Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters from Biker Mice from Mars! Any characters and situations herein are purely ficticious, and any similarity between those and persons living or dead is coincedental :)
I do own my own characters - these are all characters that come from my own work, although I have altered names and occupations slightly so they fit into the real world! I also own The Legacy - unfortunately only on paper but I can dream! :D
Chapter 11 – Girl Chat
Carbine followed Freda out to the driveway in front of the house and hopped into the 4x4 that Freda had unlocked. Carbine looked around curiously; it was her first time in an earth vehicle. The interior was a mess; the back seats had been flattened to provide a large space which was padded out with dog beds. Toys seemed to peek out everywhere and Carbine spotted a large knuckle bone half hidden by a tatty blanket. Evidently the dogs travelled with Freda on a fairly regular basis. The front seat had a large map on it which Carbine carefully moved. The foot-well held a plethora of assorted rubbish, Freda rarely cleaned the vehicle out it would seem.
"Seatbelt." Freda pointed at the black strap with its silver locking device hanging down to Carbine's left. Carbine grasped the belt, pulled it across herself and snapped it into place. As the engine roared noisily into life Carbine came to the decision that she probably preferred motorbikes. Freda shoved the gears into reverse and shot backwards at a speed that left Carbine's stomach behind.
"So, you and Stoker – niece and Uncle huh?" Freda shouted over the roar of the engine as they drove down the street.
"Yes." Carbine bellowed back looking puzzled.
"He talked about you a lot you know." Freda stated. "When he crashed at my place. It was him who suggested I move to Chicago – I already wanted to move to America."
"Oh – that's ok then." Carbine smiled, her head reeling at the revelation of how much Freda actually knew. "So you met the bro's already then?"
"Yeah, Modo and Vinnie pitched up like two nights ago; Throttle the morning after." Freda paused glancing sideways at Carbine. "He's really stressed you know – if he doesn't start to relax pretty soon he's gonna cave under the pressure."
"Throttle?" Carbine looked shocked. "You can tell?"
"Yeah, I know a few people who've had similar problems – including one of my best friends!" Freda shook her head. "I stress easily too; so I know some of what he's going through."
"Heck, with Rimfire down it's not like we could take a load off the bro's right now!" Carbine grimaced.
"Why do you need Rimfire? Why couldn't you swap places with Throttle? He's the one that's stressed! Modo will probably want to stay with Rimfire for the now so you and Stoker could take Vinnie off on patrols and stuff." Freda suggested. "I already recommended they rethink their strategy on the fighting front."
"Rethink how? You do know Stoker doesn't fight anymore?" Carbine asked wincing as Freda hit the brakes for a red light.
"Yeah, Stoker mentioned he does training mostly now; but I'm sure he could keep up in a support role for a few days, just until Throttle's head is sorted. Rethink wise - sabotage Limburger and try keeping an eye on more of the Plutarkians that are actually here." Freda explained as she coaxed a reluctant gear box to co-operate. "Overall it'd be more likely to make them buzz off somewhere else."
"Got you." Carbine nodded, gripping the sides of the seat as Freda turned a sharp corner. "Could be a good plan – but won't it mean more pressure on Throttle in the long run?"
"Shouldn't do, I'll be helping and so will Charley – the bro's just don't know that yet!" Freda laughed.
"What?! You know they'll never weather that don't you?" Carbine pointed out.
"Heh – I've dealt with my fair share of stubborn men!" Freda winked. "I hope you get the chance to meet some re-enactment buddies of mine!"
"Freda! I'm a Martian mouse! I think they might have a problem with that!" Carbine exclaimed in fear.
"I doubt it! We may come from different walks of life but most of us abhor normality in all its guises! So yeah a few six foot Martian mice probably wouldn't bother most of them! Stoker certainly didn't." Freda chuckled at Carbine's incredulous look. "Don't worry so much – no one's gonna hand you over to any whacko scientists!"
Freda pulled into the car park at the shop.
