"GET THEM HELMETS OFF EFFIN YOU AIN'T PLANNING TO ROB ME PLACE" a male voice boomed from the diner kitchen. "OTHERWISE, I GOT SEVERAL LASER CANONS WAITING TO MEET YA!"
"He's bossy tonight" commented Throttle wryly as the tan Martian removed his helmet.
Modo merely grunted and Vinnie was too busy scanning the interior of the diner for his beloved steed to reply.
"Sweetheart?" he called out hopefully.
An answering roar could be heard from the vicinity of the kitchen and Vinnie eagerly bolted over the serving counter toward the kitchen entrance.
"Now young missy, what have I told you about using your indoor voice!" Chef Andy could be heard scolding someone from the kitchen.
Vinnie pushed the door open and stopped in disbelief when he saw a ladle-wielding Chef Andy hovering over his red mistress.
"Ah Chef, who are you talking to?" Vinnie asked anxiously, fearing the cook had flipped his lid.
Chef Andy turned to the white mouse and his brow crinkled. "Who do you think I'm talking too, scout! Your little lady of course!" he replied, putting the ladle down and stroking Sweetheart's seat.
Sweetheart leant contentedly against the aged chef for a moment, before rolling forward to greet her beloved master. Her engine purred happily as she rubbed herself cat-like against the Martian.
"She's been such a good girl. She can stay over anytime she wants to!" Chef Andy said, smiling indulgently at the red cycle.
Sweetheart beeped enthusiastically in agreement, turning a tight circle to rub herself against Chef Andy once more. She had clearly been well looked after, her gleaming exterior showed the care and attention she had received from a fresh wash and wax.
Chef Andy guided Vinnie and Sweetheart back into the dining area, shaking hands with the other members of the biker mice team.
"Been busy, Chef?" Modo asked politely, glad to see the last member of the team so well cared for.
"Couple of young thugs tried to rob my diner the day after Vinnie dropped her off. They thought an old man would be an easy target. Well, Sweetheart soon showed them the error of their ways. I tell you, this gal is better than a whole SWAT team!" Chef Andy replied, smiling adoringly at the sentient cycle. He made cooing noises at her as if he was amusing a human infant and Sweetheart beeped a chorus of bell-like noises that could almost be mistaken for delighted laughter.
The three mice made gagging faces behind the Chef's back, causing Sweetheart to beep indignantly at them. She moved to the Chef's side and proceeded to scold the three mice in AI-cycle language. The words weren't understandable, but the tone was. The three mice looked suitably chastened by the time she was finished.
"Chef, are you up to cooking some take-away for six?" Vinnie asked.
"Sure lad. Who's visiting?"
"Carbine and Stoker are down for a few weeks."
"Is that right now? I'd like to see the girls myself, and that old rogue too of course." Chef said. "I have a better idea than take-away. Get Charlie on the blower and tell them to meet you at the diner. I'll cook up a feast to remember! On the house of course."
High fives and shouts from all the mice greeted this announcement, followed by a brief discussion over who would let Charlie and the other mice know.
"I'll call Charlie" Throttle announced, walking out to his bike to rouse Charlie.
In the end it was Carbine who answered.
"Where's Charlie-girl, luv?" Throttle asked.
"Still in the shower Fuzzy-buns" Carbine replied.
"Carbine! How many times have I asked you not to call me that!" Throttle protested, blushing red from his girlfriend's personal nickname for him.
Carbine sighed. "Sorry Throttle! Now, can I help or do you need Charlie specifically?"
"Chef Andy has invited us to eat at the diner. He wants to catch up with all of you. Can you tell Charlie please."
"Hang on" Carbine said as she left the communicator and approached the bathroom of the Last Chance Garage.
"Charlie!" she yelled through the door.
"What!"
"Dinner, Andy's, interested?"
"Sandy? Who's Sandy?"
"The Chef!"
"I don't have a shed! Is this Sandy character asking about one?"
Carbine slapped her forehead in frustration and shook her head. "Never mind!" she hollered as she stalked away from the bathroom door.
"I'm not blind!" Charlie yelled back indignantly. "I just can't hear very well through the door!"
"That's an understatement" Carbine said to herself with a grin as she returned to the communicator. "We'll be there in an hour" she told a still waiting Throttle.
