Biker Mice From Mars Fan Fiction ❯ Of (Biker) Mice and (Wo)men ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter Two

Charley woke to the scent of fresh coffee and what smelled like baked oatmeal, which was one scent she hadn't experienced since leaving home. She sniffed the air and padded into the kitchen, finding Alley already at the table, sipping from a mug that looked like it contained more milk than actual coffee. Her hair was piled in a messy bun atop her head, and she wore a pair of tiny boxer shorts and a tank top for pajamas. Charley wondered if she ought to warn her about her sleeping attire in future. Last thing she needed was her boys to get an eyeful of her cousin dressed like that. Vinnie would be incorrigible! And poor, modest Modo would most likely have a stroke. Throttle, well … that guy was such an emotional enigma, he could probably go either way.

“This smells good.” Charley inhaled deeply, pulling back the dish towel draped over a pan of steaming oatmeal. “Your mom’s recipe?“

“Naturally.”

“Did Iknow I even had ingredients to make this?”

“Doubt it. I pulled ‘em from the back of your pantry. They’re probably expired, so if we die of food poisoning, I apologize ahead of time,” Alley teased.

“Funny.”

“By the way, I haveto know. I was digging through your fridge and … do you have some sort of a root beer fetish or something? I’m not sure I even wanna knowabout the hotdogs...”

“Ah, yeah.” Charley smiled sheepishly. “I’ve got some friends and they kind of live on the stuff. So, I keep the place well-stocked for their visits.”

“Hmm.” Alley sipped her coffee. “Are these the same ‘friends’ who are unfairly bigoted toward rats?”

“Oh, stop it.” Charley chuckled as she cut a large square of the oatmeal. “They’re good guys. They’ve just … had some major issues with rat infestation at home, so they’re kind of on bad terms with the whole lot of ‘em. Besides that, the boys are really looking forward to meeting you, so maybe try and play nice, huh?”

“The boys, is it? Hey. You’re not trying to set me up or anything, are you?” Alley regarded her with a teasing glimmer in her eye.

Charley laughed outright. “Trust me, kid. I doubt these guys are anywhere close to your type.”

~*~*~*~*~

The Last Chance Garage was usually closed for business on Sundays, to give Charley a chance to catch up on backlogged work and make any necessary repairs or upgrades to the guys’ bikes. Really, the way they treated those beautiful machines, she was surprised they didn’t turn around and dump their riders on their furry asses in protest.

This time, Alley dragged her downtown to a nicer part of the city, where they spent the day furniture shopping for the spare room. Alley managed to find a decent bed and a three-drawer dresser in an antique shop, which she insisted on paying for despite Charley's offer to buy. “I’ve been working jobs since I was fifteen, and I've got a nice amount of money saved up. And since I’m attending school on scholarships, I can afford to blow a little,” she said.

“You’re gonna have to blow more on decent clothes for yourself in a couple of months,” Charley reminded her. “You aren’t exactly packed for winter weather, you know.”

“Hmmm, winter.” Alley tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You know, I think I’ve heard of that…”

Charley snorted. “Laugh it up, but when the temp drops below fifty degrees, you’ll be begging for a pair of good thermal underwear. I somehow don’t think Daisy Dukes and a tank top will cut it.”

She eyed Alley’s ensemble, again reminding herself to have a talk about her cousin’s wardrobe choices around the guys. Alley was already drawing enough attention from every male who passed them. They all gawked openly at the slender young woman, whose golden-tanned skin was complimented nicely by the white short-shorts and baby-pink camisole top she wore. Her colorful hair was still pulled into its bun, revealing the delicate tattoo of a blue and purple filigree butterfly gracing the back of her neck. In mid-August, the Chicago streets were stifling with heat, but she seemed unaffected, having grown up in a near-tropical climate for almost a decade. Charley felt positively frumpy in comparison.

“Well, lets get this stuff back to the garage,” she sighed, closing the rear gate of her pickup. “It’s almost supper time.”

“Question. How the hell are we going to get all this up into the apartment?” Alley asked. “The hall at the top of the stairs is kinda narrow.”

“Well, If we have to, we can disassemble the bed frame and dresser and carry them up in pieces.”

“And what about the boxspring and mattress?” Alley eyed them skeptically. “Glad I went for the single. A full would never make it.”

“Don’t worry. There’s a fire escape outside your window. And the window itself should be tall enough. We can probably hoist them in that way.”

“All by ourselves?” Alley groaned, not liking the idea at all.

“Nah. I’ll be enlisting some manual labor to help move all this stuff. They'll be here first thing tomorrow.”

~*~*~*~*~

As expected, Vinnie, Modo, and Throttle were less than thrilled with the idea of moving heavy furniture. Even the promise of root beer and hotdogs didn’t cease Vinnie’s grumbling … although the promise of finally getting to meet Alley did.

