#ler michael

Its smile widened impossibly. “I’m glad to see you.” The voice sounded from all around. “I missed your face.”

“You’re not him.” It escaped before Gerry could stop it. “Stop lying.”

It cocked its head, smile fading ever so slightly, eyes like kaleidoscopes. “I should stop lying?”

Gerry clenched his fist. “I was trying to protect him from the Eye.” He muttered. It made no difference, he wasn’t talking to Michael, because he was gone. This thing was just playing with him.

Something in its eyes seemed to soften. Then it laughed again. “Well, you did.” It giggled. “Congratulations.”

“Fuck off.”

“It’s alright. I’ve learned to quite like being like this.”

Gerry growled and decided abruptly that he didn’t need to stand here and listen to this. He didn’t need to play the Spiral’s stupid game. He turned, and waked away down the corridor, refusing to look back.

“Gerry!” The voice sounded all the more human as it hurried after him, sending a hot bolt of anger through him.

“Shut up!” Gerry rounded on it. “It’s Gerard. You don’t get to call me that, you’re not Michael, you’re just the thing that- that ­ate him.” Crap, his throat was getting tight. “If I had the power, I’d burn you right now.”

Michael’s throat worked. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t tell me what I mean.” He turned back around. His apartment had to be here somewhere, surely. He’d walked for a little while, and his door wasn’t that far down the hallway.

The hallway.

The door.

Dread like ice slid up his spine. “Let me go.”

There was no reply.

Gerry span around, fully prepared to tear the Spiral limb from limb from limb. “Let me GO!”

He’d almost really messed up and grabbed the thing when he noticed the swirling, rainbow of colour pouring down its face and pooling on the floor. It almost looked like tears. “Please.” It rasped. “I- I’ve been trying to find you, I didn’t know how to control anything Gerry, I was- I was lost, I just wanted to see you again.”

Gerry stared in stony silence.

The Spiral wiped one giant hand over its face. “Gerard.” It corrected. “Sorry.”

He didn’t speak.

It sniffled. The sound didn’t echo. “H-how can I prove that I’m- I’m me?” The Spiral asked. “What could I say that would convince you?”

Gerry crossed his arms. “You could start by letting me go.”

It shuddered all over. Gerry wasn’t sure if it was a glitch or a sob. “If I do that, you’ll run.”

I just wanted to see you. A weak part of Gerry wanted to believe it. “I won’t.” He promised. “If you- unless you try to harm me, or someone else, I won’t run.”

Those huge, watery, kaleidoscope eyes got even wider. In a flash, a door had appeared beside him. He swallowed, knowing that this could very easily be another trick, and walked through it.

The next thing he knew, he was in his apartment. Crappy posters on the walls and smelly kitchen to prove it.

“Well?”

Gerry turned. The Spiral was still there. “It’s a start.” He muttered.

--

“I- look, I don’t just burn any book I come across, you know?”

The Spiral’s head tilted in an imitation of confusion.

“I burn evil books, you know? Cursed? Not- Nigella Lawson!”

It nodded. “Evil, I see.”

Gerry sighed, then yelped when another book thumped down onto his lap. “This- okay, Thatcher’s autobiography isn’t what I had in mind.”

“But?”

“I suppose I’ll make an exception.”

--

“Where the fuck are my cigarettes?”

Silence.

“You son of a bitch, Michael, I know you’re there, give me my fucking smokes!”

In a blink, he was there, smiling that huge smile, cigarettes in hand. “You called me Michael.”

Gerry was struck dumb for a moment, but it was right. He’d called it Michael. “Maybe I did.”

“Thank you.”

Gerry grumbled and snatched the cigarettes, crossing his arms. “S’just faster to say.” He muttered.

Michael smiled wider. “Of course.”

--

They weren’t cuddling. That wasn’t what this was. Gerry was sitting on his sofa by himself, and Michael had just… appeared, wrapped himself around him like an octopus, and Gerry wasn’t going to react because he knew that that was what Michael wanted him to do.

He’d really gained a taste for mischief since being taken by the Spiral. That or he’d just gotten bolder.

