"Got a fantasy, Modo?"

"Got a fantasy, Modo?"

He would hear those words in his dreams for a long, long time.

They had been out celebrating their latest Tower-crashing victory over Limburger. The owner of the bar they'd saved had been so grateful; he'd thrown a party in their honor. The mice had partied long into the night, especially after their first taste of whisky.

Charley had tried to stop the bartender from serving them, fearing the worst, but they had been remarkably well-behaved. They only started two bar fights and broke six windows. But the building was still standing, and most everyone was still in one piece, so the girl considered that to be a huge improvement over their usual ways.

After the first fight, Charley had started drinking to ease the headache that had started. Vinnie had gone off with a couple of waitresses that had been eyeing him all night. They didn't seem to mind that he was a Martian Mouse at all. Throttle had gone to the bar's upstairs room to sleep off all the alcohol he'd had, (and to escape the other waitress to stay faithful to Carbine).

Modo had stayed with Charlene. After the many leers and whistles she'd gotten just from walking in the bar, he had sat by her and fended off any drunken suitors that had wandered by. That had actually been the reason for the second bar fight. He'd come back from that fracas and put his arm around her shoulders to warn off any others. Charley had blushed slightly at his actions, and Modo started to pull his arm away. She had put a warm hand on his wrist. "You don't have to go. Stay and drink with me a while?"

He smiled at her. "The company of a beautiful lady. Vinnie don't know what he's missin'." He suddenly frowned. "You want me to beat him up for runnin' off?"

"Nah," she said a shake of her head. "If he wants to go drown in some other girl, I don't have any say in it. Besides, its nice here with you." She nuzzled against his shoulder. "At least you don't wish I was someone else."

Modo startled a bit. "He said that to you?"

"No, but I can tell," she said softly. "He looks at me and I'm not the girl he's seeing. She must have been something really great."

Harley, Modo thought to himself, she means Harley. "I don't know about that, she wasn't my type. But I think she would have been good for him."

Charley nodded. "Yeah, I'll bet so. So, you want to come with me back to the garage?"

"I'll escort you back," he said, standing off the barstool. His steps were a bit unsteady with the massive amount of whisky he'd put back. Not enough to get fully plastered, (a mouse his size would need several more gallons for that), but a very happy buzz was making everything nice and fuzzed in his brain.

"No, Modo." She took his large hand in both her smaller ones and looked into his eye. "Come back with me?"

He knew from her tone what she meant. He was getting ready to tell her no, that they'd regret it in the morning. He'd found her attractive, any male would, but he'd backed off once Vinnie had made a pass on her. You didn't go after a girl your bro was chasing. It wouldn't be right.

But then she'd pressed closer to him, pulling his hand to her hip and reached down to stroke against his groin. Every argument he'd found suddenly left his mind. Both hands grabbed her hips and pulled her closer, his tail winding around her leg and sliding up inch by inch. "You sure about this?"

She smiled, warm and inviting. "I'm sure. You ready for a new kind of ride?"

He shivered at the promise in her voice, tension beginning to coil in his body. "Are you?"

She pulled him to the doors as her answer. He didn't need any more encouragement and scooped her up in his arms, his longer stride taking him to his bike faster. "You," he said in a slightly breathless voice as he walked, "are a wicked little temptation, and I've been trying to be good. But there's only so far you can push a mouse's honor."

"Modo," she murmured, kissing the edge of his ear and biting gently. She smiled at the pleasured gasp that evoked. "Believe me, I don't want you to be good right now. And there's no dishonor in giving a lady what she wants, is there?"

He growled in response. She sat behind him as they rode off, and he found out just how wicked she could be. The girl reached around his waist and stroked the hard muscles of his sides and stomach. Her fingers traced and circled his navel, sliding lower to the waistband of his jeans. When she started to unbutton them, he'd gasped in shock. "Never had a bike job?" she asked.

"Bike job?"

"Sit up so I can get this zipper," she said.

"On the road? In the open?" The grey mouse asked incredulously, even as he did what she said. The zipper slid down, her cool hands slipping inside his boxers. His tail clenched around her waist, his hands locked on the handlebars as he tried to focus on the road.

Charley ran her palms over his hips, moving down to his thick sheath. The skin was like suede, a new texture to her, and his shaft emerged. She pulled it through the space in his boxers, the night air cold enough against the sensitive skin to make him gasp. Her hands began to stroke over his length, making the mouse moan loudly in his helmet. Her thumb stroked the ridge, finding a drop of pre-cum and spreading it along the head. Modo sucked in a harsh breath, grateful that Lil' Hoss knew the way to the garage and could steer on her own. Right now, he might just have crashed them both.

Her hands began to move in a rhythm, pumping in firm strokes. Her hips rocked against him in the same beat to give her better leverage. Modo grit his teeth hard against the shouts that threatened to tear out of him, clenched his muscles against the urge to arc into her touch. He had to get them to the garage or he would explode. The mouse pushed his bike to its limits, pouring on the speed.

Charley smiled to herself as Lil' Hoss's engine roared. He seemed eager to get home. She increased her pace, making Modo groan at the pleasure she gave. His hips began to thrust into her hand, his back arching. His tail was almost squeezing the life out of her. Her hands tightened their grip around him, going faster and faster. His hands twisted on the throttle, revving the bike in time to her motions. Moans and forms of her name was all he could say as she worked him. Finally it was too much for him to hold back anymore, and he roared out his pleasure as he came on her hands.

Charley smiled in satisfaction as his tail began to loosen. "Feel better?"

"Didn't know I was tense," he managed to say. Lil' Hoss was the only one steering now; he was far too wiped out just then. "A bike job, huh?"

"That's one version of it. The other kind involves a sidecar." He frowned a second in confusion before the mental image cleared enough for him to get it. "Whoa, Momma."

They pulled into the garage at last. He helped her off the bike and (staggeringly) made it to his feet. She looked at him in some concern as he fixed his jeans. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah," he murmured. "Just---whoa. I haven't had one of those in years."

Charley raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. "Years?"

He blushed. "I was raised that masterbat--er,---touching yourself wasn't.....right."

Her jaw dropped. "Wow. You must have been really hurting."

"On occasion," he admitted, still bright red. "Lots of cold showers."

"No wonder you called the other two 'wussies' whenever the water heater went out at the board," she smiled. "You were used to it cold. Well, now you don't have to be used to it anymore. If you're aching for something warm," she wrapped her arms around his waist, "all you have to do is ask."

"Oh, Charlene," he groaned as she pressed her body against his. His tail wrapped around her waist and lifted her up as he bent his head down to kiss her. Her soft lips eagerly parted to let his tongue enter, caressing the delicate flesh of her mouth. He began to slowly thrust his tongue, in mimicry of what his lower body was stirring to do.

Her eyes widened as she felt him rise. "Modo?"

He smiled. "I figured you'd know. It doesn't take Martians long to re-arm."