Within an hour of calling, Charley heard their bikes rumble up to the garage, passing a recently-added sensor that automatically opened the wide metal doors; a bell installed above the doors went off, loudly announcing the arrival of customers. It also doubled as a fire alarm. Such a handy system, this was. Charley wished she’d thought of installing it years ago. She’d have probably saved herself a lot of trashed garage doors due to the guys’ constant, overenthusiastic entrances.

“Hey, right on time,” she called from the stairs.

Vinnie hopped off his bike, pulling his helmet off. He had a funny look on his face. So did the other two, for that matter. “Sweetheart, what the hell is that … that thingparked out front?” he demanded, his tail twitching.

Charley blinked as she climbed down to the garage. “What thing?” She glanced outside, and then it dawned on her. She had to laugh at the matching expressions of disgust on their furry faces. “What, you never seen a VW Bus before?”

“It’s … it’s…” Vinnie was clearly at a loss for words.

“Colorful?” she supplied helpfully, her lips still twitching.

“I’d have gone with ‘eye-gouging‘, but yeah,” Throttle replied.

“Who would actually ownsomething like that?” Modo added with a snort.

Charley raised an eyebrow. “My cousin, actually.”

His eye widened. “Er, meanin’ no disrespect to Alley Ma’am or anything…”

“Relax,” she chuckled. “Alley has some … unique tastes, that’s all. I’m inclined to agree with your description, but don’t tell her I said that.”

“You gonna just leave it sit out there? It’ll probably drive away business,” Vinnie snorted. “No self-respectin’ biker would be caught dead in a garage with thatsitting in front of it.”

“I’ll manage,” she said wryly. “It arrived almost dead in the water, so it ain’t going anywhere for awhile. Although if you macho mice could help me push it into the garage sometime today, I’d be grateful. I need to check the engine over when I get a little free time.”

“Be glad to help,” Modo offered.

“Great. But, first order of business. Give me five minutes and then come on up. I gotta go give Alley a heads-up about your arrival.”

“You did tell her about us, right?” Throttle asked.

“Weeell…”

“Charley-girl!”

“Look, there is no wayto describe three walking, talking alien mice without sounding bat-shit crazy,” Charley laughed. “I’ll warn her, okay? But she’s gotta see for herself, or she’ll never believe it.”

The trio glanced at each other as Charley disappeared up the stairs. Well. Thiswas bound to get interesting.

~*~*~*~*~

“Hey, Alley Cat?” Charley poked her head into the bedroom. Her cousin was seated cross-legged on the floor, feeding Mercedes a slice of apple with peanut butter spread over it. “Is that healthy?” she asked.

“A little treat every once in awhile won’t kill her. She’s had a long trip.” Alley scooped the rat up, kissed the top of her little head, and deposited her into a rather impressive three-tiered cage sitting in the corner. “What’s up?”

“Oh, the guys are here. Wanna come meet them?”

“Sure!” Alley jumped up, but stopped when she found her way blocked. “Okay, what?” she asked, noting the uneasy expression on the other woman’s face.

“I need to warn you … the guys are a little … unusual,” Charley hedged.

“How so?”

“Well, they look a little different.”

“Such as?”

Charley thought for a moment. “Excessive body hair?” she offered after a moment.

Alley giggled. “Okay, so they don’t wax. Not like I’ve never seen that before. Hello! I grew up on the beach! You’d be amazed at the amount of body hair I’ve been forced to look at over the years.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant.” Charley scratched her head, clearly at a loss. She glanced at the cage and brightened. “Think of Mercedes!” she exclaimed. “Only … male. And a lot taller. With more muscle. And biker clothes.”

“What, you’re telling me you’ve got giant biker rats in your living room? Better call the exterminator!” Alley laughed and ducked under Charley’s arm, heading down the short hallway to the living room … where she came to a screeching halt and gaped in stunned wonder at the three furry … creaturesstanding by the stairs.

“Charley. Y-you’ve got … giant biker ratsin your living room!”

Charley slapped a hand over her eyes. “Whoa boy. Nowyou’ve gone and done it,” she groaned, not sure if she was talking to Alley, or herself.

Alley squeaked and hastily backpedaled when the huge gray rat with a metal arm stepped forward, its single red eye taking on a demonic glow. “Rats!” it growled. “My mama didn’t--”

“Easythere, big guy,” the one covered in tawny gold fur hastily cut in, his voice full of warning. “She doesn’t know.”

“Yeah, simmer down, Modo, you’re scarin’ the poor kid!” The last one to speak had glossy white fur and a metal plate covering half his face. He offered a reassuring smile to the ashen-faced woman, who merely moved further back until she bumped into her cousin.

“Alley Cat?” Charley shook her shoulder gently. “Breathe, honey. It’s okay.”

Alley shook her head slowly. “Jiminy Christmas, Charley,” she uttered softly. Right before her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted dead away.