Regardless, Gerry was going to watch telly and not acknowledge the cuddly monster that was wrapping around him. Even if he could feel those eyes and that smile burning into him. “Michael…”

The limbs tightened, but not to the point of causing pain. “Yes?”

Gerry rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to watch the telly.”

“And you are more than welcome to do so.” The hair was wrapping around him now, and that was just a little bit weird. “Please, continue.”

“Since when are you so clingy?” Gerry asked with a smirk, poking him gently.

Michael’s hair continued to twine around him, wrapping up his shoulders, his torso, “Since I missed you.” He whispered.

Then there was an electric sensation shooting up Gerry’s spine and he yelped, jerking away. What the hell?! His eyes met Michael’s, which he was gratified to note seemed equally confused. So it wasn’t intentional. Michael’s hair had just touched a spot on his side where his shirt had ridden up and…

Ah.

Ah fuck.

Michael seemed to realise at the same moment that Gerry did. He grinned. “Well well well…” It cooed, but Gerry was already on his feet, retreating.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” Oh god he was smiling. He tried not to.

Michael rose, and Gerry wasn’t sure if he was taller or not. His fingers, always long and sharp looking, took on an entirely different threat now. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”

“B-because I- shit, because I told you to!”

The laugh echoed inside his head. Michael was definitely taller, and his grin seemed to be too big for his face to contain it. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a better reason than that.”

“Don’t you dare!” He couldn’t take this, couldn’t stand still while Michael looked at him like that, couldn’t bear the Knowledge of how bad this was going to be when Michael caught him.

Not if.

When.

Gerry bolted through the door before he’d even had the chance to think it through, helpless to the massive grin on his face and the laughter bubbling up in his stomach already.

Fuck.

He hadn’t even known he was ticklish.

Then he looked around. Fuck.

He should have realised that there was no door there.

That laugh echoed through the corridors towards him, and Gerry pounded on the wall that he’d just come through. “No!” He squeaked, still grinning like a loon. This was mad, it was insane, he couldn’t-

“Gerard…”

Oh no.

Giving up entirely on the idea of reopening the door, Gerry took off down the corridor, away from that teasing voice. His boots stomped loudly, but he didn’t care, he just needed to get away, Michael couldn’t catch him, he couldn’t.

“Hello.”

He shrieked, stumbling forwards as hair wrapped around his ankles, trying to trip him. “No!” A laugh escaped when Gerry tried to pull himself free. “Don’t you dare!”

Michael giggled, his fingers wiggling teasingly. “Don’t I dare what?”

Gerry tripped, falling to the ground with a crash and trying to crawl away. “I-I’m not ticklish!”

A hand seized his wrists, lightning fast. “Is that so?” Gerry tried to squirm his arms free, but they were pulled up with very little effort. “Because I didn’t ask if you were.”

“Let me gohoho!” Crap he was already laughing. Squirming on the ground, laughing, and almost certainly blushing like crazy. He couldn’t help it, everything about this was so damn flustering.

Michael laughed again. Oh, this was delightful. Gerard Keay, bright red and giggling. Perfect. “What are you laughing for?” It teased, floating its free hand over Gerry’s abdomen without touching just yet. “I haven’t done anything.” Yet.

Gerry tried to bite back the laughter, but he couldn’t. Michael’s fingers were wiggling ever so slowly and the anticipation was killing him. It looked so devious and sneaky, and sure no one had ever tickled him before but he knew enough to squirm. “Don’t- don’t!”

“But,” Michael continued, “You’re not ticklish, of course, so it would hardly affect you even if I did. A real shame, after all the times you attacked me. Do you remember?”

Gerry squeezed his eyes closed to block out the sight of those fingers. It was worse. How was it worse?

A finger wiggled against his clothed stomach, earning a high shriek. “Remember?” Michael prompted.

“Y-Yes!” Gerry rushed out. Of course he did. It had been fun at the time, messing around with Gertrude’s cute assistant, making him laugh and having an excuse to laugh himself. Michael’s reactions were always so adorable, how he squirmed and jumped and squeaked at the smallest touch.

“A shame that you’re not so sensitive.” Michael’s voice purred impossibly close. “I have quite the taste for revenge, nowadays.”

