Chapter Five
Charlie groaned softly and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to avert the headache that had been brewing all day. All week, in fact. Since they had found out about her stint in the prison camp, the Mice had been tiptoeing around her on padded feet, almost afraid to say anything that might raise the subject again. At least one of them was always there, providing some weird sort of honor guard for her.
It was driving her crazy.
I can remember a time when I would have been thrilled to have Throttle around twenty-four/seven. Now, the sight of any of them standing outside my door makes my want to scream.
Who was currently "on duty"? Charlie craned her neck, and caught a hint of gray fur. "Modo?" she called sweetly.
The big gray warrior peeked into the office. "Yes, Charlie-ma'am?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm famished. I hate to treat you like an errand boy, but could you run out and grab us something? I have to finish up here." It was weak, but it was the only thing she could think of short of physically kicking his big gray butt down the ladder.
"Just a sec, ma'am." Modo disappeared, and Charlie breathed an enormous sigh of relief.
"Hey, Vinnie." Modo poked his head down through the trap door. "Vinnie, get your butt over here."
The white biker turned away from the three female Fighters he was flirting with and groaned up at the older Mouse. "What d'ya want, Bro? I'm kinda busy here!"
"Go grab something for Charlie to eat."
"Why can't you do it?" Vinnie's antennae twitched in the direction of the women. Red heads. Modo tried to hide his grin; Vinnie loved redheads.
"Because it's my turn to look after Charlie-girl. Unless you want Fearless Leader to come after your ass…" Modo allowed his words to trail off, leaving Vinnie contemplating the dangers of an angry Throttle after his tail.
Vinnie sighed and turned back to the woman. "Sorry, ladies, but duty calls."
Modo smiled and resumed his spot outside Charlie's office. To tell the truth, he wasn't finding this glorified guard duty very exciting either, but he couldn't blame Throttle's reasoning. Charlie's little revelation had left them all stunned.
A few moments later, the human woman emerged from her office, empty coffee mug in hand. Her classic double take at Modo's presence made him want to laugh, but she only slipped into the kitchen to refill her coffee before returning to the office. Modo thought he heard something hit the wall.
"Modo?" This time, Charlie's voice wasn't quite so sweet. "Would you come in here please?"
When he looked into the office, she gestured toward the chair on the other side of the desk. "Close the door, please." As he turned, Modo glanced around the room. Sure enough, there was a boot lying over near the wall.
"What is it, Charlie-ma'am?" He knew what it was; he just wanted to avert the shouting.
"I thought you said you'd get something to eat."
"I sent Vinnie. He wasn't doing anythin' but flirting, anyway."
Charlie rested her head in her hands. "Okay, Modo." Her soft, husky voice was slightly muffled. "What is this all about?"
"What is what all about?"
She picked her head up and glared at him. Feeling the full force of her stare, and remembering the way she's taken apart the Plutarkians who'd attacked her, Modo suddenly found himself wishing for Throttle to be in his place. "Modo, sweetie, I would like you to tell me why I find myself accompanied by you and your bros at all hours of the day. If not for the bathroom door, I wouldn't have any privacy at all!"
"Now that's not true, Ma'am. You know we'd never peek at you when you were-"
A frightening noise emerged from Charlie's throat. "Shit, Modo, you know what I mean! I don't need bodyguards! I can take care of myself!"
"I know that, Charlie-ma'am. No one ever said you weren't able to-"
"Shut up and tell me the truth. I want to know why you think you need to protect me! If you don't tell me in the next minute, I'll demonstrate exactly how well I can take care of myself!"
That was it. Modo knew when to stick up for his bros, and when to let them fight their own battles. "You should probably ask Throttle, Ma'am. He wanted us to keep an eye on you."
Charlie, who was all set to continue yelling, took a deep breath. "Where is he?"
"Out with one of the Fighter crews."
Keeping an eye on Modo, she picked up her hand-held and spoke to someone. "Ace, figure out which crew Throttle's with and get in touch with their group leader. I need Throttle here in my office ASAP. No, I don't care where they are right now; I've seen him on that bike and it won't take him more then ten minutes. Okay, thank you. Out." And with that, she placed the communicator back on her desk and smiled at Modo. "Thank you. I think you can go downstairs now. I'm sure there's something you can do with yourself for the next half hour, right?"
There was nothing Modo wanted more.
* * *
Throttle pulled up at the Garage. He was pretty sure he knew why he'd been recalled, and he was pretty sure that he knew who –and what- was waiting for him upstairs. It was not a pleasant thought.
A flash of gray fur caught his eye, and he turned to see Modo bent over a flyer with one of the many techs. "Bro, what're you doing down here?"
The taller Mouse refused to meet his eyes. "Charlie-ma'am kicked me out. I think you should get up there. Good luck."
With a growl, Throttle whirled and continued up the ladder to the threshold of Charlie's office.
"Why, Throttle. So good of you to stop by. Got a sec?" To the casual observer, Charlie's posture, her facial expression, was very calm. Almost relaxed. Throttle wasn't feeling very casual, and the tension in the room made his antennae stand straight.
"Why'd you kick Modo downstairs?" He placed his hands on the desk and leaned over until his face was nearly level with that of the human woman who continued to drive him crazy.
"Why'd you tell him and Vinnie to follow me around everywhere I go?" He could feel his ear twitch. "Come on, Throttle. Why do I suddenly find myself seeing furry body-guards every time I turn around?"
"We're just keepin' an eye on you. That's all. You're tough, Charlie-girl, I'll give ya that, but I don't want you to get hurt when an extra body could make the difference." When he'd decided that he and his bros would protect Charlie, he had used that exact same argument to justify the move. Somehow, it now sounded rather silly.
