Yay! New chapter! Thanks again for reviews. Appreciate them as always. :)

Chapter Twenty-One

Alley could hardly sleep that night, tossing and turning in her bed, trying to get comfortable. Her dreams were disjointed and strange. Not outright nightmares, but disturbing nonetheless. It didn't help that every time she closed her eyes, she found herself back at the lake, wrapped in Throttle's arms.

When the clock read four-thirty, she finally gave up and struggled out of bed, yawning widely and raking her fingers through the tangles in her hair. By habit, she reached for the bag of pellets to feed Mercedes, only to remember that she was no longer there. Grumbling, she gathered the supplies, tossed them into the cage, and carried the entire contraption to her closet and shoved it inside. There, she decided. Out of sight, out of mind.

Still half-asleep, she threw on her robe and stumbled out to the kitchen to fix herself some coffee. She considered making eggs, decided she wasn't awake enough to risk fiddling with Charley's ancient, temperamental stove, and settled for cold cereal instead. That early in the morning, there wasn't much of anything on. She stared listlessly at reruns of the Twilight Zone, ate her Cheerios, and tried to decide what to do next about her college situation.

Next thing she knew, she found herself jerking awake as the floor shook and rumbled; someone was opening the garage door. Realizing she'd dozed off, she glanced at the wall clock to see that it read quarter to seven. "Morning sunshine," Charley called from the kitchen as heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.

"And a good morning to you, too, Beautiful," Vinnie announced cheerfully as he wrapped his tail around Charley's waist to pull her in for a hug.

She rolled her eyes and gave his chest a light swat. "I wasn't talking to you," she teased, untangling herself and striding toward Alley, offering the sleepy blonde a fresh cup of coffee.

Vinnie crossed his arms with a petulant pout, ears drooping. "I tell ya, I get no love," he complained to his snickering bros.

Charley paused on her way back to the kitchen just long enough to reach up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Morning, handsome," she murmured into his ear, causing his entire face to flush pink as the snickers turned into outright laughter.

Alley ignored their antics and sipped her coffee, wondering if she should go back to bed. She didn't think she could deal with the obnoxious flirting today. She risked a quick peek over the back of the couch. Throttle leaned against the wall, arms crossed and one leg propped, the very picture of casual aloofness. He was very carefully not looking at her. She sighed and turned around again.

"Oh, yeah. I found this in the mail slot this morning." Charley waved a white cardboard envelope with the Fed Ex logo stamped on it, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of her cousin.

"Mom overnighted them? That had to be expensive." Frowning, Alley slit open the envelope and pulled out a thin stack of papers, looking them over. "I dunno, Charley. You think old report cards and homework papers will really be enough to convince them I was set up?" she asked doubtfully.

"All you can do is try," her cousin replied. "Ask your friends to get you in to see the dean. He's their father, right? If you explain to him, I'm sure he'll be willing to help."

"Yeah, okay. I'll stop by the college today and see if Chex can help me out. Or maybe Chris. He seems to have more influence with his parents." Alley could only hope he'd be willing to help her. Given his reaction last night, she wasn't too sure he'd be willing to even talk to her. The thought left a sour feeling in her stomach. "I'm gonna go change," she mumbled, standing. As she passed Throttle, she gave him a hopeful glance and a small smile. His gaze slid her way, and she saw his eyes widen behind his field specs as he gave her a long once-over.

"What?" She glanced down at herself, wondering what was wrong. Did she spill coffee on her pajamas or something?

"Nothin'," he muttered, pushing off the wall and wandering into the kitchen. Stung, she looked at Modo and Vinnie, who merely shrugged, looking as confused as she felt. She shook her head, turned and stomped to her room. Whatever. Her situation with Throttle would have to wait for a bit. She had more important things to deal with at the moment.

Three hours later, Alley plopped down on a bench under an oak tree on the East Campus and tried not to give in to frustrated tears. She had taken a cab to the campus hoping to see Mr. Archer, but had been firmly rebuffed by the ever-vigilant Mary. Meetings all day, she'd said. Not to be disturbed.

Alley had next tried texting Chex, only to discover that her class schedule was booked full until well into the afternoon. Finally, she'd tried texting Chris. As she'd feared, he refused to respond. Nor did he answer when she tried to call. She told herself it was probably because he was in class and had the phone turned off, but part of her knew it was more than that.

