Thanks so much for the love and thoughts from all of you.

I'm sorry the last chapter was a bit shorter than the others, and lacking Modo and Charley.

But!

Hopefully you will therefore appreciate this rapid update (I'd already written half of it when I uploaded the fight scene, which I specifically wanted to be one chapter).

This chapter will have everyone again, as well as being much longer than the previous one.

Ready for learning about these Martian customs?

Enjoy!

At first, his heart pounded rapidly in his chest. Heavy and burdened from what had happened between them. But once it became clear what the actual reason was behind the phone call, his pulse slowed down and instead a wave of confusion and disbelief bubbled to the surface.

Right before hanging up, the urge to ask his bro if he was feeling alright, rested on the tip of his tongue. Only something held him back from continuing.

Perhaps due to the news that was just dropped on him like a piano or because he was worried hearing the other mouse's response. It was probably both, even though something told him that he already knew how Vinnie felt.

That he wasn't doing alright.

The good thing was, that Modo now knew that he was somewhere safe. Although, after what he'd just heard, it seemed things were actually anything but fine back at the scoreboard.

He still couldn't believe it. Stoker and Throttle had been in a fight.

Not just a run-of-the-mill wrestle or a you-beat-me-at-poker punching fest. If he'd understood Vinnie correctly, their current leader had challenged their former coach for the affection of Izzy.

Mate guarding.

When was the last time he'd actually been a witness to that? Had he ever been? Modo honestly couldn't recall. He had been mostly busy with the war and making sure his own family was alright. Besides, there wasn't always time to focus on a girl even if they happened to be around.

Heck, Throttle had been lucky in finding Carbine. As well as the fact that she had accepted and returned his feelings. Vinnie and Stoker's mutual interest in Harley had been a more difficult subject, but even that didn't take too long to resolve.

That was probably thanks to Harley, who'd made it clear she was more interested in their youngest bro instead of the rebel leader. Some stories of love were easy ones and some weren't.

Modo climbed the steps towards the bedroom, where Charley was currently sleeping.

Today had been a tiring day. Mentally and physically. A kidnapping, a rescue, followed by a declaration of love from one of her best friends. No wonder she was exhausted.

Of course, Modo wanted nothing more than to tell her that Vinnie was no longer missing and that Izzy was safe and sound as well. But he knew that he couldn't bring himself to tell her about the incident between Stoker and Throttle.

Knowing her, she would want to leave the garage and head over to the scoreboard immediately, to make sure her sister-in-law and everyone else was doing okay. It was understandable, but Modo wanted her to think of herself for once.

Yes. He was going to eventually tell her about the fight, just not now. Besides, according to Vinnie, the entire thing was already over. Although, when Modo asked him who had won the battle, the white mouse wasn't entirely sure.

Apparently Throttle had done some serious damage to Stoker, biting the older mouse into submission. Yet the other had fought bravely and stayed strong, with no intention of giving up.

Right as Vinnie thought it was over and done with, their former coach had turned the tables around and managed to escape Throttle's hold.

The fight probably would have gone on for a longer while, if Izzy hadn't stepped up and begged them to stop. Her action automatically forced Vinnie to interfere with the others. Because he couldn't let the human female get into the middle of their fight on her own.

Modo agreed that it had been the right choice. Yet, he still found the entire situation ridiculous and perhaps compelling them to stop their challenge, could also do more harm than good. But that was something they could deal with later.

The next thing they'd have to take care of, was explaining to Izzy what had happened. Why the two of them had fought in the first place.

It seemed Stoker had marked Izzy at some point. It was no secret to Modo that his former leader liked Izzy a whole lot.

No. Love was more accurate.

But marking her was irresponsible, even if Stoker was known for his disregard for playing by the rules, this was a dumb move. Surely the older mouse had a good reason for pulling such a stunt.

