Thank you to everyone for being so patient over the long hiatus, but I'm
back! Thanks especially to Morning; your wonderful encouragement and
beautiful illustrations mean a lot to me.
Chapter Nine
Red. It was such a beautiful color. Her favorite color, in fact. Especially that deep velvety shade that always caught your eye and cheered your mood with thoughts of love and romance.
The roar of flyers taking off from the roof broke into Charlie's thoughts and drew her eyes from the pretty vase filled with scarlet roses that reigned over her desk. Realizing that she had been daydreaming again, she smiled and returned her attention to the paperwork that monopolized every flat space in the room, and every free moment of her time.
Throttle had brought the flowers yesterday. Since the night they'd spent together two weeks before, he had taken to showing up every day or so with some new gift. Sometimes it was flowers like yesterday's roses, which he bought or found in some park; sometimes it was candy or baked goods for her notorious sweet tooth. A few times, when she was stuck working late, he'd even brought her something to eat, knowing how likely she was to forego dinner.
A part of Charlie sighed, dreamy-eyed, over Throttle's new treatment of her. It was so sweet and romantic, a courtship of the traditional kind that she had never received -much less wanted- as a girl. She knew that Throttle received all sorts of ribbing over the gifts, so the fact that he shrugged it off and continued to bring them melted her heart just a little bit.
Charlie loved Throttle. She had admitted that to herself as she had stared across her bedroom with tear-drenched eyes at the golden-furred Mouse who had forced open her soul and revealed his own. But, though she finally knew that the feelings were there, on both sides, a part of her was still terrified.
"Charlie-Ma'am?" Modo popped his head in the door. "Couple of the techs need you downstairs in the garage."
"What? Oh, thanks." She rose and reached for her jacket, when Modo's big, gentle gray hand dropped onto her shoulder.
"You doin' okay?"
She shrugged. "Yeah. I've just been stressed, lately." She pulled on the jacket and gave an absent-minded rub to the twin silver planets, the symbols of her rank, adorning each shoulder. "I've been in touch with other Fighter groups over in Europe. We think they've got the last of the Plutarkian hideouts over there. This could be it, Modo." She looked up and met his one eye. "Victory. Actual peace. The fish heads don't have a chance anymore. They're sending troops over from England and Italy next month, to help us roust out the remaining bases here in the States. After that, who knows?"
The look on the Mouse's face made Charlie catch her breath. "Was a time I didn't think that would ever happen, Charlie-Ma'am. I thought we'd done it, back home. When I heard they'd just moved on to Earth, well."
When he trailed off, Charlie laid her hand on his metal arm. "These plans are still classified, so I'd like you to keep a lid on the news until I make it official, okay? But we're going to beat them once and for all, Modo. You can go back to Mars and relax with your family for the rest of your life, even start your own family. And it couldn't have happened without you guys."
Modo grinned, and started to answer her, when a beep from her vid screen interrupted him.
Charlie sighed. "Unfortunately, all of this good news means I'm up past my bedtime planning. I'd better see who that is. Tell the techs I'll be down as soon as I'm finished."
The gray warrior nodded and ducked out through the door, and Charlie returned to her desk and pressed the "receive" button. The individual who appeared on the screen, however, was not one of the various leaders she'd been brainstorming with for the past week.
"Hello, Charlene. How are you doing?"
"Doctor! Just a sec, okay?" Charlie rose and closed the door before sitting back into her chair and smiling at the charcoal-gray Mouse on the screen. "I'm doing okay. It's good to see you, Doctor Graytail."
"I think we've been over this, Charlene. It's Spokes when you're not on my examination table."
Charlie shook her head and smiled. "Sorry, uh, Spokes. As nice as it is to chat, is there a reason for the call? I'm a little busy down here."
"I'm sure you are. I've heard about the plans for your big military push."
"Damn it, that's supposed to be classified. What ever happened to military secrets?" Charlie thumped her fist on the desk, sending papers flying.
