*Author's Note(s)*I know this is a little belated for Valentine's Day, but my life has been hectic ., Sorry! The song I use at the beginning is "Bed of Roses" by Bon Jovi, and if you start the song as soon as Sweet Georgie Brown stops talking, you'll time it just right! (At least, that's the idea, if you read at the same pace I do, if not, just blag it!) ;) Firstly, this is my first, of hopefully many, fanfics. Secondly, I'm Northern English, so if there's any British slang words in there you need to have clarified, let me know, but care has been taken to ensure the stories that are American stay that way. Enjoy! Please review and comment. If you have any criticism, please make it constructive! Rated T for some mild cussing, nothing strong, but T to be on the safe side.
DISCLAIMER: I unfortunately do not own any of the characters or fictitious locations from 'The Biker Mice from Mars', they all belong to Rick Ungar. Lyrics from Bed of Roses belong to the boys of Bon Jovi.
"Heeeeeey there, Chi-Town! Greetings to you on this beautiful spring morning! We're kicking off Valentine's with a few classic ballads, so grab that special gal or guy and have yourself a special little dance!" While listening to Sweet Georgie Brown's broadcast that morning, Throttle slipped his specs down and gazed towards the radio in puzzlement. "Valentine's?" What's that?" he wondered out loud. Modo cocked his ears and listened to the slow riffs of a rock ballad flowing from the wireless next to their bikes. "I don't know, bro." he replied, "Whatever it is, it sounds romantic." He added. "You mean mushy!" yelled Vinnie. Modo glared up at Vinnie, who was smirking and leaning on the wooden barrier at the top level platform of the scoreboard. "I mean romantic, Vinnie. You know, when you got a special place for a special someone?" Throttle gave a derivative snort. "C'mon, Modo, Vincent doesn't do romance!" he chuckled. Vinnie scowled down at them "Hey! Don't you know who I am? The ladies love me!" he retorted. Throttle chuckled again. "Oh yeah, they're beatin' down your door, Vincent!" he replied sarcastically. "If we were on Mars they would be! Here they're a different species! I don't socialize with the girls on this planet!"
He jumped down the thirty foot drop to the bottom of the scoreboard to join Throttle and Modo. "If I did, they'd be begging me to be their Macho Mouse!" he replied arrogantly, flexing his biceps for good measure. Throttle replaced his field specs and sat up to regard Vinnie closer. "Oh yeah? Well what about Charley? She's a human female, and she ain't beatin' down your door!" he injected slyly. Vinnie opened his mouth, but before he could bring up a retort, the door to the scoreboard closed firmly. "Who am I beating down, now?" asked a soft voice.
Turning round, they saw Charley walking in with a shopping bag clutched to her chest. "Nothin'. Vincent here was just giving us a display of his big head." Throttle chuckled. "Oh. All normal, then." She replied with a smile. Vinnie glared at her. "Ha ha (!) Listen, don't encourage them, Charley-Girl!" "When it comes to you, Vinnie, encouragement is the last thing you need!" she giggled. The soft sound rippled over Vinnie like ruffles in his fur, making him stop for a second. Just when he was letting himself relax around her, something about her would catch him off guard. Her laughter, her scent, her eyes…
'Throttle and Modo have no idea just how much I want her to like me.' Vinnie thought jadedly, until her voice brought him out of his reverie. "I was doing my groceries and I just came over to drop off some dogs and root beer. Thought you guys might be running low." She said and Throttle nodded in reply. "You thought right, babe. Thanks, Charley." He said gratefully. "Uh, Charley- Ma'Am, what exactly is all of this Valentine's stuff?" Modo asked. Charley looked up from the table she had dropped the bag down onto. "Valentine's Day? Well, it's kind of another human holiday." She replied. "Oh, you mean like Halloween and Christmas?" Throttle added. "Kind of, yeah. It's a day devoted to showing somebody you love just how much you care about them." She explained. "Oh, like your family and friends?" Modo asked and Charley hesitated for a second. "Well, I suppose some people would choose friends or family, but it's mainly 'Love' love, like between boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives, or fiancés." She clarified.
There was an awkward silence following her explanation. "But, if you love someone, shouldn't you be showin' it every day?" Modo asked. Charley laughed "Yeah, you should! Personally, I think Valentine's Day is just another opportunity to spend ridiculous amounts of money on stuff you don't even need." She said with a ghost of a smile. "What about people who ain't married and stuff? Don't they feel left out?" Modo asked. "Well, not necessarily, I mean, if you have a special someone, and you want to tell them how you feel, and ask them out, then, theoretically, Valentine's Day is perfect for it." Vinnie felt himself being drawn in by what she was saying. "Well, what if you have a special someone, but you're too shy to tell them?" Vinnie asked abruptly. All three heads turned to him, expressing varying amounts of surprise. "Well, I guess, you get them a Valentine, which can be anything, really. Traditional stuff is like cards, chocolates and flowers, or you can get them a little something that you think they'd like, and you can either give it to them outright, or leave it in secret, and hide your identity." Charley summarized. "Hide your identity?" Throttle repeated, "How do they know who it's from, then?" "You're meant to leave little clues, like from your favourite Postman, or window cleaner, or whatever. Little hints and clues like that." "When was the last time you got a Valentine, Charley-Ma'Am?" asked Modo.
