Biker Mice From Mars Fan Fiction ❯ Of (Biker) Mice and (Wo)men ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

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

Chapter Four

Alley watched Charley and Throttle banter back and forth, feeling as if she'd somehow stumbled into an episode of the Twilight Zone. She just couldn't get past how … well, how alienThrottle was, yet her cousin was laughing and teasing and treating him just like she'd treat any longtime friend or family member. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

She considered making a strategic retreat to her bedroom while the pair was distracted, until Throttle suddenly perked up, his head cocking to one side as his ears twitched back and forth. Alley bit her lip to hold in a smile; he reminded her of Mercedes when something had caught her attention. “Whoops,” he announced a moment later. “Party's over, ladies. Looks like the bros are back.”

He'd barely finished speaking before the distinct rumble of motorcycles pulling into the garage—heralded by the clang of the welcome bell—announced their arrival. Alley glanced longingly in the direction of her room, but Charley (the traitor) grabbed her by the arm and steered her back into the living room, forcing her into the very same chair Throttle had been sitting in. Alley's skin crawled, imagining she could feel the prickle of shed fur against her back and legs.

“Maybe you could go warn them to come up slow and steady and not like a herd of elephants, huh?” Charley suggested. Throttle saluted playfully and took the stairs two at a time down to the garage.

She turned back to her cousin and offered an encouraging smile. “Come on, Alley Cat. Relax! Throttle isn't so bad, is he?”

The jury was still out on that one, but Alley had to admit she'd been getting used to the golden mouse. There was something pleasant about his voice. It was kind of soft and husky, like smoke and velvet in her ears. And his demeanor had been calm and relaxed. He’d treated her gently, even though she could tell he’d been a bit irritated by her reaction. “I guess not,” she sighed. “He’s pretty … nice.” She frowned, remembering. “But, that big gray one…”

“Modo? Oh, don’t let his size fool you. He’s a pussycat!”

Alley barked a laugh. “Oh, sure. A pussycat. The big, angry, man-eatingkind.”

Charley pulled a face at her. “Don't be ridiculous. Look, there's a lot of bad blood between the Martian mice and rats, and mistaking one for the other is sort of an insult on their planet, but Modo feels bad for scaring you. Give him a chance, okay? He’s a sweetheart when you get to know him. A real gentleman. And he reallyloves his mama. You can't go wrong with a guy who loves his mama, right?”

“I dunno. Norman Bates really loved hismama.”

“Alley Davidson!” Charley choked on a laugh. “Stop it! I'm trying to be serious, here!”

Alley huffed and relented. “Well, what about the little white one?”

“Vinnie?” Charley chuckled uneasily, shaking her head. “Hmm. What can I say about Vincent Van Wham?”

“Anything you like, Sweetheart! My stunning good looks? My sparkling personality? Pick a subject!” A grinning white-and-silver face appeared like magic over the back of Alley's chair, causing Alley to squawk and fling herself out of it. She landed on the floor with a thud, flipping over and crab-walking straight into Charley's legs.

Charley slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh, for the—Vinnie! Could you trynot to give my cousin a nervous breakdown?” she snapped, shooting him a black look amid sniggers from his bros.

He grinned sheepishly, easing around to take Alley's place in the chair. “Sorry, Sweetheart.”

“Does he always call you Sweetheart?” Alley whispered.

Charley patted her shoulder. “He calls everyoneSweetheart. It's kind of his thing.” She rolled her eyes. “You'll get used to it.”

Modo approached slowly, and Alley eyed him as he towered over her, giving her a polite nod. She nodded back and fought the urge to scramble under the couch. Mostly because there was no way she would fit.

“Just wanted to say, I’m awful sorry for scarin’ you like I did,” he rumbled. “Me an' rats don't get along so well, but it wasn't right, losin' my temper. My gray-furred mama always said the first impression's the lastin' one, an' I guess I didn't make such a great one on you. I'd like to set that straight, if I can.”

