Biker Mice From Mars: One More Light

One More Light

This story is dedicated to Chester Charles Bennington.
1976 - 2017
My hero, always and forever.

Disclaimers
1. I don't own the Biker Mice From Mars.
2. I've used some lyrics from Linkin Park and Disney, they own these beautiful words, not me.
3. English isn't my first language, so if there are any grammatical or spelling mistakes, my apologies in advance.
4. This is a one-shot, I don't have the intention to write any more chapters.
5. But okay, never say never.

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"There."
After rubbing away the last blind spots in the original metallic black paint of the impressive Harley Davidson Super Glide, Charley did a few steps back to admire her work. The bike looked as good as new, ready to hit the road again.

Wiping off her forehead, the human female walked over to the old fridge in the corner of the garage and leaned forward to open it.
The door squeaked loudly in protest -so did her back-, telling Charley that the hinges -and her spine- could use some oil.
Mentally adding this to her already endless to-do list, her gaze wandered over the contents and finally spotted a bottle of water hidden behind the large supply of root beer.

It took her a little effort to reach it without knocking over the cans and when she finally felt the cold bottle under her fingers, she was already annoyed because this was taking at least a minute of her -already- precious time.
A minute she needed for far more important matters.
"Those mice...", she muttered under her breath as she opened the bottle and used her foot to close the fridge at the same time, but her mind was already elsewhere.

Spring had arrived in Chicago, which meant busy days for the Last Chance Garage.
As the sun finally regained strength after the long and dark days, every bike owner in town suddenly felt the strong desire to go out for a long drive.
She couldn't blame them, after all, there was nothing better than a road trip in the early days of spring.
Well, perhaps there was one thing even better and that was a road trip in the early days of spring on a well-maintained bike.
Yes, she was grateful that they trusted her enough to bring their bike to the Last Chance for a tune-up.
She just wished they didn't bring them all at the same time.
And while she was at it, she wished they would leave out the urgent message: 'I need it back as soon as possible.'

Heaving a sigh, the auburn-headed female focussed her attention on the next bike standing on her list.
For her, spring meant nothing but to let her mind go blank and just work, work, work.
But keeping a blank mind was hard since it was already half past four in the afternoon.
The Harley she just finished had taken more of her time than she'd calculated and now, she was behind schedule.
Charley was no woman to be stressed out easily, but she was now.
Stressed out.
Because there was so much to do in such little time and this went on for weeks already.

She hadn't had a proper night of sleep in days and hardly gave herself enough time to eat.
She yearned for a day off, so she could hide under her blankets and sleep for at least 24 hours.
But the garage was her bread and butter and since the bills had to be paid, a day off was out of the question right now.
She needed the money more than she liked to admit.
"Just keep going, Charlene, that's all you can do", she said firmly to herself as encouragement.
And so she did.

Perhaps she would've made it to get back on schedule if three certain furry friends hadn't such ridiculous sense of timing.
Three certain obnoxiously loud furry friends.
She could hear them coming from miles away, the loud music being the biggest clue, but her well-trained ears also recognized the sounds of their engines after working on them for many times already.
"Oh God, please, not now...", she moaned, but God wasn't in her favor today -he never was- and one of the motorized shutters slowly opened before three bikes drove inside, bringing nothing but chaos along with them.