Fuck. He couldn’t take this anymore. “Just- shit- just get on with it you sadistic fuck!”

Another teasing laugh. “Oh, well, since you’re so eager.”

“You know that’s not what I-ah! Shit! Shihihihit!” The fingers had started to worm their way around his leather coat, to glide across the fabric over his ribs in a way that felt more mischievous than anything he’d ever felt before.

The fingers cupped his ribcage, wriggling slowly along their length and ending in those devilish nails pricking at his skin, making that entire side feel warm and tingly and Gerry couldn’t hope to keep it all in, it just- it tickled!

He shrieked and giggled and tried to twist his vulnerable side away, but he knew Michael was far too strong for that. His mocking laughter felt like it tickled all on its own, flushing Gerry’s cheeks bright red. He wished he had any chance at all of hiding his huge grin and burning cheeks, but there was no hope of that either. “Nonono- Michael please!”

“You’re making an awful lot of noise for someone who isn’t ticklish.” Michael crooned. “You wouldn’t have lied to me, would you?”

Gerry hiccupped and bucked when the hand reached around his back, fingers growing so long that they could torment both sides at once, getting dangerously close to the hem of his shirt. “God, dohohon’t! Don’t do THAT!” A nail snuck under his shirt, scratching a light, electric line across his stomach and reducing Gerry to loud cackling.

Michael leaned in until he was right beside Gerry’s laughing face. “Gerard...” It whispered, getting a loud shriek when its breath very intentionally tickled against his neck. “I think you may have lied. I think you’re, in fact, quite ticklish. Perhaps even very ticklish. What do you have to say about that?”

It was difficult to tell whether Gerry was trying to reply or not. All that came out of his mouth was a garbled mix of sounds and laughter, completely unintelligible and utterly adorable.

Michael swirled the nail in a slow spiral around his stomach. “Fascinating.” It whispered, beaming down at him. “That is a compelling argument, but I’ll have to disagree. At the very least, this seems like a very ticklish stomach. I think Gerard Keay has a ticklish tummy.”

“NO!” Gerry shrieked, the nail’s tracing getting smaller and smaller in conjunction with his laughter getting more and more frantic.

Michael beamed. “No? Are you certain?” Gerry only cackled in response, so it continued, massaging his sides with its knuckles and swirling that sharp nail in even smaller circles, almost at his belly button. “This doesn’t tickle?”

Tears pricked at Gerry’s eyes, muscles straining to thrash, to move, to squirm, to do anything, but he couldn’t. He could only laugh and shake his head.

“I think it does.” Michael cooed, manipulating his breath to twist and tickle around Gerry’s neck as he spoke. “I think it will especially tickle just- in- here!” He poked a short line, then dipped the finger into his belly button, wiggling gently.

Before he had even realised what he was doing, Gerry was shrieking with wild laughter and bucking every which way to get away, roll over, curl up, do anything because holy crap it tickled, it tickled! “FFAHAHAHAHA OHNOnonono, noplease, please!”

Michael giggled. “Tickle tickle tickle.” It cooed. “That does tickle quite a lot, doesn’t it?”

The nail twisted, tracing circles around the inside of his navel and making Gerry scream. “FUHUHUCK!” He wailed. “Ohmygod NOHO- getitoutgetitoutgetitout PLEHEASE!!”

The nail retracted, as if sensing his desperation, and Gerry collapsed, panting, wheezing and giggling against the technicolour floor. “I-I fuhucking hate you.” He gasped, once he had a grip of his faculties.

Michael giggled delightedly. “It’s hardly my fault if you’re so sensitive.” It said, wiggling its fingers at Gerry and revelling in his answering squeak.

Gerry kicked out with his feet, trying to scoot backwards, away from that smile, those eyes, those fingers.

Those fingers were evil.

Michael laughed louder, flowing forwards without seeming to move its legs, still wiggling its fingers in that awful, teasing manner. “Where are you going?”

The laughter that Gerry had just started to get under control came back. “No- no you stay away from me!” He chuckled, trying and failing to get to his feet, the intensity of Michael’s eyes and smile enough to get him laughing even without the continued threat that those fingers held. “Michael.”