Spokes looked down at Charlie through the glasses perched on her nose, in a way that always made her feel like a little girl trying to argue with a librarian. "There is going to be Martian aid, after all, Charlene. I think the head med-tech," here she pointed a thumb at herself, "has a right to know if and when her fighters are going to get bloodied up. But in any case, I do have a reason for calling you, and I think it's one that'll make you sit up and pay attention. I think we've figured it out, Charlene."
"You. what?" Charlie gripped the edges of her desk. If Doctor Spokes Graytail, head medical technician of the Martian wartime med base (transported to Earth when the fighting moved there), was saying what she suspected, it could very well mean the end of the surgery, the check-ups, the needles she'd suffered over the past four years.
"I've spent a lot of time with specialists of your own race. As you know, the problem with the replacements we gave you is that there's never been anyone, Mouse or human, who sustained the extent of damage to body as you did and managed to last long enough to get back to us. Saving your life wasn't easy."
"Tell me about it." Charlie rubbed her hands over her face. The memories of that escape, the weeks of agony as Martian doctors struggled to replace what the Plutarkian scientists had done with mere approximations of human organs, the failures and on-going surgery, weren't at all pleasant. "You don't have to remind me how close it was."
Spokes ran fingers through her shoulder-length black hair. "I know. In any case, I think we've finally come up with organs that will maintain themselves without any assistance, once they're in."
Tears pricked at Charlie's eyes. "You're serious?"
The Martian doctor nodded, pride and knowledge all but making her eyes glow. "It's going to mean more surgery, and the recuperation time won't be easy, but once they're in, you won't need the biannual injections or anything. I'm still going to keep a close eye on you for the first several months. But they'll work."
"Oh, god." Charlie sniffled. She knew the chances were slim, but she still had to ask. "Spokes, will they let me-"
Spokes knew her patient, and she had anticipated the question. She shook her head, her joy dimmed. "I'm sorry, Charlene. You still wouldn't be able to conceive and carry a child to term. The Plutarkians harvested all of the ova your body had produced up to that point, and the replacements can't make more. Our technology just isn't good enough yet."
Charlie sighed. "Don't worry, doc. It's enough for me that I'll have an almost-fully functioning body again."
"So all we have to do is schedule your trip and the surgery."
"I want to jump on a transport right now, but it's going to have to wait until after the maneuvers we're planning down here. Once that's over, we can pop open a magnum of Zenthian champagne to celebrate both my full recovery and the defeat of the Plutarkians. I'll get in touch, okay, Spokes?"
"Alright. Take care of yourself, child. That body you're running around in is some of my best work."
Charlie grinned. "I'll try not to damage it. Bye, doc."
The Mouse waved and cut the connection.
Alone, Charlie sighed again and allowed her shoulders to droop. As wonderful as the outcome would be, the prospect of more surgery made her want to groan. Still, avoiding the monthly check-ups and anti-rejection maintenance injections would be a joy in and of itself.
"Hey there, beautiful."
The warm voice from behind her brought the smile back to Charlie's face. She turned and reached for Throttle's hand. "Hey yourself. And don't call me that."
"Why not? You are." He looked behind her at the still-active vid screen. "Who were you talkin' to? Anything important?"
Should she tell him? Not now. It wasn't the right time. Charlie shook her head and turned her screen off. "Just bumping heads with various higher-ups. Any reason for your lovely visit?"
Throttle stuck his hands into his back pockets. The idea that he'd come up with had seemed so great when he'd bounced it off of his bros, but he suddenly wasn't so sure. "I, uh, hear the fish-faces been lyin' low, huh?"
Charlie angled her head and looked up at him. "They certainly seem to be, yes."
"So, there's not that much goin' on right now, yeah?"
"Not really. Something on your mind, Throttle?"
He found himself staring fixedly at a spot on the wall. "You don't have anythin' big planned for the next week or so, right?" Before she could answer, he blurted out hurriedly, "Because I figure if anythin' happens, the fighters can take care of it. They're good people, know what they're doin'."
Charlie stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "What exactly are you trying to say, Throttle? Because right now, you're making about as much sense as a baby."
Throttle took a deep breath. It was a nice idea, he reminded himself. If the timing wasn't right, they could wait. So why did he feel like a teen asking out his crush? "Vinnie found this spot, outside of the city a ways. It's a big forest that didn't get hit or stripped. Really nice. And I was thinkin' we could take a couple 'a days and go campin'. Just the two of us."