"Great. See you soon luv."
"Sure thing…Fuzzybuns!" Carbine's voice replied teasingly.
Before Throttle could reprimand her the line went dead and he was left fuming.
"That woman!" he muttered to himself.
"Is intelligent and beautiful. Wish I had a fine woman like that. I'd let her call me anything she liked, as long as she stuck around to call me it" Chef Andy said from behind him.
Throttle turned to the elderly man and raised his brows in disbelief.
The cook walked forward a few steps and put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "So she gave you a pet name kid, it ain't the worst thing a woman can do. You boys got to stop letting your macho side interfere so much with your softer side."
Throttle grinned ruefully and squeezed the older man's hand in understanding.
"They'll be here in an hour" he said.
"Good. Gives me just enough time to cook that feast I promised you."
"We'll help" Throttle volunteered as they returned inside, letting Sweetheart outside to join her companions.
Vinnie, who was sitting in a booth with his feet on the table, protested at this news. Modo, who was sitting opposite him, stood up and knocked his younger bro's feet off the table. He grabbed Vinnie by the bandoleer straps and hauled him out of the booth and into the kitchen.
"Lazy 'un aint he!" Chef Andy said disapprovingly as he put a 'Closed' sign up on the diner door.
"He just lacks motivation" Modo rumbled, tossing a bag of carrots at Vinnie.
"What's my inspiration supposed to be tonight, Director Modo?" Vinnie asked sarcastically, reaching sullenly for a peeler.
"Help, or starve!" Throttle supplied, putting some potatoes in a pot to boil.
Vinnie set to peeling with a will.
By the time two additional motorcycles bearing the remaining mice and Charlie joined the three in the car park, the meal was ready to serve. Chef Andy left the boys to put together the final touches while he went to greet his guests. He kissed the girls and welcomed Stoker into the diner, ushering them to several tables placed in a row, complete with candles and cutlery.
The women each had a bottle of wine and Stoker held a couple of six-packs of beer in each hand, looking quite pleased with himself.
"Do you really think you should be drinking? After all, our show is rated for children!" Chef Andy said worriedly.
"Yeah, but this is a fanfic…and there ain't no children's rating!" Stoker crowed, taking the tops off two beers with his teeth and handing one to the astonished chef.
Stoker pulled out two chairs simultaneously for Carbine and Charlie and sat down between the women. Chef Andy moved over to the juke-box and selected several tunes from the seventies, taking a deep swig of his beer. As the music began to play, he quickly moved to the kitchen door and held it open for the biker mice bearing platters of goodies. A chorus of whistles and foot stamping greeted the arrival of the feast as the platters were placed in the middle of the table.
Relieved of his burdens, Throttle moved round the table and kissed Carbine briefly on the lips, before seating himself next to her, while Vinnie encouraged Modo to sit next to Charlie. Modo was surprised by his friend's behaviour but obligingly seated himself next to the mechanic. Vinnie graciously offered Chef Andy the chair opposite Charlie and took the seat at the head of the table.
She won't be able to kick me from here! he thought happily to himself and smiled proudly at his deft manoeuvring.
Corks were popped, beers were passed round, plates were filled and eating commenced, accompanied by light chit chat and laughter. Vinnie waited for his turn to come and took a large serve from each of the platters of meat loaf, lasagne, mashed potato, steamed vegies and various side salads. He had worked up quite an appetite and dug in with the legendary Van Wham gusto. He only paused long enough to swallow mouthfuls of beer and to grunt noncommittal to any comments passed his way.
A couple of hours later and the party was still in full swing, empty dishes and overstretched bellies testifying to its success.
"Time to clean up" Chef Andy announced, struggling to get upright.
"You boys relax, we'll take of them" Charlie volunteered. "Come on sexy!" she said to Carbine, who was contentedly leaning back against Throttle's arm, slung over the back of her chair.
Carbine groaned at the expanse of her belly but managed to haul herself out of the chair.
"Thanks ladies" Stoker said as they stood up.
The two girls looked at each other and frowned. Grabbing one arm each, they pulled Stoker out of his chair.
"Anyone who hasn't cooked can help clean up. That means you too" Carbine said, handing him a stack of plates.
