Author Note: Apologies for the wait for this chapter - sidetracked! But here it is and I hope you enjoy. Two things I should clarify though. One, POW is short for Prisoner Of War. And two, read the disclaimers at the beginning. I know this chapter raises questions and might annoy some, so I'll just remind you about them. Enjoy!

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For long seconds, the Biker Mice stared at Harley, caught in Greasepit's grip. She hadn't turned to look at them, too concerned with the gun at her head, but they could easily see who it was in spite of the angle, and the changes that had been wrought by time and captivity. Her hair was much shorter, as if it had been chopped clumsily some time in the past and allowed to grow back. There was a scar running down the side of her face, near the corner of her right eye and the right ear had a mangled, ragged look. She was thinner than they remembered, but surprisingly, a long way from emaciated.

"Last chance, Biker Mice," gloated Limburger. "Drop your weapons and surrender or I'll let Greasepit use her for target practice – and even his aim isn't that bad."

Vinnie sighed and threw his gun to the floor, Throttle following suit a second later. Modo retracted his arm cannon and slowly lowered his arm.

"Hands in the air," added Limburger. "And vacate the motorcycles please. Stand over by the wall."

The mice complied, none of them taking their eyes off Greasepit, grinning nastily at them, never loosening his grip on Harley. A moment later, three goons walked into the room, restraints in hand, evidently ready to take the mice hostage. From there, they imagined they would be either sent to Karbunkle's lab – or possibly to a jail on Plutark, unwilling guests of Lord Camembert. They had caused enough trouble for the High Council over the years that having them as prisoner would put Limburger in favour.

Vinnie narrowed his eyes as Limburger chuckled; keeping an eye out for an opportunity – any opportunity – to get all four of them out of the predicament they were in. "If you hurt her…"

Harley suddenly twisted in Greasepit's grip, taking her eyes off the gun at her head for the first time and staring across the room at the three Biker Mice. "Vinnie?"

"Ah, a happy reunion," said Limburger mockingly. "Too bad it will be all too brief."

"Hur hur," chuckled Greasepit, taking his eyes off Harley and giving the Biker Mice a gap-toothed grin. Harley's gaze shifted from Vinnie to the gun held at her head, narrowing her eyes as the muzzle moved slightly from her head, still aimed at her – but Greasepit's attention was momentarily not on her.

Without warning, Harley stamped on Greasepit's foot as hard as she could. At the same time, she both ducked and slammed her elbow back into his gut.

Moaning in pain, Greasepit tried to both double over and hop at the same time, losing all interest in keeping a grip on Harley. His finger tightened on the trigger of the gun and had Harley not ducked, the accidental shot may well have taken off her head. As it was, the noise and heat from the laser gave her incentive to throw herself out of the way – none too soon, as Greasepit recovered quickly.

Harley hit the floor, and rolled out of the way, just in time to avoid a second blast from his gun. Greasepit lined up for another shot – and then the gun was blown out of his hands as Modo raised his mechanical arm and fired a shot from the cannon.

Throttle let out a piercing whistle and a second later; the office was filled with the sound of growling engines. Harley scrambled to her feet and ran toward the Biker Mice as the three mice leapt onto their bikes.

Snarling, Limburger hit the intercom on his desk. "Get them!"

The air in the office became filled with laser fire as the three goons dropped the restraints and grabbed for their guns instead. Limburger jumped as a stray shot scorched his desk and ducked behind the furniture in a hurry.

Vinnie rode past Harley, not slowing for a second as he whipped his tail around her waist and raised her onto the back of his bike. Helmetless, Harley wrapped both arms around Vinnie's waist and clung on tightly as the bike sped toward the goons.

In spite of the firefight going on around them, Vinnie was disconcerted. He'd been going over the moment when he was reunited with Harley for years, the drama-loving side of him always imagining snatching the lady fair from out of the arms of danger, beating the bad guys and riding into the sunset with her on the back of his bike. But as time went on, he began to suspect if they ever did get Harley back, it wouldn't be until the liberation of Mars. He might not even be present when she was freed, stranded on Earth as they were.

But now the moment had arrived, exactly as he had always imagined it would be, he couldn't deny that it didn't feel quite as he had thought it would. Seeing Harley at all had thrown him for a loop and the arms wrapped around him felt slightly awkward after he'd gotten so used to Charley riding pillion.

"Ooaaww!" he yelled, trying to shove the confusion to the back of his mind and concentrate on the fight. He lived for moments like this after all. And just because Harley had surprised him with her presence, didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the fight!

