What did the mice really think about their new human friend when they first met her? My idea of what Modo was thinking.

Disclaimer: No own the hunky mice, but a girl can dream...

The First: Impression

Modo kept fairly quiet that first night at the garage. He was still struck with wonder at this new world they were in. Earth was gorgeous. Blue sky above with white clouds of water vapor, green plants living and growing everywhere, and a kind human girl that had taken them in.

Her name was Charlene Davidson, 'Charley' to her friends. He had to admit to some surprise that she told them her clan name, but he was beginning to suspect that that was the custom on this planet. And honestly, at first, he thought for sure she was joking with them. Surely she was joking; a bike mechanic with that name. But it wasn't a joke. When Vinnie had asked in a teasing voice if that was her real name, she had smacked his arm and told him that her father had wanted a boy, so she was stuck with it.

She was very pretty, with fair skin spotted with small brown dots that he later learned were called freckles on her cheeks and nose. The lack of fur, antennae, and tail was startling, but it somehow seemed to suit the girl, (as well it should as she was born that way, he reminded himself). Her mane was thick with brown and red hair mixed together like he had rarely seen on Mars. She was--not thin, not scrawny, but very fine-boned, almost delicate looking. But she was no weakling; her hands were covered in callouses, proof of long days of hard work. The muscles of her arms were defined but not overly so, and she carried herself with the confidence of someone that knew what their body could do. She was young, couldn't be more than twenty-three, and lived by herself from what he could tell. He wondered why someone like her was all alone.

But what really struck him about her appearance were her eyes. They constantly shifted from blue to green to a dazzling mix of the two colors, and it almost seemed to reflect her mood. When she'd been angry at Greasepit, they'd snapped an icy blue. When she'd met them, they turned at deeper shade of cobalt in worry. When Throttle had walked through her mind, (scaring the other two mice badly, as the tan mouse had never mind-walked with an alien before) they had turned to a hazy light green. And when she had welcomed them with a smile to her home, the Last Chance Garage, they had almost glowed a soft emerald.

He made a mental note to himself to chew out his two freinds later on for acting rude as their first meal on Earth went on. This was not their finest hour, manners-wise. Granted, it had been way too long since the last time they'd had anything like real food, or at least food that tasted good. So he supposed that he could let it slide just this once. But afterwards, they would have to watch how they acted in front of a lady.

And Charlene Davidson was a lady, in the truest sense of the word.

Modo was often told by Throttle that he had very good instincts, and had sometimes been used by the Resistance to test out new recruits to search for spies. The grey mouse wasn't sure just how good he actually was at the job, but always tried his best to listen to his instincts when it came to new people. Quiet observation, casual glances, just seeing how they reacted to things that he or his bros would say were often all he needed to make his opinion of any person they met.

And his opinion was that she was very high class. She moved with grace, sitting up straight with barely a slouch, showing classical training even when she ate. Small bites to actually taste her food, never once talking with her mouth full, always swallowing before she said anything to them. Only when she'd finished her own food did she lean her head on her hand to listen to the three mice talk. She played the hostess with style, barely disturbing their conversations whenever she brought out more food or took plates out of the room.

But the part that really said that she was a lady was that she never made them feel awkward. Anyone else that showed manners like that would have made the three mice uncomfortable, or would have had them unconsciously changing how they acted to blend in better. She gave off an aura of acceptance, so none of them felt any differently about how they acted. This girl was a keeper, Modo thought to himself.

She was genuine in her emotions, nothing coy or catty.

Her smile was honest and sweet.

And her eyes echoed with loneliness.