"Wow. You look like the whole world just imploded."

Startled, Alley glanced up to find Chex bouncing toward her, dressed in skin-hugging black jeans and an electric blue, medieval-looking corset blouse with long bell sleeves. The outfit was finished off with a pair of studded biker boots and a lace choker studded with blue metallic roses.

"You goin' on a date?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.

The redhead plopped down beside her. "The step-monster insisted I dress 'classy' for school." She grinned, holding out her arms. "This is me bein' classy." She riffled around her leather bag and pulled out a canned coffee. "Want one? I've got like six of 'em in here."

"Isn't that heavy?"

"Sure. But it works great as a weapon to beat off my countless admirers." She grinned and popped the tab, taking a long swig. "Ahhh, caffeine. The ambrosia of life for college students everywhere," she sighed.

Alley laughed, accepting a can of mocha espresso and taking a sip.

"So, you get anywhere with Pops?"

She sighed. "No. Mary refused to let me in. I tried calling Chris but … he won't answer. I think he's kinda disgusted with me."

"Oh, don't worry about him. He's a spaz but he's cool. He'll come around. Eventually." Chex took another swig out of her can. "And if he doesn't, I'll just beat some sense into him, is all." She finished off the coffee and tossed the can into a nearby garbage bin. "This whole thing is just weird. I mean, I don't ever remember a student getting kicked out and being accused of cheating after the term already started. They usually catch it way ahead of time. Someone really dropped the ball on that one. Their ass better get fired."

"Except I didn't cheat," Alley grumbled. "I was totally set up. Charley thinks my files were hacked through the school system. And the guys think Limburger has something to do with it. I think I was just the victim of a prank or something."

"Hmmm…" Chex tipped her head back. "Speaking of the Purple People Eater, I haven't seen him around campus lately. Not for a week or two, at least. Even his smelly goons stopped showing up. Little weird under the circumstances, dontcha think?"

"That could just be coincidence."

"Or maybe the guys are on to something. Like, what if it was a setup? An inside job! What if Limburger promised to leave the school alone if someone, like, changed all your records or something?"

"But why?" Alley huffed a frustrated sigh. "What purpose would doing that serve? The school sits on valuable property, and Limburger's entire purpose for being here is to strip-mine choice property for his own planet's needs. He'd stand to lose a lot more than he'd gain by promising to leave it alone, just to ruin the reputation of one student."

"It is a conundrum. Lucky for you, I love a good mystery. So I'll help you solve this one! I can go undercover, snoop around in the office files and stuff for clues. There're advantages to being the dean's kid, you know." Chex slung a conspiratorial arm around Alley's shoulders. "And in exchange," she added with a smirk, "you can tell me all about your hot date with Throttle." She batted her heavily-lined eyes and affected a Valley Girl accent. "So, like, are you two, like, going steady?"

"Not hardly. He has a girlfriend."

She winced, removing her arm. "Ooh. Ouch."

Alley snorted. "You can say that again." She fiddled with the can in her hands. "It's all awkward between us now. I don't think he knows what to say to me."

"Well, no wonder. I mean, he cheated on his girl."

"He didn't cheat!" Alley blushed when Chex raised an eyebrow at her outburst. "I mean … not really. I didn't sleep with him, if that's what you're thinking. But I guess what we did do was bad enough."

"Too bad." Chex smirked. "Goin' by what I saw last night, I bet it would've been hot." She tugged at the collar of the dark purple lace blouse Alley had thrown on over a black camisole, to hide the majority of the bruises.

Alley stared at her. "You don't think it's … weird? Me making out with a giant mouse?"

"Please." Chex laughed. "You've never met my friends. You ain't seen weird until you meet a guy with metal spikes drilled into his skull. He can switch 'em out and everything! Last I saw him, he had a rainbow on his head. It was awesome."

Alley giggled, finishing off her coffee and tossing the can. "That definitely sounds … colorful. By the way, aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Yeah, I've got one starting any second now. I was on my way when I saw you sitting here being all mopey."

"Won't you get in trouble for being late?"

"Pfft. What're they gonna do, kick the dean's kid outta the classroom?"

