As she began to stir the next morning, the mouse stretched her body under the covers, her legs shaking a little. As she relaxed with a sigh, her eyes opened. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, clearing her vision. Then it dawned on her. It was morning. Her eyes widened as she quickly sat up and pulled the covers off to look at herself. She was still wearing the dress she was the day before. She racked her brain, collecting her thoughts from the night before.
Last thing she remembered was sitting on the couch with him and then... She realized she must have dozed off. Then how did she get in bed? Then it hit her. Mickey must have carried her to the bed. Then her cheeks flushed. Did he... do anything to her while she was asleep? She didn't remember a thing since the night before. She must have really been out of it. Sure she was still wearing her clothes but he could have easily copped a feel while she was out. Would he take advantage of her like that? Her eye twitched. She flung off the covers, jumped out of bed and and marched out of the room and down the hall to his bedroom.
Mickey was sound asleep in his bed, snoring, with one arm hanging over the side of the bed while the covers lay tangled around his legs. "No, Ma... I only took... one cookie..."
WHAM!
His partially open bedroom door was kicked open, the sound jarring him from his slumber.
He looked around, and saw a blurry figure at the bottom of his bed. "...Five more minutes, Ma..." As his vision cleared he saw the form belonged to the Angel, and that her eyes were narrowed and her non-existent brow furrowed. He yawned. "Oh... Mornin'."
"What happened last night?"
He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. "Wuzzat?"
"What. Happened. Last night?" Her tone was more fierce this time around as her eyes were fixated directly on him. And right now, not in a way he would've liked.
Mickey leaned back against the headboard as he let one leg slide over the side of the bed. "Huh?" Everything went pretty much normally last night. After he carried her upstairs and tucked her in bed, he came back downstairs, ate some Cheetos while watching this weeks rerun of Les Mouserables, then brushed his teeth and hit the hay.
"What happened last night?!" she yelled, stomping her foot.
He winced. "Sheesh, I'm not deaf, y'know. I can hear ya just fine." He scratched his ear. "We were watchin' a movie and ya dozed off. Simple as zat."
She crossed her arms. "How did I get in the guest bed?"
"I carried ya in there," was his nonchalant reply as he shrugged. No big deal. He yawned again, then he smiled. "Ya were so cute lyin' there asleep I didn't wanna wake ya."
"Did you do anything to me?" Her tone was low but threatening.
He leaned his head back, a non existent brow lifting. "What makes ya think I'd do anything to ya?"
In a flash of white light her white pistol with the rose on the barrel materialized in her hand and she pointed it at him as she stepped closer to his side of the bed. "Did you do anything to me?!"
He held up his hands defensively as he laughed. "Whoa, easy there, angel food cake. Calm down before ya blow a hole between my ears."
She aimed the gun lower, between his legs. "Did you?!"
With the gun aimed lower, now the Reaper started to panic. Crap. "Hey, hey, watch it, Miss Master Chief! I may be able to heal myself but I can't grow those back, y'know! Sheesh." Note to self: Don't cheese her off unless you want a voice change. "No, I didn't do anything to you. I didn't touch ya. Ya dozed off so I picked ya up and carried ya into the guest room. Then I pulled the covers over ya, went back downstairs, watched a little TV, then came back up here and started reading War and Peace." He gave her a cheeky grin as he slid his other leg over the side of the bed and rested his hands on his thighs.
She titled her head. Was that a joke? War and Peace, ha ha. Was he referencing that to them right now? She lowered her weapon to beside her thigh. "You didn't touch me?"
He shook his head. "I know ya don't believe me but I didn't. I know ya think I'm a jerk, but I do have some morality, ya know." He rolled his eyes. "Jeez, you Angels really don't give us Reapers enough credit..." He reached over and picked up the big book on the bedside table and pulled the drawer open to put it back, when she noticed it. War and Peace.
"My goodness, you actually read that?" she asked, placing a hand on her hip, shifting her weight to one side.
"I can read, y'know." He put the book pack as he looked up to her. "I toldja I did. It doesn't have a lot of car chases but it's still good." He grinned, and she rolled her eyes.
"You're crazy."
He laughed. "Crazy? Nah. I just like to think I'm beyond the realm of sanity." He waved his hands slowly in front of him for a more dramatic effect.
"Alright. I'll believe you."
"Thank you," he said with a nod. "Next time, ya might wanna get some evidence before ya accuse me o' somethin'."