“Gerard.”

He scrambled backwards, laughing more and holding out his hands defensively. “Don’t you- hey, hey, get your hands off me!”

To his surprise, Michael stopped. To his dismay, its grin only grew. “Are you certain that’s what you want?”

Gerry’s eyes widened, watching Michael’s long mane of hair animate behind him, flowing into a hundred tiny tentacles that wiggled and reached and waved at him. “Oh no, nonono wait, wahahahait!” He tried to crawl away but found himself remaining still no matter how hard he tried.

Michael giggled, the sound alone making Gerry laugh too. “Don’t take my hands off you? My my, Gerard, and you say I’m confusing.”

“You fucking- you asshole, I hate you!”

It tutted. “Oh, surely you don’t mean that.”

A tendril of hair wound around Gerry’s leg, making him yelp and tug and try to run, but again, no matter how fast he tried to go, he remained exactly where he was. “No- no, okahahay, okay okay okay please, Michael, plehehase!”

“I’m doing exactly as you asked, Gerard.” Its face was by his ear again, the breath weaving impossibly around his neck and ears.

Gerry didn’t know how words could feel like that, but he was in too deep to question it now. He giggled breathlessly and batted at his ears, knowing it would do nothing.

Michael’s grin was unfairly infectious. “Are you sure you’re not ticklish?”

“Oh fffuhuck you.”

“Rude.” Michael tittered. “I’ll search for potentially tender spots in other places then.”

The threat had Gerry curling up in as tight a ball as he could manage, but that tendril of hair remained wrapped around his leg, winding further and further around him even as he did everything he could to escape it. “Naha- no!”

“Oh yes.” Michael crooned. “You’re so much fun to play with Gerard, I might never let you go. This is far too entertaining.”

“G-gonna murder you!”

Michael laughed. “Gonna tickle you!” It sang back, another strand of hair teasing at his other leg, wiggling over the laces of his boots.

Oh fuck. That tickled. That tickled more than it had any right to, over the shoes, what the hell?!

Not for the first time, Gerry was glad that he’d been too lazy to take his boots off when he had gotten home. Hopefully Michael would be too bored with the idea of undoing all the laces.

He felt something dancing against his calf, soft and light and ticklish, making Gerry break into giggles despite it not being a particularly ticklish spot. Then it wormed its way under his sock and oh no. “Nononoho Michael!” He squeaked, the silky hair slithering down his ankle, whispers of touch along the way making him twitch.

“Gerard.” It hummed, the hair featherlight and squeezing effortlessly past his tight boots. “You wouldn’t be ticklish here now, would you?”

Gerry said nothing, opting instead to clamp his hands over his face and kick, hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought it would be.

The end of the tendril reached his heel, fluttering against it playfully, and earning a loud squeal. It’s worse!

The hair felt like soft, downy feathers, teasing unbearably slowly up Gerry’s foot and making him giggle at an embarrassingly high pitch, squirming from side to side and swinging his arms haphazardly at the source of his madness.

Michael giggled along with him. “Not ticklish here either?” The other foot started to get the other treatment, making him wail into his hands. “Not even a tiny bit?”

Gerry shrieked. This was madness, he wasn’t even being held down! He couldn’t grab at the gentle little brushing over his feet, couldn’t get past his own damn boots, couldn’t kick away, couldn’t run, couldn’t do anything other than roll around and laugh from the awful fluttering sensation now dancing across both of his feet. “EEEEhehahahaha- hic- Michael! Michael it tihihickles, it tickles please!”

“Ah, so you are ticklish?” Gerry didn’t need to see its face to feel that massive smile. “When you claimed you weren’t?”

Gerry wrapped his arms around himself as he rolled from side to side, his knees pulled uselessly up to his chest. “I-ehehe- I was wrong, I was wrohohong!”

The fluttering stopped, though the tendrils didn’t retreat, leaving Gerry still giggling and trying to keep his feet from twitching and tickling themselves.

Michael cocked its head, the mischievous smile a good deal softer than it had been before. “You didn’t know.”

