This one shot would not let me move on with my other story until it got written. Silly plotless bunnies rearing their ugly head again. I do mean plotless. There really isn't anything tying into this story.
Note: Takes place 3 years into the Biker Mice and Charley team-relationship. So sexual tension, banter, and normal bickering has already been established in the group and Charley and Vinnie's "friendship" has already been set.
Okay, and here we go.
Numb- One Shot
"There." Charley spoke with a rise to her voice, over powering the revving engine of Vincent's cherry colored bike, and with a push of a button, the motor sputtered to a calming halt after she parked it. "She definitely lives to ride another day." And with a snap of her head, she shoveled off the constricting helmet from her long, auburn locks, forcing it into the Martian's hands. The heavy push caused him to choke slightly from the oncoming shove.
"Just don't say I never do you any favors," The woman added for good measure with an alluring grin.
The white mouse's face lit up like a kid at Christmas as he placed a tender hand along Sweetheart's crankcase in sobering awe, appearing quite relieved from the wait.
"You're a doll, doll-face!" He cheered, stopping for a moment to bend down to smooch the cycle at his side, and finding the mechanic's eyes once more, "You're the best, Charley-girl."
"Right." Charlene grumbled with an arch to her brow, feigning disbelief. She quickly folded her arms over her denim chest before ripping the helmet away from Vincent's grasp entirely to lightly scold him. "Though, it wouldn't kill you to stop with the stupid stunts for a while. I've got better things to do than to fix your precious bike all the time, you know."
Vinnie frowned when Charley playfully flicked at his fur-covered pecks in warning. She casually walked around him to put her gear inside a cupboard above the workbench, absently grabbing a decent sized wrench in the process. The mechanic had repairs to finish. Mainly a customer's vehicle that was due on Tuesday- of last week. Between Limburger's bad guy antics and Vinnie's insidious motorbike problems she had gotten severely behind. Needless to say, she took a hefty pay cut on that specific job to please the man who was upset that a certain caravan wasn't done in a timely manner.
Charlene mumbled under her breath at the disservice of it all, the tool in her grip clanking hard against the metal, and she hastily shoved her upper half into the engine's commode, bound and determined to get the said van away from Last Chance's parking lot for good.
"Better turn that frown upside down, bro." Modo chuckled, interrupting his comrade's devastated pout. He continued to buffer Little Hoss' leather bound seat, squinting his good eye in concentration. He was making sure that the cowhide shined beautifully with expertise. "Unless you want Charley-mam to knock them fuzzy lips clean off with that fancy wrench of hers."
Throttle snickered in amusement, readjusting his shades. He was sitting in an old lawn chair flipping through a few pages of last months "Biker Babes Monthly" magazine, mindlessly tapping his foot in time with the heavy metal music flittering about the empty space of the garage.
Vincent puttered with a jolt to his wrist, fending them off. "Pfft.. what do you guys know about it anyways?"
"Plenty." Throttle mused; turning another leaf of the paperback nestled in his lap. "Seems to me that just last week you gotta pretty good taste of the lady's dark side," and he cocked his head off to the side in satire, his bionic orbs twinkling slightly over his sun glasses at his brother.
"Remind me to never to get on the bad side of Charley." He added, shuddering under his vest and taking a quick glance at Modo with a shake of his head. "Some heavy and scary stuff right there."
The gray soldier hummed and hawed under his breath with laughter, still vigorously massaging the bike with essential crankcase oils and lacquer polish from an old, weathered out rag. Finalizing a shine that Little Hoss was now projecting in droves from her lavish and extensive rub down. She beeped at him in delight.
"Whooo-wee, wasn't that a night to remember." Modo cackled, patting the motorcycle joyfully in kind, and he stood then, throwing the towel along side a plastic box filled to the brim with dirty laundry, while sporting one heck of a devilish smirk at Vincent's red, hot cheeks.
"A memory that this mouse plans to forget, by the way." Vincent said in a matter of fact like tone, trying to hide a blush with a tight shrug to his jaw line. His brothers on the other hand, weren't buying into his little white lie, and it showed considerably on their faces. "Well most of it is anyway," he admitted with a short pause, "Besides, you guys are just jealous, that's all."
