I owe everyone an enormous apology. This has been a very bad summer for me, and I simply wasn't able to do much writing. Hospital time combined with resulting writer's block has made things very difficult for me. However, here's the next chapter, and I promise that I'll try my absolute best to get the next chapter out sooner.
Chapter Ten
Charlie hummed tunelessly (not that she'd ever been able to hold a tune) as she pulled shirts and underwear from her bureau drawers. "This is crazy," she muttered to herself as she added a heavy over-sized flannel shirt to the growing pile. "I postpone life-improving surgery in favor of military maneuvers, but go haring off on a camping trip without a thought of my military responsibilities."
Okay, so that wasn't entirely true, she amended. The two days she had begged from Throttle had been spent waist-deep in international negotiations, intelligence gathering, strategy meetings, and planning ahead for any possible problems that might occur while she was gone. She hadn't slept in that entire time, and felt almost –but not quite- as though she'd earned the vacation. To be honest, it was a good thing that Baby Doll was a Martian AI bike; otherwise she'd be very worried about falling asleep while on the road.
Even so, Charlie still felt guilty enough to slide an extra communicator into her jacket pocket. Just in case.
She flipped open the bike saddlebags leaning against the bed and, placing her hands on her hips, surveyed her work. Was there anything she'd forgotten? Jeans, shorts, shirts, a few warm things in case the nights got chilly. Toiletries, a swimsuit for the lake Throttle claimed was nearby-
Oh, goodness, how had that slipped in?
Charlie snorted with laughter as she held up a filmy negligee in a deep blue. That certainly wouldn't be needed, she reminded herself firmly. She wasn't ready, she still needed time…
Repeating the thought to herself, making her mind believe it, Charlie began to stuff things into her bags. Throttle should be by any minute now, and she still needed to-
"Charlie-ma'am?" Modo's knock followed his voice through the door of her apartment, and he waited politely until she answered. "You all packed?" When Charlie nodded, he continued. "Throttle's down in the garage. I thought you'd like an extra hand with your bags." Without actually waiting for a reply, the large gray Mouse strode into the bedroom and picked up the two saddlebags as though they weighed nothing.
"Thanks, Modo." Before he could exit for the stairs, Charlie laid a hand on his arm. "Big Guy, how's Throttle been doing? He acts fine and dandy around me, but I know he's not totally happy. I worry about him."
Modo shrugged her bags higher up over his shoulder and sighed. "I dunno if it's really my business, Charlie-ma'am. Throttle wouldn't like me tellin' stories behind his back."
"Please, Modo?" Charlie placed her hands over his flesh wrist and squeezed gently. "I care about him. I want him to be happy. You don't have to let me in on his secrets or anything; I just need to know that he's doing alright."
The big Mouse glanced over his shoulder, as though ensuring that his leader and bro wasn't sneaking up behind him. "I won't lie to ya. He's frustrated as all hell. Throttle wants to make you happy, wants to give ya time and all that, but he's only a Mouse. He's no saint, ya know, ma'am?"
Charlie felt more guilt settle over her like an old blanket. "I know, Modo. It's just… I'm scared. I don't want to do anything that'll end up hurting him." She bit her bottom lip and looked up into Modo's one good eye.
"Seems ta me Throttle's a grown Mouse. He knows what he's getting' into. But Charlie," here he turned his hand over so that he held both of her hands in his large one, "it sounds more to me like you're tryin' to convince yourself of what you're sayin'. Am I hittin' near the truth here?"
Charlie looked away and took a breath. She didn't have an easy answer to that one.
"Look, Charlie-ma'am. I'm not the best guy to be givin' advice in the romance area, but I got one thing ta say to ya. Don't be like Carbine. Don't string him out for too long. It'll only hurt ya both. Okay?"
She squeezed his hand and realized that a small smile had found its way to her lips. "You're a good bro, Modo. Come on, let's not keep him waiting down there any longer." Both understood the tentative double meaning of Charlie's words.
* * *
Throttle tapped his fingers on the handlebars of his bike and tried not to think of the various reasons Charlie hadn't come down yet. She could have gotten cold feet. The Plutarkians had pulled a surprise attack. Maybe she was sick?
But no. His sensitive ears picked up the sound of her laughter from above, and it was followed soon after by the woman herself, swinging down through the trap door. His heart thrummed when he saw her. The battle-worn commander had been replaced, however momentarily, by something approximating the woman he had left behind six years ago. The black leather jeans and unitard top were replaced by blue jeans and a snug t-shirt. Charlie's hair was pulled back into a loose braid, which she was tucking into the back of her Fighter jacket. That item of apparel, apparently, would never be left behind.