Charlie felt her jaw drop slightly as she stared at him. Surprisingly, the idea sounded absolutely wonderful. Even a few days away from the responsibilities of command. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed.
So why, again, was she so nervous of a relationship?
But back to the trip. As tempting as it was, the timing sucked. Things were currently under control, but those plans with the European bases.
Charlie sighed, and suddenly realized that it had been a few minutes since Throttle had spoken. Her silence apparently wasn't very encouraging; his ears and antennae were drooping, and his gaze had dropped.
"I guess you don't wanna. That's okay."
"No!" Charlie threw out a hand to stop him as he turned to leave. "That's not it at all, Throttle. There's just things I need to do." Well, military secrecy be damned. "Look, I just told Modo, but this isn't exactly public knowledge. We're planning a joint push with European aid to get the last Plutarkians here. I'm don't feel like I can take any time away right now." After all, if she'd just stalled the surgery that could leave her well once and for all, how could she justify going off. for a few days of much- needed fun. with the guy she loved.
What the hell.
She rubbed a hand over her hair, absently securing a few hairpins that had come loose. "I'd love to go. Give me two days to get things cemented here, and we'll go wherever you want, all right?"
Throttle's eyes widened, and a grin spread over his face. "You serious?"
"Don't I look serious?" She tucked her arm into his and started toward the door. Those poor technicians had been waiting for her long enough. "It sounds great, Throttle, really. How did you know I liked camping? I don't think it ever came up."
He shrugged, and his tail caressed her leg. "I just remembered seein' some stuff, like a tent and sleepin' bag around, figured you went for that stuff. I've never gone campin', but it sounds like fun."
Charlie spun around before the stepladder. "Really?" She thought for a minute. "Yeah, I guess not. Mars wasn't the safest place for camping." She reached up and patted his cheek. "Well, it's not exactly hard. I'll show you how to put up a tent and take you fishing if there's a nearby lake." She turned to climb down the ladder, hesitated, and then placed a soft kiss on his nose. "Thanks, Throttle."
* * *
Chapter Nine
Red. It was such a beautiful color. Her favorite color, in fact. Especially that deep velvety shade that always caught your eye and cheered your mood with thoughts of love and romance.
The roar of flyers taking off from the roof broke into Charlie's thoughts and drew her eyes from the pretty vase filled with scarlet roses that reigned over her desk. Realizing that she had been daydreaming again, she smiled and returned her attention to the paperwork that monopolized every flat space in the room, and every free moment of her time.
Throttle had brought the flowers yesterday. Since the night they'd spent together two weeks before, he had taken to showing up every day or so with some new gift. Sometimes it was flowers like yesterday's roses, which he bought or found in some park; sometimes it was candy or baked goods for her notorious sweet tooth. A few times, when she was stuck working late, he'd even brought her something to eat, knowing how likely she was to forego dinner.
A part of Charlie sighed, dreamy-eyed, over Throttle's new treatment of her. It was so sweet and romantic, a courtship of the traditional kind that she had never received -much less wanted- as a girl. She knew that Throttle received all sorts of ribbing over the gifts, so the fact that he shrugged it off and continued to bring them melted her heart just a little bit.
Charlie loved Throttle. She had admitted that to herself as she had stared across her bedroom with tear-drenched eyes at the golden-furred Mouse who had forced open her soul and revealed his own. But, though she finally knew that the feelings were there, on both sides, a part of her was still terrified.
"Charlie-Ma'am?" Modo popped his head in the door. "Couple of the techs need you downstairs in the garage."
"What? Oh, thanks." She rose and reached for her jacket, when Modo's big, gentle gray hand dropped onto her shoulder.
"You doin' okay?"
She shrugged. "Yeah. I've just been stressed, lately." She pulled on the jacket and gave an absent-minded rub to the twin silver planets, the symbols of her rank, adorning each shoulder. "I've been in touch with other Fighter groups over in Europe. We think they've got the last of the Plutarkian hideouts over there. This could be it, Modo." She looked up and met his one eye. "Victory. Actual peace. The fish heads don't have a chance anymore. They're sending troops over from England and Italy next month, to help us roust out the remaining bases here in the States. After that, who knows?"
