Dreams

It had been a crazy day. Jazz and I had left Sam's house before dawn, just to get away and drive. There hadn't been much time for us to just go before now. Today, however, there were no plans, no where to be and nothing but nothing to do. So, we did the only thing we could think of. Race. It had been fun, tearing down the long and mostly empty freeways, each of us keeping mere millimeters off the others bumpers or fenders. I know he knew what that does to me, he knows I love having him that close. Alas, our racing was cut short quite quickly when a set of "blue lights", to use Sam's usual term for the local law enforcement, soon started attempting to follow us.

I felt my fuel tank sink, knowing we were in some deep trouble when Optimus found out about this. Jazz, however, seemed to have other ideas. He floored his accelerator and shot on ahead, blinking his flashers at me once.

"Jazz! Prime is going to kill us and Ratchet will hand us our bolts afterwards! What are you doing?" I sent, as incredulous as I could, through our interpersonal radios.

My radio fired up as Jazz took over it, speakers blaring the lyrics to "Fuck tha Police".

I scanned back, finding the cop car still a three quarters of a mile behind us, valiantly trying to catch up enough to get our tag numbers. Jazz had slowed down, rear panel nearly touching the tip of my front fender.

"Come and get me, Bee." Jazz said before putting more distance between us again.

Oh, we were -so- in for it later.

The damage had been done, however, and I could only do what he'd asked of me. I have never been able to figure out how he does it, really. He can make me do anything he wants with the subtlest change in his voice and he's done it many times before. So, true to form, I chased him, completely and instantly ignoring the rather irate highway patrolman who was trying to pull us over.

We ended up making a rather hasty exit from the highway, taking an old 'deer trail' into the woods. The problem, however, was that we had to transform on the side of the interstate to make the break into the cover of the trees. We ducked around trees and limbs, trying to put distance between us and the pavement. I heard the cop siren wail as it passed the spot where we'd gone off road and felt myself relax. Jazz, who stopped when the siren moved on as well, simply chuckled at me and fled into the trees again. Again, I followed, albeit a bit more reserved than when I chased him down the road.

The trees thinned out considerably, revealing a small and yet shielded clearing. Jazz stood atop a small hill, leaning his frame against one of the few trees that adorned the field. I stopped a few feet from him, arms crossed.

"You know we're in it deep when Prime finds out about that, right?"

He merely gave a shrug and pushed himself away from the tree, heading down the hill. I came up behind him and placed a hand on his arm.

"Jazz --"

In less time than it took me to process the possibility of the action, Jazz had my arm locked beneath his. His own forearm was placed against my shoulder, keeping it immobile. It didn't hurt or anything, just shocked me.

"So?" he said. He had this mischievous look in his optics that I hadn't seen in a long time.

I recognized that look, I knew it all too well. Jazz wanted to play.

I gave a chuckle of my own and reversed the hold in almost as little time as it had taken him to apply it. A smile formed on his face, he seemed very happy I'd figured his game out. We 'fought' for several minutes, taunting and tossing jabs at each other the whole time.

"You know," I started, ducking a punch in my direction, "if Sam gets another ticket in the mail," duck again, "his parents are going to be furious."

"Yeah?" he'd asked as he lunged at me for a kick.

"Yeah. I'm supposed to be-" I had to pause long enough to block said kick before continuing, "his responsibility or something."

Jazz lunged then, arms wrapping around my midsection. I lost my balance and sent us both tumbling down the hill. When we'd landed, I found myself on the bottom, Jazz straddling my hips. He'd somehow managed to get one of my arms pinned to the ground above my head and was rather pleased with himself as he leaned down close to my audio.

"Sam can't have you…you're mine."

I trembled, violently. One sentence, one single sentence and he'd reduced me to a quivering mess. I forgot I was supposed to be scolding him for recklessness, forgot that we had run from the law, forgot the massive amounts of trouble we were in. Forgot it all. The only thing that my mind registered was that Jazz had very talented hands.

We'd left the clearing just a bit after dawn, carefully making our way back to the interstate. Jazz and I were both covered in pieces of the local flora and adorned with a fair share of grass stains. Of course, Jazz can't have his paint dirty and informed me that I owed him a wash to get rid of them. I was all too happy to agree. As soon as tires hit pavement, I took the lead.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"To get you cleaned up."

I heard the low growl from his engine and it gave me the idea to try…something. It's an idea that I've been wanting to try out for the longest time but never had the opportunity. Until now.

We started back down the highway, engaged in a game of tag, Jazz staying quite close up on my panels or bumper. Since there were more motorist on the road now we couldn't go all out on speed. My idea was easy to do, just focus the agitators embedded in my skin to a single point and fire. The reaction, however, was immediate. Jazz's engine surged to several thousand RPM's and his back end fishtailed for a couple of seconds. Quickly, since he's always quick to respond to driving, he'd corrected himself. Meanwhile, I'd moved to his side, giving off the most innocent appearance I could being in this form. He'd have been either glaring or shocked had he been in 'bot mode. Maybe a combo of both. But, for now, he seemed to let it go. I pulled up along side him and fired again. He actually surprised me a bit with a return pulse of his own. Granted, his magnetics weren't as strong in alt mode, they were never the less effective. Our new game continued for a few miles before we exited the highway.

We ended up turning off on an old dirt road, Jazz still following right behind me. I'd found this old place weeks ago. It had just about everything one would need for a place to just go to and relax. It was quiet, secluded and had more than enough room for a 'bot to move around. I'd managed to get some of the old mechanics working again and was very happy to note that the place had a working water heater, which, hopefully, would come in quite handy today. Jazz and I rolled into the vast, open interior. I quickly transformed and placed a hand on his roof.

"Stay that way."