Charlie evidently agreed. "That's ridiculous. Now it's your turn to start telling some truths, Throttle. I want you to tell me why, and then I want you and your bros to lay off."
"Why, Charlie-girl? It's not like we're getting' in your way or anything." Her left eyebrow rose. As he stared at her, it rose even higher. "I mean, admit that you needed the help in that factory yesterday. If not for Vinnie, that Pl-"
She stood up, getting in his face. "Damn it, don't try to distract me, Throttle! Give me a reason, and give it to me now!"
"Because I don't know what else to do!" The level of Throttle's roar pushed Charlie back down into her chair. "Because every time I think of what happened to you, I want to rip something apart, and I don't know how to take care of you!" Throttle stopped yelling, and turned around to stare at the door. The room was silent. When he started talking again, he almost didn't recognize his own voice, it was so soft. "Shit, Charlie-girl, we should'a been there. We should'a saved you, but we were too busy off helpin' our own people clean up what we thought was a done deal when the Plutarkians were just movin' their operation here to Earth. And we just left you to deal with all of that."
"Throttle…" Behind him, Charlie was silent. He heard her shifting uncomfortably. "Throttle, it wasn't your fault."
"They grabbed you because you'd been helpin' us."
"Throttle, you were needed on Mars. They couldn't have pulled off those final few offensive maneuvers without the Biker Mice, and you know it." She stood and crossed around until she stood in front of him. When he shifted his stare to the ceiling, she reached up and grabbed his face, pulling it down until he met her eyes. "Even if you'd never crashed on Earth, I would still have gotten involved. Do you remember how we first met?"
He nodded. "Limburger wanted the Garage."
"That's right." Charlie's voice was gentle, almost the sweet sound he remembered from so many years ago. "And Bucket-Head wouldn't have taken no for an answer. Maybe I wouldn't have found myself fighting rotten-smelling aliens, but there's no way I would have sat back and let him ruin Chicago like he was planning. The thing is, you did crash here, and we did team up, and Limburger did hate me almost as much as he hated you. Call it destiny if you like, but you can't change what happened."
"The prison camp-"
The pain in Charlie's eyes left him wanting to sweep her up into the safety of his arms. To protect her from everything. "Being there, going through what I did, gave me the strength and determination to fight, and to lead fighters. It's made me who I am, and I don't think I'd change that if I had the choice."
"Charlie-girl…"
"I guess I can understand your thinking, Throttle. And I love having you guys back on Earth; it's the best thing that's happened to me in ages. Me, Charlie, and not me, the Commander. I missed you all. But putting all personal feelings aside, your playing bodyguard is making the Commander look weak, like I can't take care of myself. It's making little problems among the troops. So I need you to all back off a little and give me room. Okay?"
Throttle blew out a heavy breath and ran one hand through his tangled hair. "Makes sense. All right, Charlie-girl. No more body guards."
"Thanks, Throttle." Charlie rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Now get outta here and let me work without the distraction of those wiggling tails of yours. I hear they're serving gundel morsh over at the Warehouse," she said, referring to a Martian dish that had made an enormous hit among the Earth forces. "Why don't you boys run over and grab some before it's gone, and I'll join you as soon as I'm finished?"
"More paperwork?" He asked with a grin.
She groaned and nodded. "I swear, once this is all over, I'm resigning and building the biggest bonfire ever known to Man."
"Sure. I'll see you soon, Charlie-girl."
She sat back down at her desk and waved him off, and Throttle dropped through the trap door into the Garage. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his eyes were drawn to the two Mice leaning in the corner, waiting for him.
"We allowed to stop wastin' our time now, Throttle?" Vinnie was, as ever, blunt.
"Shuddup, Vinnie."
"AOOWWWW!" The smaller white Mouse leapt up to exchange high-fives with his gray buddy. "Ladies, here I come!"
"You okay, Throttle?" Modo, although just as exuberant at the freedom as Vinnie, peered through his one eye at their leader. "Charlie-girl didn't take too big a bite out of you?" Maybe he'd made himself scarce, and maybe the walls here were well reinforced, but he'd heard the faint sound of yelling from upstairs.
"Nah. We came to an understanding. She's meetin' us at the Warehouse in a while."
"Paperwork?" They all grinned at each other. The amount of reports, copies, and other stuff Charlie was expected to deal with had become something of a joke among the three. Just another example of how weird humans were.
"Excuse me." They turned and looked down at the young man who had originally showed them up to Charlie's office when they'd arrived on Earth. Mitch, Throttle's mind whispered.
"Somethin' ya need, Mitch?" he asked.
The kid flushed, apparently thrilled to be remembered, and glanced over his shoulder at the small group of Fighters lingering over in the entranceway. They all looked to be about his age: late teens, and just old enough to all have a mammoth case of hero-worship for their Commander. Mitch, Throttle remembered, had it bad.
Mitch swallowed and stammered out what his group had evidently kicked him over to ask. "We were all, uh, wondering… You knew the Commander before the war. Could you, maybe, um, tell us what she was like? I mean, it's not that big a deal or anything, and if you're busy… but it would be kinda cool…"
"No prob!" Vinnie clapped a hand over his shoulder, and Throttle silently amended his opinion of the young Fighter when his knees didn't buckle. "Did you ever hear about the Masked Motorcyclist?"
"The Masked what, sir?"
Modo laughed and climbed onto his Fat Boy. "Let's head over to the Warehouse, and we'll give you the down-and-dirty on what Charlie-girl was like before the leader bug bit her in the ass. Oh, have we got some stories for you!"
* * *