Charley's smile vanished and she was quiet for a little while. "The night Jack proposed to me." She said simply. "My Valentine that night was a diamond ring that was meant to be forever. A year to the day we were meant to marry, but it didn't go quite to plan. So technically, my last Valentine was supposed to be a marriage, but it turned out to be nothin' but heartache." She added quietly. Within moments, she was back there, in her memory, on that Valentine's morning. Dressed in a beautiful satin gown that simmered and rippled and slid around her as she moved, with her auburn locks falling in long soft waves, believing that she would leave that church to start a new life with the man she loved. The reality had hit her like a kick in the gut, when Jack hadn't turned up, and a messenger boy had delivered her the bad news, that Jack McCyber, who she'd been willing to give her life, her love, her soul, had changed his mind, and had already rode off to pastures new. She'd cried for days, before resolving that weeping didn't achieve anything and that she'd get on with her life and waste no more tears.
The deafening silence wore on, the mice not knowing quite what to say, before Modo found his voice. "Gee, Charley-Ma'Am, I didn't mean to bring up no bad memories or nothin'…" he stammered. Charley smiled brightly at him, a little too brightly, for their liking. "Its okay, Modo, I'm fine to talk about it. Besides, we've moved on, Jack and I still keep in touch, he's got a new fiancé now, and I've got my Garage, she's really the only one I need." Charley walked away from the table towards the door, stroking an ear of each mouse as she went. "And I've got you three furballs! You're certainly enough to keep me on my toes!" she said, with a laugh that, somehow, sounded strained, but before either one of them could say anything she was at the door, grasping the handle. "Now then, gentlemen, I have a truck to fix, and a garage that needs my attention." She opened the door before turning back to wink at them. "See you later!" and with that, she was gone, the sound of the door closing like a gunshot in the silence she left behind. "Well, I guess this Valentine's stuff isn't for everybody." Throttle said with a sigh. "Poor Charley-Girl." He added.
Vinnie felt hot anger course through his body. He hadn't missed that hurt look on her face or the pain in her eyes when she recalled what that Asphalt Asshole had done to her. Vinnie felt like pounding his face to dust for treating her like that. 'That's why she hadn't said anything about Valentine's Day to us', he thought, 'She's trying to forget because every year it must bring all those bad memories back' Vinnie thought for a second, and, like a light being switched on, he had an idea. 'Maybe, if she makes new memories, happy ones, Valentine's Day won't seem so painful anymore!' "I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses, for tonight I'll sleep on a bed of nails" Jon Bovi's swelling chorus filtered into Vinnie's trance, capturing his attention. 'Charley Girl certainly deserves a Bed of Roses, and not a heap of heartache!' he thought heatedly. Vinnie grabbed his helmet and strode towards his bike. "And where are you going, Vincent?" Throttle asked. "There's something I need to do, bros. Don't worry, I'll be back pronto!" And without a second glance, Vinnie had rode off out of the scoreboard and was headed downtown. Modo and Throttle watched him go in awe. "Now, what do you suppose has his tail in a knot?" Modo asked incredulously.
Charley stood up and stretched the kinks out of her back. Lying on a cold concrete floor fiddling with a busted exaust line was not as much fun as it used to be. 'God, I'm getting old!' she thought bitterly. Well, she actually wasn't that old, but running a Garage by yourself wasn't an easy lifestyle choice, so a few dents in the bumper were to be expected, in all honesty. She glanced at the clock on the wall, which told her it was almost 9pm. She'd made great progress today, completing that damned paperwork she'd been putting off; cleaning the garage to within an inch of its life, as well as the apartment upstairs, and now she'd finished this damned truck, which had been the real thief of her time. Why did people insist on having these old vintage motors, if they weren't kept in good condition? They're hard to maintain if you just let them rust!
Stifling a yawn, she walked over to the Garage door, intending to pull it down and shut up for the night. After that, well, a long hot soak in the tub and maybe a movie before turning in. Her attention however, was deflected when she spied something red outside on the concrete. Walking out into the night, she discovered it was a small heap of red rose petals. Just sat in a bundle outside the Last Chance. 'That's odd,' she thought, looking around, she saw another pile, a good five feet from the first one. This pile, however, broke into a trail of petals, indicating that she should follow them. 'Who's the Smart-Ass who'd thought up this Valentine's cliché?' she thought, debating whether or not just to go back inside, but curiosity quickly got the better of her, and she slowly followed the small trail. It took her to the alley around the back of her Garage, and led up onto her Fire escape ladder that led all the way up to the roof. When she got there, she gasped at what she saw.
A small table sat in the middle of the roof, surrounded and lit up by what must have been hundreds of candles, some had blown out, but there was enough to bathe the table in a soft, golden glow, which danced passionately as the tiny flames flickered in the cool breeze. Sat on top of the table, was a huge bouquet of roses; red, white and pink. Walking up to them, she saw a folded note wedged underneath the vase. With a huge irresistible smile, she slipped the note out, unfolded it and began reading the words scrawled there;
Dear Charley Girl, Happy Valentine's Day! I hope that this will make you happy, and leave you amazing memories in place of your old ones. I know I always act like an arrogant teenager, and even though I flirt with you, I never really tell you just how much I actually like you. I love how you're so feisty, never backing down from any challenge. I love how you're such a no-holds barred tomboy, yet you still look and act so feminine. You're so beautiful and courageous, there's nobody like you in the whole universe, (believe me I know!) You really do deserve the very best, Sweetheart. Thank You for being here every single time, and taking care of your Macho Mice! Love Always, your Not-So-Secret Admirer. Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she held the note to her heart and allowed a few joyful tears to slip down her cheeks. There were enough hints in that message to let her know exactly who was behind this thoughtful act, and even though they probably wouldn't act on it, she would never forget this moment. The moment when Vincent Van Wham proved himself to be more worthy than any man she had ever known.
~* The End *~