Kiwi was sitting on the couch, focused on her laptop.
Vinnie lay next to her on his belly, his head resting in his hands as he watched her work with a look of genuine awe.
"Where did you learn all this stuff, sweetheart?" he asked curiously.
Kiwi shrugged, her eyes never leaving the screen.
"At college. Never finished, though. My parents died right before graduation..."
Vinnie studied her for a moment before sitting up straight.
"What happened to you after that?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
He wasn't sure if he should have asked that.
He didn't want to force her to talk—he knew better than anyone how annoying it was when people kept digging into things you wanted to keep buried.
But for some reason, he just had to know.
He felt this pressing urge to understand her, to know exactly what she had been through.
All so he could protect her.
To be there for her.
He wanted to make her feel less alone, because he knew exactly how heavy the silence of loneliness could be.
Kiwi sighed and set her laptop on the table.
She pulled a pillow to her chest, hugging it tight and resting her chin on the edge.
After staring at nothing for a second, she finally spoke.
"I... I couldn't handle losing them. I fell into this heavy depression. After a few weeks, I just gave up. I took every pill I had and went to sleep to never wake up again. Well, that was the plan, anyway."
She went quiet for a heartbeat.
"But Ruby found me. She got me to the hospital, and when it turned out I was physically okay, she moved me to a psychiatric clinic. I stayed there for about three months. Once I was stable enough to go home, I left. A few weeks after that, you guys popped up."
Vinnie watched her with a frown.
He expected to see some flicker of emotion, but she told the story with a cold, almost clinical distance—like she was talking about a stranger.
It made sense to him, though.
He knew that tone.
It was often the only way to talk about that kind of pain without it breaking you all over again.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart..." he said softly.
And he meant it.
Looking at her, he felt a sharp ache in his chest.
She must have felt so lonely, so completely helpless, to want to end it all.
Kiwi glanced at him, her expression softening.
"I feel much better since you guys got here... really. You gave me back a family. You gave me back hope..."
She suddenly jumped to her feet and grabbed Vinnie's hand, pulling him toward the wall next to the TV.
She stood on her toes to reach a picture hanging there, taking it down and handing it to him.
"This is me and my parents, a few weeks before they died..."
Vinnie studied the photo.
Kiwi was standing in the middle, looking happier than he had ever seen her.
Her eyes were clear and twinkling, her whole face lit up with a bright, easy smile.
Her father—a friendly-looking man with black hair graying at the temples and kind green eyes—stood on her right, his arm wrapped around her waist.
Then, Vinnie's gaze landed on her mother on the left, and he swallowed hard.
It was clear where Kiwi got her looks.
Her mother had the same long, wavy black hair, olive skin, and a figure most girls would die for.
She looked into the camera with blue eyes that twinkled but held a certain seriousness—a look Vinnie had learned to recognize.
But it was the love in the photo that hit him hardest.
You could tell just by looking at them how much they meant to each other.
They were a complete unit.
A real family.
Slowly, he looked up at Kiwi.
He was usually the one with the quick comeback, but now the words just wouldn't come.
Kiwi gave him a small, sad smile, her eyes telling him it was okay.
She knew that sometimes, words couldn't cover the weight of it all.
Gently, she took the picture and hung it back on the wall with a tenderness that made Vinnie's throat go tight.
He took a deep breath, forcing the heavy feeling down, and when Kiwi turned around, he gave her his favorite smile.
It felt a little fake, though.
That was mostly because when she moved toward him, a whiff of her scent tickled his nostrils, and his body responded immediately, the way it always did.
Kiwi noticed.
It wasn't hard to miss, as the usual mischievous spark in his eyes was replaced by something that could only be described as desire.
Her cheeks flushed, and her heart began to hammer against her ribs as that already familiar, heavy tingle settled in her lower abdomen.
They had been here before, circling this for months.
But unlike other times, they were completely alone.
Throttle and Modo were still out for groceries; there was no one to stop them this time.
The silence in the house was suddenly deafening.
They stood there in the living room, just looking at each other, the air between them thick with unspoken feelings.
Vinnie took a slow step closer, his usual cocky grin nowhere to be found.
When he was close enough, he reached out, his hand steady as he cupped her face.
He pulled her in slowly, almost as if he were giving her a way out.
She didn't take it, of course.
No, she wanted this.
Very badly, even, and she closed her eyes, her breath hitching.
When his lips finally touched hers, her heart did a little dance along with the butterflies in her stomach.
He kissed her softly, gently, almost carefully.
It wasn't very Vinnie-like, but then again, he had a soft streak he usually tried desperately to hide.
Just not today.
After that gentle kiss, he pulled back just enough to look at her, that arrogant, lazy spark returning to his red eyes.
"Is this okay, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
Kiwi could only nod, the words stuck in her throat.
The left corner of his mouth curled up, and without another word, he kissed her again.
This time, it was a little less gentle.
It wasn't rough, but it was heated, to say the least.
It was then that the dam inside her finally broke.
The desire she had been suppressing for God knew how long flooded her.
And just like that, she lost control, kissing him back with an eagerness she never knew she had.
Vinnie responded immediately, as if he had a broken dam inside him, too.
A low growl escaped his throat as he pulled her against him, his kiss turning rough and just as hungry as hers.
Kiwi gasped against his lips, her hands shaking as she pulled off his bandoliers.
He lifted her easily, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist right before he shoved her up against the wall, still kissing her so passionately she could barely catch her breath.