Could he have done it because he thought Throttle was infatuated with the woman as well, and that he expected him to maybe make a move on her? Or because he wanted everyone else to see that he was very much in love with her?

Ultimately it wasn't that important. Because no matter how you looked at it, it wasn't respectful towards Izzy.

The thing that confused Modo the most, however, was why Throttle hadn't simply accepted Stoker's claim on her. He knew about Stoker's history with Harley and Vinnie.

Their coach had already suffered losing a woman to another mouse. And now it almost happened again, something he most likely didn't want to experience for a second time.

A female got marked and then another mouse had entered that territory. Stoker had every right to fight Throttle. As was the custom set by their people long ago.

Modo stopped halfway up the staircase and let out a deep breath, suddenly understanding what he should have realized before. "Throttle likes her too."

He furrowed his brow. "No way,-" He muttered.

How had he not seen that before? There had been numerous signals. Throttle's nervous attitude around Izzy. His cold and distant respond whenever they discussed Stoker's behaviour regarding the woman.

Oh this was bad. Throttle was already involved with Carbine. If she found out about this, she was going to kill him or worse, Charley's sister-in-law. How could he let this happen?

It wasn't any of their business or responsibility what was going through Throttle's mind, but it was a fact that his behaviour affected all of them.

The tall grey mouse took a few more steps until he reached the entrance of Charley's bedroom. Carefully he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the waterfall of auburn coloured hair spread out like a fan, on top of a white pillow.

The covers moved up and down slowly, indicating she was probably fast asleep. Before the phone had rung, Modo had been lying next to her, gently stroking her hair until she'd finally fallen into a deep slumber.

For a long time, she'd cried against his shoulder. Cried for learning of her brother's hidden past and for having lost him a second time without realizing he had been so close all those past few months.

Thankfully the ringing of the telephone hadn't woken her, but he had reluctantly jumped out of the bed and rushed downstairs before it could.

The door creaked as he pushed it shut behind him and a faint moan came from Charley, followed by the covers stirring slightly.

"Modo?" She asked propping herself up on one elbow.

He smiled and moved closer to sit himself down on her side of the bed. "Sorry. Had to leave for a seconds."

"I thought I heard voices?" Charley continued.

A small lump formed in his throat. He'd told himself he was wasn't going to inform her of what happened at the scoreboard. But he should tell her something about Vinnie. She still worried for him and felt guilty for what he had seen.

"Vinnie called."

As soon as he said that, her eyes widened and she sat a little more upright. "He did? Is he okay?"

"He went to the scoreboard." Modo replied, leaving out the part about how his bro's possible feelings. "The others are there as well."

Charley let out a sigh of relief. "That takes a load off my mind for sure. What about Isabel? Is she there with them or is she coming here?"

The thought of asking Vinnie about Izzy had never really crossed his mind and for a second he felt like an idiot for not having done so. He should have known Charley would ask after her.

He had no idea what might have happened at that club where his bros and Izzy had been. But he could only imagine it hadn't been good. And then that fight between Stoker and Throttle probably was the icing on the cake.

"I don't know, sweetheart. At least she is safe. I take it she's just as exhausted as you are."

His words seemed to falter as Charley all of a sudden threw the blankets aside and was about to slip out of her bed. He stopped her by placing both hands on her shoulders and pulled her back towards him.

"I have to see her, Modo. I have to tell her about Sam,-" She immediately explained him, though she didn't resist his hold on her.

"And you will see her and tell her. But I think that Izzy, like you, really needs her rest. We don't know exactly what took place at that club or what she already knows about Sam. But from what Vinnie has told me, she's having a difficult time."

Of course he had no clue what Charley's sister-in-law was actually going through, but he could only imagine she must be having a hard day if she knew the same things Charley did. Probably even more so.

"Tomorrow might be a better day for all of us?" And that was something he truly meant.

Thankfully Charley appeared to understand and agree with what he was saying. She leaned into his touch and rested the back of her head against his broad chest.

