where to now, Linda?" The other sister looked around and eyed the door leading outside to the open third-level deck. "We go outside."

June ejected her first clip and slapped in a fresh one. Finding the security cubicle was easy enough. The computer visor easily saw the micro-cables and power hook-ups that all led to the small room. The man on duty didn't even had the chance to wake up before an 11 mm slug made him sleep forever. Lynnae worked the console while June took care of anyone who might come looking for the source of the noise. Five more mob goons fell to her fire, their torsos exploding in the back in a shower of gore.
   "Found them," Lynnae sang in victory, "they're outside on the third level patio deck." Lynnae pulled her visor over her eyes and emptied her clip into the control panel, rendering it useless. "Now those goons will have to use their own eyes. And if they see us they're dead." The two left the cubicle and sprinted up the central stairwell. Goons still in their pajamas or even less were spilling out of their rooms, to be shot down in mid-stride. At the third floor a goon was bum-rushing them. Out of ammo for now Lynnae decided to use her infamous 'bust-butt'. The goon saw a small, top-heavy woman wearing a skin-tight black body suit that highlighted all of her features running towards him, chest first. He opened his arms, wanting to wrestle her to the floor. It was not to be. Lynnae's bust pushed the lech back and over the railing. He fell down the three floors and his neck broke quite loudly.

Jackson was quite upset to see so many of his men dead, and quite messily at that. He saw that the security booth and Tony were in ruins. Deciding that there wasn't much he could there he took the secret elevator to the fourth floor observation deck to see what was happening outside.

The twins were pacing the third floor deck, shivering slightly in the cool air of the night. They tried to climb down the side of the house but their breasts made that impossible to do. "Great. If our busts were bigger we could've floated down," Linda observed. The twins then headed back to the door, only to be intercepted by two black-clad figures. They almost screamed but one of the figures spoke. "I'm Lynnae Wilcox, officer, New Darwin Police." Those were the sweetest words Linda and Lucy had ever heard. The two officers took off their jackets and gave them to the shivering girls. "June here will help you to the limo." June produced a fine wire that puffed out to a five-millimeter thickness. She tied it to a handrail and abseiled down the side. The twins followed as best they could. Lynnae heard gunshots coming from the other side of the house. She fired a small grappling hook towards the railing on the fourth level observation deck. It caught and she carefully but quickly pulled herself up.
 

6

I suppose that these were the odds that Dirty Larry always faced: outnumbered. Paul fired his gun and ducked back behind a sports car in the garage. The return fire ruined the hood of that vehicle. Everything was OK until apparently the guards outside heard the shots and decided to investigate. Paul managed to bag two of them, but there were at least six more. Isn't it about now that I stand up and waste them or a last-minute rescue takes place? His thoughts were answered as two of the goons yelped as they were cut down by shots coming from above. It was Lynnae, firing from the observation deck. The goons were now so occupied that they didn't see June enter the garage with the twins in tow. She hustled them into the limo and went to Paul's aid.
   Now caught in a cross fire, the goons tried to escape but Lynnae cut them down. June bounded out into the yard and spoke into her mic. "Good job, Lyn. Get your butt down here fast before more goons show up." Lynnae grunted a reply and headed for the stairs. She didn't hear the elevator door open behind her or the man activating his gun. His shot was a complete surprise as it hit her backside and ruined her backpack.
   "Lyn!!" June heard her friend's cry of pain but just then a fresh crop of goons showed up and opened fire. The twins were safe in the heavily armored limo, the missed shots harmlessly bouncing off the thick exterior. Then a second group of goons came rushing in from the gatehouse. Paul made them grab ground with an explosive grenade, but that still left five fresh goons firing at the two cops.