"Come on." She called cheerfully to Carbine as she exited the car. Carbine sighed before following suit. This was a bad idea on so many fronts as far as the Martian female was concerned. Steeling herself for the worst Carbine followed Freda in; Freda began picking up the stuff she'd need whilst Carbine stood frozen by the entrance. The General flicked her ears, no screams, no questions; there weren't even any real stares.
"So you related to one of them boys that's taking such good care of the city?" A male voice boomed in Carbine's ear. She turned, startled, to come face to face with a tall, burly man who was evidently the shopkeeper.
"Er yes, after a fashion." Carbine shrugged. "I can leave if you'd like."
"No, no – feel free to stay. Take a look round, dunno what you would like but whatever I'll make a gift of it to yer." The storekeeper gestured to his shop. Carbine scanned the place in surprise; she hadn't expected to be so welcome.
"Just this Bob." Freda hauled her basket onto the counter.
"Back again?" Bob laughed as he began scanning the items through the till. Carbine wandered over to the magazines and smiled as she saw an array of ones on motorbikes. She picked up three and went to the till.
"I'll get those." Freda smiled and reached out for them. Bob reached past her, took them from Carbine and tucked them in the bag.
"They's free." He announced. Freda frowned slightly, before smiling and handing over the money for her shopping. Between them the two women lugged the bags out and stowed them in the trunk of Freda's 4x4. Carbine smiled as a toddler waved to her from a car that had just pulled up; she slowly waved back before buckling up for the ride home.
"Would you like a hand with dinner?" Carbine asked as they came to a shuddering halt on Freda's drive.
"Can you cook?" Freda asked quizzically.
"Not really." Carbine admitted sheepishly.
"Come on then, I'll teach ya some stuff." Freda slammed the door, retrieved the shopping and locked the vehicle. In the kitchen she busied herself getting out what they would need for the meal.
"Oi!" Freda shouted through to the living room. "Who said anything about starting the second series whilst me n Carbine were out?"
"No one, we just did!" Vinnie laughed.
"Rookie!" Stoker growled; the sounds of a mock fight breaking out sounded from the living room.
"What are you watching?" Carbine asked curiously as she put the magazines to one side.
"A drama set during the English Civil War, the bro's seem quite taken with it." Freda chuckled. "Probably best if we start again at the beginning for you and Stoker though."
"History? You got Vinnie into history?" Carbine gasped.
"It's a good series!" Freda laughed. "Right omelettes! First we need to prepare the fillings and get the pan nice and hot."
Carbine was amazed at how easy Freda made things in the kitchen. Between them they not only got together the makings of the omelettes, but a batch of the bro's favourite cookies. Carbine was surprised when Freda left her in charge of cooking so she could slip up to check on Modo and Rimfire. When the human returned her face was grim.
"Rimfire's fever's already up again." Freda warned. "They're both asleep currently, I'd say let them sleep their fill then they can eat."
Carbine nodded grimly. Soon those who were still up were sitting round the table enjoying the omelettes Freda and Carbine had cooked up. Everyone seemed much more relaxed than earlier, which was all to the good as far as Freda was concerned. She'd persuaded all of them to camp over at her place whilst Rimfire was so ill. She'd also surreptitiously dispatched Charley over to the garage to send a message to Mars via her communicator summoning any of Rimfire's family who were willing to make the trip. Charley hadn't sounded hopeful over the results, but Freda had nodded quietly. She didn't know how the Martian Military worked, let alone the Freedom Fighters, but it's what they'd have done in the U.K. so she guessed it would probably hold good wherever.
Modo's sudden appearance ended the general feeling of high spirits.
"Rimfire's fevers up, n' he's moaning n' thrashing around something terrible." Modo's tail lashed agitatedly from side to side as he spoke.
"Carbine cook up some more omelettes for Modo; Modo the best thing you can do now is eat – you have to stay strong." Freda had already gotten up and walked to the door. She squeezed Modo's good arm reassuringly before heading upstairs again. Modo sank heavily into one of the old wooden kitchen chairs that wasn't already occupied. Carbine stood up and began heating the pan up for more omelettes, quietly confident about cooking for the first time in her life. Modo raised a quizzical eyebrow to his friends; they just shrugged. Throttle quietly got up and disappeared after Freda.
