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The First Haircut

inuficcrzy - posted on 24 Jul 2010 @ 8:38am

I always wondered who trims Throttle's hair, and this was my answer. Charley, the lucky girl...Part of my 'The First' series at fanfiction dot net.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mice, Charley, or those lucky scissors.

The First: Haircut

Throttle growled to himself as he pulled off his helmet, wincing as strands of his mane caught on a strap. With a sharp yank, he pulled it loose, taking most of the tangled hair with it. He sighed, glad to finally get to the garage.

It was ten o'clock at night, his bros at the scoreboard to catch the latest football game. If Vinnie caught word that he needed help with his mane, he would have never heard the end of it, thus the late run. He had come over wondering if he could borrow a set of Charley's scissors to just cut the blasted stuff off. He came up off his bike, walking towards the soft sounds of the kitchen.

Charley was still awake, too wound up from working on her latest project. The remains of a small dinner was off to one side of the table, the rest of the surface covered with sketches and figures for her design. She was sitting with her hair disheveled and twisted up with a clip, a pencil tucked behind her ear and a frown on her face.

"Am I interrupting?" he said softly from the doorway.

She startled a bit before smiling broadly. "Throttle! What brings you here so late?"

"Just needing to borrow a pair of scissors," he said. He gestured to his tangled hair. "This is getting on my nerves. I can't believe how fast my mane grows on this planet."

"You're going to cut your hair?" she asked.

He frowned slightly at her unhappy tone. "Its getting too long, and it keeps getting caught on my helmet," he explained. "I normally don't let it grow out past a couple of inches."

"And you're going to cut it yourself?"

"Who else?"

She shook her head at him. "Oh, no," she said. "Don't you dare cut that stuff yourself. Sit right here," she motioned to the chair as she stood from the table. "I'll go get a few things, and I'll take care of it."

"You don't have to, I can get it myself. You might not believe this, but I've been doing it for years," he said.

"And now you don't have to," she said with a smile as she walked out of the room. She was back in a few minutes with scissors, a comb, a towel, shampoo, and another bottle that he hadn't seen before. "Um, Charley? What's all this for?"

"Your haircut," she said matter-of-factly. "A full wash, rinse, and style."

"All that? For a haircut?" he said in disbelief.

"No, for a proper haircut," she insisted. "Your hair is too pretty to just hack it off."

He gave her a look. "A guy's hair is not pretty, Charley."

"Ok, its beautiful, now will you stop fussing, get your glasses off, and get over here?" She had him stand and lean over the sink and wet his hair down. But when he reached for the shampoo, she shook her head. "Nope, I said this is gonna be a proper haircut, and that means I take care of everything. So just relax and let me do my stuff," she insisted. She poured a small amount in her palm and began to lather it in his hair. It had a very light scent, like apples. He gasped a bit as her fingers began to rub against his scalp, almost like a massage.

She immediately stopped at his gasp, "Did I get soap in your eyes?"

"No, it-that just felt good," he said.

"Oh", she said, very grateful that he couldn't see her blush. 'Didn't mean to start rubbing on him,' she thought. The blush intensified as she replayed that thought to herself. 'Good lord, when did I get such a dirty mind? Suppose it has nothing to do with the fact that three of the finest male bodies on Earth or Mars make a constant trip to my house. Nope, nothing to do with that at all.'

She worked carefully around his antennae, almost afraid to touch them. Anything capable of helping the psychic mouse read her mind was probably incredibly sensitive. She took the opportunity to study them a bit, without seeming rude for staring. They were five inches long and about the thickness of her middle finger, curving back slightly from his forehead. The skin, (no fur here), was a light red and looked soft to the touch. She wondered if he would mind it if she touched them. 'Probably,' she thought to herself.

She finished shampooing and carefully rinsed, mindful of getting too much water in his ears. The girl held him still when he moved to get up, telling him that she had one last bit to do and then they were done. She brought out the conditioner, working a larger bit into his hair than she would normally use on herself. Those tangles looked nasty, so she'd need all the help she could get to comb them out. A quick rinse later and he was toweling the water out of his freshly scrubbed hair.

