FAMILY LIFE
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any way, shape or form, and make no profit from these little stories.
Author's note: Not sure how long this story will go on, it's basically just going to be a collection of little one-shots about whatever weird ideas come to mind.
Chapter 1 - Practicality
Man, whatever happened to Sundays being a day of rest? Lennox thought miserably as he loaded the rest of the groceries into the back of the truck. Two hours, two hours, of being bumped into by fellow shoppers, having to wait patiently while some indecisive old couple block an entire aisle and then stand there trying to figure out what they wanted. A kid had been throwing a tantrum over in the candy aisle, her piercing screams making have of the shoppers cringe… he would never let his little girl act like that. And then there was the long wait in line… heck, it was so busy at the checkouts that it was hard to tell where the end of a line actually was. And then the guy on the cell phone in front of him, talking way to loudly and sharing way too much information with his buddy, and everyone else within earshot, about this girl he had gotten together with the night before.
Who would have thought that the local supermarket would have been so busy and maddeningly frustrating at 1 pm on a Sunday? Thankfully, Annabelle had been a real little trooper, taking things in stride and keeping herself entertained with her stuffed bear. She did start to kick up a bit of a fuss when they were in line, but Sarah got her calmed down quite quickly.
William stretched his arms and back before opening the truck door and settling inside. Sarah had already strapped Annabelle into her car seat and had just strapped on her seatbelt. "You're sure that everything's secure back there?" she asked him. He just sighed and closed his eyes. Not this again, not now, he begged silently.
"Of course, dear. All the light things are in the storage container in the back so they don't blow out, heavy things are strapped down. Unless this truck flips, nothing's going anywhere." Hopefully, that would be the end of this conversation.
"Alright, that's good," his wife nodded. Resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief, William put the truck in gear and started to make his way out of the parking lot. The silence only lasted for two minutes. "It was very nice of the army to let you use this truck," she started again, "but I don't know, Will. Don't you think it's time we got ourselves another vehicle?"
And it starts… maybe I can act dumb. I'm good at that sometimes. So he replied "Yeah, we have had your little Honda for quite a few years now. Maybe we should get something to replace it… another little zippy car?"
Sarah looked at him and rolled her eyes. "You know I meant replace the truck, Will. Well, it's not even our truck, is it? We would just let the army have it back and get something that we want. Something more practical, and with more room for when we have more kids."
"Fine, that's a fair point," he conceded, "but for right now, it's just us three. When we have another baby, we can easily fit another car seat into the back. It's not like we're going to start having a whole brood right away. We have at least a few more years before we have to think about getting a mini-van."
"True, we don't have to worry yet. But what about the gas prices these days? It's getting more expensive just to fill up on gas, never mind how much more groceries and everything costs. You can't tell me it wouldn't be a lot cheaper, in the long run, to get a hybrid vehicle of some sort?"
If only you knew, William thought. "Look, this truck really isn't as bad on gas as you think, honey. It's really the top of it's class for fuel efficiency."
"Fine, how much do you spend a week on gas?" she challenged him. Oh, god, he had to think on the spot.
"Look, I don't really pay attention. Honestly, I really haven't had to fill up often." Or at all, but there was no way of telling her that without spilling the beans. "When I'm on base, sometimes the other guys use this truck."
"So you really don't have a clue how 'fuel efficient' this thing really is."
"Aw, come on," he complained, trying to diffuse the situation. "The truck is great. It's better than great, it's the best vehicle I've ever driven. Trust me, we'll never be able to buy something half as dependable." He gave the steering wheel a reassuring pat, hoping to convey the message that he didn't share Sarah's misgivings about the vehicle. "Besides, you're not giving him a fair chance… you've never liked trucks, honey."
Whoops, that little slip of the tongue had earned him a weird look with an arched eyebrow. "What do you mean 'him'? Have you picked out a name for 'him', too?" As she smirked at him, Will decided he wasn't going to dignify that with a response. "And, no, I don't like trucks, but we always had a lot of problems with our truck when I was growing up. It was unreliable and impractical but my dad just refused to let it go. Now that I'm an adult, I don't want to have to fight with a vehicle that isn't suited to our lifestyle."