Alley's lips twitched. "Noooo … but the professor might complain to your dad about it. Or worse. Your step-mom."

"Oh. That's a good point." Chex picked up her bag and hopped to her feet. "Sorry, girl. Love to stay and keep prying info outta you, but I've got creative writing to attend."

"Have fun! Guess I'll call a cab back to the garage in the meantime. Nothing else I can do here, for now."

"You're not getting a pickup?"

"Charley needs her truck, and frankly, the thought of getting on the back of one of those motorcycles again freaks me the hell out. Those guys are scary when they ride!"

"Damn. I'm jealous." Chex sniggered at Alley's expression. "Look, there's a shuttle that transports students between the campuses. It shows up in front of the Atrium like every two hours. Just ride that to the city campus and catch a bus line from there to the garage. Way cheaper than a cab."

"Isn't that for the students, though?"

"Uh, hello. You are a student. At least you will be when this crap gets sorted out. You still have your ID, right? Just flash it at the driver and hop on. Not like he'd know the difference."

"Sure. I'll do that. Thanks."

"Right. Well, gotta book. Later!" Chex turned and made a mad dash for the nearest building, leaving Alley alone on the bench.

She sighed and got up, trudging toward the Atrium and trying her best to look like an aloof, bored student just waiting for a ride as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She jumped a bit when her phone suddenly buzzed, pulled it from her pocket to find a message from Chex.

Oh, yeah. Almost forgot. I told the step-monster about your jewel stuff. Here's her business email address. Mail her a pic of the necklace and any other pieces you have and tell her you're looking for appraisal with interest in selling. Trust me, she'll be ALL over it. Later!

Alley smiled and put the phone away. Well, one thing seemed to be going right, at least. Charley would be glad to hear the news.

Chex was right about the shuttle. When the short white bus finally pulled up, Alley took a fortifying breath, flashed her most innocent smile and her student ID, and made beeline to the very back of the vehicle when the driver hardly gave her a glance. Three other students boarded with her; none of them paid her any attention, and she relaxed.

She found herself dozing on the ride back into the city, jerked awake when the bus pulled to a stop and the other passengers noisily got up and filed off. She grabbed her bag and hastily followed, finding herself in front of a tall, gleaming skyscraper of a school. She released a breath and pulled her phone, using its GPS to locate the nearest bus route. There was one only two blocks over. Hiking her bag over her shoulder, she started to walk. She'd barely taken ten steps, however, before a horribly familiar voice brought her up short.

"Well, well, young lady. We meet yet again."

Alley froze, a shiver trembling up her spine as a gaudy Rolls Royce pulled up to the curb beside her. The faint whiff of rotten fish drifted through the open window, making her nose itch and a hard sneeze threaten to erupt; she forced it back by sheer willpower, stepping further away from the curb as the limo's suicide door swung open and Limburger's gleaming eyes peered out at her from the shadowed exterior of the car. Those eyes reminded her of a shark, cold and lifeless. So did his wide smile, all teeth and false charm.

"Lawrence Limburger. What an … unexpected surprise," she said, relieved when her voice sounded steady and calm.

"Yes. Quite," he responded. "If you would be so kind, I do wonder if you might spare a few moments of your time?"

The chills grew stronger and Alley swallowed, hard. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, I'm afraid. Got a bus to catch—"

"Oh, this won't take long. I merely wish to discuss some business with you. A few minutes, that is all I require. If you would kindly take a seat?" He gestured to the cushy bench seat across from him.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that getting into cars with complete strangers is a terribly bad idea? I'm afraid I'll have to pass. Send me a letter. I'm sure you know where to address it." She started to back away, only to be brought up short as something hard poked firmly into her back. Startled, she glanced over her shoulder … and nearly had a heart attack as a huge, smelly goon dripping grease and dressed in filthy overalls leered down at her.

"Da boss asked yas nicely ta gets in da car, girly," he growled, prodding harder with the gun. "So gets in."

"My associate, Greasepit." Limburger gave a dismissive wave. "Best do as he says. He's not a particularly good shot, but at this range I doubt even he can miss."