"Will you stay here tonight?" She asked him.

Modo could feel her pulse slightly increasing its speed underneath his fingers, which were gently stroking the side of her neck.

"You know I will. I'm used to sleeping on that couch anyway."

He let out a soft chuckle, one which Charley didn't return. He paused and grabbed her chin to turn her head to him. Her green eyes stared back, like deep pools of a river stream.

"I meant,-" She breathed heavily and suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed. "Here. In my bed?"

Oh, Momma. A part of him wished she wasn't implying what he thought she was. He would not be able to control himself.

He swallowed hard and took a second to study her face, trying to guess if she simply wanted to sleep with him or sleep with him.

It would be the perfect moment. There was nobody there to disturb them. They would have all the peace and quiet in the world.

Would it be considered taking advantage of the situation? If Vinnie had been here instead of him, would she have asked the same?

Immediately that thought changed his mood and he pressed his mouth shut and slightly shifted their position on the bed until his back rested against the headrest.

Charley cocked her head and gave him small smile. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Charley-girl. Just worried about if you're feeling okay. If you're really alright with me staying here with you."

"Of course I am, what do you mean?" She gave him a confused look. "I wouldn't have asked you if I wasn't okay with it."

She raised her hand and placed it against his soft cheek and rubbed her thumb across his fur. Oh, he was definitely not going to be able to resist her if she continued looking at him like that.

"Charley, I have to be honest with you. I,-" His breathing shuddered for a second. "If I stay here, in this bed, with you right next to me underneath the covers. I don't know if I can stay the gentleman you know me to be."

He watched her closely, waiting patiently for a respond. Only she didn't give him one. Not verbally.

Instead she moved and sat down in his lap, placing her legs on either side of him. That one move was enough to push him over the edge. And Modo fell hard and fast. Their mouths met, their scents mingled and their bodies intertwined.

Something Modo had only dreamt of from the day they met and now his dream was becoming a reality.

The Scoreboard

It was nothing more than a scratch. Just a little one. If only she'd been quicker, if only she could have stopped him from walking out of that spacecraft and explain properly that Throttle had not meant to harm her.

Heck, he hadn't even been awake when he scratched her. It had been an accident and everything that happened afterwards was all due to a misunderstanding. Izzy felt incredibly guilty. She should have stopped them both.

The floor was an absolute mess. Tufts of hair, specks of blood. She was currently sitting on one of the armrests of the couch, shifting her gaze between each of the three mice from afar.

After Stoker and Throttle had been stopped by her and Vinnie, the two mice had reluctantly stepped away. Breathing heavily and their gazes still focused on one another.

Beaten, bruised and bloodied.

She'd offered them her help. After all, she was more than willing to check on both of them for the wounds they'd inflicted on each other. But neither of them dared to glance her way, nor did they let her come near.

Stoker had stood up and headed to the kitchen. Vinnie followed him almost immediately, after having given Throttle a stern look and a shake of his head. Out of the two of them, Stoker was the one who'd gotten hurt the most.

The only thing that seemed to bother Throttle, was a dent in his pride. Perhaps a little damage to his ankle. For when he walked away, there was an obvious limp in his tread.

And now here she was. On the couch. Alone. Watching the white mouse take care of Stoker's neck and Throttle sulking somewhere near one of the windows.

What was she suppose to do? She couldn't stop fidgeting her hands. There was a cold and eerie mood hanging in the scoreboard and somehow it felt as if it had all been because of her. It probably was.

Vinnie had said so. He'd said that she was the reason behind Throttle and Stoker being at each other's throats. Izzy felt confused, as well as lost.

What had she done to cause the two of them to fight, up until the point they felt the need to draw blood? Was this the way all Martians fought? Was she that naive that she didn't see what she had done to create this rift between those two?

Quietly she watched Vinnie pressing a towel against Stoker's neck to stop the bleeding. There was a word the white mouse had used earlier to describe the situation. What was it again?