Her fingers tangled in his fur, her nails digging into his back as she answered his kiss with just as much passion.
With rough movements, Vinnie practically yanked her shirt over her head, his hands moving hungrily over her skin.
But just as he reached for her pants, he stopped.
He pulled back, both of them gasping for air.
Kiwi rested her head against the wall, her legs still hooked around his waist while he braced himself with one hand to keep them steady.
"Well, damn, sweetheart. That escalated quickly," he breathed, a small, lopsided smile playing on his lips.
Kiwi nodded, a breathless laugh escaping her.
"Yeah... that always seems to happen when you're around."
He flashed her an arrogant grin.
"It's a gift, babe."
But then, his expression grew serious again.
"I don't want it to be like this. I don't want you to feel like I only want you for... this," he said softly, his voice rougher than she had ever heard it.
He was still holding her close, and it was costing him every ounce of his legendary lack of self-control to stay still.
But he had made a promise to himself—and to Throttle, for that matter.
He intended to keep it.
She deserved that.
Kiwi sighed, resting her forehead against his.
"You're right. Maybe this is all a little too soon."
Vinnie gently set her back on the floor, his eyes lingering on her.
Then, he reached out, his thumb hovering near her mouth.
"You're bleeding."
Kiwi touched her lower lip, feeling the sting.
There was a small cut from where things had gotten a little too intense.
"Yeah... guess we need a little practice with the buckteeth and all," she smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
"It's just a small cut, no biggie, Vin. Don't worry."
Vinnie nodded, though a flicker of guilt crossed his face.
Kiwi didn't miss it, and she reached for his hand.
"I don't regret it," she said quietly, her fingers brushing his.
"Me neither..."
After holding hands for a brief moment, Vinnie pulled away and handed her shirt back.
She quickly pulled it over her head while he did the same with his bandoliers.
The room was quiet again, but the air was still buzzing with the heat of a moment ago.
Kiwi stared down at her feet, her mind racing.
She wasn't sure if she should say it.
What if he laughed?
What if it changed everything?
What if...?
"I'm still a virgin," she blurted out.
Wow, Kiwi.
Smooth.
Subtle.
Honestly...
Vinnie froze, his eyes widening in surprise.
Kiwi avoided his gaze, shuffling her feet and wishing the floor would swallow her whole.
Suddenly, he was standing right in front of her.
He reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"More reason to take it slow, sweetheart..."
There was that low voice again.
The one that made her shiver.
The one that made her want to jump him all over again.
But at least he wasn't laughing.
He didn't even make a joke out of it.
How... out of character.
He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"And more reason to make the first time special, instead of... this..."
He gave her a smile that was uncharacteristically shy.
Kiwi felt the heat rush to her cheeks; she just couldn't help it.
"Yeah, I guess you're right..."
"I know I'm right, doll. You deserve better than just ordinary sex against a wall," he grinned, punctuating it with a classic Vinnie wink.
A giggle escaped her lips, making her feel like a teenager in love.
Well, maybe she wasn't a teenager anymore, but she was, in fact, very much in love.
Besides, age was just a number.
Vinnie leaned forward and planted a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close with a happy sigh.
Home.
Holding him felt like coming home, and it was the greatest feeling ever.
It was then that they suddenly heard a loud noise from outside.
Vinnie froze, his ears pricking up as he caught the heavy rumble of machinery.
"Hm. Sounds like trouble," he said, reaching out to grab Kiwi's hand.
"Come on, doll. Let's check it out."
They hurried to the garage, where Vinnie peered out the window, keeping low to stay out of sight.
His tail flicked and his eyes went wide.
"What the..."
Greasepit was sitting in the cab of a massive crane equipped with a wrecking ball, parked right outside Kiwi's fence.
A line of goons stood flanking the machine, looking ready for a demolition.
Vinnie gritted his teeth, his protective instinct flaring up instantly.
"Wait here, sweetheart. I'm gonna ask some questions."
Kiwi tried to grab his arm to stop him, but he was already on his bike.
He roared out of the garage, the fence swinging open as he fired a laser blast at the crane to get Greasepit's attention.
"Heys! Yous got a problem?" Greasepit shouted down.
Vinnie rolled his eyes and hopped off his bike.
"Oh no, no, no, greasedump... but you do."
He reached up, hauled the big guy out of the cab by his dungarees, and slammed him against the side of the machine.
"Talk fast, oil-breath. What are you doing here?" he growled, his nose almost touching Greasepit's.
He heard the telltale click of weapons behind him.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the goons leveling their guns at his back.
Without even looking, Vinnie whipped out his laser pistol and shot the weapons right out of their hands in a blur of movement.
He turned his focus back to Greasepit.
"Well?"
"It's all nice and legalized! And yous can't do a thing about it!" Greasepit stammered, frantically waving a piece of paper in the air.
Vinnie snatched it out of his greasy hand.
He scanned the document, and his heart sank.
Bad news.
Apparently, Limburger had secured a permit to level the house to make room for a new subway system.
It was a permit that didn't say a word about the residents, giving Kiwi no chance to pack her things.
It was a foul move, even for Limburger.
It also tied Vinnie's hands.
For once, he couldn't just blow everything to smithereens.
If he did, they would have the cops on them in minutes, and Throttle would have his head.
Best to talk to Throttle about this.
Surely his fearless leader would have an idea of how to fix this without ending up in orange jumpsuits.
All he had to do now was buy them some time.