Alley nodded absently, but she was hardly listening; her eyes had locked on the giant's right arm. It wasn't a flesh-and-blood limb. It looked like one of those bionic arms that she'd only ever seen in science fiction movies. Good grief, this isn't the Twilight Zone. It's turned into Star Trek,she thought, biting back the hysterical urge to giggle. “D-did a rat do that to you?” she asked instead … and jumped when Charley smacked her across the head.

Oh. That hadcome out a little rude, hadn't it?

Modo glanced at his arm self-consciously. “Nah,” he said, his voice calm. “Ol’ Karbunkle’s the one responsible for this.”

She frowned. Now why did that name sound familiar? She thought for a bit, before remembering. “Oh, he’s that freaky scientist guy,” she murmured. “The one who looks like a mutant.”

Charley gave her a surprised glance. “You’ve seen him?”

“Oh, yeah.” Alley gestured to her head. “Throttle did that … mind-meld trick to show me what was going on. The same thing he did to you when you first met.”

There was dead silence. Vinnie and Modo pinned a squirming Throttle with probing stares. “It’s easier than tryin’ to talk my way through everything,” the golden mouse protested to their raised eyebrows. “There was a lot to cover, all right?”

“Hey, not judging, Sweetheart!” Vinnie held up his hands, his mouth twitching. “Just better hope Carbine doesn’t find out.”

“She won’t find out. It wasn’t like that, anyhow!”

Alley glanced at Charley, who looked as confused as she felt. “Am I missing something?” she whispered.

Modo glanced at them. “Well, directly touchin' minds is sorta intimate,” he explained, tapping his temple. “It’s useful if we’re in a bad situation and need to exchange intel without gettin’ caught, but for a male and female to join minds in a casual setting, it's kinda…” He trailed off, clearing his throat and taking a sudden fascination with the ceiling as he nervously scratched under his chin.

Luckily, Vinnie was there to take over. “That sorta stuff is usually reserved for the bedroom,” he finished, grinning and waggling his eyebrows comically. “It’s a fantastic way to increase the intimacy between mates during—”

“Vincent.” Throttle, who was looking increasingly mortified, cut the white mouse off with a smack of his tail.

Alley glanced up at her cousin, still confused. Charley's face had turned pink, but her eyes were dancing with mischief as she turned around on the couch, resting her chin on her crossed arms and pinning the squirming mouse with a playful stare. “Throttle, you hound,” she teased, her voice filled with laughter. “Puttin’ the moves on us like that, and we never even suspected. I never knew you had it in you!”

Alley promptly choked as the meaning hit home, turning an accusing, slightly-horrified gaze to the golden mouse. “You were putting moveson me?” she squeaked.

“No!” he yelled as the rest of them cracked up. “It wasn’t likethat!” He groaned, wiping a hand over his face, under his field specs. “You guys are never gonna forget this, are you?”

“Hell, no, lover boy!” Charley blew him a playful kiss, which earned him a jealous glare from Vinnie and more laughter from Modo.

Alley abruptly decided that enough was enough, and scrambled to her feet. “I, um, I've gotta go … do … something,” she muttered, and beat a hasty retreat to her room before anyone could stop her. She slammed the door and slumped against it, sliding to the floor with a thump. Mercedes's snout appeared from the nest of wood shavings and shredded paper towels she'd burrowed into, whiskers twitching curiously. Alley crawled over to the cage and poked a finger through the bars to tickle the rat's nose. “Good grief, Mercy,” she sighed. “What the hell did I get myself into?”

~*~*~*~*~

Alley hid in her room for an hour, paging through the picture scrapbooks she'd brought with her from home. She missed home. She missed her parents. She missed her friends. She even missed Chaz. She wished she had a phone so she could call Chaz, just to hear his voice. Then again, lately he didn't have much to say to her; he was still pissed that she'd broken up with him two weeks before leaving for Chicago.