"No comments about a woman's place being in the kitchen Van Wham, or you'll be joining our new busboy!" Charlie said warningly to Vinnie.
Vinnie, who was industriously working through the remainder of the lasagne, paused with the fork near his mouth.
"Doll-face, I do open my mouth to do things other than talk you know!" he protested, winking broadly as he shoved the last piece of lasagne into his mouth. He chewed enthusiastically to emphasise his point.
Charlie rolled her eyes and went back to clearing the table with Stoker and Carbine. The three self-assigned kitchen hands emptied the clean dishes out of the dish washer, drying off the excess water. Stoker started loading the dirty dishes inside when two identical stings hit him on his buttocks. He reared up in surprise and gawked at the grinning females with rolled tea-towels in their hands.
"That's a fine piece of work you've got there!" Charlie said teasingly.
"Yeah Stokes, who would have thought you were hiding it all these years!" Carbine agreed.
Stoker grabbed his own tea-towel to counter-attack but the women ran out of the kitchen laughing. He chased them into the dining area, round the tables to excited questioning from the other men and back into the kitchen again, managing to corner Charlie in his arms and grabbing Carbine with his tail.
"You naughty girls!" he said delightedly and flicked them soundly on their behinds with his own tea-towel.
He released them quickly and bolted back into the dining area, flipped over the table and landed squarely in his seat. He picked up his beer as the two women burst through the door with revenge written all over their faces.
"Ok, that's enough. Playtime's over ladies" he said, saluting them with his beer.
"Spoilsport!" Carbine said as she returned to her seat and refilled her glass with wine.
"Careful babe!" Throttle protested, watching her down the whole glass in one swallow.
"Relax bro, the girls can drive home tonight!" Vinnie said reassuringly, opening his third beer for the night.
"There's no way I'm driving!" Charlie said, refilling her own glass.
"I meant Sweetheart" Vinnie said matter-of-factly.
"Oh…well…drink up people!" Charlie said enthusiastically, handing a beer to Throttle. He took it reluctantly, sipping it slowly but grew bolder with several encouraging nudges from Carbine.
The jukebox finished playing its latest song and went silent. Charlie, the only one still standing, walked over and started perusing the list. Vinnie stood up and came over to join her.
"That one" he said, pointing to Metallicrank.
Charlie screwed up her face in protest. "Not tonight, I want something to dance too" she said, entering a few jazzy numbers guaranteed to get everyone up and moving.
Vinnie entered a random choice into the machine before she could put any more in and smiled cheekily at his wife.
"What did you choose?" she asked, curiously scanning the music menu.
"Dunno" he replied. He didn't really care about the selection, he was just peeved he couldn't get his own way with the music and wanted to annoy Charlie.
Charlie's selections came on and soon the mice and humans were dancing in the middle of the floor. Beer and wine sloshed from glasses held aloft, splashing onto the floor and making it slippery enough for several members of the party to tumble into each other. Vinnie tried to teach Chef Andy to break-dance, but Throttle put a stop to it before the elderly human ended up slipping a disc.
After five songs, Charlie's selection ended and Vinnie's random choice started. It turned out to be a slow, smoochy number that had Modo, Stoker and Chef Andy returning to their chairs to catch their collective breath and refresh themselves with soft drink and water. It was generally agreed that the remainder of the alcohol would retire for the night.
As Vinnie attempted to return to his seat, Charlie grabbed him by the arm and swung him back round to face her.
"Oh no you don't, you chose it, you can dance to it!" Charlie said, slipping her arms round his neck.
Vinnie made a face at the song but complied with his wife's desire to slow dance, slipping his arms round her waist and pulling her closer till they were hip to hip.
Throttle, seeing how it was done, slipped his arms round Carbine and began copying Vinnie's movements.
"That's it Fuzzybuns!" Chef Andy called encouragingly from the table.
Carbine buried her head in Throttle's chest, biting on her lip as she tried to control her hysterics. Throttle buried his face in her hair, his chest shaking from suppressed laughter.
"Carbine should be ashamed of herself!" Vinnie declared to Charlie in a fierce whisper.
"Why?" Charlie asked, puzzled by his vehemence.
