Chrome in the Morning Light
Abby Ebon
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
Disclaimer; I do not own Minutemen; more to the point I do not own Charlie, Zeke, or even Virgil...-pouts-
Warnings; Zeke and Virgil make a cute couple – simply because they are so adorably awkward around each other…-coughs- This is a "my version" of the original Disney movie "Minutemen", and it is, of course, going to be a slash story between Virgil and Zeke...
O.o.O.o.O.o.O
"Hey, great bike, lots of shinny chrome gear things…" Virgil sometimes wished Charlie knew when to shut that genius mouth of his – this was one of those many, many, times. Virgil, upon waking up this morning had had no inclination to be beat up before school – but Charlie just had to open his mouth, and tell the freakishly tall school outcast that he wasn't allowed to ride a motorcycle on the pavement. Dressed in black leather, in a black helmet, it all managed to make a very intimidating sight – not that he needed any help with that annoyingly natural tendency to tower over most of the student body.
Virgil's mouth went dry as he lifted his helmet, his brown hair was messy – at least he wasn't "perfect" enough not to get helmet hair, Virgil had a moment to muse on that fact before startlingly blue eyes met his own. There was something frightening about being caught in that gaze, something that made Virgil's senses sing out in alarm, and something that froze him to the pavement.
That was, until he felt Charlie's slick tongue lick at his palm. Virgil remembered then why he had put it over Charlie's mouth to stop the younger boy from talking the blue eyed motorcyclist into deciding to beat them, or otherwise hurt them. Being a senior nerd didn't stop the bullies; Virgil had learned that the hard way.
Aware now of the blue eyed motorcyclist staring them down, Virgil was quick to push Charlie away from him, and into the school, where their first class was starting.
It was Virgil's first class, and the blue eyed motorcyclist was in it – he didn't seem at all interested in history, in fact, if Virgil were perfectly honest, he seemed quite bored with it. Bored enough to be scribbling his name onto his folder, with ever increasing force – Virgil wondered if he often broke pencils.
Even so, Virgil couldn't help himself as his curiosity drove him to lean over to glance at the other boy's name.
Zeke.
In all truthfulness it fit the blue eyed motorcyclist to a T.
In perfect Charlie-ness, as in, the worst and most embarrassing timing ever. His friend, a naturally short fourteen year old boy genius arrived to announce to the class that Virgil Fox was needed. Not for anything, oh no – but for Science Club. It was a perfectly mortifyingly way to start the day, and despite is half-joking attempt to make an excuse for his own absence in a class he was quite obviously attending – it, obviously enough, fooled no one.
So, Virgil left, trying not to read too much into the, by now, familiar feeling of being stared at, one that only the blue eyed motorcyclist "Zeke" could invoke.
Virgil would always remember the first day of senior year, mostly because of Charlie. As they walked down the hall to the science classroom, he had no idea that he would – by the end of the week- be time traveling. Charlie created the blueprints, he even perfected the theory – Virgil did not question the hows and whys of it.
After three years of dealing with a boy genius inventor, Virgil knew that asking questions would only result in confusion. Oh, Charlie tried any which way to explain, but something within Virgil prevented him from grasping the whole of it, so he hugged the fringes and soothed himself with the knowledge that most adults would not understand Charlie's genius. He was only a senior nerd seeking to become a "game show host" – or so he told everyone who bothered to show the faintest interest.
In truth, he knew it was very likely he would end up "translating" Charlie-speak for the rest of the non-genius' of the world. Not that he minded that, Charlie was a fourteen year old senior, he had more colleges begging him to go to them, then most dogs had fleas – all of them throwing and waving so many grants and scholarships about that it was ridiculous.
No matter that Charlie tried to hide their existence, Virgil knew they were there – and knew that if Charlie put a little effort in, he could patent most of his inventions. Charlie had once told him he'd rather "be a kid while it lasted" and that had been the end of it.
But time-travel was something Charlie couldn't just come out of the blue with, and Virgil slowly began to understand that as the week went on – Charlie needed him for a change. Though not for just anything, oh no, his genius friend needed him to find a "machine guy", and Virgil knew the perfect one.
Zeke. The guy scared the crap out of Virgil, but he was perfect – a genius of a different sort. Who, at only eighteen, was already working at a junk yard – there was no other senior who fit and filled out their needs better then Zeke. The only real problem was convincing Charlie – and if Virgil could manage that, he knew could manage to convince Zeke to at least hear them out.
The opportunity came up on Friday, it was after school for Charlie and Virgil, but Zeke's metal shop class was still going strong. Virgil was making a fool of himself, if only to get Charlie to agree. For a genius, Charlie got pretty embarrassed for Virgil's sake when Virgil acted "funny" to tease Charlie. It usually worked out alright though, with Charlie agreeing with Virgil's side of things (Charlie had after all agreed that if Virgil found a mechanic to build his time machine, Virgil would have the choice to what they would do the first time using it).