She turned the album to a page filled with photos of herself and her friends; lounging on the beach; at a pool party in Yuri's back yard; her and Chaz cuddling under a blanket beside a bonfire…

She examined the closeup of her ex-boyfriend giving the camera a deadpan stare and a thumbs up, and wrinkled her nose. Well, maybe “pissed” was too strong a word. Chaz didn't get pissed. Mildly annoyed, maybe, when he could be bothered to care. That was the problem with Chaz. He was tall, handsome, well-mannered…

He also had the personality of tile grout.

“Ugh,” she grunted, slapped the album shut and shoved it into a corner of the room. She decided maybe she didn't miss him so much, after all. “I can’t believe I wasted an entire year on that walking doormat.”

Mercedes twitched her whiskers, climbing the side of her cage.

“Well, he was really cute!” Alley defended herself. “And he did have nice manners. Also didn’t hurt that his parents are loaded. Too bad he didn’t have a romantic bone in his entire body. I mean, I’m the one who always had to plan the dates! And forget about making out. You’d think I was diseasedor something, the way he always shied away from kissing.”

Mercedes squeaked at her.

“I know, I know,” she grumbled. “That’s what I get for being shallow and dating a cute rich guy. He was probably gay. I mean, I’m gorgeous, right? What straight guy in his right mind wouldn’t want a piece of this?”

Mercedes replied by crawling into her nest of wood shavings and shredded tissues and curling up to sleep.

“Gee. Thanks for the heart-to-heart. You always know justwhat to say.”

Alley staggered to her feet. Her butt and legs had gone numb from sitting cross-legged on the floor for so long. She hobbled to the door, opening it a crack to listen outside. There was absolute silence. She peeked out, then crept down the short hallway to the living room. Charley and the mice were gone. In their place stood a pile of wooden parts that she recognized as the pieces of her furniture. They must have gone ahead and taken the bed and dresser apart to get them up from the garage. Alley felt momentarily guilty, knowing she should've helped. It washer furniture, after all.

She crept down the stairs far enough to peek into the brightly-lit garage, where she noticed her bus had been parked in an unused corner. And there was Charley, surrounded by a pile of car parts, working on fastening a door onto the frame of a car. “Are they gone?” she called.

Her cousin stopped working, lifted the welding mask from her face, and turned to give her cousin a hard stare. “For now,” she replied. “They're coming back later, though. I promised them dinner and movies for their help.” She folded her arms across her chest, radiating disapproval.

Alley suddenly felt as if she'd been caught by her mother sneaking in late after a party or something. “Okay, what?” she asked, mirroring Charley's stance.

“I don't appreciate the way you treated my friends,” the redhead scolded. “They did their best to welcome you in their own way. They don't interact with a lot of humans, you know. It's not like there's proper etiquette for introducing two alien species to each other. Yeah, they're a bit startling at first, but I think you totally overreacted. The Alley Iremember was never such a shrinking violet.”

“I—But you—And they—Well, what about you?” Alley sputtered, switching from shamefaced to defensive in two seconds. “Maybe I wouldn't have 'overreacted' if youhadn't waited until thirty seconds beforehandto tell me I was about to meet giant talking alien mice!”

Charley blinked, then cracked a small smile. “You make a good point,” she conceded.

“Damn straight, I do.” Alley's own lips were twitching despite the scowl she was trying hard to keep in place. “I warned you Iwas bringing a pet. The least you could've done was return the favor!”

Charley choked out a laugh. “Alley, that’s mean! They're notanimals, no matter what they look like. They're as much people as we are! They just happen to possess tails and fur coats and hail from a different planet.”

“I know that.” Alley sighed, hopping up to sit on Charley's tool chest.

“Will you promise to at least tryand get to know them. I mean, if it wasn't for them, most of this planet would've been strip-mined and shipped off to Plutark by now. They're really heroes, if you stop to think about it. They deserve a little respect.”

“Okay, okay. I promise I'll give them another chance, and I won't even run screaming for the hills this time.” At Charley's dubious look, she added, “Scout's honor!” and held up four fingers.

“That's the Vulcan peace sign, Alley.”

“Pfft. Whatever.”

Charley sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I'm so glad we had this little chat.”

The colorful blond laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “Anytime, Charley-girl! What else is family for?”