God, what Gerry wouldn’t give to stop fucking smiling. The giddy feeling in his stomach was kind of nice though. “No, I- not like I’ve been close to many people, right?”

That huge Cheshire grin was all but pressed into his face. “Are we close?”

Feeling bold for some reason, Gerry shoved a hand in Michael’s face, pushing him back. “About as close as you can get right now! Fuck- wait nahahaha no!” The feathery hair resumed its dance with a fervour, sending Gerry back into shivering giggles.

“New discoveries must be archived, of course.”

Gerry let out a sound that he would never admit was a whine, giving up on protestations entirely and squirming around, if only to vent all the energy those maddeningly light strands seemed to fill him with every time they brushed against his arches, dividing into a million tiny fibres as they did.

Michael smiled. Oh, this was a treat. Gerry’s hair was a mess, his face red, and his coat flapping as he thrashed and tried to roll away even though they both knew that wasn’t going to happen. He was even squirming enough that Michael’s hair had started to wind around him more and more.

Hmmmm…

“I wonder, what about your toes, hmm?” Michael asked in a teasing lilt. “Ticklish toes?”

Gerry’s toes immediately scrunched up at the threat. “Naha- NO!”

“But how can you be certain, Gerard? Surely you want to know.”

The worst part was that Michael was completely right.

No, the worst part was when it shifted up that last short distance to poke playfully about his toes, tiny silky strands sliding between them with no resistance, making Gerry howl. “FUHUHUCK! Ohno- nonono it tihickles, Michahahael it tickles!”

Michael giggled. “Oh, it does?” It teased, “It tickles on your toes?”

Fuck. He could hardly say anything to that, even if he wanted to. Gerry snorted and cackled into the softness around him, writhing completely helplessly as that static smoothness wove through and around his scrunched-up toes.

Wait, what softness was around him? Gerry’s eyes snapped open, and he realised with giddy dread that all his squirming had tangled him up quite thoroughly in Michael’s hair. It was wrapped around his legs, his stomach, ribs, there was even a strand loosely around his neck.

The hair which was currently mercilessly tickling his feet and driving him out of his mind. Oh no.

Michael must have seen that he’d noticed. It giggled. “Oh dear, you’ve gotten yourself awfully tied up there.” The hair assaulting his feet lessened enough that Gerry could catch his breath, still giggling and grinning like crazy.

“Don’t yohohou fucking- Michael no!”

It laughed. “I haven’t done a thing.” The hair twitched, a strand sliding under his shirt to ghost up his side. Another wound around his ear, and yet another wriggled into the sleeve of his shirt. Gerry bit his lip and tried to keep it all in. Michael leaned closer until it could have caught his ear in its teeth. “You did this to yourself.” It whispered.

The words, again, danced across his neck, his ear, his face, making Gerry squeal and jerk, then laugh loudly because no, all the strands were wiggling against him now, feathery and mischievous and so so ticklish! One feeler dragged back and forth over his side, teasing his stomach briefly before returning, while yet another darted in and out of his armpit, even as he tried desperately to lower his arm, cackling wildly. The hair was everywhere, wiggling and stroking softly, so softly that Gerry was sure it would drive him mad.

Michael giggled along with him. “My, I’m hardly doing a thing.” It teased. It was true; the odd twitch of hair here and there was more than enough to keep Gerry squirming around, tickling himself to death. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament. You must really love this.”

Fuck.

“NO!” He shrieked, on impulse, but the idea had already taken root. He… didn’t hate this, did he? It tingled and tickled like crazy, he was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, and that was nice. More than nice. It was addictive. Intoxicating.

Michael’s voice felt impossibly close. So close as to be inside his mind already. “Oh dear, I’m certain that lies are my domain.” It whispered. “And that one tasted delightful. Look at you, so soft and helpless. If you only held still, it would all stop.”

Hold still? There was no way, every part of him felt like it was being gently electrocuted, he couldn’t hold still.

Even if he wanted to.

“Tell me, does this tickle more, or less?” The hair… shifted somehow, though Gerry couldn’t explain it. All he knew was that what had felt like feathers now felt like soft, bristly brushes scrubbing over his hypersensitive nerves.