Lynnae rolled painfully on to her side and moaned. The shot expended most of its energy on the items in her backpack, melting and fusing them into an glob of plastic. Jackson took a few steps closer and aimed right at Lynnae's unprotected face.
    "Well, well. It's Wonder Bitch to the rescue, isn't it? I've had enough of your stupid heroics. Now you'll die like the bitch you are!"
   Lynnae didn't hide her disdain in her reply. "If you're quite through citing your position paper can you please get it over with?"
   "I'm only too happy to oblige." Jackson slowly closed his finger on the trigger.
   Paul took an incredibly stupid risk. He stood up and ran for the prone men on the ground, firing as he went. The goons tried to get up but fell down in death instead. He slapped in a fresh clip and looked at the fourth floor deck. He saw Lynnae, prone and not moving. A man in a robe was aiming a gun at her. There was no time.
   "Lynnae!!" Paul bellowed out as he shot at the robed figure. The man staggered as the 11 mm slug ripped off the arm at the elbow. He staggered to the other side of the platform and toppled over. The solar panels on the roof were virtually frictionless and Jackson screamed as he flew off the roof. The goons that were firing at June looked up at the source of the scream. Acting out of instinct instead of brains they emptied their clips into the flying man.
   Jackson, the mob boss, was now Jackson, the human skeet. If dental records were the only means of identification then the mass of flesh that hit the ground couldn't have been identified. The goons only then began to think of what they did. June took their inaction and shot them down to the man. "Paul, get the car ready! I'll get Lyn!" June bounded up the stairs and reached her still-prone friend. Picking her up gently she carried her back to the limo. A minute later the cops and their rescued women were speeding back to New Darwin at top speed.

Lynnae carefully moved an additional pillow behind her and lay back. There was a stab of pain but it quickly passed as the pillows supported her body. She had guests in her hospital room. June, Paul, Chief Talbert, and Linda (or was it Lucy) were there to visit and generally bug her about being a heroine.
   There was the usual flak about 'excessive police force' in the press. That hardly mattered to Mr Halbrook. In addition to what Jackson told the twins, Mr Halbrook also explained what had really happened to their parents. Linda and Lucy accepted that and forgave their grandfather. June was there when it happened and the crying and hugging convinced her that they would still be a family.
   Lynnae looked at the girl's still enlarged bust. The gown she was wearing was extra large so it could at least reach her knees. As always in the case of rapid enlargement it would take the new nanites more than three times as long to shrink the breasts down to normal size. Lynnae was looking at three more days in the hospital herself. The particle blast did some damage to her back and the vertebrae of her spine. The doctors were still running tests to make sure she didn't suffer nerve damage. That brought up another subject.
   "Oh, the doctor in charge was also asking if I would like to have a breast reduction."
   June raised an eyebrow. "Reduction. Whatever for?"
   "He thought the breasts I have now are too big for my frame and was concerned for the state of my back muscles. I told him no. I can always get them reduced later so they won't sag past my knees when I'm 90."
   "If you live that long, Lyn," Talbert added in, "and at the rate you two are going your chances of even reaching 50 are slim. That's why the two of you are on involuntary leave for the next two weeks. Blame it on the people upstairs."
   Lucy stepped forward (her nametag was now visible to Lynnae). "My granddad and my sister would like to have you two as our guests. We have a secure vacation house at Belmont Park. It has a large pool, a tennis court, a masseur..."
   "Did you say masseur? Count me in!" June was rubbing her hands in glee.
   "Boy, it doesn't take much to get you excited, does it June?" Lynnae gladly took June's rueful look in stride. "I'm game too. Thank you, Lucy." The girl hugged her rescuers and left. Talbert just shook their hands and left, muttering under his breath about all the extra paperwork he had to do because of them. Paul remained, trying to make up his mind on what to say. June solved that part by shaking his hand and patting him on the shoulder. Lynnae had something else in mind.
   When she motioned him to come over, he was surprised when she grabbed his arm and pulled. She planted a kiss on his lips and then pushed his head to her breasts. A second later she let go, and a now bewildered Paul stood up. "That was for saving my precious backside and they way you did it, Mr Hero. That was my extra-special thank you and I don't give it to just anyone. Don't even think of telling anyone else. I'll just deny it." Paul's face was still a little red as he left. June walked over and looked down on her short partner.
   "Gee! If he saved you while you were practically naked would you take him to bed to 'thank' him?" June got a pillow to the face for her reply.

[End Credits. Still shots from the episode are shown. Wakacha-wakacha-wakacha plays. Credits end with the duo in an action pose. Fade to black...]

[Epilogue]

Quinn and Rose were quite satisfied with the end product. There was action, breasts, violence, ample women, gratuitous gun play, gratuitous breasts, and humor. All that was needed for a killer sweeps episode. The screenwriters would throw in their two cents-worth to fill out the story.
   As for the question, why the title Two Squared? Well, the fanboys would have to wait for the next convention to find out, wouldn't they? With that Quinn closed the file and sent it to the studio. The duo left the room and headed home.
 

END

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