Heart sinking, Alley reluctantly climbed into the limo and curled up on the seat across from the Plutarkian, calling herself all sorts of stupid. She should've bolted the moment she'd heard his voice, but how was she supposed to know he'd be ballsy enough to grab her in broad daylight, in the middle of downtown Chicago?

The door slammed shut, and the car pulled from the curb, merging into traffic as horns blared and tires screeched to avoid collision. The interior of the limo was frigid, the air conditioning turned up full-blast. And even that couldn't quash the thick, maelstrom stench of too many air fresheners, old cigars, and the rancid, toe-curling odor of rotting seafood. Alley breathed shallowly and tried her best not to be sick all over Limburger's nice, purple-upholstered seat. "So, you wanted to talk. So talk," she snapped, affecting a bravado she was far from feeling at the moment.

"Oh, don't be tiresome," Limburger sniffed. "No need to look at me like that. After all, we're not, in fact, complete strangers. You know me, I'm sure. And I do know all about you, Miss Allyson Kelly Davidson." His smile reappeared. "Or, should I say … Parker?"

Alley blinked in surprise.

"I hear you've been having some … difficulty in regards to your educational endeavors these days," he continued, his voice practically dripping well-feigned sympathy.

Her eyes narrowed. "You heard that, huh? Boy, bad news sure travels fast."

"Indeed. And I believe I may be of some assistance in regards to this particular issue. I am, after all, quite influential in this city. A well-respected citizen. An entrepreneur. An—"

"—illegal alien?" Alley cut in sweetly. At his raised eyebrow, she pasted on her most innocent expression. "I've heard rumors."

His thick lips curled. "In point of fact, a few phone calls and some words from me will go quite a long way to restoring your academic reputation to its former glory. I daresay your scholarship funding will be reinstated, your classes rescheduled, and it will be as if this little … mishap never occurred in the first place."

Alley pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And you're going to do this for me from the overwhelming generosity of your heart, I suppose?"

He snorted. "Don't be absurd, Miss Parker—"

"It's Miss Davidson to you."

"Now, now. Let us keep our tempers, shall we?" His smile was cold. "As I was saying, I am a businessman, and this is a business proposition. I can give you what you want. And if my many sources are to be believed, you can give me something I want, in exchange."

"And that would be…?"

"Information."

She waited for the addendum. When none was forthcoming, she frowned. "Information," she repeated. "That's it?"

"Quite." Limburger removed a small tin from his pocket, selected a sample of its contents, and slurped down what looked like a limp noodle. Then, noting his guest's stare, he offered the tin to her. "Would you care for a taste? They are the very finest quality."

Alley leaned in for a closer look, curious despite herself … and instantly recoiled when the contents squirmed.

Limburger chuckled, clearly pleased by her reaction. "They are called Plutarkian Slug Worms," he explained. "Although the name is a bit misleading as they're completely earthen in origin. My own creation, actually. Genetically spliced from your common earthworms and garden-variety slugs, with just a pinch of snail thrown in. The taste is exquisite." He sighed blissfully, and Alley shuddered. "They are considered quite the rare delicacy on Plutark, which means, of course, that I can charge a large fortune for a small sample, and Plutarkians will pay through the gills to obtain it." He slurped down another worm with relish. "Are you certain you would not care for a taste?"

"No thanks. I just ate," Alley muttered, shrinking back into her seat, not even trying to hide her disgust.

"Your loss." He snapped the tin closed. "As I was saying," he continued, "my sources have informed me that you and I share a common acquaintance with a certain trio of, shall we say ... individuals."

Alley decided there was no point in pretending; he'd obviously done his homework and knew exactly who she was. "I'm assuming you're talking about the Biker Mice," she replied, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands primly atop her knee.

"Indeed. Those destructive, flea-ridden miscreants and their overbearing machismo! Pestilent parasites, the lot of them!" he snarled, slamming his fist against the seat, before remembering himself and clearing his throat. "But, ironically enough, it is not them I have vested interest in." He straightened his tie. "There has been a fourth mouse seen coming and going these past few weeks. A rather infamous leader of their little rebel band. He's been on earth before, but never for such prolonged periods. So, I must say I am quite curious to know what he's been about these days. Perhaps you can satisfy my curiosity?"

Alley pursed her lips, considered … then shrugged. "If you're talking about Stoker, he isn't their general anymore. He retired. His niece has taken over. Or so I've been told."