Hitting a button on his dash, Vinnie opened fire at the goons, forcing them to scatter as the laser blasted at them. They narrowly escaped injury, but the shot left a sizeable hole in the door.

Modo picked off those that had run left, swerving his bike to avoid the return fire, eye glowing red. Most of the time, the mice went into battle with the goons without taking things too seriously – they had never been bested by Limburger's troops yet and in the confined space, it wasn't going to be much of a fight. But by trying to use one of their friends to get at them, a friend who wasn't even a field soldier and he had privately suspected on occasion to be dead – that riled him up.

Throttle veered right, taking his hands off the bike long enough to power up his nuke-nuks, skilfully avoiding the fire from the goons. Getting close, he knocked several of them flying across the room, hearing the sound of his bros to his left, taking care of the remainder. Not stopping, trusting that Modo and Vinnie had his back, he spun 180 degrees and rode up to the desk. Limburger picked exactly the wrong time to poke his head from behind it and Throttle grabbed him by the lapels, yanking him forward.

"Where are the other POW's?"

"I – I don't know!" Limburger was gibbering with fear as the last of the goons were dispatched, Modo, Vinnie and Harley approaching the desk too. "I was on business on Plutark when I saw her – I bought her because I knew she could persuade you to surrender!"

"You 'bought' her, huh?" Throttle pulled Limburger closer. "From who?"

"A jail on Plutark…" Limburger gasped for air. "It's where all prisoners of war are taken, eventually."

"Nice." Throttle shoved Limburger backwards, sending him tripping over the chair. "It's a place to start. Get one thing through your head Fish-face, Mice are no ones property, least of all yours. Let's get Harley outta here."

Vinnie pulled a wheelie and headed for the window that they had broken through, closely followed by Modo and Throttle. Harley, clinging to Vinnie, glanced once at the devastation behind her as they leapt through the window, noting the downed goons and Limburger cautiously looking after them – and then they were descending in a controlled jump down the side of the tower.

When he was sure the mice had left, Limburger stood and brushed off his suit, going over to the broken window and looking out as he saw the three motorcycles riding away down the street.

"That's what you think, you vile vermin…"

Four blocks from Limburger tower, Throttle pulled over at the side of the road and Modo and Vinnie did likewise. They shut off the engines and raised their visors, save for Harley who wasn't wearing a helmet.

Modo shook his head wonderingly; staring at Harley as if trying to understand that she really was on the back of Vinnie's bike. "Imagine Limburger finding you for us. All that time we thought you were somewhere on Mars."

Harley smiled at him and wrapped her arms around Vinnie's neck, leaning against his neck. "I knew you'd be looking for me. I can't believe I'm finally free!"

Throttle smiled slightly, but there was concern in the look. "You can tell us the whole story once we get away from here. Let's head to the Last Chance."

"Uh… the Last Chance?" Vinnie looked suddenly worried. "Is that really a good idea?"

"Harley's got no helmet and the Last Chance is closest," Throttle pointed out, although he had a pretty good idea why Vinnie might not want Harley going over there. "We don't want a cop noticing. Best to get off the streets in a hurry."

Vinnie shrugged, looking surprisingly unhappy for someone who had Harley's arms draped over him, but lowered his visor and started the engine again. Harley settled back down, taking her arms from his neck and wrapping them around his waist instead. Throttle and Modo exchanged serious looks as they gunned their own engines. It was pretty obvious that Harley was expecting to carry on with Vinnie exactly where they left off before her kidnap – but things had changed. There was Charley to think about now and although she and Vinnie weren't an item, they were very close to each other. How the two ladies would react to each other was anyone's guess.

But they didn't have much of a choice. They had to get Harley out of sight before she was seen without a helmet. Beside, Charley had to know sooner or later and leaving her out of something this big was unthinkable. The four of them had been allies too long.

The mice got to the Last Chance without being pulled over by the police, which was fortunate – paying a ticket would be the least of their problems if the cop decided to get nosy about Harley's appearance. Charley was already there, evidently having just arrived back from the rest home. She turned to glare at them; planning to give them a mouthful for leaving her to walk home – then noticed the extra mouse with them and abruptly forgot that she was annoyed.

As the three bikes pulled to a stop, she couldn't take her eyes off Vinnie and the mystery mouse. Not one of the Freedom Fighters she had met before… and the proprietary way that she hung on to Vinnie gave Charley the feeling that she knew just who it was. What she couldn't work out was how the mouse could be there, if she was who Charley suspected.