The expression on Charlie's face was a study as she crossed to him, McCyber and a tall black woman at her side, a tiny dark-haired woman following behind. She was speaking quickly, hands gesturing, and the first two were nodding with each point, twin looks of amusement and exasperation on their faces.
"And don't forget, that Franc guy should be comming in this evening. Remember to give him those new estimates we came up with during lunch. And we just finished installing the new hardware in the flyers. Everyone needs to be updated on the improved capabilities. I don't want anyone taking off without that update. If they do-"
"We'll give 'em a spankin' and send 'em to bed without any dinner." The black woman laughed and ran a hand through her frizzy blue hair. "Don't worry, Sugah. Ah think we can handle things without ya a few days."
Charlie gave her an apologetic grin. "Sorry. I've never taken a vacation before. I just don't want anything to go wrong."
"And it won't. I promise. Now go have fun." With that, Jack gave her a shove toward Throttle and the bikes, and took her saddlebags from Modo to attach to Baby Doll.
Charlie laughed. "Ready to go, Throttle? I think we've got everything we need." She started to climb onto her bike, but Throttle wrapped his tail around her waist.
"There's just one more thing." Keeping an eye on her hands (making sure they didn't reach for the gun strapped into its holster at her thigh), he dug his hand into the side pocket of her jacket and came up with a communicator. "You're not gonna need this." With a grin, he tossed it to McCyber over Charlie's protests.
"But-!"
"But nothin'. Vacation, Charlie. That means you're not gonna think about work until we ride back into this garage next week." Throttle folded his arms and smirked at his auburn-tressed love. Although she tried to growl at him, the scowl that intimidated so many humans was wasted upon a Mouse who towered head and shoulders above her.
"Fine!" She threw up her hands and looked over at the small group around them. "I swear, if a single one of you laughs . . ."
The black woman threw back her head and laughed anyway. "Ah like your man, Charlie." She grinned over at Throttle and held out a strong hand. "Ah don't think we've been introduced. Name's Margaret, but everyone calls me Meg. Ah'm the hand-ta-hand specialist 'round here. And this," she reached behind her with her free hand and pulled forward the tiny woman who had followed them over, "is Mira. She's Charlie's head of intelligence."
"Intelligence?"
Charlie smiled over at Modo. "Mira is the queen of sneaks and spies. There's hardly been a single Plutark secret that Mira couldn't discover. She's the best I've ever seen." The woman blushed and ducked her head silently.
Throttle gripped Meg's hand and grinned over at Mira. "It's good to meet you. This is Vinnie and Modo." Beside him, Modo nodded a hello. However, where he expected to hear Vinnie's usual rambunctious greeting, there was only silence. He glanced over, and had to strangle a guffaw. His normally ebullient comrade was staring, mouth open and eyes wide, at the raven-haired intelligence officer.
Modo followed his gaze and jabbed Vinnie in the side, jarring the white Mouse out of his glazed state. "Uh, yeah. Nice ta meet you," he stammered. Throttle and Modo exchanged amused looks.
"Well, we might as well hit the road," Charlie interrupted. She revved Baby Doll's engine and cocked an eyebrow at Throttle.
Twenty minutes later, when they stopped at the side of the road for a gulp of water, she looked over to the golden-furred Mouse. "So what was that all about with Vinnie?"
"Oh. I think he's got a thing for your little spy queen."
Charlie laughed. "Mira? Good luck to him. Unless she's making a report, she usually doesn't say more then five words to anyone. And I think she's more celibate then I am. Vinnie's gonna have a hard time getting to first base with her."
"Well, it's about time. He's been mowin' a streak through the Fighter woman." Since the subject had come up, Throttle asked a question that had been simmering in the back of his head for days. "Speakin' of, I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised that there's been so little trouble between the humans and my own people. We sure wouldn't have gotten along so easily with everyone back when we first landed here."
Charlie sighed and patted wisps of red hair back against her head. "You've stayed around the Fighters, Throttle. We've fought beside the Mice and their allies, and you guys did a lot to help us out. The human Fighters have gotten a chance to see that your people aren't so different. Not everyone's quite so tolerant. I'm not quite sure how things will be after the fight's completely over."
Throttle scratched his head. "I guess that makes sense."
"Yeah. As to more, uh, intimate relationships, humans and Mice aren't so totally different in the bits and pieces department. We're not exactly the same, but near enough." Here, she ducked her head and looked carefully away from the Mouse she loved. "It's not possible for the two species to, um, procreate, but sex and all that works just, uh, fine. So I've heard, that is."