The look on the Mouse's face made Charlie catch her breath. "Was a time I didn't think that would ever happen, Charlie-Ma'am. I thought we'd done it, back home. When I heard they'd just moved on to Earth, well."
When he trailed off, Charlie laid her hand on his metal arm. "These plans are still classified, so I'd like you to keep a lid on the news until I make it official, okay? But we're going to beat them once and for all, Modo. You can go back to Mars and relax with your family for the rest of your life, even start your own family. And it couldn't have happened without you guys."
Modo grinned, and started to answer her, when a beep from her vid screen interrupted him.
Charlie sighed. "Unfortunately, all of this good news means I'm up past my bedtime planning. I'd better see who that is. Tell the techs I'll be down as soon as I'm finished."
The gray warrior nodded and ducked out through the door, and Charlie returned to her desk and pressed the "receive" button. The individual who appeared on the screen, however, was not one of the various leaders she'd been brainstorming with for the past week.
"Hello, Charlene. How are you doing?"
"Doctor! Just a sec, okay?" Charlie rose and closed the door before sitting back into her chair and smiling at the charcoal-gray Mouse on the screen. "I'm doing okay. It's good to see you, Doctor Graytail."
"I think we've been over this, Charlene. It's Spokes when you're not on my examination table."
Charlie shook her head and smiled. "Sorry, uh, Spokes. As nice as it is to chat, is there a reason for the call? I'm a little busy down here."
"I'm sure you are. I've heard about the plans for your big military push."
"Damn it, that's supposed to be classified. What ever happened to military secrets?" Charlie thumped her fist on the desk, sending papers flying.
Spokes looked down at Charlie through the glasses perched on her nose, in a way that always made her feel like a little girl trying to argue with a librarian. "There is going to be Martian aid, after all, Charlene. I think the head med-tech," here she pointed a thumb at herself, "has a right to know if and when her fighters are going to get bloodied up. But in any case, I do have a reason for calling you, and I think it's one that'll make you sit up and pay attention. I think we've figured it out, Charlene."
"You. what?" Charlie gripped the edges of her desk. If Doctor Spokes Graytail, head medical technician of the Martian wartime med base (transported to Earth when the fighting moved there), was saying what she suspected, it could very well mean the end of the surgery, the check-ups, the needles she'd suffered over the past four years.
"I've spent a lot of time with specialists of your own race. As you know, the problem with the replacements we gave you is that there's never been anyone, Mouse or human, who sustained the extent of damage to body as you did and managed to last long enough to get back to us. Saving your life wasn't easy."
"Tell me about it." Charlie rubbed her hands over her face. The memories of that escape, the weeks of agony as Martian doctors struggled to replace what the Plutarkian scientists had done with mere approximations of human organs, the failures and on-going surgery, weren't at all pleasant. "You don't have to remind me how close it was."
Spokes ran fingers through her shoulder-length black hair. "I know. In any case, I think we've finally come up with organs that will maintain themselves without any assistance, once they're in."
Tears pricked at Charlie's eyes. "You're serious?"
The Martian doctor nodded, pride and knowledge all but making her eyes glow. "It's going to mean more surgery, and the recuperation time won't be easy, but once they're in, you won't need the biannual injections or anything. I'm still going to keep a close eye on you for the first several months. But they'll work."
"Oh, god." Charlie sniffled. She knew the chances were slim, but she still had to ask. "Spokes, will they let me-"
Spokes knew her patient, and she had anticipated the question. She shook her head, her joy dimmed. "I'm sorry, Charlene. You still wouldn't be able to conceive and carry a child to term. The Plutarkians harvested all of the ova your body had produced up to that point, and the replacements can't make more. Our technology just isn't good enough yet."
Charlie sighed. "Don't worry, doc. It's enough for me that I'll have an almost-fully functioning body again."
"So all we have to do is schedule your trip and the surgery."