"Yes, yes, I know all that already," he snapped, waving her off irritably. "What I want to know is why he came to earth and what he's been up to down here!"

She shrugged again. "I can't tell you that. I have no idea what he gets up to. Nobody does. He's very hush hush about the whole thing."

"Ah, but he is up to something, isn't he?" Limburger smiled evilly. "Slippery as an eel, that one. Coming and going at all hours. Oh, I've had him followed but he's too wily and too cautious for that. Gives me the slip every time. Infuriating, really. But! I know he is working on something big, which might possibly tip the balance of power out of Plutark's favor and turn the war around, and that simply will not do."

Alley shifted uncomfortably. "Well, like I said, I don't know anything, so I'm afraid I can't help you. Can I get out now?"

"But we are not finished conversing yet," Limburger purred. "You may not know anything now, but my sources inform me that Stoker seems to have taken quite a … fancy to you." His lips pulled into a sneer. "Use your feminine wiles! Charm the information out of him. If he's anything like those other rodents, he'll be putty in your pretty little hands."

"You want me to seduce him?" Alley felt her face slowly turning red.

"Oh, nothing so tawdry as that," he sniffed. "Simply cozy up to him, simper and flatter and pull the information from his besotted brain before he even realizes he's let it slip. Then, pass it on to me." He reached into his jacket, withdrew a foil-embossed business card and offered it to her. "When you find the answers I seek, come see me here. You give me whatever information you've obtained, I make those phone calls, and voila, your credibility and your scholarship is fully restored."

Alley accepted the card, frowning. "And what do you plan to do with the information?" she asked.

"That, my dear girl, is hardly your concern. Your job shall be quite finished by then."

She pursed her lips. "I still don't see why I should help you. You've made my cousin's life a living hell, trying to take her garage. Helping you would be the same as betraying her."

"And why should that matter?" he sniffed. "After all, it isn't as though you're really cousins, now is it, Miss Parker?"

Alley flushed, opening her mouth to retort, but a command from Limburger had the car lurching toward the curb, throwing her off-balance as the brakes slammed on and brought it to a screeching halt. The driver door banged, and a few moments later, the passenger door swung open. She cringed away at the sight of the three-eyed … thing in a driver's cap grinning up at her. It held the door open with one arm and gestured at her to exit with the tentacle that made up its other. "Watch your step," the creature intoned cheerfully as she hastily scrambled from the limo.

"Do consider my proposition carefully," Limburger called after her. "You have much to gain by your cooperation, you know. The restoration of your scholarly endeavors could be only the beginning! Why, a man of my wealth and influence could—"

"Okay, I get the point!" she snapped, stuffing the card into her pocket. "Just … gimme a bit. I've gotta think it over. Stoker's not an idiot, you know."

"Of course," he purred, lips curling into a triumphant smirk. "And I need not tell you to keep our little rendezvous between just the two of us. After all, as they say, discretion is the better part of valor."

"Great. An alien fish who quotes Shakespeare," she muttered as the car moved on with a screech of rubber. She glanced around, realizing with uneasy shock that she'd been dropped off in a rather unsavory section of town. The buildings were far more rundown, the roads pitted and cracked, and the population seemed to be nonexistent. Cursing under her breath, she pulled up her GPS again to locate Charley's garage, finding with surprise that she stood only six blocks away from it.

Unfortunately, those six blocks happened to be in the wrong direction from the nearest bus station; she'd have to walk past her destination in order to catch a bus. Looked like she was gonna have to hoof it. At least, she thought dryly, the hike would give her time to air out the stench she was sure had seeped into her clothes and hair by then. As it was, she probably wouldn't be smelling anything but dead fish for the next few days. Ugh. Talk about an appetite killer.

Sighing heavily, she began trudging toward the Last Chance Garage, wondering just how much weirder her life could possibly get.

Ooooo! The plot thickens! I hope I did Limburger justice. He's so much fun to write! XD

Oh, yes. And when he says HE spliced together the slug worms, he really means Karbunkle did the splicing and he took the credit and the profit. But we all knew that, right?

And finally, thanks to FairDrea for helping me come up with creative insults for the mice via Limburger. He's so poetic with the insults, isn't he? XD