"Is that so." Throttle chuckled a bit, throwing a few fingers over his chin in thought, curiosity eventually taking hold, "And what exactly are me and Modo supposed to be jealous of?"
"Wait, wait, I gotta sit down for this one." Modo beamed, and he took a few steps to the left, capturing another yard chair hanging from the wall.
Vinnie watched with intrigue as Modo ungraciously plopped down on his backside towards the seat.
"Just- ya'know- wanted to be comfy durin' this long and pointless rant of yours." Modo explained with a huff, looking at his friend's confused expression with a looming tilt to his muzzle, and he continued to wiggle his hindquarters around to get it snuggled just right into the chair, delaying the inevitable. He started to squirm up and down, shoving himself to the left and then to the right, sliding forwards and then backwards before he settled on a good, solid butt dip that actually pleased him; holding him still.
"Comfy yet- bro?" Vinnie spat sarcastically, his patience running thin. He gazed discreetly from the corner of his eye at Charlene for a second, hoping she'd over hear his boasting conversation.
"Much." The gray mouse retorted with a wink. "Now you can start makin' a fool of yourself."
"Oh, hardy, harr-harr." The white mouse bit back with a roll to his crimson eyes. "Aren't you clever."
Modo grinned with bellowing pride, "Yep, sure as my Mama's homemade pie. Thanks for takin' notice."
"Gettin' to the point here, fellas?" Throttle gestured with a heated hand towards Vincent. "Preferably before I die of boredom and old age."
"Old age first." The gray soldier chuckled, continuing to jab and squeeze at the comical vine during Vincent's expense. "Vinnie still hasn't told us why we should be all sad and jealous-like yet."
At this point in the evening, Throttle wanted to give up on the whole thing; already having enough. Thinking that heading back to the board to get a little shut eye was far better than sitting around the garage bickering back and forth about nothing all night long, and he dramatically tossed his head back against Charlene's desk with a diluted thud in defeat. The steam he maintained was beginning to run dryer than a sweltering dessert on fire- on a hot summers day.
"By the gods Vincent," The tan leader groaned, pinching his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his snout, irritated.
"If you don't spill whatever it is in the next two seconds, I'm walkin'."
The lighter teammate stood there for a moment, looking as if he were picking and prodding imaginary fuzz from his bandoliers in mock distraction. The black tip of his nose hung a margin lower than it normally would when his confidence and pride was put on the line, and he sniffed some of the burn away, trying to keep that steady composure of his in the forefront instead of taking the more easy, satisfying route by just blowing up at his grayer counter part in retaliation and anger.
Throttle would never allow that behavior anyway. Not in front of a lady. Not in front of Charley.
So, there he stood, picking and prodding, before he could muster up the courage to garble and mumble out a- "I gotta date, tonight," confession.
Throttle sat up with a startling jolt, almost throwing his green shades across the garage in surprise, while Modo's mouth slacked jawed ten-fold, right onto the metal casings that hugged around his large feet.
"Say that again?" Modo inquired, revolving a hefty finger in his mousey ears, giving Vincent the old stink eye. He then scratched the back of his head in discomfort; completely shell shocked by his brother's unbelievable news.
The white martian smiled wickedly at their reaction, and he posed confidently, with his arms sprawled and clenched against his chest in glorious triumph.
"Well, whattya know." Vincent chuckled with a brilliant wink of his own. "Jealous now, aren't we, fellas?" and he brought up a lightly folded hand to gently splice it across his broad and burley chest; ending the sweet gesture by blowing on the tips of his fur-covered digits in self love.
"Yep, you heard right, bros- no lyin'. This stud muffin totally scored himself a hot babe for a date tonight!"
Without warning, loud pangs, pings and clanging came screeching out in a tantrum from the undercarriage of a caravan. Apparently, Charlene had relocated from the safety zone of an engine, to beneath a disheveled, fossilized vehicle since the last time the boys' checked in on her.
"You alright, Charley-mam?" The grayer of the two spoke out of concern. He lifted himself up from the chair to get a better view of the mechanics fumbling legs, in case she required some much needed assistance.
"Fine." Charlene said in short, and by the way she acted, she seemed to go right back into the swing of things before her fumbling limbs caused a disturbance.