"Ahah! So you admit it," the man gloated. "You admit that you're biased. Racist, if you will!"
Now it was his wife's turn to roll her eyes. "Racist? Will, this is a truck we're talking about. Really, you can be so strange sometimes."
"Yes, yes this is a truck we're talking about. And you, ma'am, are a racist. This is vehicular racism, and I will not tolerate it. End of discussion!" he said with a grin. Hopefully, if he could not win the argument, at least he could distract her from it until they got home and could discuss things in private. Just a left turn at the stoplight, a right down a side street, and he'd be home free.
"Oh, really, Will," she said with a laugh. "I don't get why you're so defensive about this truck. Why don't you just marry it already?" Suddenly, the truck stopped much too sharply at the red light. "What was that?" she turned to him with her eyes wide.
"Sorry, my bad," he lied quickly. "What, you had me distracted! Talking about unholy unions between man and truck. Honestly, woman, have you no sense of decency?" he teased her.
"You have an unholy obsession with this truck. Honestly!" She turned to look back at Annabelle, making sure that the sudden stop hadn't scared the child. "Oh, no, she fell asleep. Now she'll be out for hours and up until late." Will grinned and peered in his rear view mirror, getting a glimpse of his precious girl.
"Well, at least one of my ladies trusts my truck." Finally, he thought as he drove up to their house.
Sarah rolled her eyes again. "Fine, I won't get between a man and his truck."
"That's right. And I think you owe somebody an apology," Will stated as he parked in their driveway. As he started to unbuckle his seatbelt, his wife shot him an impish grin that he loved so much.
"Yes, you're absolutely right." She patted the dashboard affectionately, and then leaned forward and actually gave it a kiss. "I'm sorry, dear truck. I completely respect the relationship you have with my husband."
"Hey, hey, hey. I meant me. And while I respect your newfound respect for him, that doesn't mean the two of you are allowed to start something behind my back. Or in front of my face for that matter." They continued their affectionate banter as Sarah unbuckled Annabelle from the car seat, and as they worked together to unload groceries and put them away.
"Oh," Sarah stated as she searched through the remaining bags. "Where's the flour?" Will returned her expectant gaze with a blank stare.
"Flour?" he asked dubiously. "We were supposed to get flour?"
"Yes. I'm making some desserts for Lisa's daughter's wedding shower. I'm sure I put flour on the list. Actually, I'm pretty sure I remember you putting it in the cart for me." She scanned the grocery receipt closely.
"Oh, right… I kept fighting with the damned bag," Will remembered. "Did we pay for it and leave it behind?" He started scanning in the pantry, on the floor and by the doorway.
"It's on the receipt, we paid for flour that we apparently don't have. Can you check to see if we left it in the truck? It's kind of important… the shower is on Wednesday, so I have to start baking tomorrow" she explained apologetically.
Lennox was heading out the door when he turned. "Who the heck has a wedding shower on a Wednesday?" His wife just responded with a shrug of her shoulders and an exasperated roll of her eyes. "Okay, so it's not just me… that is a kind of weird day to have it. Alright…" He lopped out the door. After checking the truck's cab, storage box, backseat, heck under the seats, he concluded that there was definitely no flour to be found.
"No luck, honey," he reported as he made his way into the kitchen. "Here, I'll take the receipt and see if I can get the flour."
"Aww, you'd brave the horrors of the grocery store just for me?" she smiled as she handed him the slip of paper. Will just grinned in response and kissed her.
"I'll be back shortly. Will I get a reward for being such a brave and dutiful husband?" Sarah winked at him suggestively before turning to organise the rest of the groceries. With a skip in his step, he headed out the door and made his way to the truck. He opened the door, hoisted himself into the driver's seat and went to start the truck.
Click.