Yet, Virgil found himself baffled at how he had gotten in this position; with Zeke staring down at them, looking very much like he'd like to hurt Virgil very badly. That was understandable, Virgil supposed, Zeke had every right to want to hurt Virgil after hearing Virgil "making fun" of monster cars that Zeke supposedly built.
But, Zeke's look said it all – he wanted answers. Virgil felt his stomach twist uncomfortably as he wondered what he was going to say this time to get them out of a beating – and somehow, likely by miracle, get Zeke to at least look at the blue prints of Charlie's time machine.
"Zeke, ah – well, that is if your not doing anything this weekend, could you, ah, come by my house to look at something Charlie thinks might work? We'd, ah, really like your help with it…" The words just sort of fell out of his mouth, and slowly Zeke's mask of scary-and-going-to-hurt-someone, fell away as he, very slowly, nodded.
"Great! Ah, this is the address." Virgil shakily passed him the pre-printed card with his name, address, and phone number – the reverse had the same for Charlie. Virgil tried not to show it that he left more then nervous when Zeke's fingers brushed his as the taller teenager took the card with a small grunt. Virgil had a moment to wish Zeke had spoken, or even that he'd worn full gloves, those with the fingers, rather then the fingerless leather gloves that fitted his motorcyclist persona. Feeling Zeke's warm fingers brush his sent pleasant tingles along his spine, and stole his breath, loath as he was to admit it.
Zeke only turned around, and went back to work on whatever metal masterpiece he had been working on. It felt oddly anticlimactic.
Saturday morning, bright and early, Charlie arrived with his black and white cat, "Albert Feline-stein", cuddled in his arms. When Virgil dared question it, Charlie's answer was both simple and annoying, his emotion-reading machine had told him – though his cat's meows – that kitty had wanted to visit Virgil and intestate Zeke.
Virgil, confronted with such logic, could only shrug and hope for the best.
Zeke arrived at a more decent hour – 11AM. Sitting in armchairs spread around in Virgil's front room was just as awkward as when Zeke had confronted them the other day. The blueprints were arranged in front of him; spread over the cluttered table, Zeke didn't seem to care as he chewed on his pen and studied the plans.
Though, there was something did seem to be distracting him. Staring at him with a intensity that made Virgil wonder if there was something to Charlie's new-found invention to interpret his cat's meows, Albert Feline-stein watched Zeke with wide golden eyes.
"Your cat," Zeke began in a soft tone that rumbled out of his chest like a finely tuned engine, "is freaking me out." Those were the first words Zeke ever spoke, and they were directed at Virgil with an intensity that made Virgil feel sympathy for deer caught in the dead of night in hunter's headlights. The utter weakness of terror fell back as Virgil's ego and natural inclination to be truthful spurned him on to speak.
"It's not my cat – it's his." Thankfully, Charlie seemed perfectly willing to become the center of Zeke's attention, straitening in his seat as he spoke. Though all that same, Virgil felt guilty for putting his younger friend on the spot like he had.
"His name is Albert Feline-stein." Virgil only wished Charlie hadn't said something that could be considered "annoying". Form the roll of Zeke's eyes, the link between Albert Einstein and "Albert Feline-stein" had not gone unnoticed, and was very likely unappreciated.
"That's the dumbest name for a cat I've ever heard of." Zeke murmured a little too bluntly from Charlie's hurt expression, which, he didn't see as he looked back to the blueprints.
"C-couldn't agree more, Zeke, Zeke-ster," Zeke looked slowly up at him, cold blue eyes glaring into his own – it was then that Virgil decided to quickly make amends, no matter that he had practically dug his own grave trying to make Charlie feel a little better, "yeah – no, I hate – I hate when people bend names too, like, Virgil-loss, c'mon people it's Virgil…I'm going to stop talking now."
It was then his younger sister chose then to descend the stairs dressed in red dress with a fluffy red feather-thing wrapped around her shoulders. Virgil honestly wouldn't put it past her to purposefully listen from the top of the stairs for when it was the most opportune time to embarrass him in her search for "older, cuter, high school boys" – in which Virgil was a constant disappointment for her, as he was, after all a senior nerd – or as good as.
After successfully getting rid of her – Zeke making some sarcastic comment to which Virgil could only reply with "yeah", Zeke showed the first hint of being something other then a freakishly tall loner with a gift for mechanics. He understood Charlie's blueprints – after only half an hour, he knew exactly what he was dealing with building.
