The bros walk in on Charley giving Carbine a massage and find out how the general really feels about Throttle...Crack. Pure crack.

Disclaimer: Self explanatory.

I can occasionally be persuaded to do a Throttle/Carbine. This fic is a direct result of what happens when I have too much caffeine.

Beware the caffeine...

The First Massage

Throttle pulled up with the rest of his bros, smiling as they entered the garage. It was the first time Carbine had come to visit him here on Earth without a mission, and he was looking forward to spending time with his girl. Stoker and Rimfire had come with the general to visit with them, causing a major store run to get snacks and drinks for the party they were about to have.

Of course, it had taken some time to gloss over the fact that the Stalker ship was sticking out of the Quigly Scoreboard.

Again.

The mice dismounted from their bikes, pulling off their helmets and joking around like normal with they suddenly heard Carbine's voice. More like a very loud moaning voice.

"Oh god, I'm going to marry you!"

"Huh?" Vinnie said in complete confusion as they all turned to stare up the steps to Charley's apartment above the garage bay.

"I love you!! Oh god, I love you...".

"Happens all the time, people get a massage and they start pledging their undying love," Charley said, her voice carrying to where they stood.

"A massage gets results like that?" Modo asked the room at large, staring up at the ceiling in shock.

"Sign me up for the next class," Vinnie said in awe.

"Me too," Rimfire agreed, Stoker nodding.

The lady mouse's voice rang with pleasure as she called out in a somewhat sleepy voice, "Gonna marry you an' never move again..."

"I think you may have to fight off a few people for that. Vinnie keeps on saying he'll make me a proud mama someday," Charley said.

"He can't love you like I can!! I'm twice the man he'll ever be!"

Stoker couldn't help it and started to laugh. Modo and Rimfire moved in perfect unison, slapping their hands over Vinnie's protesting mouth so he wouldn't interrupt the two girls.

"I'll cook! I'll clean!! I'll vacuum in a pink frilly apron!!" She went on, in great detail. It took a full two minutes for the general's voice to recover from shouting herself hoarse over begging to be allowed the joy and privilege of being Charlene's love slave and other, less appropriate, comments that were naughty even in context.

Stoker was now holding both hands over his mouth, tears pouring down his face as he curled up into a ball on the floor, helpless with laughter at the mental image of the apron. Modo and Rimfire just stared up the stairs in complete shock while Vinnie looked like he was about to drown in his own drool at the mental image of the two girls doing...things. Throttle just shook his head, fighting the twitch of his lips as he desperately tried to not laugh.

"For heaven's sake, Carbine, you have Throttle!" Charley exclaimed.

"He won't care if I have a mistress!! It'd probably turn him on!"

Vinnie passed out from a nosebleed at the image. Modo wasn't far behind him, but from sheer embarrassment.

"I will not be a mistress! I--oh lord, I almost took you seriously," Charley said in mild embarrassment.

"Alright, now its gettin' out of hand," Throttle said, a red flush on his cheeks. He made to go up the steps when he was

stopped dead in his tracks by Carbine's next words.

"I'll make it a law!! Throttle has to have two wives! He can be a polygamist and have ten wives for all I care!! Just as long as I have you!!"

"Okaaaay," Charley drawled, "I'm going to give you a cool down rub, so you just be still, alright? Be still."

Carbine passed out in the midst of promising, for the fourth time, to love her forever if only Charlene would graciously allow her to be her loyal pet in exchange for just two more minutes of massage.

She'd even been volunteering to wear a collar and everything.

Charley came down the steps a few minutes later, took one look at the boys, and shook her head. She turned to Throttle. "Carbine's sleeping now. She should be out for a couple of hours."

"Alright," the tan mouse nodded. "I appreciate you...making her comfortable." He had no idea how else to phrase it.

She noted his light blush and smiled. "Want me to teach you how to do that?"

His blush deepened. "If you have the time, I'd be grateful."

Charley smiled wider. "I'm free now. Go upstairs, take off your clothes and get on the bed."

"What?!"

"Before I can show you any techniques, I have to practice them on you so you can get a better understanding of what I'll be teaching." Her grin was positively wicked. "Now march, mister Martian. And don't worry, I'll have you moaning in no time."

"Oh, god."

"Just like that," she said serenely. She took his arm, gently pulling him along. "Come on, Throttle, we don't have all day!"

Stoker couldn't help his next words, for all that he loved the tan mouse like a son. "Lucky bastard."