"Hey there Charley-girl," said Throttle, removing his helmet and getting off his bike. "Um… this is Harley, we told you about her, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," she replied, noting Vinnie's worried glances in her direction.

"This is Charley," Throttle said to Harley as she dismounted the bike. "She's kinda become part of the team since we got to Earth."

"Really." Harley gave the human an inscrutable look before smiling. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too – I heard a lot about you…" Charley frowned in confusion. "But I thought it was the rats who had you. How did you end up on Earth? Don't tell me they've decided to show up here too."

"They're not," replied Harley tersely, leaning against the garage wall and glancing at the three Biker Mice. "When Mace took me, I was a prisoner of the rats for a while. But things weren't going so well for them, so they unloaded a load of us on the Sand Raiders. Then the Plutarkians took us from them, off to Plutark, as bargaining tools I heard. Then when the big meeting happened, Limburger saw me and I guess he remembered me from the Freedom Fighters and formed some kind of plan. I didn't know you guys were even on this planet until you showed up at Limburger Tower."

There was silence while the others mulled over the information and then Harley gave another smile. "And it's all over now – you came and got me! I don't want to think about it anymore. Not now anyway. I…" Her smile faded and she looked at the floor. "It doesn't do any good. I was the only Martian that Limburger brought to Earth with him, the others are still on Plutark. I don't see a ship of any kind around here, so unless you're hiding one somewhere really good, I'd say we're stranded here with no way to get back Mars and even if we could get back, I doubt the Freedom Fighters have enough mice or planes to mount anything like a rescue mission. I've been a prisoner for a long time and I just want a chance to get used to it without starting planning for war all over again."

Throttle nodded. "But it's information that Carbine should have."

Modo scowled, his eye glowing red. "If I ever meet up with Mace again…"

"Someday you might get the chance," said Harley, an impassive look on her face. "Is there anything to eat?"

Charley glanced at Vinnie again, who was giving Harley a thoughtful, frowning look and she made a quick decision to give the Biker Mice a chance to discuss the situation without either her or Harley listening in. And perhaps there were some things she could help Harley with once the guys were out of the way – girl talk in other words. "Why don't you guys grab us some hot dogs and I'll see if I can find Harley a spare helmet and maybe a jacket?"

"Good idea," said Vinnie hurriedly, putting his helmet back on.

"Well don't be too long," said Harley flirtatiously. "I want to find out how you all got to this planet."

"We'll be quick," promised Throttle and the three rode out.

Charley managed a smile at Harley, genuinely feeling for the young mouse. She too had been taken prisoner by Plutarkians and sold to Sand Raiders, if only briefly. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in that situation for any length of time, unable to do anything about it.

"There's a place nearby that knows exactly how much those guys order normally, it won't take them long."

"It'll be nice to have some real food," commented Harley, glancing around the Last Chance inexpressively.

"I've modified some helmets, just in case those macho mice manage to damage theirs," continued Charley. "I should be able to find one for you."

"Good."

Charley frowned slightly as she noticed that Harley's friendliness had diminished significantly the moment the Biker Mice had left the building. But then, the two had never met and Harley was hardly used to trusting others, especially alien species. On top of that, she seemed to still be infatuated with Vinnie – more so than she had been on Mars, according to what she had heard. As the only other female around – and knowing what Vinnie was like around women – Harley probably considered her a threat.

"I can probably find a spare jacket too," Charley said, noting Harley's drab combats and shirt, wondering if it was standard prison issue clothing. "But I can't help with anything else."

"Don't bother. As long as I have a helmet, I don't think Vinnie's going to wipe us out. And I don't think one of your jackets would fit me anyway."

"Oh, okay," said Charley, trying to keep her temper, reminding herself that the mouse had been through a terrible experience and had only just got free of it. The barely disguised hostility wasn't personal. "Is there anything else you need? Medically perhaps?"

Harley laughed without humour. "I may be a wrench jockey, but I learned a lot about medicine while Mars was a war zone. If I needed any bandaging up, I could take care of it myself."

Turning and walking to where she kept the spare helmets, Charley ground her teeth and fought for control. Harley being sprung on her was a shock – she had got used to the status quo, where Vinnie spent his time trying to impress her and she rolled her eyes at him. They had settled into a flirtatious, bantering relationship that Charley had known wouldn't last forever, but she had expected it to be cut short by the mice returning to Mars once their mission on Earth was complete. Never had she expected that Harley would show up in Chicago.

