In response to the Great Romance Challenge set by the Third Biker Scholar. I decided to go for completely unconventional, not strictly 'romantic' and hopefully not OTT.
When there's no one else but your bro's, who else do you turn to when you're in need?
I don't own anything to do with the biker mice, much to my dismay.
Brief encounters
There were times like these that they were really glad Charley was out of town. She had been invited to speak at a mechanical engineering and weaponry conference in Detroit (because of the mice she had become almost famous in certain circles), but no sooner had she crossed the city limits all hell had let loose in her home town. If it hadn't been for her having the radio turned up to the max so she could sing along to her favourite tracks, she might have heard the loud explosions from behind her as she hit the I-90. Mercifully, she was so absorbed in her singing and driving she didn't even pause to look in the rear view mirror.
That morning had been unusually quiet for the three Martian mice. They had said their goodbyes to Charley the night before so that she could get an early night, and having only recently destroyed Limburger Tower they figured they could relax a little. A stack of dogs and crate of root beer, and a few hours on the couch in front of the TV watching the game, was all that featured on their agenda for the day.
It was just on 9am that it started. The first explosion rumbled through the city with such intensity that three furry bundles were shook from their bunks - or in Vinnie's case he tumbled head first out of his hammock, which came free from its attachments and trapped the startled mouse's legs and tail in a mass of blankets and netting.
"Aargh! Bro's, what's happening..? Urgh someone mind giving me a hand over here?"
Had it not been for the rude awakening Throttle and Modo might have just left their white-furred friend to struggle a while longer. However, a loud explosion at 9am in the morning was not something that could wait. Within minutes the bros were dressed, helmeted and shooting out of their stadium hideout on their bikes, rockets ablaze.
By the time they reached the source of the destruction it had already spread several blocks from the epicentre. Explosions were rippling out from where the first had been, taking out houses, offices, and just about every building and infrastructure in its wake. The mice were completely stunned by just how much wreckage there was, and with no obvious sign of Limburger or his goons anywhere they had but one choice: to find the bombs and take them out, preferably before the entire city became a giant crater.
"Jeez... how did fish-face manage to pull this one off without us even noticing?" gasped Vinnie as he ducked a huge block of asphalt hurtling inches from his head.
"I don't know, but we can go ask him after we've put a stop to this." Throttle paused. By the frightening speed this explosive circle was moving out, it might even be a case of IF they put a stop to it. "It won't be long before it reaches the Last Change Garage – and I don't want to be the one to explain to Charley how the whole world came crashing down the moment she left us to take care of things by ourselves."
Modo and Vinnie couldn't agree more.
Minute by minute the city was crumbling around them. The inhabitants of the doomed buildings didn't stand a chance of escaping, and the mice had no time to help them. They were racing against the clock to find whatever was controlling this deadly progression, and it was so urgent that even Modo couldn't take a detour to rescue a kid from falling debris.
"Noo!" He cried, realising that it was too late to save the child.
"Big Fella! Get out of there!" Throttle had noticed the ground beneath they grey mouse's motorcycle was sinking, probably due to an explosion below ground. With only a tail's breadth to spare Modo kicked his bike into gear and leapt with it to safety.
"Thank's bro..." Modo was still horrified about the child, but he had to keep moving. Throttle on the other hand hadn't budged.
"What gives, bro? – you're about to be flattened!" came the frantic yelling of Vinnie through the helmet intercom, "Get out of there!"
But Throttle had had a brainwave. Of course... it's coming from underneath the city.
"Subway system bros – that's where we will find it!".
Half an hour later, somewhere beneath the wreckage that was once a quiet residential area of Chicago, three mice issued a collective sigh of relief. Somehow Limburger had managed to install a complicated system of wiring under the city – primarily through the old subway system and city sewers – which connected an even more elaborate system of explosive charges above and below the surface. Using their bike scanners they had managed to locate the power source and control system behind the network, and before the explosive rampage had managed to reach the small garage their human friend owned, they had taken it out.
"Pheweee... that was too close. Way too close." Modo lay panting heavily next to his two exhausted friends.
"Nah, bro – that was way too much fun!" Vinnie was about to add 'can we do it again?" when he caught the disgusted and distinctly distressed glare from his grey-furred friend.
"Uh, sorry bro, I forgot..." Vinnie mumbled, looking at his feet.
"You got to give it to Limburger though, he really did pull out all the stops this time. I mean, even for him this was not only a complex plan but incredibly well executed... scary really". Throttle sighed. He really hoped Limburger didn't have any more tricks up his sleeve, this was supposed to be a relaxing weekend.
Without a tower to pull down in revenge, the three mice retreated back to the scoreboard to clean themselves up. They had plenty of cuts and grazes to tend to, and their bikes needed a good rub down and polish to get rid of the scratches the flying debris had given them.
By the evening, the three mice had calmed down enough to reflect on the day's events. It was clear to Throttle and Vinnie that Modo was devastated at all the lives lost that day, and wrecked with guilt over that poor child that he had left in the carnage.