Her gun disappeared as she fidgeted a little uneasily, the guilt of accusing him of something as bad as she had weighing on her conscious. "Look, I'm... I'm sorry I pointed my gun at you..."
"And threatened to blow me into bits and accused me of touching ya in a way ya wouldn't like."
Okay, she really had racked up a number there. "I'm sorry, okay... I really am. I just..."
He waved his hand as he smiled. "Ah, don't worry about it. Yer fergiven."
He surprised her. She points a gun at him, accuses him of violating her, and he forgives her for it? True, she did have the safety on, but how could he forgive her so easily? Nonetheless, she was glad he'd forgiven her. Lest she have that hanging around her conscious. "Thank you."
He stood up and cracked his back. "Jus' try t' trust me a little more from now on. I'm not a complete jerk." He gave her a wink.
She gave a little smile. Then she realized that he was still wearing his clothes from last night as well. "Why didn't you change?"
"Hm?" He glanced down then back up with a chuckle. "Oh, I figured since ya were sleepin' in your clothes I would, too." He started making his bed. "And no, I don't normally sleep in my clothes. I just thought since you were, I would too."
She honestly didn't know what to make of him. Was he being honest or just being Mickey? Or was that both with him? She didn't know, and decided not to question it further. She didn't want a migraine.
Finished with his bed, he rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. "So... whataya want for breakfast? I can whip us up somethin' in a jiffy!"
"You can cook?" It was an honest question and she didn't mean for him to take it as an insult.
He rolled his eyes. "'Course I can cook. Whataya think I am?" He held up his hand. "Never mind. Pretty sure I don't wanna know..." She was about to say something in protest to that but he cut her off. "So how's about some pancakes?" Then his eyes seemed to light up as he snapped his fingers. "Ha ha! Ya haven't had pancakes until ya've had some a' mine!" He stepped past her, leaving the Angel feeling confused. She followed him downstairs where he started for the living room door. "Hang on, I'll go get the paper. I won't be long." He dashed outside to get the paper and returned in just a matter of seconds, walked into the into the kitchen where he laid the paper on the table and started to get everything ready.
"I appreciate the offer, but I can make my own breakfast," she told him. She was grateful for his offer, but she wasn't sure about him making breakfast for her.
He turned back to her, with what she assumed was an honest smile. "Yer my guest. Lemme fix ya somethin'. And no, I won't add fire and brimstone as a special ingredient," he added. "Tried it once. Waaay to salty, ha ha."
She stood off to the side, near the table with her arms crossed. Was he always making jokes like this? He certainly was... interesting in a sort of odd way. She found herself pondering him, wondering if he was ever serious about anything. Was he always like this, making jokes and acting goofy? Not that she was really against it, but she hoped that his attitude and way of doing things didn't get in the way of their job.
"Ya know yer really gonna have to learn t' trust me a little more. We're supposed to work together, right?" he said suddenly, snapping her from her thoughts.
He was right, dare she admit it. They did have to work together, so there was no reason not to try to at least see a little common ground and get along with him. But he was still a Reaper, so she would have to be careful.
"If it'll make ya feel any better, ya can watch me make breakfast. Howsat?"
"You really don't have to do that," she told him. "I appreciate the offer but I don't want you going through the trouble."
He turned back, giving her a wide grin. "You kiddin'? It's no trouble at all. 'Sides, it's not often I get to make breakfast fer an angel. Just sit there and it'll be ready in a bit. Do you want some coffee?"
She pulled a chair out and sat down, and watched him prepare their breakfast. "No thanks."
He nodded. "Eh, it stains yer teeth anyway. I got some soda if you want some of that."
"I don't want to take your food."
He laughed. "Doll, yer my guest, and I won't offer t' just anyone."
A part of her felt flattered. But why was she any different than anyone else? "Oh... Well, thank you."
He motioned his head toward the fridge. "Go on and getcha some. Take your pick."
She got up and walked over to the fridge. Opening the door, she was quite surprised to find everything seemed rather organized. She half expected everything to strewn about, but it wasn't at all like that. Everything seemed rather neatly placed. She found the soda bottles, got one and closed the door and walked back over to sit down at the table.
In no time, he put the pancakes onto two plates and placed her plate in front of her. She had to admit, the pancakes smelled scrumptious.
He set a bottle of syrup down on the table in the center. "Want some butter?"
She shook her head. "No thank you."
He shrugged and sat down, and looked at her, waiting for her to take a bite.