Gerry wailed, throwing himself around despite knowing that it was only going to make this worse. Or… better? Shit. He couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything other than roll around and cackle until Michael felt like granting him mercy.

Mercy that Gerry wasn’t sure that he wanted, deep down.

A strand of hair slipped into his belly button and was enough to have him snorting frantically when he started to feel short of breath. Surely Michael would have to stop soon? That or Gerry would pass out, which would be embarrassing to be sure, but that would be something-

In a strange surge, Gerry found that he suddenly didn’t feel short of breath anymore. Between kicking and the bristly tickles all over, he barely had the brainpower to wonder what the hell was going on.

Michael’s grin was inches from his. “I meant it.” It crooned. “I could keep you here forever. Would you like that? Never needing to stop for breath or sleep, just being tickled and tickled and tickled forever.”

Yes. A traitorous little voice inside whispered. Yes.

“You could spend a lifetime like this.” It continued, drinking in the sweetness of Gerry’s laughter and screams. “Who knows how many years of tickles, and I could return you just at the moment you left. If I returned you at all.”

“NAHA- NO!”

“No?” Michael chuckled. “But Gerard, you haven’t told me to stop.”

What? No, that couldn’t be right, he’d been begging, begging Michael to…

“It’s true,” The hair around his neck and ears changed back to fluttering feathers, making Gerry wheeze. “I haven’t done anything you told me not to do. And I’ve done what you told me to. You just love this so much, you’d never want it to stop, would you?”

Gerry wheezed, wishing he could hide his face, shaking his head.

“Oh yes.” And then the worst thing happened, Michael stopped. It grinned down at the still giggling Gerry. “You just have to tell me what you want.” It cooed. “And I’ll do it.”

Fuck. A choice between… what? Dignity and delirium? Laughter and freedom? If, that is, he could get any words out past the giggles that wouldn’t stop. “You-pfahahaha f-fuck you!”

“Ooh, tempting.” Michael crooned. “Perhaps another time.”

Those fingers were floating up and down his trapped torso, not touching at all but still driving Gerry to laughter. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t take this! “Let me GOHOHO!”

Michael tutted. “If you insist.”

The hair unfurled from him in the least ticklish manner possible, and Gerry had exactly enough time to realise that he was disappointed before he was dropped through yet another door and lost all coherence.

There was no build up, no Michael, no anything. He was lost amid a tempest of swirling colour and sound and all of it tickled, every tiny thing. Gerry cackled hysterically and rolled in the air, or water, or feathers, whatever it was that had him in its ticklish grip, but even that wasn’t enough, couldn’t vent the energy pulsing through him. Every sense was being teased; how sound could tickle he didn’t know, nor smell, nor taste, but Gerry wasn’t in a position to argue the terms of his insanity, only to bear it as it swirled all around and inside and over and tickled, it tickled, it tickled!

And even as he writhed and sobbed with laughter, lost amid the madness of the Distortion and the teasing smile he could still feel from Michael, Gerry couldn’t deny that he loved every torturous bit of it.

He barely noticed when he finally broke and begged for it to stop, his mind exploding with fireworks of sensation as the ground became the normal craziness of Michael’s regular corridors. The monster crouched beside him, grinning that huge smile.

Gerry twitched, streams of giggles still bursting from his lips. “E-ehehevil.” He said, twitching and hugging himself. “Evil monster.”

Michael laughed and ruffled his hair with those long fingers. “You flatter me.”

“I wouldn’t call that letting me go.”

The grin took on a deviousness. “Oh Gerard, and I thought you knew how my doors worked by now.”

Gerry did. He knew exactly how they worked. So, the only reason he’d been sucked into that ticklish vortex was because he had… opened the door. He reddened, turning his head to hide his face, mumbling incoherently.

Michael snorted, an unusual sound from it, and combed its fingers through Gerry’s hair. “Is Gerard embarrassed?” It teased. “Is Gerard embarrassed at how ticklish he is?”

Gerry twitched, grinning into the floor. “I think we’re past the point where you can call me Gerry, don’t you?” He muttered, proud of the minimal squeakiness to his voice.

Michael’s expression froze for a long moment. Gerry looked up at it, feeling something in his stomach melt when its face softened. “I’d like that.” Michael murmured.