With that, the woman climbed back onto her bike and took off, leaving Throttle puzzling over what she had just said, and more importantly, what she had meant.
* * *
Charlie followed Throttle's bike down a rugged path through some woods. She still wasn't quite sure why she'd said what she had. She didn't want to lead him on, after all.
Throttle glanced over his shoulder at her. "Well, here we are." The path opened up into a really lovely clearing. The ground was covered in soft-looking grass, and the trees formed a protective circle around a good-sized area. He pointed over to one side. "The lake's that'a way. I guess we could go take a look after we get set up here." He climbed off of his bike and began to remove two rolled up tents and sleeping bags.
"Sounds great. There's a lot of soft brush around the clearing; it should make a pretty good base for under the sleeping bags. I'll gather some up while you start getting the tents up." She wasn't going to comment on the fact that he'd brought separate tents without consulting her first. That was a good thing, right?
Charlie gave an absent-minded pat to Baby Doll's crankcase before striding over to the edge of the clearing. She had a large armful of brush before she looked back over toward the bikes, and nearly burst out laughing.
Throttle had unpacked one of the tents, and all of the pieces were lying piecemeal on the ground. He held one support on his left hand and was staring at it in puzzlement. "Throttle, do you even know how to raise a tent?"
The Mouse blushed. "Uh, I guess not. I didn't figure on all these pieces, just bought the tents."
"I guess that makes sense. Why don't I give you a hand?" She wouldn't laugh. She wouldn't. Even if he did look really cute and baffled.
"Thanks."
Charlie had spent a lot of time camping with her father as a girl. Even after so many years, the trick of snapping things together came right back to her. Between the two of them, it didn't take long to construct a well-ordered campsite.
Throttle bent backward in a good stretch and tilted his head toward the lake. "You wanna get suits on and take a dunk in the lake? Still plenty of light out, and it's good and warm." An image rose in his mind, a memory of the little two-piece Charlie had worn the few times they had gone swimming when it had been just the four of them together. Lords, he hoped she'd brought it.
"Sounds good. Give me a sec to find my suit and change." Charlie grabbed her saddlebag and disappeared into her tent.
When she emerged, she wore an over-sized t-shirt and flip-flops and carried a towel. "Lead the way."
The short walk to the water was beautiful. Birds sang, and sunlight found its way through the leaves to create puddles of light on the path. Charlie took it all in and gave a contented sigh. "This is exactly what I needed, Throttle. I owe you one."
Her words startled Throttle out of the light trance he'd been in, staring at her slender white neck as she looked around. He fought to keep his mood easy and chuckled. "I'm keepin' score."
"Sure you have." Just then, she caught sight of the water through the trees and gasped. "God, Throttle. It's gorgeous! I can't believe this didn't get torn up." She peered back at the Mouse and smiled. I guess we're just lucky, huh?"
"Yeah."
Charlie draped her towel over a low branch and began to wiggle out of her t-shirt. Throttle, looking forward to the bikini he remembered, found himself momentarily floored when she revealed a navy-blue tank cut low over the hips and high against the neck. Against his will, his shoulders slumped.
Still talking, Charlie turned around just in time to catch sight of his face. "Throttle, what's wrong?"
"Huh? Oh, nuthin'." He forced a smile onto his disappointed lips.
But the human placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward. "Don't 'nuthin' me, Mister. I know that look. What is it?"
Throttle turned around so she couldn't see his face and mentally kicked himself. "It's stupid."
"So, spill."
"I was, uh . . ." Was there any way to say this and not look like a horny idiot? "Remember that little bikini you used to wear all the time?"
"Oh." Charlie remembered the suit very well indeed. Hell, she'd bought it specifically to wear in front of Throttle. But she'd thrown it away four years ago, when she'd seen the map of scars covering her torso. With a sigh, she reached out and caught Throttle's hand, pulling gently until he turned to face her. "Throttle, everything that was done to me, it left a pretty bad mess on the outside. It's not a very lovely sight. I guess, one of these days, if I ever get the money and we've got time for things like that, I could go to a plastic surgeon and get the scars prettied up a bit. But for now, I'm not really comfortable with people seeing them. Okay?" She looked into his eyes and saw the understanding, so she grinned. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd ever noticed that bikini anyway."
"You kiddin'? I couldn't keep my eyes off it." Throttle reached out and drew a finger softly down her cheek. "I always noticed."
"Ah, okay." And that was enough seriousness for now. "So, race you?"
* * *