This is Prompt No. 101-Writer's Choice (Brown)

As soon as Mitchie completely entered the laboratory, the smells of the chemicals wafted up to meet her. She tried not to make a face as she smelled something about ten scales above the horrible point.

"Uncle Brown!" Shane called, stepping inside and shutting the door so that the fumes would not drift into the rest of the base and contaminate it. Mitchie felt a slight sense of panic as she watched her only outlet to the normal air that people had no aversion to breathing disappear. Then, she berated herself, realizing that such a paranoid thought was silly.

"One moment!" a muffled voice called from somewhere else entirely. Mitchie's head swiveled in the general direction of the voice, but she couldn't discern where it came from. Her vision was blocked by the vast assortment of various glass bottles lined up in rows, containing all different, hideous colors of liquid inside of them.

Finally, a door banged somewhere and a tall man stepped into view. He wasn't young, but he wasn't as old as the general. His sandy blonde hair was cut short and it stood up on end, probably from the constant run-through he gave it. Now Mitchie knew where Shane got some of his traits. "Well hello, hello!" he exclaimed cheerily, and his voice carried an accent that Mitchie found charming, homey, and friendly all at the same time.

"Uncle Brown," Shane began, "this is-"

"Mitchie!" Brown exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together and then coming forward to give Mitchie a hug. She didn't mind, and she actually smiled and hugged him back. His honest, kind face gave her nothing to worry about.

"I'm pleased to meet you," Mitchie said politely, wide smile on her face as Brown drew back from the hug.

"Me too!" he exclaimed, his mannerisms charming and formality-lacking, which Mitchie liked immediately. "I'm blue that I couldn't come to the wedding."

"It wasn't a big deal," Mitchie said, almost before she could think about what she was saying. She felt a strong drive to keep this friendly little man worry-free.

"Of course it was!" Brown insisted, throwing an arm around Shane. "Both my nephews married, and I didn't get to see either of them because of this blasted business."

"Which you love more than air," Shane remarked good-naturedly.

Brown shrugged, but didn't deny the statement. "Either way, they both picked out beautiful sheilas." He grinned. "They get that sense from me."

Shane snorted, teasing his uncle once more. "Yet who's the one that's not married?" he challenged.

Brown swatted at him and growled playfully. "They didn't get their manners from me, though," he teased right back, ruffling Shane's immaculate hair because he knew that would annoy him. Sure enough, Shane was kept occupied for a few moments, readjusting his hair to perfection.

"We just stopped by to say hi," Shane told him, running his hand over his head once more, cautiously testing to make sure that there was no permanent damage done.

"I'm so glad you did," Brown replied. "I just love company. It gets so lonely down here with just the gadgets and clothes to talk to."

Shane turned to Mitchie and explained, "Brown is our master inventor. He designs all the costumes, all the props, everything we use on our missions."

"As well as all the poisons and things like that," Brown added proudly.

Suddenly, all the colors in the glass bottles made sense. This was how people in the Confederate army mysteriously died. "Oh," she said softly, not as impressed as Brown had hoped.

"I know you have lots to do," he said with a smirk, "but there's one thing I want to show Mitchie before she leaves."

Shane nodded. "We have plenty of time."

The smile on Brown's face proved that Shane had made a good choice in staying. "Come this way," he ordered excitedly, taking Mitchie's hand and leading her far into the back, opening and closing two doors before he reached his destination.

As he stopped her in front of "it", Brown looked at Mitchie expectantly, and she knew that she should look excited, thrilled beyond words, but she couldn't, for obvious reasons. "I feel so silly right now," she told him honestly, "but I don't know what it is."

Brown laughed and it was his turn to look embarrassed. "No, I suppose you wouldn't," he told her. "Forgive me, you shouldn't know. Take a good look and tell me what it looks like."

Mitchie's brow furrowed as she took in the large black machine, covered in shiny metal and a sturdy canvass top. She searched through the interior, looking at the seats, the strange circle that popped out of the front of the machine, and the strange hump in the front of the whole contraption. She took in the wheels, much the same as a horse carriage, and finally said, "I'm probably wrong, but I'd say that it was a horseless carriage."

Brown looked so proud of her that for a moment, Mitchie thought that he was going to start giving a speech. "You are absolutely right, my dear," he said excitedly. He turned to Shane and grinned. "You sure know how to pick 'em! Guess you do get it from me."

Mitchie blushed, but Shane just grinned. "Well," he prompted. "Explain it to her."

Brown nodded happily, completely in his element. "You were right," he told Mitchie again. "A horseless buggy is exactly what it is. I designed it myself, and it's rather in the works, but it's a buggy that doesn't take horses to pull it. It runs by itself."

"Really?" Mitchie asked, intrigued. "How?"

Brown actually blushed. "That's the problem. "I'm not exactly sure how it works. I started fiddling around with a few spare parts, building something, though I didn't know what, and that's what I came up with. It runs, but I'm going to have to dismantle it and figure out why it runs."

"Well I think that it's amazing," Mitchie complimented him. "What do you call it?"

Shane chuckled and Brown blushed again. "I call it C.A.R."

Mitchie frowned, confused by the acronym. "What does it stand for?" she asked curiously.

"Careening Around Roads," Brown told her.

"Yup," Shane agreed with a chuckle. "Mostly, careening around base floors. He took that thing out once, and only once." He chuckled, and Mitchie laughed as well, slightly able to picture what he was talking about. She could just see Brown and his new invention, careening around the base corners crying, "I've done it!" or something to that extent.

Brown swatted again at his nephew, but the latter dodged out of his way playfully. "I think we should get going, Mitch," he crooned. "You never know what he might put in your tea if he asked you to stay."

Brown gave him a mock scathing look. "Oh her tea would be fine," he said and trailed off mysteriously.

Mitchie laughed and responded, "Then we'd better go. I want to actually have a husband for a while before I lose him."

Her face fell and her shoulders slumped slightly as she realized that she wouldn't have nearly as long as she wanted with him, no matter what. Shane would not be there for her forever. Brown noticed her look and said congenially, "You're welcome around the lab anytime. Pop in to say hi, or for some tea." He winked at her. "I won't poison it."

Mitchie smiled and nodded her thanks and Shane led her out the door, thanking Brown on the way out. "We'll see you later," he told Brown.

"I'm counting on it," Brown replied, and then added, so low that Mitchie couldn't hear, "You've picked a really good one."

Shane nodded. "Oh believe me," he said, "I know."

The door shut behind him and Shane and Mitchie were left on their own. "The tunnel continues down a ways, and that's where our room is," he told her.

Our room. Mitchie had to admit that she liked the sound of that. She squeezed his hand slightly as they continued down the tunnel, and he squeezed back. Her heart pounded, with anticipation and not fear, as they stopped in front of their door. "Ready?" Shane asked her.

Mitchie nodded, and she knew that it was the truth. "Yes," she told him.

The stepped inside and Shane turned to smile slightly at Mitchie. "Shut the door, dear wife of mine," he whispered, kissing her softly, and Mitchie obeyed.