It was just hot enough that, without her lollipop-stick fan and a simple personal adaptation, Gadget wouldn't have been able to work on the repairs to the Rangerwing. With those, however, she could manage a decent pace with only minimal pauses to sip a cooling drink and stand close enough to the fan for the air to ruffle pleasantly through her fur.

Unfortunately, she'd just run out of cooling drink, so with a sigh the mouse headed for the kitchen to resupply. The other four were all still where she'd last seen them, draped listlessly around the main lounge area. Monty dozed in an armchair, his jacket and pullover swapped for a faintly cheese-patterned shirt with most of the buttons undone; on his belly Zipper rested. Dale and Chip took up the couch, the one with the remote in paw, languidly flicking through the channels, the other with his nose buried in his Sureluck Jones collection; they'd foregone their shirt and bomber jacket, respectively.

None of them seemed to notice Gadget, so she left them be, moving into the kitchen. It took only a moment to refill her drink, and after a few sips she re-entered the lounge, to find an entirely different scene than the one she'd left. All four of the others were staring awkwardly at her, Dale in particular looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Gadget sighed. "Golly, guys, two of you are dressed...or not dressed, actually...the same, and the other one's barely wearing a shirt. Why's it so different for me?"

"Because you, uh, you have...b...b..." Dale stuttered.

"Really, Dale? You don't react like this with Foxglove."

"Gadget, luv, you..." Monterey ventured, awkwardly. "You really can't be walkin' around..."

"Why not, Monty?" Incredulity and even a spark of anger flared, then the mouse sagged. "I thought I could trust you guys..."

"You can, Gadget," Chip hastened to reassure her, "but..."

Dale sniggered. Chip smacked him, but he wasn't deterred. "But you got a rude word printed on your butt!"

Gadget blinked, confounded. She twisted herself to look, and indeed could just spot the letters, written in grease, across her rear. She went bright red. "Oh, golly gosh, I'm sorry! I'd no idea..." She rushed to the bathroom. "I-I'll be right back..."

Fortunately it wasn't hard to wash off, and when she returned to the lounge, her backside a little damp still, she found the boys lined up to greet her.

Monterey beamed. "Now, that's the Gadget we all know and love!"

The mouse reddened a little again. "Aw, guys..."

Chip was in Detective Mode, his eyes sharp. "You wouldn't happen to have leant back against that big, dirty nut you found, would you?"

Gadget's head cocked. "You know, I did accidentally back into it when stepping back for a full view of the Rangerwing."

"Wait, how...?" Dale's eyes abruptly widened. "Ohhhhh..." He let out a volley of tittering giggles. "Touched it in just the wrong place!"

"Seems so." Gadget chuckled wryly. "Gotta look where I'm reversing in future, I guess!"

"Definitely!" Monty took up and patted her paw. "And just to be clear about this, luv, we don't care what you do or don't wear, especially on a day as bloomin' hot as this one!"

Chip and Dale nodded, and Zipper buzzed, vigorous agreement.

The mouse laughed louder, smiling, and hugged each of them in turn, getting warm squeezes back. "Thanks, guys."

"Want to join us?" Chip offered. "Take a proper break? You've been working for hours."

Gadget didn't have to think long. "All right. Just give me a moment to tidy up."

She scurried back to her workshop, her attention immediately drawn to the greasy nut half her height standing across from the Rangerwing, the phrase DESCRAPEL INC embossed on it in large capitals. She rolled her eyes with another laugh, quickly tidied her tools, made very sure no more grease had gotten on her fur, then returned to the others.

Monterey was back in his armchair, Zipper resting on his belly, whilst the chipmunks were sitting on the couch, a space between them. She settled into it, finding it to be quite a snug fit, their flanks brushing, fur blending, but didn't mind at all.

She gave them firm looks. "Promise you won't squabble over me?"

Both held up a paw, and replied in neat unison. "We swear!"

"Thank you!" She nosed their cheeks.

Both blushed, drawing a guffaw from Monty. "I don't think those two could last five bloomin' minutes without squabblin'."

The chipmunks glared at him, then both curled an arm lightly around Gadget's waist.

"Movie?" asked Dale, politely.

"Or TV?" enquired Chip, civilly.

The mouse let free a long and satisfied sigh, her paws resting on their legs. "Honestly, I'm fine either way. You choose."

The chipmunks exchanged looks, while Monterey watched with great anticipation. After a moment they nodded, and spoke in unison again.

"Movie it is."

Monty blinked. "Crikey..."

Gadget giggled.