"It's not your fault, big fella" Throttle sat down beside him on the old brown couch and gently stroked his sorrowful bro's head. "If we had tried to save all those people then a lot more people would have died as a result, you know that. Sometimes we have to make tough choices".
Modo's head drooped, the look of misery and pain on his face so terrible that his friends could almost feel it inside themselves. Their own personal guilt was bad enough.
Vinnie sat down on Modo's other side and offered him a consolatory root beer, which was waved away. Changing tack, the white mouse snatched up the remote control and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels to find something that might cheer up his gloomy friend. It wasn't working though, because a flash of red from Modo's eye accompanying a low growl was the only warning before the remote was vaporised by the laser cannon in his arm. Vinnie got the hint.
For a while the three of them sat silently together. Their thoughts were all centred around that morning. All the lives that had been lost. All that destruction to property. And no Limburger anywhere to beat to pulp. It had been so close this time, so very, very close. What if it had reached the garage before they could stop it? What if the first explosion had been in the stadium? What if Charley had been caught in one of the blasts..? They would never be able to forgive themselves.
Even after the three mice retired to their beds, the thoughts kept on at them relentlessly. None of the three could sleep, the images of the day flashing through their thoughts, intermingled with memories from earlier battles, and punctuated by flashbacks from the other lives they hadn't been able to save: the ones back home; their comrades... friends... families. Partners.
"Umm... Modo... are you awake?" Vinnie was crouched down by the side of the grey mouse's bed, gently tapping his muscular shoulder. He hadn't had the time or energy to fix his hammock, and so had curled up on the couch to sleep. The top bunk was also in need of repair after Modo had tumbled so violently out of it, so he was sleeping in the spare that Charley normally used. As she had kitted out their hangout with furniture, she had insisted her bed was a queen-size (But sweetheart – what do you need all that space for? Vinnie had grumbled jealously, despite electing for the hammock).
"Modo?"
"Yeah Vinnie, what is it?" The grey mouse groaned and rolled over on the large mattress to see what his smaller friend was still doing up.
"I can't sleep..." He whispered, his eyed wide. "Bad dreams..."
"Join the club." Modo rolled back over again, hoping the white mouse would leave him alone.
"Bro..." Vinnie wasn't going to go away that easily.
"Urgh what IS it Vinnie, i'm trying to sleep!"
"Modo... can I sleep with you tonight?"
For a moment Modo was wondering if he was still dreaming. Did his younger cousin just ask to sleep with him? Was he imagining that slight tremble of fear in the mouse's plea? Vinnie, scared? This must be another nightmare... thought Modo as he turned over again.
"Pinch me"
"Err.. what...? Why?" Vinnie looked at the sleepy mouse incredulously.
"Pinch me dammit!" Vinnie obeyed, though still confused.
"Yeowch! Not THAT hard... jeez..." Damn it's not a dream. "Alright, alright you can sleep with me, just the once". Modo rolled his eyes as a white bundle of fur not only leapt under the covers beside him, but promptly buried his face into the soft fur on Modo's muscular chest. Modo lay there for a moment, unsure of what to do now. He could feel a tail that was not his own curling gently around his thigh, and soon the white mouse was snuggled contentedly into Modo's left side.
Minutes passed, and eventually Vinnie's breathing slowed to a steady, tidal rhythm. Modo lay on the bed not daring to move a muscle. How the hell am I meant to sleep like this? thought the mouse in despair, but even so his own eyelids were heavy. The warmth of the body next to him was actually quite calming.
"Modo... Modo are you awake bro?"
This time it was Throttle at Modo's bedside. He had lain in his usual lower-bunk tossing and turning for the past few hours, waking sporadically when the nightmares became too vivid, or too terrible to bear. He desperately needed comfort, and with Charley out of town and his old flame Carbine several million miles away back on Mars, there was only one source of solace in this entire world. His friends.
He hadn't realised that Vinnie had left the couch and joined Modo in the queen-size before him, but as Modo grumpily opened his eyes once more and resigned himself to the inevitable, he lifted the bedding and revealed the sleeping white form at his side. Throttle was taken aback by this development, but the aching inside of him for the feel of another's body was too great.
"Shift up bro, its cold out here..." Throttle whispered, trying to make light of the odd situation that was unfolding.
Modo used his body to shove the unconscious Vinnie to the far side of the bed, making just enough room for the third of the giant mice to get under the covers. I knew Charley should have gone for the king-size.
"Comfy, bro?" the sardonic edge to his voice was unmistakeable.
"Yeah, thanks. Bad dreams, you know..?"
"Yeah, I know. Him and me too." Modo glanced to his left and then back at his tan-furred friend. Throttle was removing his field specs, and once they were safely on the little table that Charley kept by the bedside, he turned to his larger friend.
"Err... do you mind.. you know.. if I..." he hadn't even finished the question when Modo lifted his mechanical arm to allow Throttle's anxious body to move in closer. The tan mouse nuzzled Modo's supple pelt with his short snout, inhaling deeply the rich scent it held – a familiar, soothing smell that calmed the frayed nerves and relaxed the tense muscles in his troubled body. Modo felt a second tail coiling itself around his legs. Sighing, the placid grey giant wrapped his arms around his two best friends, holding them near to his body, allowing them to use his warmth and the smooth pulsing of his heart to guide them deeply into sleep.