“Good.”

The smirk was back. “Is Gerry embarrassed at how ticklish he is?”

"...And if the robots ever start being weird and going places they're not supposed to, there's a switch on their backs where you can change how active they are! At parties you want to keep it at 8, but when they're in the maintenaince room, keep it at a 1 or a 0."

On the backs of the robots' heads, there were numbers you could adjust for just that purpose. Scott took his wrench to show Mike the control panel and turned to him with a smile.

Shrugging, Mike told him he'd remember that if it's necessary.

Opening up the panel, Scott gasped.

"What's going on?! W-was this in the original programming?!" He flinched and stepped back. Then he paced around, holding his head. "Oh no, no, no, no, no!"

Mike inspected the panel, but all he saw was a lot of ones and zeroes.

"Uhhh, care to explain?"

"Yeah, uhhhh..." Scott looked back at the panel with a wince. He pointed to a small section after the 'personality' program. "This here says that these guys are supposed to bite or chomp on any human that comes near them when they're online!"

"How do we fix that?" Mike said.

Meanwhile, Scott was already typing something on the keyboard linked to the controls. "Uhh, I'm working on it. Just a second..."

He frowned, as it seemed the program overrided all of his attempts to shut down the 'attack' mode.

Poking his back, Mike tried to get his attention. Scott shot up in the air. "Eeek!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you... I'm simply curious. Um, is there a way to change the state of the attack mode?"

Scott looked up, intrigued. "W-what do you mean...?"

Mike grinned. "I mean, is there a way to change the attack from, say, 'bite' to 'tickle'?"

He huffed. "A-are you mocking me...?"

Scott remembered all the times Mike and his friends tickled him to tears.

"Not at all. I just think it would be a lot more safe for the customers." Mike replied, looking away coyly.

"Alright. I'll try it..." Scott said with a distrusting glare.

Against all odds, it worked.

...

Scott grinned, as he had a plan. "Are you ready, Foxy? It's showtime!"

"Yarr harr harr!" The robot said. Foxy had his hook replaced with another paw, since they found his hook was too sharp to be around kids. Scott had taken the hook to the maintenance room so they could make it duller. In the meantime, Foxy was good as new! Scott grinned, proud of his work.

"Oh Mike! I think there's something wrong with Foxy!"

Coming over, Mike rolled his eyes. "What is it this time?"

Foxy picked up Mike.

"Scott?! What's this!! Make him put me down!"

Instead, Scott sat back to watch the action. Foxy started tickling Mike's sides.

"EEHEEEHEEHHEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEEEEEE!" Mike screamed, thrashing in his grasp. "SCOHOOHOOHOOOOOTT!"

Scott laughed. "Consider this my revenge, Michael!"

"OHOHOHOOOOOO! YOHHOHOOUU ARE SOHOHOHOOHO GETTING IHIHIIHIIIIIT!" He squealed.

Foxy tickled Mike's entire torso, including his back and navel, before letting him go. The worst spot seemed to be his ribs, right before they met his armpits. When he set him down, Mike was a giggling, flushed mess.

"My hair.." he whined, the thrashing having messed his beautiful brown locks up.

"Oh, you'll get over it!" Scott rolled his eyes, holding an empty popcorn bag.

Getting his bag, Mike applied more hair gel to try and fix it.

Then Foxy came up to Scott and picked him up.

"Eeek! F-Foxy, please!"

Mike grinned at the karmic justice.

"Let's see how you like it!"

Instead of tickling him, Foxy just froze.

"What?!" Mike said, feeling robbed.

"Heh. G-guess it's another malfunction...?" Scott said nervously, trying to wiggle out of Foxy's grasp.

Getting up, Michael made his way towards Scott.

"Michael, I'm sorry! P-please!"

"It's alright, Scott, I forgive you..." he said with a mischievous grin. "Now, let's get you out of there, shall we...?"

Squealing, Scott wiggled and thrashed before his friend even touched him.

"Please!! Please, Mike!! Eeek! I-I can't stand it!!"

"Relax, Scott. This will only take a minute!!" Mike teased, wiggling his fingers in front of his belly.