"Well, if you're sayin' you're okay, Charley-girl. The fellas and I were thinkin' of goin' back to the board to get some well deserved shut eye." Throttle then whirled on Vinnie with a whispering snarl so Charlene couldn't over hear their curdled bickering. "And you can explain to me in full detail on what the hell it is you're tryin' to pull here."
Vinnie smirked even wider beside himself and shrugged, "Com'on, bros. You know a mouse never kisses and tells."
As quickly as the words came flying from his muzzle, Vincent was on Sweetheart, starting the gears to her engine.
"Besides, according to the bro code, the juicy details always come later!" and then Vincent was gone in a cloud of dust. Leaving his brothers shocked out of their rodent minds twice that evening.
Charlene's green pools peeked from underneath her metallic prison, as if waiting for the white mouse to vacate the premises before deciding to slowly roll out in plain sight.
Throttle, forever the gentleman, threw out a hand to help her stand from the cool concrete floor, but she waved him off, getting to her feet on her own.
"I said I was fine." Charley grumbled, walking over to the workbench to lay down a tool. She tossed it a bit too hard though, as it flanked and tinged off a few items below before it safely landed with a dull plunk.
Her boys still hadn't moved, looking unsure of themselves on what to do next, or how to handle Charley's sudden, off putting attitude against them.
"Why don't you boys just shove off to the board already." The mechanic motioned pointedly to the opened garage door. "I've," a short and heavy sigh, "I've got some cleaning to do." she deflated, and her voice suddenly contradicted her actions, because just as the mice were about retort, the lights to Last Chance flickered into darkness, leaving Throttle and Modo seeing nothing but the pitch black of the night and hearing the simple, low hum of machines.
"She's hurtin' real bad, Throttle," Modo said with a hint of disdain hanging from his tongue due to Vincent's recent actions. "Ain't no reason why I shouldn't go and kick Vinnie's ass for this."
"Save it for tomorrow," Throttle agreed, gathering his barring's and straddling his ride. "Ass kicking of these types require much needed beauty sleep, and I for one could use the rest."
One hour later:
She rarely went up there, but tonight she felt that the solitude was needed, and so, Charlene carefully glided the window open to her bedroom, stepping gingerly onto Last Chance's weathered worn rooftop.
The wind was a bit stronger, harsher, much chillier being closer to the stars, and she began hugging her coat a little tighter for warmth, tipping her toes for balance and using the side of the garage's plastered wall as a guide before finally nestling into a gratifying spot to sit.
With an aluminum mug of hot chocolate in her taught grip, Charley was able to relax for the evening. She took a cautious sip of her creamy drink, using those few precious moments to try and collect the jumbled and confusing thoughts she was suddenly having about what happened in her workshop that night.
Not only her thoughts, but what she was feeling, too. Her heart ached terribly, overflowing by the masses with jealousy, and she was fully aware of the reasons as to 'why' she abruptly felt that way. Charley wasn't stupid or naïve, she just didn't want to commit to anything out loud. Not yet, maybe not ever.
They both came from two separate worlds. He would eventually go back to Mars, probably never to return, and she would ultimately be left here on Earth alone, devastated and broken hearted. It wouldn't work. They wouldn't work, but at the same time, there was that small chance of hope that they could possibly be something more too.
God, why did life have to be so damn difficult?
The mechanic heavily sighed, and ran an agitated hand through her lengthy, auburn hair, shy of stopping at the base of her neck, at a loss. Honestly, she really didn't know what to believe anymore. Confusion was an obnoxious game she despised playing, and there was Vincent, willing to roll the dice, forcing her girly emotions to make a move.
"Slime-ball." The woman chastised under her breath, sucking in another sip of hot chocolate. "Thinks he's got it bad now, oh, just wait and see. That conniving little twit's going to-"
"Whoa…" Spouted a familiar drawl. "What's with all the hostility, Sweetheart?"
Charlene bolted upright at the interruption; almost dropping the mug between her fingertips toward the streets below in shock, while ungraciously fumbling with the drink in her shaky, unsteady palms.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, Vinnie?" Charley impatiently asked, trying not to sound angry and hurt, and she quickly flittered her furious gaze high into the city's skyline, refusing to look at the martian mouse face to face. It was difficult enough having him there already, constantly on her mind, and now with him physically being there, it was causing her emotions to flutter sporadically, making her gut hit the floor like a rock in a bundle of nerves and uncertainty, and she hated it.