Severely annoyed that he couldn't do what he really wanted, he hoisted Greasepit into the air and threw him against the wrecking ball.
The impact sent the heavy iron sphere spinning, and Greasepit went flying, crashing right into the group of goons.
"That'll teach 'em," Vinnie muttered.
He jumped on his bike and sped back toward the house, the fence clattering shut behind him.
It wouldn't stop a wrecking ball, but leaving it open felt too much like an invitation, and they were obviously not welcome here.
...
Once inside, Vinnie skidded to a halt in the garage, his brakes shrieking.
Kiwi was on him before he could even kick down the kickstand.
"What is going on?" she demanded, her voice trembling.
Her gut was telling her that something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Vinnie pulled off his helmet, his expression grim.
"Big trouble, that's what. Limburger found a way to level your house, and he made it legal. He must have found out you're living here with us..."
He trailed off when he saw the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Jesus, Vin... they can't take away my house! It's all I have left from my parents!" Kiwi breathed in a panic, grabbing onto him.
Vinnie gently cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Listen to me, sweetheart. Like that is gonna happen. But I need to talk to Throttle about this."
He let her go and hit the comms on his bike.
After a few seconds of static, Throttle's voice crackled over the speakers.
"Yeah, Vinnie?"
"Yo, fearless leader. We got us a little situation over here..."
Vinnie narrowed his eyes as the sound of explosions echoed in the background of the call.
"HEY! Are you guys having fun without moi?" he asked, sounding genuinely agitated.
"Fun isn't the word I'd use. Goons with blazers everywhere, and they keep on coming. Not that we can't handle them," Throttle said drily.
"So, what's going on, Vincent? Can't get your swelled head through a door opening?"
"Haha, very funny," Vinnie responded sarcastically, wrinkling his nose.
"Listen to this..."
He quickly laid out the situation with Greasepit and the demolition permit.
"We need to stop them, Throttle. I can't lose my house!" Kiwi cut in the moment Vinnie finished.
"I know, Kiwi. But if they've got a legal order, they can call the police if we give them trouble..."
"Let them! I'll kick their asses!" Vinnie growled, hating the feeling of being helpless.
"You know better, Vincent. The law is the law. Listen, it does explain this... sudden act of violence over here. They're obviously trying to hold us up. We'll be there as soon as possible, and then we'll figure something out. Meanwhile, hold the fort, Vincent."
"No problem..." Vinnie smirked, but the dangerous edge in his voice didn't escape Throttle.
"And I do not want you pounding on those clowns and getting your stupid tail thrown into the slammer. You hear that?"
Vinnie clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white under his fur.
"Aarrgh, FINE!"
"Good. We'll be there as soon as possible."
Vinnie snapped the radio off and looked at Kiwi.
"Well, this sure sucks..."
Kiwi nodded, wiping away her tears almost angrily. "You said it."
...
An hour later, Greasepit was finally back in the land of the living and preparing to finish the job Limburger had given him.
Vinnie stood by the window, practically shaking with anger.
He knew better than to disobey Throttle, but this was ridiculous.
He couldn't just stand by and let them get away with this.
That wasn't who he was.
"Any last words, mousie?" Greasepit yelled from outside.
"How about eating Martian Mouse knuckles, you septic slimeball!" Vinnie yelled back.
His hand gripped the door handle, but right before he could yank it open and do something stupid, Kiwi grabbed his bandoliers, holding on tight.
"Vinnie, cut it out! Remember what Throttle said!"
That was enough to make him stop. Vinnie sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping an inch.
"Ah man, frustration city..."
He moved back to the window and gazed outside.
"Well, hate to say it, but this looks like the last stand for your house, sweetheart..."
Kiwi looked out beside him and saw Greasepit lining up the crane.
Her heart felt like it was going to explode right out of her chest.
"No, this can't be happening... right?" she whispered.
Vinnie stared out at the crane, his mind racing for a loophole.
"Wait a minute... maybe I gotta lay off the goons... but nobody said squat—"
He punched his fist into his other palm.
"—about the machines!"
His ears twitched, and he started laughing, that wild, impulsive spark back in his eyes.
Kiwi looked at him, alarmed by the sound.
"I don't know, Vinnie, I think..."
But Vinnie either ignored her or didn't even hear her.
His brain was occupied by only one thing: creating mayhem.
Still grinning, he threw the window open, jumped onto the sill, and drew his laser.
He aimed and fired a precise shot right at the connection of the wrecking ball.
The chain snapped under the heat.
The massive iron ball went flying, hitting the pavement and rolling with unstoppable momentum right over the line of parked buggies.
Metal crunched and glass shattered as the goons scrambled to get out of the way, screaming their heads off.
"Alright! Serve 'em up and knock 'em down!" Vinnie cheered.
He pulled a backflip off the sill like it was nothing, landing smoothly on the garage floor.
Kiwi jumped into his arms, and he whirled her around, both of them celebrating the small victory.
"What a guy..." she sighed, hopelessly in love with this mouse from Mars.
When Vinnie gently set her back on her feet, she pressed her lips against his.
He kissed her back, but the sudden sound of gunfire from outside shattered the moment.
He let her go and grabbed his helmet.
"Looks like my fans are calling for me. It would be so rude to keep them waiting. I mean, I'm allowed to defend what's ours, right?"
He hopped onto his bike, the engine roaring to life.
"Don't get carried away now, Vinnie..." Kiwi pleaded.
He gave her a quick wink.
"Who? Moi? AAAOOOWW!"