Closing his eyes, Scott blushed with a grin.

Then, to catch him by surprise, Mike went for his ribs, making him scream!

"AHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAA!! MIHIHIHIHIKE!"

And he tickled everywhere that Foxy had tickled him, going around to his back, gliding his fingers up his spine and squeezing his hips.

Scott was shedding tears already. "AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAHAAAAAA!! IHIHIHITS SOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAHAD!"

Mike was sure to trace his armpits gently, since he remembered Scott had a bad experience being picked up as a kid. His soft tracing was super effective, making Scott devolve into endless chortles.

Then he moved away to trace along his neck, making him turtle. And he decided to tease him as well.

"Aww, is poor cute Scotty ticklish...? And does he like it when people tickle him?"

His face was completely flushed now. Shaking his head, he whined. "M-Mike, please!"

Michael chuckled. "I mean, I think we all know the answer to that!"

Then he unbuttoned his security guard shirt and traced along his tummy.

"AHAHHAHAHAHHAAAAAAAHAA! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEAAAAASEE!" He shrieked.

"Is that the anticipation, or is it really that ticklish...?" Mike genuinely wondered. "I mean, I know your stomach's your worst spot, but..."

"LEEEET MEEHEEHEHEHEHEHE DOHOOHOHOHHOWN!"

"Nah." And he scribbled all over his tummy, making note of how toned it was. "I see you've been working out!"

Not expecting a compliment, he flushed even more. "EEHEHEHEEHEHEHEHEEEEE!! MIHIHIHIHIIIIKE!"

He booped the button and blew ten tiny raspberries over it, relishing in Scott's reactions. Which consisted of squeals, shrieks, and begging. Finally, he gave Scott a rest, letting him catch his breath.

"Ohohohoho goohooohoodness!" He panted, slumping in Foxy's arms.

"Gee, I'd have thought that would have worked. Oh well!" So Mike tried to remove Foxy's paws from Scott himself. He wasn't as tech savvy, but he got an idea. Lightly tickling under Foxy's arms, he teased the fox robot about his own sensitivity. To his surprise, it worked and Foxy dropped him!

"T-thanks, Mike..." Scott mumbled, still tickle-happy.

"Yeah, no problem! And guess what? Foxy's ticklish!"

Scott came over to examine him. "No way!" He wiggled his fingers on Foxy's tummy. From the voice box came the sound of a pirate's laugh!

"Yahahahaahahaar Haaahahahahahaarrr Haahahahaharrrr!" And Foxy covered his stomach.

"Heh, amazing!"

At that moment, William Afton came into the restaurant and unlocked the door to his office, promptly walking inside and closing it.

"Hey, you know what I think...?" Mike said. "We should have the animatronics get my dad!"

Scott looked panicked. "A-are you crazy?! He'll kill us!"

Mike stopped to think. It may have been meant metaphorically, but he knew William was capable of rather evil things. "Well, let's just wash our hands of this so he doesn't know it was us! All evidence removed. And if he gets too close, it's out of our hands!"

There was a chuckle and a snort from Scott. "You know what? You're right. ... I mean, once he finds out the program was changed he'll probably reprogram them. But you can't say we didn't try!"

Patting him on the back, Mike nodded. "Good man. For now, let's just subtly warn customers of the dangers of this place. Serves father right for endangering his own business!"

In the coming weeks, Mike and Scott did just that. Reminding customers that there are rumors surrounding this place and that the animatronics are dangerous if you get too close. And William was getting a little stranger each day. Business was good, and there were no more child murders in the past few months. Which felt unnerving to William. He discussed it with Henry, who seemed happy. Scowling, he realized there was something up.

So William decided to try and fix them, starting with Bonnie. But once he approached Bonnie, the large rabbit grabbed him around the waist and tickled him mercilessly.

"AHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAAAAA!! WHOHOHOHHOHOOOO DDIHIHIHIHIIID THIHIHIHIIIIHIHIHIIIIS?!" He shrieked like a girl, and kicked wildly.

Mike and Scott tried not to laugh as they continued to work.

Well, it was fun while it lasted! They both thought.