Mate guarding?

It was a word that made no sense to her, though if she analysed them, it was suggestive enough on what it entailed. Something had to be done. Sitting here and waiting for one of the Martians to open their mouths was probably pointless.

Izzy decided she had remained silent long enough. Either someone was going to tell her what she had done, or so help her, she was going to throw something out of the scoreboard.

Without contemplating any further, she left the couch and headed straight for the kitchen. Ready to confront them with her questions.

Whatever it was Stoker and Vinnie were discussing, their voices went quiet the moment she approached them. The hazel mouse lowered his head and looked away as Vinnie straightened himself.

The question that had been lingering on her lips suddenly seemed to have vanished. Seeing the mouse in front of her hurt and withdrawn, hit her. Her heart felt heavy and her stomach empty.

She met Vinnie's eyes and without saying a word, the white mouse threw a quick glance over his shoulder and stepped away.

"I'll check on Throttle." He told her softly.

The minute he was gone, Izzy immediately lowered herself in front of Stoker and placed her hands on his knees. She gave them a gentle squeeze, but the hazel mouse remained silent.

"Let me help you." She said. "Please,-" She added, a slight crack in her voice and the older mouse flinched slightly.

She didn't understand any of this. It wasn't so long ago that they'd kissed each other inside the spacecraft. A few hours after they had saved each other's life. Within a heartbeat all of that changed and now he wouldn't even look at her.

"Stoker, please,-" She pleaded once more. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I did to cause all this. Or what I can do to make it better, but let me at least help you with,-"

"It's not your fault." Stoker interrupted her. "How could you even think that?"

Finally he was looking at her. His burgundy eyes tired and hurt. He squeezed the towel tightly against his neck. "If anyone is at fault, it is me. Well, perhaps him over there is as much to blame as I am."

He nodded in Throttle's direction, whose head was already turned their way. The tanned mouse had no problem overhearing the conversation between them, despite Vinnie babbling away in his other ear.

"Your fault?" Izzy frowned. "Stoker, I don't get it. What do you mean? You're telling me I am not at fault, when Vinnie tells me that I am."

Once again he averted his eyes, only this time to stare at said white mouse in the distance standing next to Throttle. Vinnie wasn't completely wrong with his accusation. But Izzy was only part of the reason. It was not her who forced the two mice to fight.

"Stoker?" She called out to him again.

Oh, Goddess, hearing his name being spoken by her in such a way pained him. She deserved to know everything. But he was worried. So very worried that she was going to leave him because of it.

Today had already been painful enough for her as well as him. She almost died in front of his eyes. He couldn't bear to lose her for real this time.

He felt something wrap itself around his free hand. Stoker looked up and stared deep into Izzy's ocean blue orbs. Her hands were soft, but cold and shivering. Had he not promised himself he was going to stop keeping secrets from her?

Only a few minutes ago he had practically declared his love for her, told her that he was always going to be there for her. That he would be her rock and support.

But he'd also told her he was bad news and him attacking Throttle proved it. Stoker had to defend her from the other mouse and he knew he was right by doing so. Throttle hadn't even tried to stop his attack or denied it. It looked as if he welcomed the challenge.

"Izzy, I,- It is a Martian thing what happened."

A Martian thing. The same thing Vinnie had said to her earlier. She was getting rather fed up with these excuses. Martian thing, her fault, mate guarding. What could possibly be so difficult about this that they were so reluctant to tell her?

The entire day had already been such a mess. The kidnapping, the club, Morden, Sam,- Stoker almost getting shot.

She could feel her skin tingle and her bottom lip quivered as her mind took her back. Memories of the past year, the last couple of hours.

"Do you have any idea, what I have been through the past twelve months?" She suddenly exclaimed in a calm voice.

"I got yanked off a motorcycle in the pouring rain, by a man I trusted with my life. I saw him on the asphalt, thinking he was dead. And when I tried to get to him, an explosion happened and I got hit by a piece of metal, scaring my face for life."