He popped a wheelie, tore out of the garage, and flew into the yard.
"Make room for Vinnie!"
Kiwi crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head with a smile.
Crazy mouse.
But honestly, without Throttle there to keep him in line, completely out of control.
The CB radio suddenly beeped, and she grabbed the microphone.
"Throttle?"
"Yeah, Kiwi. Everything okay?"
Kiwi winced as she heard a loud explosion followed by Vinnie's characteristic battle cry echoing from outside.
"Er... not for long, I guess."
"How's Vincent?"
"Well... I think you better step on it. Honestly, how do you control that mouse?"
She heard Throttle let out a long, weary sigh, and she couldn't help but smile.
Poor guy.
It had to be a tough job, being the leader of a crew like this.
"We're trying to get there as fast as we can, but these goons have a party drive that just won't quit. Try to keep a low profile. See you soon!"
Kiwi shook her head as she hung the microphone back up.
"Sure! A low profile... no problem. Tell that to Vinnie."
...
Outside, Vinnie was having the time of his life.
One of the goons was trying to flee the scene in a massive bulldozer, but Vinnie was right on his tail.
Other goons tried to keep up, but they didn't stand a chance against his speed.
As Vinnie drew level with the bulldozer, he patted the side of his bike.
"Okay, sweetheart. Stay right with me," he commanded.
The bike beeped in acknowledgment and held its course.
Vinnie leaped from the saddle and onto the moving machine.
He scrambled into the cab, hauled the driver out the window, and took the wheel himself.
With a huge grin, he pulled a hard U-turn and drove straight toward the oncoming goons.
They all crumpled against the bulldozer's front blade.
"Geez, don't these yahoos know when a biker wants his way?" he laughed.
Suddenly, the bulldozer came to an abrupt halt, jerking him forward.
"Uh oh... I smell trouble... or maybe it's just my breath blowing back in my face," the white-furred youngster joked, beyond hyped.
"So long, fuzz-face!" he heard Greasepit yelling.
The big guy was operating a crane with a massive grabbing hook that had hoisted the bulldozer high into the air.
Vinnie shook his head, still smiling and not even close to impressed.
He slid out the back of the cab and dropped gracefully onto his bike, which was waiting right below.
Gunning the engine, he circled back to a safe distance.
Greasepit was still yelling threats, completely clueless that Vinnie had already bailed.
The guy even hopped out of his crane and walked toward the suspended bulldozer, looking like he wanted to see how scared the mouse was.
Phsh.
Weirdo.
"Hey, fat-face! Over heeeeeeere!" Vinnie cheered.
Greasepit spun around, his jaw dropping.
Vinnie leaned forward over his windshield, laughing at the look on Greasepit's face.
"I just wanted to tell ya—I don't think your rig is rated for a load that big."
Greasepit blinked.
"Uhhh... it ain't?"
"Ah-ah..."
Vinnie pointed toward the crane.
Greasepit turned just in time to see the crane arm buckling and cracking.
Before he could even think about running, the bulldozer came crashing down right on top of him.
"Well... just goes to show ya, you should always read the enclosed driver's manual!" Vinnie laughed.
He started driving back toward Kiwi's house, but as he looked around at the absolute carnage and the flattened remains of the demolition crew, his palms suddenly felt a little sweaty.
Maybe he did get a little carried away.
Uh oh.
Throttle was definitely going to kill him.
But hey, at least he had his fun today.
And he had definitely burned off some of that girl-related stress.
He let out a loud, triumphant laugh.
Man.
What a day.
...
Just when he parked his bike, Throttle and Modo roared into the garage.
Kiwi ran toward them immediately.
"Guys, are you okay?"
Throttle nodded, his face tight with weariness.
"Yeah, and you?"
Kiwi nodded back.
"Fine."
Modo stepped off his bike and pulled off his helmet, wiping some sweat from his brow.
"Pfewie, those goons wouldn't give up, man. Sorry it took us so long, Kiwi ma'am."
"No problem, Vinnie had it all eh... under control..." she said slowly, biting her lip to keep from smiling.
The white-furred mouse was awfully quiet, leaning against one of the counters with his hands behind his back.
Throttle looked over at him, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses.
Clearly, he wasn't amused.
"I eh... Yeah... I... hehe... About that..." Vinnie chuckled nervously, tugging at his bandana.
"You had one job, Vincent. One job. Destroy everything in sight is not what I meant by 'holding the fort'..." Throttle said, his voice dropping to that dangerous low level as his tail began to lash back and forth.
Vinnie took a few cautious steps backward.
"I know, but—"
Kiwi quickly jumped in to intercept.
"Look, Throttle, if Vinnie hadn't stopped them, my house would be dust right now. He did what needed to be done..." she trailed off when she caught Throttle's unwavering stare.
"Okay, okay, I admit... he maybe did a little bit more than was strictly necessary, but still. Listen. I've got a plan. I already called the police, and—"
The doorbell rang, the sound cutting through the garage like a gunshot.
The mice all sucked in a sharp breath.
"Kiwi, you did what?" Throttle asked, looking genuinely shocked.
"Yeah, you did what?" Vinnie echoed.
But Kiwi ignored them.
She moved to the window and took a quick glance outside.
Two police officers were standing on the porch.
She turned back to the guys with a look of pure determination.
"I will handle this, okay? Trust me."
But as she walked toward the door, the mice followed right behind her, helmets already on to hide their faces.
She let them, as there was no time to argue, not anymore.