More importantly, he thought it was possible to build it. At first glance – which was better luck then Charlie had first had convincing Virgil. Zeke didn't need convincing – he knew what it was, and he knew how – it was all Charlie needed to be encouraged.
When Zeke said he'd do it, he reached for the bean dip, licking it of his fingers, leaving a smear on his lip. The sight of it sent pleasant chills running over Virgil's skin. Charlie was a neat freak, and even when it concerned people, he just couldn't help himself. Boldly, he reached over with a napkin to wipe at the edge of Zeke's lips.
Charlie's reaching hand was caught in a crushing grip and a glare that would have paused even the devil in his tracks, it stole Virgil's breath to see Zeke threatening his friend – he didn't hear the threat, swallowing down his fear – and something else that Virgil did not want to dwell on as he decided to say something, anything, before Zeke had a chance to decline to build Charlie's time machine.
"Why- why don't we go to the junkyard to see what we'll need?" At Virgil's suggestion, Zeke looked to him, frowning for only a minute or two, before nodding, something alike respect in his eyes.
That was how Virgil found himself in the junkyard with Charlie and Zeke for most of that weekend. Often, Virgil would find himself glancing at Zeke out of the corner of his eyes, the taller teen was found mostly on his back beneath some metal-thingy, that if it dropped, Virgil had no doubt would hurt Zeke very badly – if not outright cripple him.
He found himself worrying over the other boy, and that was what Virgil found he was good at – worrying. If Zeke and Charlie talked about design and size, Virgil would be lost. He felt like a tag-along, though Charlie insisted Virgil be around when he dealt with Zeke.
Then, Sunday, Zeke asked what they were going to use the machine for first – and Virgil had the perfect idea – one that would ensure Zeke pay enough attention to him that was not negative – enough attention to see that Virgil was not just after wealth and popularity.
The Lottery.
It had been a stork of genius, and even though Charlie protested at first, he let Virgil have his way.
Monday came, and with it Charlie's plan to get a room for a "club" – one with enough room to build their machine, and yet out of the way so that people wouldn't go out of their way to find it and harass them.
Zeke tagged along when they confronted the vice principal at lunch. But it was Virgil who had had the wisdom to carry quarters, knowing that the nearly bald man craved junk food, and dollars rarely worked on dollar machines.
So, a deal was struck – their club, the "Back to the Future" fan club, was formed. They even got the room Charlie had wanted – room 77. A bomb shelter beneath the football field – one with a metal and cement shelter door with one of those bar-wheel locks, which Virgil didn't really like the look of.
It was an utter mess though; they spent two weeks alone cleaning it up – finally in the second month of the school year, they started building it. A quick week later and it was built, planned by Charlie, put together by Zeke's hands, and painted by Virgil. All of them played a part in the stolen parts though.
Charlie sat in front of the computer – in front of them a contraption that looked to have had the former life of a projector and a microwave – a ramp descended to where Charlie predicted the vortex would open up at.
When the vortex opened, it sung eerily in the once silent air, a cone shape spinning upward, filled with blue light and whites and other colors less distinguishable. None of them wanted to go into it – to be the "test rat", for until then the realization of what they had intended to do hadn't hit them. None the less, they had done it – three high school seniors had done the impossible – they'd built themselves a time machine that could go back twenty-seven hours.
Suddenly that "weak" two-day gap seemed touchable, doable – all that remained was to test it.
It likely would have remained untested, if not for Albert Feline-stein's sudden meow. They couldn't test it on a person – but, maybe, they could test it on Charlie's cat, only, Charlie would never approve. Quietly, Virgil nudged Zeke in the shoulder, nodding to Charlie's cat, Zeke gave him one of those shy grins that Virgil had lately found himself craving and they left Charlie to rant aloud as they went to the cat.
As the lights hurt their eyes – they were kind enough to give the cat goggles – and a watch. Held by the collar that connected him to this time only by a leash, Virgil tossed the cat into the vortex; it seemed to whirl about unpleasantly until it disappeared with a final distorted meow.
It was then Charlie finally took notice and stomped over to stop them, Virgil purposely getting in the way so Zeke would not get distracted. When Zeke heard that the cat could die, he jerked on the leash, pulling Albert Feline-stein out of whatever time he had been in. He came out a "cat-popsicle" ice matting his fur. Never the less all was forgotten and forgiven when they checked the watch and saw it had worked.
Charlie's cat was the first ever time traveler. As Charlie and Virgil laughed and patted each other on the back, Zeke smiled on, feeling for the first time as if he belonged – that he wasn't as alone as he had always been.
It was a good feeling, not being lonely.
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This is all from one page of notes, which only had scrawled quotes – well, I'm rather proud of it – but what do you think?