"I want to jump on a transport right now, but it's going to have to wait until after the maneuvers we're planning down here. Once that's over, we can pop open a magnum of Zenthian champagne to celebrate both my full recovery and the defeat of the Plutarkians. I'll get in touch, okay, Spokes?"
"Alright. Take care of yourself, child. That body you're running around in is some of my best work."
Charlie grinned. "I'll try not to damage it. Bye, doc."
The Mouse waved and cut the connection.
Alone, Charlie sighed again and allowed her shoulders to droop. As wonderful as the outcome would be, the prospect of more surgery made her want to groan. Still, avoiding the monthly check-ups and anti-rejection maintenance injections would be a joy in and of itself.
"Hey there, beautiful."
The warm voice from behind her brought the smile back to Charlie's face. She turned and reached for Throttle's hand. "Hey yourself. And don't call me that."
"Why not? You are." He looked behind her at the still-active vid screen. "Who were you talkin' to? Anything important?"
Should she tell him? Not now. It wasn't the right time. Charlie shook her head and turned her screen off. "Just bumping heads with various higher-ups. Any reason for your lovely visit?"
Throttle stuck his hands into his back pockets. The idea that he'd come up with had seemed so great when he'd bounced it off of his bros, but he suddenly wasn't so sure. "I, uh, hear the fish-faces been lyin' low, huh?"
Charlie angled her head and looked up at him. "They certainly seem to be, yes."
"So, there's not that much goin' on right now, yeah?"
"Not really. Something on your mind, Throttle?"
He found himself staring fixedly at a spot on the wall. "You don't have anythin' big planned for the next week or so, right?" Before she could answer, he blurted out hurriedly, "Because I figure if anythin' happens, the fighters can take care of it. They're good people, know what they're doin'."
Charlie stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "What exactly are you trying to say, Throttle? Because right now, you're making about as much sense as a baby."
Throttle took a deep breath. It was a nice idea, he reminded himself. If the timing wasn't right, they could wait. So why did he feel like a teen asking out his crush? "Vinnie found this spot, outside of the city a ways. It's a big forest that didn't get hit or stripped. Really nice. And I was thinkin' we could take a couple 'a days and go campin'. Just the two of us."
Charlie felt her jaw drop slightly as she stared at him. Surprisingly, the idea sounded absolutely wonderful. Even a few days away from the responsibilities of command. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed.
So why, again, was she so nervous of a relationship?
But back to the trip. As tempting as it was, the timing sucked. Things were currently under control, but those plans with the European bases.
Charlie sighed, and suddenly realized that it had been a few minutes since Throttle had spoken. Her silence apparently wasn't very encouraging; his ears and antennae were drooping, and his gaze had dropped.
"I guess you don't wanna. That's okay."
"No!" Charlie threw out a hand to stop him as he turned to leave. "That's not it at all, Throttle. There's just things I need to do." Well, military secrecy be damned. "Look, I just told Modo, but this isn't exactly public knowledge. We're planning a joint push with European aid to get the last Plutarkians here. I'm don't feel like I can take any time away right now." After all, if she'd just stalled the surgery that could leave her well once and for all, how could she justify going off. for a few days of much- needed fun. with the guy she loved.
What the hell.
She rubbed a hand over her hair, absently securing a few hairpins that had come loose. "I'd love to go. Give me two days to get things cemented here, and we'll go wherever you want, all right?"
Throttle's eyes widened, and a grin spread over his face. "You serious?"
"Don't I look serious?" She tucked her arm into his and started toward the door. Those poor technicians had been waiting for her long enough. "It sounds great, Throttle, really. How did you know I liked camping? I don't think it ever came up."
He shrugged, and his tail caressed her leg. "I just remembered seein' some stuff, like a tent and sleepin' bag around, figured you went for that stuff. I've never gone campin', but it sounds like fun."
Charlie spun around before the stepladder. "Really?" She thought for a minute. "Yeah, I guess not. Mars wasn't the safest place for camping." She reached up and patted his cheek. "Well, it's not exactly hard. I'll show you how to put up a tent and take you fishing if there's a nearby lake." She turned to climb down the ladder, hesitated, and then placed a soft kiss on his nose. "Thanks, Throttle."
* * *