No humming of the motor, no whining noise of protest. He frowned and tried turning the key in the ignition again.
Click.
"Oh, come on," he groused. "This is like the silent treatment, isn't it? Fine, be like that. I'll just take the Honda." He reached to unbuckle his seatbelt and then realised, with a sinking feeling, that the little Honda was currently in the garage, and blocked in by the big, insulted, stubborn truck. "Look, I'm sorry. She didn't mean it, she's just never liked trucks. Please don't do this."
There were a few moments of tense silence, followed by the rumble of the engine coming to life. And he hadn't even had to turn the key. "So, I'm to resign myself to being the victim of vehicular racism?" a wry voice drawled over the radio. Lennox relaxed as he backed the truck out of the driveway.
"I was kidding about that, I was trying to get her off the subject. I knew you'd get touchy about it, old man." A rumbling laugh vibrated through the steering wheel.
"Your wife dislikes a certain type of man-made vehicle. Fine, she's entitled to her preference. I don't take it personally because I'm not a flawed, man-made vehicle. I'm vastly superior in every way." The human rolled his eyes once again.
"Yeah, 'Hide, 'cept I've never had the Honda get annoyed at me and refuse to start. Say what you will about our flawed vehicles, at least they don't give us attitude."
"Now, now," the Autobot admonished him teasingly. "Can't we all just get along? Your wife and I just made up nicely, why do you have to ruin that and start a fight?"
"Yeah, about that, pal. Don't get any ideas involving my wife. I saw that little moment you two had… I'm keeping my eyes on you." More amused laughter rumbled through the radio. "If you're feeling lonely, though, her sister drives a nice mini-van. Maybe I could arrange an introduction."
"Please," Ironhide scoffed. "don't tell me you think I'd actually be interested in a mini-van. I know there's not a lot of options for an Autobot on this planet, but I'm not that desperate. Though if you know someone who drives a Ferrari Enzo…" the gruff voice trailed off musingly.
The human's eyes widened in shock. "What, that was a joke. You guys don't seriously check out our vehicles, do you?"
"The red ones are particularly nice…"
"Oh, come on. You're messing with me now… aren't you?" he asked uncertainly.
"Hmm… how much sleep are you going to lose at night if I don't answer that question?"
Will scoffed. "Whatever, I don't need to know what you guys do in your spare time." They drove in silence for a few moments before a frightening thought occurred to him. "Hey, wait, what about when I leave you alone in the garage with our Honda. You don't try to… erm… uh…"
"Hmph, of course not. Honestly, you humans." Will let out an obvious sigh of relief. "The Honda's a nice enough gal, but I prefer someone with a bit less mileage on her. I mean, if you did decide to replace her with a nice SUV, I wouldn't complain…"
"Not cool, 'Hide, that is so not cool. I defended you back there, man. I had your back. Sarah doesn't know that you're a mechanical life-form who doesn't pollute the environment and doesn't have any maintenance fees, but if she knew that she had to worry about a pervy old machine molesting our family vehicle, she would so make me get rid of you."
The truck stopped at a light and rumbled. "By Primus, I was kidding. We have no interest in molesting your Earth vehicles." Will tapped the steering wheel affectionately.
"Thanks for clearing that up, buddy." The drove for a few minutes in companionable silence. "Look, I don't want to replace you, 'Hide. You're a good friend." The truck rumbled appreciatively.
"Acknowledged, but don't worry about me getting offended. If you need a different vehicle, then that's that. Besides, there's no guarantee that I'll always be around when you need me to get groceries. And, frankly, I wouldn't be a very good family vehicle." Will chuckled. "But as long as I'm around, you can trust me to protect you, Sarah and little Annabelle with my life."
At that, they pulled up to the parking lot of the grocery store. Woah, when did we get here? Will was very glad that he had let Ironhide take over the driving. "Yeah, I know. That's the main reason I don't want any other vehicle. I'll be back shortly, buddy." On that happy note, Will left his friend to wait while he braved the hectic grocery store once more.