Stoker swallowed a lump which was slowly forming in his throat as he moved his eyes for a swift second towards Izzy's jawline.

"A week later a man shows up at my door, telling me my husband was a gambler and that he owes this man an enormous sum of money. But did I go to Charley or her family? No, instead I worked in a stripclub to pay off my dead husband's debt."

"I let strangers watch me dance, watch me undress, in order to make a lot of money so I could be free as soon as possible."

Stoker felt his heart break into a million pieces as she spoke, but he didn't dare to stop her. She needed this and he needed to hear it. He'd been wanting to hear everything from her and her mouth only.

"Do you know what Morden told me today?" She then said and he couldn't help but wince a little, already knowing what she was probably going to tell him.

"He told me that Sam never died in that crash." Her voice trembled. "I slaved and worked my butt off in that horrid place, while he was out pretending to be dead! Nobody knew. Not even Morden, until I'd finally managed to leave. Morden found him and recruited him, when he could have easily killed him instead. And do you know what Sam did? He went back to gambling, stole something from Morden and then in the end pays with his life for it. He got shot three weeks ago."

So Samuel Davidson had died. Vinnie had told him as much, but he hadn't been entirely sure. It seemed the question if Izzy had known about it, was also answered. She had known. Only not until today. Morden had told her right before trying to choke her to death.

Once again the former rebel leader felt his blood boil. She was already hurting so much and more got dump on her with each passing second. He dropped his other hand, causing bloodstained towel to fall towards the floor.

He placed reached forward and cupped her face. A tear fell from her eye and landed on his thumb.

The woman took a deep breath and pulled Stoker's hand towards her mouth. "You are the only good thing about today." She whispered.

She paused for a second and pressed her lips ever so subtly against his palm, which was rough but without hairs, like a human. She pulled back and looked at him.

"I know I'm not Martian, Stoker. I thought that didn't matter,- But if that is why this happened,- This anger between you and Throttle...I think I deserve to know. Don't I?"

He didn't deserve her. By the Goddesses, he did not.

"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon." He said to her. "Yes, you deserve to know and it is not what you think. I am afraid that you will despise me and even perhaps my culture for it. I did something I shouldn't have done without asking you first and it only caused more things to go wrong."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Vinnie is right, you are part of the reason. But only because you have captured my heart."

Carefully he pulled her up from the ground and set her down in front of him on the table, ready to explain what he had done. What it meant and why there was a chance he might lose her for good.

::::::...::::::

Mate Guarding.

Quite a common phenomenon amongst various species of mammals. Even in humans.

But on Mars, Mate Guarding was an old custom. One that originated during a time when Mars had a severe shortage of females compared to the male population. On average women were outnumbered, given a four to one ratio.

Before the Plutarkian occupation the numbers had luckily gone down from a four to almost two to one. Alas during the war, those numbers rose back to as it once was a long time ago.

In effect, this caused a lot of the older mice to refer back to the old ways of claiming a female quicker in order to secure a way for producing an offspring.

Mice had been known for entering polygamous relationships.

Not only because of the shortage of females, but to increase the chances of expanding the Martian population once again. Sharing became a way and even if not everyone was bothered by it, it did bring along a number of problems.

There simply still was too much of a difference in the male to female ratio. Meaning a lot of male mice could end up never finding a partner or producing an offspring.

Sure, not all mice cared about it. Winning the war was obviously just as important and not everyone had the desire to start a family during such dark times. A lot of men and women thought the same way.

That didn't take away that the Martian population was still thin and the basic needs of their species occurred on a daily basis. Fundamental necessities such as eat, drink, sleep, breathing air and shelter.

But sex was also an essential yearning to satisfy. Despite not everyone wanting a family, the need to have pleasure, one way or another, demanded to be met.