Rimfire looked to be in a real mess. He was far too hot and Freda had no clue what human drugs would do to the Martian mouse. Freda groaned as Rimfire shifted restlessly. She wished again that Charley hadn't saddled her with the problem, but from what Charley had said she'd only patched up injuries that were relatively easy to heal up on the bro's. Freda reckoned broken bones and wounds caused by lasers were serious, but Charley had brushed it off with a laugh and a smile. She rubbed her forehead thoughtfully, neither she nor Charley had any experience or training for this situation; even the mice didn't seem very knowledgeable on what to do. Throttle appeared in the doorway breaking Freda's pessimistic line of thought.
"Anything I can do?" The tan furred leader asked quietly.
"Are there any Martian medical supplies on that ship? Mainly I'm asking about anti-fever stuff? Or should I risk giving him human stuff?" Freda asked.
"Hmmm, unlikely to be anything on the ship; some stuff works on us I think – Charley would be the one to ask though." Throttle said before disappearing to do just that.
"Come on Rimfire, work with me here." Freda pleaded as she fought to lower the young mouse's temperature with cold water. Throttle reappeared.
"Charley says she doesn't know, she mainly tried painkillers due to the injuries we got fighting fish face and his cronies." Throttle shrugged. "Sorry Freda girl."
"No worries." Freda sighed. "Guess we'll fight this the old fash... ioned way?"
"What is it Freda?" Throttle asked in concern.
"Throttle tell Charley to go get Indian Tonic Water! Preferably the strongest she can get – hurry!" Freda paused. "Medicine chest..."
Throttle stared at her blankly. Freda rose and pushed the mouse out of the door.
"Now! Throttle, now!" Freda ran to her room and pulled a small wooden chest from under her bed. She fumbled with the key; now if only she had some knowledge as to how to prepare the stuff. She grasped her prize and ran back into the room where Rimfire lay. She set the small box down and picked up one of her books on historical medicine. Surely one of them would tell her what she needed to know.
Throttle raced downstairs and into the kitchen.
"Charley, Freda asks can you go and get Indian Tonic Water." Throttle paused verifying in his own mind that he'd got the name right. "The strongest you can get."
"Indian Tonic Water?" Charley frowned. "That's a soft drink."
"I don't know –but I think Freda's on to something!" Throttle chivvied Charley out of the door.
"Some kinda medicine?" Modo suggested hopefully.
"Yeah, but then Charley girl would know what it was then wouldn't she?" Vinnie pointed out, the very idea of reassurance lost on him.
Charley returned an hour later loaded down with the strongest bottles of tonic water she could find. She'd had to ask what would be strongest; luckily an old guy in the shop had appeared to know the answer. The mice looked sceptical, but helped her haul it upstairs. They found Freda poring over the books Throttle had left earlier.
"What's wrong Freda ma'am?" Modo asked worriedly.
"Nothing Modo – I'm just trying to find something to help Rimfire." Freda answered distantly. "From now on I'll try to get Rimfire's drinking tonic water – it might help him, if it doesn't it shouldn't harm him."
"Ah, ok – so what exactly is in this stuff?" Stoker asked sceptically looking at a bottle he'd pulled out of a bag.
"An old human remedy – I'll explain when it works and I'm not busy." Freda swatted at Stoker who had started peering over at the page she was skim reading. The others left except for Modo, who set up a vigil in a chair on the other side of the bed. Freda kept reading through the night, desperate for the answer to her question.
:D just as a small heads up - I'm working on a tentative theory that most people in the local area of where the bro's, Charley and Limburger live are going to know about the bro's being mice - thus they don't worry too much when giant mice walk in ;)
And for those wondering what is in that Tonic Water - read on ;)
Please review and/or leave constructive criticism :D