The time had come to play the damsel in distress.
She quickly messed up her hair, took a sharp breath to steady her nerves, and yanked open the door with a look of pure despair.
"Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here!" she cried, rushing outside and grabbing the arm of the first officer she reached.
"I thought I was going to die!"
"Easy, ma'am. We came as soon as we got your call. Can we come in?" one of them asked.
He had a young, friendly face.
The other officer was older but had a similarly calm demeanor.
"Yeah, of course, come in, come in. These are three friends of mine—they just got here, don't mind them. I called them after I called you, I was just so scared..." she babbled, leading them toward the kitchen.
The officers cast a suspicious glance at the three "friends" in full biker gear, but they nodded and followed her inside.
The mice exchanged a look behind their visors, grins spreading across their faces.
This girl just kept surprising them.
They followed the group into the kitchen but kept a respectful distance.
"Please, sit down. Can I offer you something to drink? Tea, maybe?" Kiwi asked, her voice and hands shaking with practiced precision.
"No, thank you, ma'am. Please, sit down. My name is Officer Miller," the younger one said.
Kiwi sat, maintaining the terrified look as tears welled in her eyes.
"And my name is Officer Sullivan," the older one added, pulling out a notebook and pen.
Once he had all of Kiwi's personal data, he looked up.
"Miss Lavendor, can you please try to tell us what happened?"
Kiwi stayed locked in her role and took a few shaky breaths.
"I was just sitting in my living room, doing some work on my computer, and suddenly..."
She paused, pretending to fight back an emotional breakdown.
"Suddenly, I heard all this noise. My house was almost shaking, and at first, I thought it was an earthquake. But when I ran outside, there was this guy... Oh my god... he was huge. He was standing there with a whole army of men, and he told me he was going to destroy my house. He showed me a piece of paper, told me that it was all legal. I panicked. I ran back inside and suddenly, all hell broke loose. It sounded like there was a war going on... Oh, it was awful, officers!!" and she burst into tears.
The officers waited patiently for her to compose herself, which she eventually did, or at least enough to continue.
"I didn't know what was happening, so I called you. I was so scared. I thought I was going to die!" she sobbed, wiping her eyes with trembling hands.
"Do you have any idea who caused the destruction outside?" Miller asked gently.
Kiwi shook her head.
"I was hiding inside. But it must be that big man. God, the look in his eyes... he was pure evil."
"My colleagues are talking to him now, as we speak. Why don't you just try to calm down a little bit, ma'am? I'll be right back."
Sullivan stood up, gave a short nod to the mice, and stepped outside.
Kiwi continued to cry softly as Officer Miller patted her hand.
"It's okay now, Miss Lavendor. You're safe."
The girl nodded, staring at the table, keeping the act alive until the very end.
After about fifteen minutes, Sullivan walked back into the kitchen.
"Well, we checked the papers on this operation, and it was indeed authorized. However, the execution wasn't. We'll be taking these men in, and your house is safe, ma'am."
Kiwi slowly lifted her head, her eyes still watery.
"Really? Just like that?" she whispered.
"Yeah, it's a shady business, alright. These guys all have records. And that man you mentioned? He tried to tell us the destruction was caused by a giant mouse on a motorcycle."
Sullivan shook his head, stifling a laugh.
"Honestly, they'll say anything to stay out of jail, but a mouse on a bike... that's a new one."
Miller stood up.
"We might need an official statement later. If we do, we'll ask you to come down to the station. Would that be a problem?"
"No, not at all. I'll do anything to help put people like that in jail," Kiwi replied, her voice still trembling slightly.
"Alright. You're gonna be okay now, Miss Lavendor?" Sullivan asked.
"Yeah, my friends will take care of me... Thank you so much, officers. May God be with you."
She offered them her hand.
The officers shook it, nodded, and headed for the door, but Miller suddenly turned back.
"Oh, before I forget. City Hall will make sure the mess is cleaned up within a few days. You'll probably have to deal with some noise, but after that, you can leave this whole incident behind you, okay?"
Kiwi looked at him with big blue eyes filled with innocence.
"Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much."
A few moments later, they heard the front door click shut.
For a long second, there was total silence.
The mice stared at Kiwi as she wiped the fake tears from her face.
"That was... awesome. Yeah. That was awesome, sweetheart," Vinnie eventually said, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Maybe not my style, but still. Awesome."
Kiwi smiled.
"Told ya I could handle it! I knew Greasepit was too stupid to lie to the police. It was his word against mine. Playing the helpless girl living alone always works."
Vinnie moved toward her almost lazily, pulling his helmet off.
Once he reached her, he pulled her into a hug.
"You're the best, sweetheart," he murmured, looking down at her.
"Thanks..." she breathed, looking a little dazed again.
Throttle watched them, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Something was different.
The energy between them had shifted, and then there was that small cut on Kiwi's lip.
He decided now wasn't the time to ask questions, and instead flashed her a warm smile.
"Yeah, really impressive, babe. Smart thinking. And I have to say, your acting is top-notch," he chuckled.
"Yeah, yeah, they should give you an Oscar for that one," Modo rumbled, just as amused as his bros.
Kiwi's cheeks flushed.
"Oh, you guys... it was the least I could do after everything you've done for me. But I gotta tell ya, this whole thing made me hungry. Let's go out and eat. I don't feel like cooking."
"Alright!" the mice cheered.
As they rode out of the garage, they saw Greasepit and the goons being loaded into a police van, handcuffed and fuming.