The pheromones produced by the females sometimes made it difficult for others to control their urges. Especially if it turned out there was a biological compatibility between two mice.

The scent fabricated from this chemical reaction could have various reactions on a male. From aggressive behaviour to sexual craving. But the most important one was that of pair bonding.

Thus, the marking of a female or sometimes even male, was brought to life. The marking was almost always done in mutual consent.

A marked mouse meant that person was off limits to anybody else. It was to show that a mate had been chosen and that he or she was not available for other potential partners.

If the original creator of a mark felt threatened by another potential spouse, Mate Guarding could occur. Preventing other potential additional males from claiming her.

This was expressed through either physically defending a female or discussing the situation. Though depending on the current testosterone level of a male mouse, it could go either way.

Should the mouse who marked the female be defeated, the victor was allowed to become the next marker. But only if the female gave her consent. This sometimes happened, as the winner was obviously a good partner. Vigorous and potent.

::::::...::::::

As Stoker spoke, both Vinnie and Throttle had gotten closer. Albeit the latter one stayed a bit behind on purpose. He'd watched the interaction, between his former coach and the woman who made his heart beat faster, from afar.

He didn't like it. It made him resent the other mouse even more and stir up a lingering jealousy within him. But he could also see how she acted towards Stoker. And it wasn't the same as when she looked at him.

Finally the hazel mouse was done with his story on what he had done and how the custom originated. He wasn't sure if he'd left anything out. After all, it originated before his time. But he had told everything that he knew of it.

He watched her with anticipation. Wondering what her respond was going to be. At least she appeared to be calm. His hands still rested against her outer thighs.

"I understand if you hate me for what I've done. Even if you're not able to see it, because you are human. I never should have treated you as such. I should have controlled myself." Stoker let out an exhausted breath.

The throbbing pain in his neck wasn't really helping, nor were the many emotions he was currently feeling. All he really wanted was for Izzy to tell him her thoughts.

"Let me just see if I understand this. You,- marked me?" She frowned for a second and Stoker nodded.

"I did."

"And the reason why you two fought, was because you were under the impression that Throttle wanted,-" Izzy paused and turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder.

Throttle quickly averted his gaze, for the first time since meeting her, he felt quite exposed.

"Whether or not if I am right or wrong about it. We did fight for you." Stoker grimaced and looked into the direction of his bro. "Technically he has a right to express what he wants out of this."

At those words the tanned mouse perked his ears and jerked his head back to the dining table.

But it was Vinnie who opened his mouth. "Technically he can't. He already has someone." He looked at Throttle. "Or have you forgotten about your precious General?"

Izzy shook her head and ran a hand through her honey blonde hair. "You know what? I don't care. I don't care about any of this. I don't care about your customs or rituals." She pushed Stoker's hands away from her legs and got off the table.

"I understand that, basically, I got branded like I'm cattle. Someone's property. And let me tell you, I am nobody's property. I wasn't Sam's, not Morden's and that also includes you."

She tilted her head back as Stoker stood up from his seat in front of her. This was it. She was going to tell him she wanted nothing to do with him anymore and he deserved it.

His heart pounded heavily in his chest and he felt out of breath. At least he had held her. Kissed her more than once and she had kissed him back. Something he would cherish for the rest of his life.

"But,-" Her voice was soft, yet he was certain he had heard her correctly and his fur tingled.

"You have become so important to me since the day we met. All of you." Izzy paused again and inhaled deeply. "And I don't want to lose that. Not because of this. You made me feel something again, Stoker. That is really all that matters."

Stoker really was at a loss for words and then, she placed her soft hands against his chest. In front of the others. But they were no longer there. He could only see her.

"I want you, Stoker." She encircled her arms around him and closed that small gap between them completely.

"My heart..." The hazel mouse whispered quietly.

I hope that wasn't too boring or too much information on a few Martian customs.

Considering this, I would love to know your thoughts about it.

Thank you so much for reading.