Vincent hesitated to give the woman an answer, not really sure of himself on how to comply, and so he slack jawed, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water; leaving her question hanging stagnate- bare. He couldn't find the means to admit that he lied, that he made the whole -having a date thing- up, just to see what she'd say. To get a rise out of her, and looking back in hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to mess with his friend's emotions. No, in fact, it was a conniving and shameful thing to do, regardless of his his feeling towards her.
Right then, Vinnie's ears had flattened low as he frowned, realizing just how bad of a friend he was actually being. He was acting completely selfish, absolutely unfair.
The awkward stillness around them ensued for what seemed like hours, making the mechanic even more uneasy with her recent company, and in order to get the solitude and peace she so desperately wanted, she had to hit below the belt where it counted, by lashing out at the man's very first love affair- his own pride. The thought of doing such a thing to one of her best friends ebbed away at her conscience, but she felt that she didn't have any other choice.
All she wanted was for Vincent to leave. To let her wallow alone in self-pity.
"You know," spat an irritable, feminine sigh, "purposely standing a girl up when she's looking forward to a night out isn't exactly what I would consider attractive in a guy,"
Vincent instantly blushed at that, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Yeah, I get that. I just came here to check-"
"Because nine times out of ten, those type of guys are usually the ones who become complete assholes." Charlene spewed in distaste, cutting the mouse off, and she twirled her torso around half of the way as she sat, finally casting her glowing green pools at him. The tears she had tucked away began trickling down her crimson cheeks in a flash flood, ending its salty trail at the edge of her rounded, soft chin.
The white mouse had metaphorically been slapped in the face by the sight of Charley and he stood there frozen, unable to move his mouth and feet to fill that burning need of wanting to protect her, to comfort her. Something internally was begging him not to, and it refrained him from explaining things and rushing by her side.
"Is all of this just a game to you?" Charlene questioned as her expression twisted heavily in disgust when he didn't give his usual excuse or banter on the subject. "Shouldn't her feelings be important enough to let go of that macho-man ego of yours for a split second?"
At this point, Charlene didn't know if she was even talking about his mystery date anymore, and quite frankly, she couldn't care less. She was too emotionally unstable, unsound. She wanted nothing more than for Vincent to experience some of her pain, to take a load of her heartache away after what he'd said and done at the garage. It was evident that she was blaming him for everything that transpired between them over the span of the last three years, refusing to take responsibility for any of it . He wasn't the only one who got a thrill out of playing head games and the mouse was obviously losing his last bit of patience, having heard enough.
"Well, what about you, Charley-girl, huh?" Vincent finally spoke in accusation, shrugging indifference from being yelled at like an uncontrollable child.
"What about me?" The mechanic stammered, flabbergasted.
"Oh, please." The white martian sputtered with a roll to his scarlet pools, "You're just as guilty as I am when it comes to flirting around with the hotties and strummin' the old heartstring banjo, and you know it."
Charley's eyes flashed red. "That's not true."
"Tell that to all the fellas you've strung along over the last three years, doll-face." Vincent spat, putting salt in the wounds. "I don't see any of them running around here takin' you seriously."
"Get. Out." and Charley pointed over to her cracked window with an agitated scowl upon her face. "Out!" She pressed, lifting herself upright from garage roof when the hero didn't move fast enough. The hot cocoa she had fell to the ground with a crackling plop as she stood, long forgotten.
"Nah, I think I'll stay, thanks." Vinnie sassed back with a shrug, leaning against the wall looking quite smug with himself. He folded his arms over his broad pecks defiantly, standing firm.
"Got mud in your ears, Vinnie? The mechanic paused, arching an upper lip in displeasure at mouse's insufferable thick headedness, "I said get out."
"Nope. I ain't leavin'. Not until we fix whatever the heck this is, first." He countered, causally pointing to the tin floor in a heated stand still.
"You egotistical-" Charley snarled, trailing off under her breath, braving one step closer to Vinnie. Her anger was rising to dangerous levels and the hero knew it, still he pressed on, pushing all the right and wrong buttons.