I could feel a slight tremble in his skin but he didn't transform. The gears in my head were spinning with ideas. I knew he'd gotten worked up on the highway and I did my best to hide the fact that I wasn't taking it lightly myself. All I knew now was that I wanted to make him squirm as much here as he had me doing in that clearing. I let that be my resolution and attached the pulse nozzle to the waterline.

I'm not entirely clear on how we managed to make it back to the house under our own power. Under the more traditional means of attaining an overload, you'd be lucky to be non-mobile when you went offline. Granted, what we do could hardly be considered 'traditional', but then again, we've never been that way to start with. However, having two overloads in a relatively short amount of time is enough to drain even us.

Last thing I know I remember was being too tired to even transform and stretch out in the backyard. Vaguely, I recall Jazz backing into the spot next to me. He always did like to face the exit, regardless of form. We both fell offline as soon as we had parked outside of Sam's home.

It was the clearing for one moment, the mill the next. I could feel the warm pulse of the water and the movements of the grass as it moved in the breeze. It varied from me being held by a comforting weight to me being the holder. There was the grazing of a soft sponge and the heat from a solar pulse. Systems demanding more, pushing harder, the pressure buildup nearly painful. Magnetic fields caressing metal, hands teasing sensors. Voices giving encouragement. A playful game of tag and being chased by the cops. The exhilaration felt as speeds increased and systems overloaded.

I knew there was another with me. So near, so close. I could hear him but couldn't find him. There wasn't much to search, there was nothing else there. But I could feel him. There were emotions, thoughts, images that were not my own. Alien yet more familiar to me than anything else. I hear him again, a small laugh. Before I can face the direction of the sound, I hear it again from the opposite direction. It's a gentle, playful yet promising laughter that sends surges through me. I could feel a light stroke across my back, like a breeze of the wind. As soon as it was there it was gone. Another touch, this one across my shoulders and chest. Each feather-like movement sent a thrill through my frame. I wanted more. I tried to reach for him but each time he'd slip through my grasp. He was playing with me and I knew it. I'd missed games like this…we've not really had a chance to play since before landing on Earth.

The scenes changed. Gone was the feather-light touch, gone was the clearing and the mill. All that was left was carnage, the acrid smell of smoke and the sounds of photon charges being fired. The gentle warmth was replaced by a bitter cold, a haunting fear and of an inability to act. A resounding worry and a forceful anger. An obligation to protect those who could not protect themselves, and an absolute need to protect friends. A resolute knowledge that tomorrow was gone. But just as quickly as the visions had come, they vanished, leaving only an empty space behind. Leaving me alone.

The images startled me out of my recharge. The sun had long since settled below the horizon and the house was darkened. I could feel my fuel pump working harder than necessary. Part of it was the pleasure the dream had offered while the rest was the fear. A quick scan beside me revealed the other spot to be empty, Jazz had left. Quickly, I broadened my scans and felt myself relax only marginally when I detected him in the backyard. I didn't move then. My processors were going over that dream.

It's a strange experience, dreaming. I never really considered the minute memory flashes that sometimes occur during recharge stasis to be dreams. They aren't really. They're just bits of memory being processed and stored. This, however, this was much different. This was a combination of both of our minds. We'd never been able to link our minds without both of us being conscience of it before. This seemed to be amazingly similar to what the humans might call "lucid dreaming", only I wasn't the one in control. He'd act, I'd react, he'd act again, continuing the cycle. It was going pleasantly until I was struck with the last images. Something had triggered something in Jazz and he wasn't able to hold the images back.

I transformed and quietly made my way to the backyard. Jazz had sat down behind the rebuilt greenhouse, facing one of the fences, one clawed hand lightly tapping at a flower. It was the darkest place in the yard and it was obvious he wanted to hide but not to leave. His frame was slouched, visor down, as if he was analyzing the motions of the flower as it moved.

"Jazz?" I asked, quietly.

He didn't make any indication he heard me, just kept fingering the petals of the flora. I walked up behind him and knelt down, letting one arm fall over his shoulder and down across his chest while the other wrapped around his waist. He kept messing with the flower for a few moments more before relaxing and leaning back against me. I leaned my head sideways a bit until it rested against his.

"You okay?"

He just gives a non-committal sound in reply.

"Jazz-"

"It only happens sometimes. Not very often." he said, voice barely loud enough to hear.

I didn't say anything in reply. He'd been fighting off these 'nightmares' since he'd come back online. This is the first one I'd been "present" for. I just nuzzled his cheek, just to let him know I was there.

"I didn't think it'd actually work…" he said, earning him a questioning look from me.

"Your fuel pump. I can feel it. I didn't think the whole 'seduce 'Bee in a dream' idea would work." was his reply.

I chuckled then.

"Oh, it worked. That and you just have that kind of affect on me." I said, nudging his head with mine.

I felt more than saw the smile that formed on his face as he nuzzled me in return. His visor lifted and locked itself away and he placed one hand on each of my arms. I was content to just sit and be there with him so the rather pleasantly unexpected feeling of another mind touching mine surprised me a bit. It was shocking enough that my intakes took in an involuntary hiss. I was going to tell him we didn't have to, that it was -. He cut off my thought by sending a pulse into my arms.

"I don't wanna think about bad dreams, Bee." he said quietly before adding, "Besides, when have you -ever- known me to not finish what I start?"

I felt myself tremble as he sent another pulse through my arms while sending signals to other sensors through my processor.

"Well, there was that time in that asteroid belt…" I teased, tightening my grip around his frame.

"Hey, now…that wasn't my fault. I made it up later, didn't I?"

I gave him another chuckle.

"Yes, you did."

"Good." he said, shifting in my grip until he was facing me, "Now shut up and let me have my way with you."