The First Blush

Charley was yanked unwillingly from her dreams by the droning buzz of her alarm clock. Groaning, she reached over and tried to slap the snooze button - and ended up knocking the clock off the nightstand. With another groan and a whimper, she scooted forward and hung over the side of the bed for a moment before her flailing hand finally hit home and silence descended. Wincing, she pressed her face into the pillow again.

Last night had been spent doing what had become a normal part of her life ever since three Martians fell into it; battling goons and blowing stuff up. It had been kind of fun at the time, but now the adrenaline had worn off and her tired body was complaining all over, and the muscles around her shoulders were in knots.

Did she have anything to do today? No, that was a stupid question; she always had something to do. Maybe she'd cancel all her plans, close the garage and sleep in for a change.

A second after this thought passed through her mind, her ears picked up the sound of footsteps outside her bedroom door, followed by someone knocking. "You awake, Sweetheart?"

Was that a sign of manners? He usually just barged in. "More or less," she responded, as she gingerly rolled onto her stiff back and sat up.

"You decent?" Vinnie asked, his voice playful.

Charley rolled her eyes. "Yes, Vincent."

She had been exhausted when she dragged herself in last night, but she'd still remembered to put on a modest t-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants. Drop into bed in a skimpy nightie or only her underwear with those three around? No thank you.

Apparently taking her comment about her state of dress as an invitation, the white-furred mouse suddenly pushed her bedroom door open and breezed in. "Thought you might be extra hungry after all that fun we had last night," he said, sounding pleased with himself.

Charley blinked in surprise; in his hands was a breakfast tray covered in plates of food, plus a steaming cup of coffee. She hastily sat up straighter as he swept over and deposited the tray on her lap. "I wasn't sure what you'd want," he went on, "so I made a little of everything. Toast, waffles, bacon and eggs, pancakes - oh, and no peas."

Charley, who had been taking a cautious sniff, turned her head and looked at him strangely. "Uh, no kidding? Nobody serves peas for breakfast."

Vinnie was snickering, and he wiggled his eyebrows like she was missing some obvious joke. "Especially not for your breakfast, Charley-girl. And definitely not for breakfast in bed, 'cause, you know, one of them might roll under the mattress. Then you'd never get any sleep."

Charley continued to look at him blankly...but then it dawned on her. She pressed a hand to her forehead and lowered her chin, like she was exasperated with him, but the pleased-sounding chuckle he gave as he left the room told her that he hadn't failed to spot the bloom of heat in her cheeks she'd been trying to hide.

When he was gone, she moved her hand and looked at the tray, noting how runny the eggs were and how burnt the toast was...yet for some reason all she could do was smile.