It had been a long time since he had held anyone, and the feel of the two soft-furred mice against him was not only comforting, but verging on pleasurable. There were stirrings of some very strange feelings in the grey mouse's body, and almost out of instinct he raised his head and bent his face close to the sleeping mouse on his left. For a second he paused, his snout inches from the large, white ear. And then he pushed a little closer, and delicately licked the fur between the top of the lobe and where it joined the rest of the head.
Vinnie shifted slightly, giving out a soft moan.
Modo continued to use his long, pink tongue to caress the ear of the white mouse, before moving down past the fleshy red antenna and onwards to the furry cheek that was exposed to him. He hovered there for a while, alternating between nuzzling Vinnie's face and nibbling the fur with his large front teeth, and licking. Modo shifted himself slightly so that he could reach even further down the mouse's face. When he reached the lips of his sleeping friend he lingered a moment, before straightening himself up again, yawning. Vinnie pressed his (now slightly wet) face harder into Modo's pectoral muscles, and curled his small fingers around a tuft of grey pelt.
Damn that feels good.
Trying hard to ignore the somersaults in his lower abdomen, Modo turned himself to the tan-furred head cradled in his right armpit. Throttle apparently wasn't bothered that his skull was now resting on metal rather than flesh.
The grey mouse shifted himself slightly again, pulling Throttle slightly closer to his body so that he could reach him. As with Vinnie, he used his tongue and teeth to caress the tan-coloured ear and face, and moved slowly further and further down until he reached Throttle's lips. Unlike Vinnie, Throttle always made a point of brushing his teeth before bed (Charley had told them that Earth dentists used drills to deal with bad teeth. She conveniently forgot to mention the use of anaesthetic during such a procedure), and the slight minty smell of his breath encouraged Modo to breach the furry lips with his tongue. His mouth tasted minty too.
Modo lay back on his pillow again, groaning softly. Throttle had wound his tail tighter and tighter around the mouse's leg with each brush of his tongue, and now that the licking had stopped the tail loosened slightly. Throttle pushed his nose into Modo's grey fur, and began to nibble it just a little.
"Oh!" Modo gasped under his breath. If he wasn't careful, Throttle was going to get a lot more than he bargained for when he clambered into the large double bed that night.
Eventually Throttle stopped his own caress and settled back into sleeping. Modo almost felt disappointed. A small part of his brain had decided to hell with it that these were his two best friends, his best male friends. He kept thinking of that kid who had been buried under rubble, of the women screaming from the windows of the buildings as they collapsed. Of his friends crying for his help when the Plutarkians razed his village to the ground. Of his family, whom he couldn't even bury, their bodies disintegrated when the bombs hit.
Life was too short, he thought, to be worried about trivial things. If there was no one left in the world but his bro's, who was to say he couldn't give comfort to them – or find comfort in their embrace?
He sighed. Right now they might as well have been the last living beings in the world, he felt so alone. He looked down at his sleeping friends again, both of whom were simultaneously cuddling against his body as if they were pups, and he their mother. He smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be the first and last time they shared a bed after all.
Charley returned to Chicago two days later, completely oblivious to the mayhem that had gone on in her absence. She arrived to a scene of utmost devastation, despair and desolation. An entire section of the city was closed whilst the emergency crews battled to dampen fires and shore up weakened structures. Dog teams searched for survivors in the rubble, and ambulances waited on standby for the inevitable casualties.
Charley was horror-struck, and swallowing back tears she drove to her garage, breaking every speed limit in her path and crossing her heart that her dearest friends were not included amongst the victims. Seeing her building intact and untouched, she belted through the door at high speed, and promptly collided with three hulking forms.
"Thank goodness you're ok – WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?" She didn't meant to yell, but she was torn between relief and annoyance that something so monumental had happened in her absence.
"Oh, you know babe, the usual" replied Throttle calmly. He went on to explain about the bombs, and their eventually stopping the spread of destruction. Vinnie punctuated the story with his own (much inflated) acts of heroism (with Modo and Throttle rolling their eyes in exasperation). "Honestly, anyone would think he saved the city by himself!" Modo growled, curtailing yet another exaggerated version of events.
Whilst Charley was pleased they were still in one piece, she did point out that there was still work to be done out there; and despite protests that they had already saved the city, they finally gave in when she reminded them there were people still trapped in the wreckage.
After a long day helping the emergency crews, the three mice returned to their scoreboard hideaway feeling much more upbeat than the previous two nights. Vinnie repaired his hammock, and Modo the top bunk, and the three mice settled down to sleep in their separate beds. Each of them lay there for some time, reflecting once more on the day's events, and those of the previous two. None of them were able to forget that night, when each in their distress had found comfort in the other's arms. And the next night when they had done the same again, unashamed of the strangeness of the bond between them. Tonight they were at peace, but neither of the three mice could help wondering what the others were thinking, or if they too yearned for just one more night in each other's tender embrace.