Here we are at last. The final part. Please enjoy and thank you all so much for your support.

Part 7: Always

"See? This is your hand grip, and these are your headlights, and over here is your throttle cable - no, not that Throttle - oh, and these are your side mirrors, so you can check out what a stud you are, and down here is your brake medal, air filter, and exhaust pipe. Got it?"

The white mouse looked up at his grandson, who was perched on his shoulder as the two of them went over the basics of Granddad's bike. Ratchet was busy looking somewhere else; Vinnie gave one of his floppy ears a playful tug. "Hey, you listening?"

"Gah?"

"Good. Don't forget anything."

It was a sunny afternoon and the entire family - extended members from Malteria and all - were hanging out at the big park downtown. Vector was relaxing on a picnic blanket with his wife, though his attention was on Dad and Ratchet. "Don't except too much," he called, "he's only six months old."

"It's never too soon to start teaching this stuff," Dad retorted. "You had all this mastered by the time you were three."

Vector had a rush of memory - images from many a fun night spent combing through bike parts and boxes of tools, just him and Dad - and felt a jealous pang. It ought to be him teaching the basics to his son...but he could always take over later, so he let Granddad have his fun and settled back on the cotton blanket, his wife lazily reclining at his side. Most of the other couples present were doing something similar, while the kids were all on their feet, throwing frisbees, playing tag, or running off to find a good spot to play hide-n-seek. Vector marveled at their endless supply of energy - the kind of energy he used to have, and not all that long ago. But that energy had mysteriously disappeared right after he became a daddy.

He wasn't the only one in exhausting daddy mode; Horex was five now and refused to hold still for a second, which meant Modo was constantly out of breath from trying to keep up with him. "You've had enough," the big gray mouse scolded as his hyper son stuck his nose in one of the picnic baskets present.

"Nuh-uh," Horex sassed. "You can never have 'nough food. Food is the best thing ever!"

"Even better than bikes?" questioned his dad, panting as he tried to snag the chubby sand raider, who was busy darting around and poking his nose in the rest of the baskets.

"Yup! Bikes are cool but you can't eat 'em."

"But - but - but bikes!" his flustered dad sputtered. "Bikes are the center of life, the universe, and everything!"

Horex merely gave his adopted father a funny look before half-diving into a large basket.

"He's bound to have his own interests," Ashlin pointed out mildly.

"I wanna bike," Horex piped up, as he settled down happily with a sub sandwich. "An' I wanna res'rant. I'm gonna be a chef!"

Modo delightedly latched onto the first part of this proclamation, and the two of them chattered away about which bike model suited the future rider best. Modo hinted that he should get a cruiser, like his own bike...Horex was more interested in which model would carry the most grub.

"What about you?" asked Throttle, picking up the typically silent Thea and setting her on his lap. "Would you like a bike when you're older, too?"

Thea merely shrugged, apparently content just to be cuddled by her father. On a nearby blanket placed under a tree, Saber's parents were leaning back against the thick trunk together and lazily watching the day's activities. Poison drifted his gaze over the happy father and daughter before shifting his lone yellow eye to his wife, one eyebrow arched. Carbine stiffened with a scowl. "I don't care how many times you look at me like that, the answer is still no."

Snickering, Dad came over and joined them, taking a seat next to his son and daughter-in-law before swinging Ratchet down from his shoulder. "How 'bout you two?" he asked with a sly grin. "I can always use another grand kid or two...dozen."

Mom, who was sitting on the grass a few feet away from them, looked up from the book she'd been reading and eyed them with an expression more serious than her husband's. "I've been kind of wondering about that, too," she said, her soft tone hinting that she had another reason for wanting to know other than needing more grand kids to spoil.

Vector cleared his throat uncomfortably; Chloe placed a sympathetic hand on his arm. "Well," he began, shifting a little, "Chloe and I talked about it, and...well, we decided one is enough, so I'll be getting that operation Throttle got a while back."

"When?" asked his dad.

Vector shifted again. "Soon," he said vaguely.

Whenever he built up the courage.

Dad looked a little disappointed and scooped up Ratchet again before running over to where the other kids were playing, but Mom merely gave a nod of understanding before quietly going back to her book. As much as she loved Ratchet and wouldn't mind having another dozen or so like him running around, she knew the risks involved and wordlessly respected their decision.

No doubt she knew that coming to such a decision had been hard despite the risks, and that realizing he'd never have another child with his wonderful wife made him a lot more disappointed and sad than Dad was right now. And he knew everyone else would understand, too. Vector was glad he had such a supportive family.

The lazy day wore on and the kids started to tucker out, and Chloe sat up as Ratchet started making the fussy sounds he always made when he was getting tired and wanted his mommy. A short moment later Dad was reluctantly handing the sleepy baby to her; Ratchet yawned and laid his head on her shoulder. Smiling, Vector scooted closer. "Hey," he said, stroking his son's downy ears, "did you miss your Dada? You can say that, right? Dada?"

His light-furred son merely blinked at him, his large eyes closely watching his mouth as he talked. Ratchet made plenty of small sounds, but he hadn't formed an actual word yet. Chloe smiled and bounced him gently. "He'll figure it out," she said confidently.

Vector looked over at his mother. "Did I have trouble learning how to talk?" he wondered - making her burst out laughing, just as he'd planned to.

She cleared her throat. "Sorry."

Snickering, Vector gently took Ratchet and cradled him in his arms. "Dada," he whispered in one of his floppy ears.

Ratchet merely yawned again and closed his eyes. As he rocked his drowsy son to sleep, Vector felt someone watching him; a quick look over told him that Poison was studying the two of them intently. He didn't say a word, and he didn't need to. The sly look on his face and the way he displayed his index finger to his wife said it all.

"Get out of here," Carbine growled.

Undaunted, Poison let out a whistle as he lumbered to his feet; an impressive rumble that made Ratchet fidget in his sleep sounded in the near distance. Vector felt a hint of pride; that bike would never have gotten such an awesome upgrade if it weren't for him.

Almost like a row of dominoes in reverse, seeing Poison hop up and run to his bike inspired the rest of the bike-riding rodents in the vicinity to do the same - along with some of the non-rodents, too. Before long the picnic area was empty, leaving Vector to stare after the direction everyone had gone with obvious longing. Chloe wordlessly took Ratchet back and got up to sit next to her mother-in-law. "Thanks, Chlo-bug," Vector called with a grin.

He'd take her on one of their private rides later, but for now he hurried to catch up with the others. As soon as Red Ebony fell in pace with his dad's bike, he knew something was up; instead of riding with Throttle, Tamerin was on her own bike and keeping pace alongside her brother.

"What's the plan?" Vector asked eagerly. "Are we getting ready to race?"

"Nah, too basic," said Dad. "We're planning out a killer obstacle course."

"Losers gotta buy the winners root beer at Slingshot's afterward," Modo added with a grin.

"We splitting into teams?"

"Looks like pairs," Dad noted, as his two best buds suddenly shot ahead together. "Guess that means you're with me, squirt."

"I'll suffer through, somehow," Vector sighed...though he was actually thrilled. And he couldn't wait to do stuff like this with Ratchet someday.

This is it, he thought, watching the landscape looming before them as they headed to the outskirts of the city and beyond. Horizon in the distance, riding fast and free, his loved ones surrounding him and ready to start a wild competition.

You couldn't ask for a better life.

~fin~

Many thanks again to all of you for supporting and encouraging me throughout this series. I hope you enjoyed this long ride, and while I don't have any new ideas for our favorite bros at the moment, you never know when the ol' biker muse will start itching to ride again. Thank you and take care!