"Now there's a sight for sore eyes, bros," Throttle chuckled.
"Yeah, that will keep him and Limburger busy for a while," Kiwi giggled.
Vinnie pumped a fist into the air as his engine roared.
"Alright you mamma-jammers... Let's ROCK..."
"...and RIDE!"
...
Kiwi was looking at the jukebox, trying to decide what song she was in the mood for.
After dinner, they had headed to a local bar to finish the evening festively.
The mice were sitting at a table in the corner, helmets on to keep their cover.
No one seemed to mind, though.
The place was loud, the drinks were flowing, and everybody was having a good time.
Or well, not everybody.
As it turned out, there was someone who wasn't here for fun, but for something else entirely.
She could already feel his presence behind her even before she saw him, and a cold shiver ran down her spine.
Slowly, she turned around, her back now pressed against the jukebox.
"Give me your money, and nothing will happen to you."
Despite the noise of the bar, the voice of the man standing across from her cut straight through it, low and hateful.
He was big, almost Vinnie's height.
He was wearing a black hoodie and torn pants, his face half-hidden in the shadows of his hood, but she could still see his eyes glistening with hate.
She wanted to tell him to go away, to just leave her be, but instead, she just stood there, frozen.
A glitter caught her eye, and her gaze dropped.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the knife in his hands.
It was big, and it looked sharp.
Very sharp.
Oh...
...shit.
The man, clearly not amused by her silence, took a slow, deliberate step forward.
"I said... Give me your money..."
Kiwi tried to find her breath, but instead, all she found was fear.
She had no idea why this guy terrified her this much, but he did.
And so she just stood there.
Completely and utterly petrified.
"Say there, citizen. Why don't you just leave the lady alone?"
Vinnie's voice.
It was dangerously low, vibrating with a threat that made the air around them almost feel too thick to breathe.
Kiwi blinked and looked up to see Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie standing right behind the hooded man, ready to rumble and looking more serious than she had ever seen them.
The guy slowly turned around, measuring the three figures from head to toe.
"Oh yeah? And who's gonna make me?"
Vinnie flexed his muscles, but before he—or his bros for that matter—could move, all hell broke loose.
Clearly, the man's question was rhetorical, and he whirled around with surprising speed.
Kiwi's eyes followed the knife as he raised it high, the light catching the silver blade.
Before she could even fully process what was happening, the man lunged forward, bringing the knife down toward her chest.
There was no time to dodge.
All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and brace for impact, a soft squeak escaping her.
But the pain never came.
Instead, she smelled that familiar, comforting scent that meant so much to her.
She opened her eyes just in time to see the blade burying itself deep into Vinnie's right arm.
"No..." she breathed in shock, but Vinnie didn't even flinch.
In fact, he hardly seemed to notice he had been stabbed, fueled with rage as he was.
He went to grab the guy, but his brothers were faster.
Modo snatched the criminal by the shoulder and spun him around like a ragdoll.
Throttle was already moving, his fist connecting with the man's face so hard the sound of his nose breaking echoed over the music.
The guy went down hard, unconscious before he even hit the floor.
Vinnie immediately turned to Kiwi and gripped her by the shoulders.
"Sweetheart, are you alright?" he demanded, his voice thick with concern.
Kiwi looked at him with wide eyes, but then slowly nodded, her breathing rapid and irregular.
For a few seconds, Vinnie just searched her face, his hands steady on her shoulders, making sure she wasn't hurt and that she wasn't shaking too hard.
Once he was certain she was in one piece, his focus shifted.
He looked down, and his gaze landed on the knife embedded in his right arm, just below the shoulder.
"Jesus, Vin..." Kiwi panted, her eyes glued to the knife as well.
Vinnie blinked, and his left hand reached instinctively for the handle, his fingers closing around it as if he meant to yank it out right then and there.
He probably would have, if Modo hadn't suddenly been at his side, his large hand clamping Vinnie's wrist like a vice.
"Vinnie, don't! If you pull it out now, you'll bleed out before we can stop it. You hear me?"
Vinnie suddenly gritted his teeth, his entire body tensing as the white-hot pain finally registered.
It was almost as if his nerves had just caught up.
Maybe they had.
All that had mattered so far was Kiwi.
But now...
He watched, almost mesmerized and slightly horrified, as his precious white fur turned a deep, dark red.
Without warning, his legs became weak.
He stumbled back, his weight dragging Kiwi down to the floor with him as he fell to his knees.
"That motherfucking...," he gasped, his breathing becoming heavier with every passing second.
For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off the metal sticking out of his arm.
It was the same for Kiwi.
She sat on her knees next to him, still frozen, her eyes locked on the injury in a state of total shock.
Throttle quickly scanned the room.
The music was still playing, but the crowd was starting to murmur, and a dozen eyes were fixed on the bikers in the corner.
They were drawing way too much attention.
If an ambulance or the police showed up now, their cover would be blown.
"Modo, grab Vinnie. We need to get out of here."
Modo didn't need to be told twice.
He hauled Vinnie up, slinging his brother's left arm around his neck.
Wrapping his own arm firmly around Vinnie's waist, he began dragging the younger mouse toward the exit.
Kiwi and Throttle followed in a blur, the penetrating gazes of the crowd burning into them until the door finally swung shut.
...
When they stepped into the living room, the reality of the wound finally crashed through Vinnie's adrenaline, and the realization started to sink in.
He was hurt.
He needed help.
Medical help.
The thought alone was enough for the living room to vanish around him.