She got the bottle, poured some syrup over her pancakes, then it set it down. As she picked up her fork, she couldn't deny the rumble she felt in her stomach. She was getting rather hungry. She pulled a small piece of the pancake off and held it up. Casting a glance across the table at her "cook", she saw him watching her with a wide grin. Welp... Here goes... She placed the bite in her mouth.
The flavor exploded in her mouth as her eyes widened, her freezing on the spot. She had no idea he could make something so delicious. "Wow, they are good!"
He leaned back with a laugh. "Ha ha! I toldja!"
She eagerly took another bite. "These are delicious!"
He chuckled. "Gladja like 'em. And see, they don't taste like ashes."
She swallowed the bite and gave him a grin. "I didn't say they would."
"No, butcha thought it."
He was right on that. "I'm sorry I misjudged your cooking," she said earnestly. "Heh, I'm glad I was wrong." She took another bite.
"Wait till you taste my homemade cheese fondue," he said, giving her a wink.
She looked at him, her interest now piqued. If that was as good as his pancakes she would have to get the recipe. As she thought about their task, she swallowed the bite she had in her mouth. "So why do you think there's suddenly more evil spirits appearing?"
Nothing. He seemed too preoccupied with the newspaper, flipping through one page after another.
She quirked a brow. "What are you doing?"
Another page, then another. "Tryin' to find-ah ha! Found it!" He laid the rest of the paper on the table as he leaned back, holding up the section he was looking for. The comic section.
She quirked a brow again as she gawked. "Really? That's what you were looking for?"
He looked up over top of the paper. "Hey, these are timeless comics, y'know?" He glanced back down and let out a laugh.
She let out a huff. "There's evil spirits running around and all you're worried about are the comics?"
He calmly took a sip of his soda and set it back down. "Angel cakes, chill. Ya need t' relax before ya herniate yer halo."
Her eye twitched. "Relax? We're supposed to do a job, y'know! Figuring out what's up with the sudden evil spirits appearing in places they never were before, ring any bells?"
"Yeah, I get that, but why worry about it?" He sat up straighter and leaned a little over the table. "Look, whatever's goin' on, we'll figure it out. We don't need to spend every second ponderin' on it. We've got a job t' do and we'll do it. But right now, it's time t' eat." He nodded with a grin, and leaned back, letting out another chuckle as he looked back to the comics page.
She was going to say something else, but then decided not to. She obviously couldn't reason with that hard head of his. With a sigh she took another bite of her pancakes. Then she stopped, and looked down at them. He'd went through the trouble to make them, and they were pretty gosh darn delicious. So why not enjoy them? She took another bite. Oh, well. When in Rome...
"Yes!" he suddenly shouted, making her jump slightly in her seat. "Ha ha! Car show this Saturday, hot dog!" He made a fist pump.
"Car show?" She titled her head.
He looked around the paper, grinning. "Don't tell me ya don't what a car show is."
She rolled her eyes. "Of course I know what a car show is. I mean what's the hype?"
He glanced back to the paper. "The hype is that it's a car show, an' I get t' enter ol' Chrys out there in it." He motioned a thumb over his shoulder toward the garage.
She quirked a brow. "You mean your car?"
"Yep. He's been eager to go to another show. Just gotta get 'im washed and waxed before it."
Evil spirits running around and he's worried about a car show. Yep, he was bonkers. Wonderful. And she had to work with him. Great. Just peachy. "I didn't know you entered shows."
"I try to enter 'em when I can. They're usually a lot of fun. Hopefully I can this Saturday." He glanced around the paper. "You can come along if ya'd like."
She thought the idea of fighting evil spirits would be more important to him, but as she already knew, she couldn't reason with him. "We'll see."
"I'm holdin' ya t' that," he said.
Somehow, she knew he would.
After Minnie had finished her pancakes she stood up and stepped over to the sink, ready to place them in it. "Thank you for breakfast, Mickey. I really appreciate it." As she reached for the knob, the Reaper spoke.
"I'll wash those."
She turned behind her, seeing him still looking through the paper. "You made breakfast for me."
He folded the paper. "So? I can wash th' dishes, too." He stood up and walked over to the sink. He rolled up the paper and tapped her rear end gently with it. "Scoot."
She squeaked, her face turning crimson as he stepped up along side her and started washing the dishes. "Tap my rear again and I'll tie your tail in a knot."
He chuckled, a nervous sweat drop running down his head. "Alright, sorry. Sheesh."
