I don't own the BM, the series, the characters or anything that Bentwood was stupid enough not to continue in this wonderful toon.

Gone With the Wind Biker Mice Style

Charley sat mindlessly changing the channels trying to get her mind on something else. The guys had left early the night before but that didn't stop Throttles mellow, throaty, smoother then cream and rougher then gravel voice from ringing in her ears and bouncing endlessly around in her head. As if that wasn't bad enough, there were so many other things she had to try and ignore when he was anywhere in her immediate vicinity. Every move he made, every gesture, would send that hot cold shiver down her spine.  The way he would lean against the nearest wall when something concerned him folding those magnificent sculpted arms so that every beautifully defined muscle could be admired. His hair falling even further over those mirrored shades that would slip just the tiniest bit down his nose as his head bent forward with his mind lost in some tactical maneuver.

She sighed with a small pout wishing, wishing what? That he would come bursting through her door, take her passionately in his arms and smother her with kisses. Yeah, like that would ever happen. Why would it? She was the little sister, punch in the arm, one of the guys, little grease monkey." She sadly looked down at the same old blue work shirt, jeans and brown boots.

Not that any of them would ever notice, but there was a Charley, no a Charlene, who was soft, gentle, and feminine if ever given the opportunity to show it. But that would probably never happen. Not if furry, tan and handsome had anything to do with it. Besides Carbine's death, the year before, made him even more guarded with his emotion then he was before if that were possible. Still, all that didn't change how she felt.

The channel surfing stopped when she saw the title of the next movie showing on the vintage movie channel. The grand musical score, that let the viewer know that the sweeping large scale classic was about to start, Yeah, she knew life wasn't' so great for those who had to live as slaves back then, but if she had to be complete honest she liked the way the movie showed the romance and adventures of the heroine of the plantation know as Tara, Katherine Scarlet O'Hara.

Charley was glued to the set, living all the southern bell's many trials and tribulations. She could feel her eyes getting heavy, but fought it when she was about to view one of her favorite scenes. Scarlet was in the huge formal dinning room going toe to toe with her jealous, intoxicated, husband Rhett Butler. She could follow the dialog almost word for word, but her sleepy eyes just won't let her get to the most delicious part.

Suddenly it wasn't Scarlet standing in the elaborately decorated entranceway with the enormous stairway leading up to the bedrooms. It wasn't Scarlet dressed in the lavish red velvet and white lace dressing gown and it wasn't Rhett Butler coming at her from the doorway of the dinning room. In fact the emotion of the scene had changed completely. The dialog continued but the words changed as Throttle swept her into his arms and his voice made her go limp. He captured her in an immobilizing stare and spoke, just above a whisper, "Do you want to keep me out tonight, Mrs. Butler? Would you lock that big door keeping me away, again?"

"Was he kidding?" She chuckled mentally. Scarlet might have had her issues with Rhett, but the scene was about to go into a serious rewrite. Before she could answer he held her tighter and began to bring her lips closer to his. Charley closed her eyes and just as their lips were about to touch….

"HEY CHARLEY GIRL!! WHERE'S THE EATS??!!" Vinnie bellowed bursting up the stairs and into her living room.

Half awake, the look she gave him was so scary he backed up, "What?? What'd I do? You said for us to come for lunch, didn't ya?"

"Nothing Vinnie. You didn't do a thing!" She sat up rubbing her eyes, trying to erase the, "I'm going to kill him, slowly and painfully," look she'd given.

"Hey, what cha watchin'?" He plopped down taking the remote and frowning at the two people standing in the darken doorway of the old movie Charley had been watching. Modo and Throttle soon joined him taking seats on what ever was left to sit on and giving Charley a pleasant greeting.

"What's the matter Charley, did we come too early?" Modo questioned wondering why she had such a sour look on her face.

"We can come back some other time, if you want?" Throttle offered, seeing that something was definitely wrong and that she seemed almost disappointed to see them.

"No, no I'm okay. I'll get lunch done in a sec." She said with a sad but concealing smile.

"Great, I could eat a least 10 dogs by myself, just call us when they're done?" Vinnie cheerfully said, plopping his feet up on the coffee table and quickly changing the channel to anything but what Charley was watching. Modo got comfortable and waited to see if he was going to let Vinnie choose what they were going to be viewing.

Charley started down the stairs when Throttle stood up and gently grabbed her hand, "You sure everything is okay, Charley?"

"Really, everything is fine. I guess I need to stop watching those old movies. They give you some pretty weird dreams." She felt her hand getting warming where he held it.

"Yeah, I guess they could. Umm… can I help you with anything?" He was practically blushing and he hadn't let go of her hand. In fact she could feel him delicately massaging it.

"You don't have to."

"I know, but I'd like to," he suddenly realized what he was doing and slowly let go of her hand.

"Thank you, Throttle. I couldn't think of anything nicer." She gave him the most inviting smile she could muster, tenderly reaching down to recapture his hand and guiding him to join her in the kitchen.

"Do you think he'll finally start somethin," Modo asked as he took the remote out of Vinnie's hand changing the channel from the motocross races to the wrestling channel.

"Looks like, Charley girl is gonna start a little somethin' of her own. Man, it sure took um long enough. It beats me that a guy who can take down a whole stink fish platoon, would be scared of telling, one little grease jockey, how he feels." Vinnie started to grab the remote from his bro, but a brawl would probably start and knowing Charley would have their tails if they messed up her living room, he slumped down in his seat and watched the wrestling matches.

The End