In its place, flickering images of a filthy lab flashed before his eyes.
Needles.
A scalpel.
His face...
He could even smell the sterile, chemical stench mixed with that metallic scent of old blood.
A humming voice filled his head, echoing against his skull like a drill.
That song...
"No..."
"Easy now, Vin. You'll be okay," Modo said, still holding him as he guided him toward the couch.
But Vinnie shook his head, and he slammed his heels into the floor.
"I said no!"
With a desperate surge, he yanked himself free.
Modo, surprised by the sudden move, tried to grab his little brother again before he could pull the knife out, but Vinnie just snapped.
He went from zero to a hundred in a split second.
Driven by sheer panic, he found a strength that even Modo was no match for; he shoved the gray-furred giant away so hard that Modo flew against the wall with a loud bang.
The wall trembled, and a few photo frames came crashing down, the glass shattering into a thousand pieces as they hit the ground.
A shard grazed Modo's cheek, but he hardly noticed as he pushed himself back to his feet.
"Whoa, settle, Vincent, settle," Throttle breathed, alarmed by the sudden change.
He was at Vinnie's side in the blink of an eye, reaching out to grab his arm.
But Vinnie slapped his hand away, shaking his head with so much force his ears flapped against his skull.
"No, no, no, no, I can't do this, man. Never again..." he wheezed, his hand already reaching for the knife again.
Out of nowhere, Modo charged from the side, tackling him right before Vinnie's fingers could close around the handle.
They both hit the floor hard, Vinnie on his back with Modo pinning him down.
Throttle was there in an instant, dropping beside them to help Modo keep him still.
"Goddammit, LET ME GO! You can't force me to go back! I will NEVER go back!" Vinnie screamed, his voice hoarse as he fought with everything he had to break their hold.
"Vincent, calm down. It will all be okay, but you need help..." Throttle said as calmly as he could muster, pressing Vinnie's left arm firmly to the ground.
"I do not!" Vinnie grunted, using every bit of strength to get free.
Modo's metal hand took Vinnie's chin in a tight grip, trying to force his little brother to look at him, desperate to get through to him.
"Easy, baby bro, easy. Throttle is right, you need to calm down..."
But he didn't.
The more they tried to contain him, the more panicked Vinnie felt.
It was as if he were lying there again, strapped to a table...
"No!"
His long tail lashed through the air, wrapping around Modo's throat before giving a hard jerk.
It didn't just cut off Modo's air; it threw him completely off balance.
With a loud bang, the big fellow landed hard on his back.
Throttle tried to keep Vinnie's arm down to prevent him from pulling the knife, but without Modo's weight, it was useless.
Before he knew it, Vinnie was back on his knees, shoving Throttle away with desperate strength.
The tan-furred mouse crashed into the living room table, the wood collapsing under him.
A moan escaped Throttle's mouth, but despite the sharp pain in his back, he was on his feet in seconds.
Modo was standing again, too, and they both held their hands out, palms open and non-threatening.
"Okay, okay," Throttle panted, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"We won't touch you. But shit, little bro, you need help..."
Vinnie, also on his feet again, scrambled backward, his chest heaving.
"No, no, no..." he mumbled, shaking his head as he glanced down at the knife.
"No, everything is fine. Don't you see? I'm fine..."
His left hand reached slowly for the handle again.
"Vincent, don't!" Throttle yelled, taking a step toward his friend with one hand raised.
But it was too late.
With a firm yank, Vinnie pulled out the knife.
Blood spat from the wound, splattering his fur, his face, and the floor, but he hardly seemed to notice.
The knife clattered onto the hardwood, and Vinnie looked back at his brothers.
"See? I'm fine! Just a little battle tattoo, bros. Nothing major."
His voice was flat, almost toneless.
He didn't sound like Vinnie at all.
It was like he was someone else.
Standing there with his eyes wide, tears streaming down his face while blood poured from his arm... he just looked so lost, Throttle realized.
Lost and scared.
He tried to get closer again, desperate now that his best friend was standing there bleeding out, but Vinnie's hand flew to his gun.
"Stay away from me!"
The tan-furred mouse stopped instantly, raising his hands.
"Okay, okay. But seriously, Vin, we should probably wash away the blood. You look like shit, man."
It was a weak attempt to stroke that now-absent ego—a desperate move to bring the old Vinnie back.
It was the only Vinnie he knew how to talk to.
Not surprisingly, it didn't work.
Not even close.
Vinnie just shook his head, entirely trapped in the fog of trauma.
"I... I..." he stuttered, staring at the wound.
"I'm fine... I'M FINE!" he suddenly yelled the moment he saw Throttle try to close the gap.
Throttle stopped again, letting out a frustrated sigh.
He shared a look with Modo, who looked just as helpless.
Kiwi had been watching the scene pressed flat against the wall, her eyes wide in shock.
She had never seen Vinnie like this—not even the first time he was wounded.
Maybe he hadn't had the time to process it back then, with Ruby slamming a needle into his neck and all, but he did now.
And he had lost it.
Completely and utterly lost it.
It was painful to see him like this.
She had vowed to herself that she would never see that specific pain in his eyes again, yet here she was.
Helpless, once again.
No.
No more.
She pushed herself away from the wall and took a few steps toward Vinnie.
But as she tried to pass Modo, he reached out and gently caught her arm.
"He ain't himself right now, Kiwi ma'am. It would kill him if he hurt you. Maybe you should..."