And although she was trying to be charitable, she was a little perturbed at how jealous she felt. Vinnie had always carried a torch for his first love and now she was back, Charley didn't expect that she and Vinnie would be anywhere near as close as they were. Not that anything had ever happened between them – not that she wanted anything to happen – but since the mice had arrived on Earth, he had become her best friend and if Harley continued in her obvious resentment, things would have to change. Hell, things would change regardless.

Trying not to sigh, she grabbed the helmet she had designed as a spare for Throttle and turning back to Harley. "Here. This should fit."

Harley took the helmet and looked around the Last Chance again. "You're a mechanic?"

"Best in Chi-town," said Charley proudly. "I've been working on the improvements on the Biker Mice bikes. You're a mechanic too, right?"

"Best on Mars," echoed Harley, slightly mockingly. "And our names are alike too. Coincidence, huh?"

Charley didn't like where the conversation was heading and reminded herself to tread carefully. She didn't want to alienate Harley, not when she was a Freedom Fighter, close ally of the Biker Mice and less than half a day into her first day as a free mouse for years. But so far, Harley hadn't acted anything like the mouse that her friends had described knowing back on Mars.

"It is an odd coincidence," said Charley slowly.

"Strange how alike we are really. Both mechanics, both with the 'Arley' in the name – must be easier for the boys anyway, if one of them slips up and calls you by my name, they can just pretend you misheard!"

"Hey, just a minute…!"

"I saw the way you looked at Vinnie," continued Harley as if Charley had never spoken, the smile gone from her face. "I know what a flirt he can be and I know I've been gone a long time but now I'm back and you need to get any ideas you have about him out of your mind." She laughed, taking the helmet from Charley. "It's quite sweet that he tried to find someone just like me – but you aren't even the same species as him. He'd never be serious about you."

Charley was momentarily speechless, fury so great that she couldn't articulate it, merely glaring at the mouse with her eyes narrow and fists clenched. Harley took the opportunity, tucking the helmet under her arm and walking out of the Last Chance, presumably to wait for the other mice outside. By the time she was able to speak, the other woman was already out of the building.

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For once, Vinnie was entirely silent on the journey to pick up the food, not that the others blamed him. They parked up by the stand and Vinnie leant back on his bike, arms folded, as Throttle gave their order to the vendor.

"There's something different about her," he said suddenly.

The other two looked at him with expressions of mild exasperation. "Of course there's something different about her," said Throttle. "She's been a prisoner of war until today. Be strange if she was exactly the same."

"She's gonna have changed some bro," added Modo. "Once she gets used to bein' free again, she'll get back to bein' more like herself. Probably still in shock after the fight and all."

"She didn't seem that shocked," said Vinnie.

"Well, she's a Freedom Fighter, she knows better than to show weakness to Limburger," Modo snapped back, his chivalric side coming out.

"Chill," said Throttle, trying to diffuse things. Vinnie had never really spoken about what had happened to Harley, even when they were back on Mars, but he knew that he had always carried a torch for her and remembered how their failed missions to retrieve her had always led to some of Vinnie's more bad-tempered outbursts and suicidally insane stunts. Having her back so suddenly and unexpectedly was bound to have some effect on their often highly-strung bro – although he had never expected anything like this.

"This is Harley," he continued. "She's still the same, she's probably just shocked to find us three here on Earth and herself free after all this time. I mean, we weren't exactly unaffected by being taken prisoner either."

"Nope," replied Modo grimly before changing the subject slightly. "Besides, she seemed awful pleased to see you."

Vinnie brightened noticeably. "Well yeah, but who wouldn't be? This is grade A mouse material to the rescue!"

"Uh, I seem to recall we were there too?" Throttle smirked. The easiest way to get Vinnie out of one of his moods was to appeal to his vanity. "Dogs are here. You gonna help us with 'em or you gonna sit around congratulating yourself?"

Vinnie rolled his eyes theatrically and took a handful of Charley's money from his pocket, paying for the food while the others grabbed the food.

"Wouldn't so to keep the ladies waiting," said Modo. "I'm worried about leaving Harley in a strange place for too long."

"We've been fifteen minutes," answered Throttle, thinking about the atmosphere that they had left behind in the Last Chance and pitching his voice low enough so Vinnie couldn't overhear. "And I'm more worried about how the ladies are gonna react to each other. Because I've got a bad feeling that sparks are gonna fly."