"I'm gonna go change. Do not follow me," she warned, and turned to exit the kitchen.
"Ya gave me th' ideeeaa!" he sang to her.
"Shut uuup!" she sang back as she started up the stairs.
As he listened for her footsteps to disappear, he grinned as he turned back to the dishes. "She's a feisty one."
Upstairs, Minnie muttered to herself as she changed out of the clothes she wore the day before. "Of all the people I have to work with, why does it have to be the perverted, reckless one?" She sighed as she stopped, allowing herself to be honest for a moment. "Okay, he is cute... And he does seem kind of sweet sometimes, but..." She sat down on the bed, having finished getting dressed. She shook her head. "No, no, no, get a hold of yourself, Minnie! You've got a job to do. Besides, he's a Reaper, a demon. You're an Angel. You can't let yourself get involved." Then she thought of the prospect of being with him. "A forbidden love... It would be romantic, but..." She shook her head, tapping her fist against her forehead. "No, no! You can't think about that sorta thing! You've got a job to do. Just work with him, finish the job, then get back to Heaven." She lifted her head, looking out the window. "But I suppose I could give him a chance to at least prove himself..."
Knock knock!
"Hey, I'm heading out to the garage. If ya need somethin' ya know where t' find me."
It kind of surprised her that he actually didn't just open the door, and had the decency to let her have her privacy. She heard him go down the stairs and then silence. With a sigh, she brought up her wrist and activated her watch. She pressed a few buttons and before her a hologram lit up. She knew what she was looking for and found it immediately. It was Mickey's file.
Micheal (Mickey) Mouse.
Resides: Earth. 1128 Quack Street. Colten, Calisota.
Reaper class 1. Subdivision: Grim Hunter.
Objective: Tasked with tracking down and annihilating rouge spirits. Excessive force is authorized upon contact. Spirits of good nature and mortals are not to be harmed.
That was all the file read, save for a picture of him. From what she was told, he was the best there was. And from what she had seen, he was good, but he jumped right in and didn't take a moment to think or plan things out. He just did it, acting on his own. He'd obviously been a freelancer for so long it come natural to him. He certainly wasn't like what she expected of a Reaper, however. She expected him to be all dark, business, serious, and doing exactly as he had to to get a job done. But not him. He was goofy, acting like nothing bothered him, drove around in a gold Chrysler Imperial and although he did get the job done, went about it in a manner that would normally get someone jumped onto for it. Could they even work together? Their styles were very different from each other's, and then there was the obvious fact: she was an Angel and he was a Reaper.
Before she could ponder it any longer, the watch on her wrist buzzed, getting her attention. She lifted her hand and pressed a button. "Minnie, here."
"We're receiving spectral activity in your area," Ortensia said on the other end. "I'm sending you the location. Is the Reaper there with you?"
Minnie nodded. "Yes, he's here."
"All right. You two head to the location."
"We're on our way."
Communication was broke off and Minnie quickly stood up and sprinted for the door. In her haste, she flung the door open and found herself face to face, or rather, nose to nose, with the Reaper, nearly bumping into him. The two just stood there, awkwardly, their muzzles light red.
"I, uh... We're needed... somwhere..." he said.
"Hm? Oh. Right." She pulled away from him and he stepped over, allowing her to pass. She started sprinting down the stairs with him in tow. "I was coming to get you."
"I know," he said as they entered the living room. "Ghost activity. I was comin' t' get you."
At least he could take things seriously when he wanted to. As the two made their way into the garage, Minnie sprinted around to the right side of the Imperial as Mickey got inside and fired it up. She buckled up as she checked her watch for the sent coordinates.
"Here's the location." She held her watch up, letting him see.
He buckled his seat belt as he examined the location. "Right. I know that place. The old apartment building. Can't imagine why a ghost would be turnin' up now? Haven't seen anything from that place in a long time." He kept his foot on the gas with little pressure, letting the engine idle.
She checked her watch, bringing up the hologram. "Nobody has passed away in that place in the past three years. Why would a spirit show up there now?"
He gave a tilt of his head. "Dunno. But we're gonna find out." He eased off the gas and pressed a button on his watch, making the garage door open. He pulled the Imperial out of the garage, pressed the button to close it, then pulled onto the main road. "Hang on t' yer tail, little lady."
"Whoa!" she yelped as he accelerated down the road.
The mice knew that spirits usually haunt places of their death. So why would a ghost show up in a place it hadn't lived in its former life?
To be continued...