But Kiwi laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"It's okay. I know what I'm doing. Listen, go to my room and grab my pills out of the top drawer of my nightstand. Take five of them, crush them into powder, and put it in a glass of water. Okay?"
Modo gave her one more worried look, but he let go and nodded, quickly leaving the room.
Throttle was still standing in the same spot, and Kiwi gave him a reassuring smile before she turned her attention back to Vinnie.
He was standing in the middle of the room, looking more vulnerable than ever.
Blood was still streaming from the wound, and tears kept dripping from his eyes onto his blood-stained cheeks, though he didn't even seem to notice them.
His body was shaking so severely he was wobbling, but somehow—Kiwi suspected it was the adrenaline—he managed to stay on his feet.
When she looked into his wide, staring eyes, her heart ached.
She recognized that look.
It was a look she had seen in her own mirror many times before.
Panic.
Fear.
Pain.
It was all there.
It was the look of pure trauma.
Suddenly, the image of his baby picture flashed before her eyes.
That sweet, innocent face with eyes full of love...
Her breath hitched.
God, Vinnie... what happened to you?
Although she felt like breaking down herself, Kiwi forced herself to stay strong for him.
Step by step, she walked closer.
The moment Vinnie realized what she was doing, his hand flew to his gun again.
"No, no, no, no, please, don't, just... don't," he rasped, aiming the weapon at her.
"Stay away from me, please. I can't go back there..."
"Kiwi, stop!" Throttle hissed, but Kiwi shook her head, her eyes locked on the white-furred mouse standing across from her.
"Easy now, Vin. It's just me," she said, her voice soft but steady.
She knew he needed that.
"I'm not going to hurt you. You're right, okay? You're fine. In fact, you've never looked better, love. I just want to thank you for saving my life... again."
As she spoke, she took another step.
Vinnie just stared, his eyes pleading as tears still streamed down his face.
The gun was still pointed at her chest, but his hands were shaking even more violently—a sign she hoped meant the fight was leaving him.
Knowing he needed more than just words, she took a deep breath.
It had worked once before.
She could only hope it would work today.
"When you feel you're alone... Cut off from this cruel world..." she sang softly.
Her voice was shaky, but it was warm enough to cut through the fog.
The moment he heard her, Vinnie's breath hitched, and his eyes widened.
"Your instinct is telling you to run... Listen to your heart..."
Still watching her, his wheezy breathing finally began to level out.
"Those angel voices... They'll sing to you, they'll be your guide... back home..."
Kiwi slowly lifted her hand and laid it over Vinnie's, right on top of the gun.
"When life leaves us blind... Love keeps us kind..."
She gently pushed his hand down until the gun slipped from his grip and clattered onto the floor.
Then she took the last few steps, taking his hands in hers.
"It's okay, Vinnie. No one is going to harm you... Not while I'm around."
The panic slowly faded from his eyes, and the tears stopped.
But as the adrenaline ebbed away, his strength went with it.
He wobbled for a second, looking like he might stay upright, but then his legs gave out, and he fell to his knees.
Kiwi knelt right next to him, straight into the pool of his blood, her hand resting on his arm.
"Here, drink something. You look like you need it," she said with a smile, holding up her other hand.
Modo quietly stepped in and handed her the glass of water.
She gave it to Vinnie, who drank until it was empty, his breathing much calmer but still irregular.
It sounded like he was sobbing, but Kiwi knew better.
It was just his body trying to purge the panic—escaping the cloud of trauma and coming back to reality.
"Thanks, Vin... for saving my life. Again," Kiwi smiled, squeezing his arm lovingly.
He looked up at her, that wild spark still flickering in his eyes as he reached out.
His fingers brushed her cheek with so much tenderness that tears filled Kiwi's eyes.
She closed them for a brief moment, simply leaning into his touch.
But when she opened them, she saw his expression change.
A frown deepened on his face as he looked down at the empty glass.
Then, he slowly raised his head, looking back at Kiwi with eyes that were suddenly fuming.
"What did you give me?" he demanded.
Without waiting for an answer, he tried to shove himself back up, but he failed miserably, already too dizzy to move.
Throttle moved in quickly, kneeling beside him to hold his brother steady.
Kiwi looked at Vinnie with pleading eyes.
"I'm sorry, Vinnie, but we had no choice. It's for your own good. You need help..."
Vinnie shook his head, desperately fighting the darkness pulling at him.
"No... no, no, no. I trusted you..." he whispered, and he tried to lunge upward one last time.
This time, it cost Throttle almost no effort to hold him down.
"Easy, Vincent..."
The young mouse let out a frustrated breath, and after one final attempt to get up, his eyes rolled back in his head.
His body went completely limp, and Throttle caught his head before it could hit the blood-stained floor.
"I'm sorry..." Kiwi said, so softly that Throttle almost missed it.
The room was silent for a heavy moment.
Then, Kiwi looked up, her voice returning to a position of command.
"Grab some towels. We need to keep pressure on the wound," she ordered.
Modo quickly left the room again.
Throttle used his free hand to rest it on her shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze.
"Very impressive, babe."
"Thanks... I guess..." she said quietly, climbing to her feet.
There was a heavy weight in her stomach, a feeling she knew was guilt.
She had betrayed him, yes.
But she also knew she would do it again if she had to.
He could only hate her if he was alive, and all that mattered to her was that he kept breathing.
"Stay with him, okay? When Modo comes back, keep pressure on that wound. I'm gonna go call Ruby."
And with that, she left the room.