"Now what?" he asked, figuring this was her show and he was just along for the ride.

"Now sit," she said with a laugh, "and I'll start combing all this out."

He couldn't help his flinch when she said that. Carbine used to comb his hair back on Mars, and normally took a good chunk of it out by the time she was done. But Charley was willing to go to so much trouble, he supposed he could suck it up this once and go buy a pair of scissors later. She stood behind him and lifted up the comb, and he waited for the pulling to start. He felt the barest tug as she started from the ends, taking hold of any stubborn snarls to lessen the pull. She carefully worked at each tangle, not wanting to rip the hair and make everything go uneven. And she was especially careful around his ears. Scraping against her own human ears hurt like hell. How much worse would it be on his Martian ears? She didn't want to find out.

Throttle was genuinely surprised at how she was doing this. Her motions were slow and gentle, her fingers running through his hair like she was touching something precious. She was treating him like he was made of glass, and no one had ever done that before. (What surprised him even more was that he kind of liked it.)

She kept combing until his hair was slightly dry, loving the feel of it running between her fingers. It was a deep tan color, putting her in mind of thick caramel. Caramel silk that came down till it just touched his shoulders. Oh, yum.

With great reluctance, she picked up the scissors. "So how much do you want off?"

"About three inches," he said in sleepy voice. Her combing his hair had nearly put him to sleep, she kept her touch so gentle.

"So much?"

"I normally keep it shorter than that," he said.

"Okay," she replied. The scissors began to move, snipping and trimming that beautiful hair. She cut a slight edge, the back slightly shorter than the top. 'Oh, this had to be some kind of a crime,' she thought to herself. 'His hair is too pretty to cut, no matter what he says.' She finger-combed a stubborn lock into submission by his ear and began to trim it. He shivered suddenly, and she instantly stilled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, "just felt the metal near my ears."

"I'm sorry," she said contritely. "I'll be more careful." She slowly continued to snip away.

Throttle felt like a heel for making her apologize for no reason, but he couldn't tell her the truth. The mouse could feel her breath against the super-sensitive fur of his ears and neck, a soft warmth that sent messages to very inappropriate parts of his body. He tried ignoring it, after all, it was just because he hadn't been this close to a pretty girl in almost five years. Right?

But then her fingers had brushed against the edge of his ear, sending a dangerous warmth through his body and making him shiver. He brought up several memories of fighting beside Carbine, holding her on their first date, the feel of her kiss-okay, not the best things to be thinking of when trying to calm his body down.

Charley smiled at the sight of her work. "Almost done," she said cheerfully. "Do you want me to try my hand at trimming your bangs?"

"What's with this 'try' business?" he said in mock nervousness. He found himself smiling back at her happy look. "Sure thing, babe. But just a trim, okay? I think I want to let them grow out so I can pull it back later."

"You got it," she said, moving to his front and very carefully combing out the hair that formed his bangs. He closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the suddenly very tempting body right in front of him. 'I've been without Carbine for way too long,' he thought. 'This is a human female, she wouldn't be interested in a Martian. Although, with the way she and Vinnie have been flirting lately'--all thought was suddenly driven right out of his head.

She had barely brushed the back of one finger against his antennae. The result was a sudden rush of sensation throughout his body. He froze in place, unable to process any thought other than 'wow, that feels nice.' It was starting to take effort to keep his breathing steady.

Charley brushed the soft bangs back away from his face, a triumphant grin forming as she finished. "You're all done! Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I'll wait until I see it, babe," he said as he walked over to the small mirror hanging in the hall. He smiled, "It looks great, Charley-babe. Thanks."

"Just glad I could help."

"So what do I owe you?"

She laughed, "Just promise me you'll never cut your own hair again and we're square."

"Deal," he said. As she walked back to the kitchen to sweep up the hair that had fallen to the floor, he discreetly adjusted his now very tight jeans.

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XD Well wrote! ^_^