"Throttle is a freedom fighter hero, a legendary warrior. His record demands the upmost respect! Fuzzybuns just doesn't fit that image, Charlie-girl. I mean have you ever heard of Fuzzybuns the Invincible? Fuzzybuns the Fearless?"
"Yeesh Vinnie, lighten up. First of all, they're in love ok. People in love do that sort of thing."
"You won't find me doing that when I'm in love!" Vinnie declared emphatically.
Charlie stopped dancing and tensed. "Then why did you marry me if you're not in love with me! We might have been intoxicated, but you could have said no if you really wanted to!" she gritted out between clenched teeth.
Vinnie's eyes started searching frantically round the room for a shovel. He was in desperate need of a hole right now and none seemed forthcoming.
"Sweetheart, I didn't mean it like that!" he said, taking her face between his hands.
"Then how did you mean it Van Wham! From where I'm standing, it sounded like you only married me so you could get into my pants!" Charlie fumed.
"Charlie-girl….I….uh….I'm sorry?" Vinnie stammered, dropping his hands from her face.
"Not good enough this time Vinnie!" she spat, before turning on her heel and storming into the kitchen.
Vinnie moved to follow but a hand restrained him. He turned to face Carbine, a sympathetic look on her face.
"I'll talk to her. This is going to need a woman's touch, if you don't want your eyes scratched out" Carbine said, leaving Throttle to guide the miserable mouse back to the table.
Throttle pressed a bottle of root-beer into the younger Martian's hand and urged him to take a swig.
"Don't worry bro. If anyone can bring Charlie-girl round, it's Carbine" the tan leader said, trying to reassure his younger bro.
Vinnie nodded glumly and sat quietly, nursing his root-beer, lost in his own thoughts. The other mice and Chef Andy talked quietly amongst themselves, glancing occasionally at Vinnie, occasionally at the female voices coming from the kitchen. Once in a while Charlie's low pitch would become a shout and they would see Vinnie visibly cringe.
After what seemed like forever, well to Vinnie anyway, to the rest of the mice it was more like ten minutes; the door opened and Carbine emerged, looking smug. She held the door open and Charlie came out, still simmering but a lot less so than before.
Vinnie sat up in his chair and looked at her intently, trying to gauge her temperament.
Ignoring him, Charlie walked over to Chef Andy and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for dinner. The chef stood up hastily and gave her a hug goodbye, surprised by her hasty departure. She hugged Modo, who was next along the table and then Stoker, who protested her early retirement.
"I'm tired Stokes, I'll see you tomorrow" she said, ruffling his head fur.
Carbine spoke quickly with Throttle, reassuring him that everything would be ok. She kissed him goodbye, lingering longer than she normally did in front of other people.
"Night Sweet-cheeks!" he said, slapping her on the rear.
Grinning, she tried to cuff him but his freedom fighter instincts kicked in and he ducked her mock-punch before it could land on its intended destination.
"Ready?" Carbine asked Charlie.
"In a sec" Charlie replied, as she moved finally to Vinnie. "Carbine convinced me to give you one more chance. If you want it, you'll be at the garage at midnight, and no later. Or else this friendship, and this marriage is over…if you let me down, I will never speak to you again!" she whispered into his ear, her tone leaving no doubt as to the seriousness of the message.
Wisely, Vinnie didn't try to defend himself, only nodded slightly to show he understood. Charlie relented a little and brushed his cheek with her lips but it was more perfunctory than anything else.
Carbine walked outside with her friend and climbed onto her motorbike. Charlie swung her leg over the back and settled onto the seat.
"You ok?" Carbine asked quietly.
"I'll be fine. I just need some space from the black hole in that man's head" Charlie replied.
Carbine chuckled. "He is pretty clueless sometimes, but I know he does care for you Charlie. Martian males are so used to being the hero, always having to be macho, that it takes a long time for them to learn to open up and just be themselves. Fortunately for Vinnie, he picked just the right woman to help him."
Charlie was touched by her friend's confidence in her and hugged her from behind.
"Throttle's one lucky guy, Carbine!"
Carbine winked at her and gunned the engine. "I know, but sometimes we have to remind them of it!"
The freedom fighter motorbike popped a wheelie in the car park and shot off toward the Last Chance Garage, leaving a herd of males, both human and otherwise, to finish cleaning up.