"Beautiful." Vinnie clipped, trying to sound insulting. The devilish smirk on his muzzle however, betrayed how his voice had initially came out, clearly heading in the opposite direction of their argument, and the woman stopped for a moment as her rage calmed slightly in surprise.
"Self centered ass." She crowed back, staying on point, and she continued the path of fury towards her fur-covered friend, fists curling securely at her sides. Charlene wanted him to leave her alone already, to have some time set aside to get her feelings on the straight and narrow path again; mainly a path away from Vincent that wasn't so disheveled and crooked.
"Sexy as hell when she's totally pissed off." Came a short and playful chuckle with a wink to Vincent's eye. By the gods she was gorgeous when she was angry and he loved feeding and thriving on that knowledge daily.
Charley instantly blushed, "Don't you think that little hussy of yours would get upset, hearing you talk to me like that?" She reasoned with a suspicious arch to her brow, never noticing that the alien's long, white tail had slithered around her mid section in a gentle squeeze until it was too late; the appendage rocketing her skyward into the air.
The mechanic gasped on the incline, "Vinnie, I swear to god, if you don't put me down right now, I'll-"
"You'll do what, Sweetheart?" Vinnie cackled with a leering, cheshire grin. "Wave at me to death?" and to prove his point he wiggled his fingers in a dainty, feminine way at the girl hanging in the sky.
"I'm serious!" Charlene scolded.
"Tell me why you're so mad at me and maybe I'll think about it." The white martian prodded, folding his arms over his pecks, and he absently shifted sideways against the wall.
"Forget it." The woman spat, trying to pry away the appendage at her waist. "That cheese filled brain of yours wouldn't get it anyway, so why bother?"
That last insult stung him a little and she knew it, and before she could back peddle to apologize, the mechanic had already crashed landed into Vincent's fuzzy, broad chest.
It took a second or two for Charlene to gain back some of her footing and when she did, she made the undeniable mistake by gazing up into Vincent's eyes, wishing that she hadn't.
His crimson red pools searched wildly upon hers like fire to oil, as if he were peeling back the layers, staring right into her soul. The intensity of his glare was so vivid and raw that it made the warm breath in her lungs hiccup to a painful hitch and all she could do in that moment was stare back intently with a slow drop to her lips, utterly speechless. The hurt she put into those scarlet pools halted everything she always conflicted herself with, throwing every single shred of detail and protest out the window.
"Charley." Vincent choked, his voice smoldering to a whisper, and he gently removed an unruly lock of hair away from her forehead. "I may act like an idiot most of the time," he swallowed, letting go of a constricted sigh, "But that doesn't mean I'm too stupid to understand or notice when my Charley-girl's been hurtin', because her best friend's been actin' like an idiot", another sigh, "Again."
Charlene could've sworn that her heart had stopped beating at the mouse's honesty and suddenly her mind went into over drive, finding that her fingertips had all but glued themselves to his leathered bandoliers in a panic, and she quicky buried her face into his chest in shame, realizing just how awfully ridiculous her hysterical behavior was. Without prompting, she felt Vincent's tail coil even tighter around her waist as if he knew, as if he were accepting her silent apology, and she couldn't help herself from spitting out the whole, entire truth of what she had already came to terms with years ago.
"I love you, you stupid idiot." She hestitaed in a whisper, hoping that, despite her words being muffled in several inches of hair, he would hear her confession clearly.
"I know." Vincent smirked, and he tenderly lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, placing her shocked expression of 'how did you know' in full view. "Been waitin' a long time to hear you say it too." He swiped a few fallen tears away. "What took you so long, Sweetheart?"
Without giving her a chance to answer, Vinnie cupped the tearful cheeks of her face in one bold move. "I never did stop lovin' you, Charely," and he pulled her into him, colliding his soft lips against her's in a heated, but loving kiss.
Charlene had never felt so alive, so fantastically numb.
Author's Note: Please let me know if you liked this one shot in the reviews! Depending on how this one goes with you readers, I may or may not write about what Vinnie "saw" or did to get himself on Charley's dark side. Lol! For now, I'll just let you guys' decide for yourselves on what you think happened.
Suggestions and ideas for that are welcomed, though!
Thanks for reading everyone!