A/N: ...I sincerely hope this isn't as crappy as I think it is. Regardless, I've already spent enough time agonizing over this thing, so this is as good as it's going to get.

My brain is fried and it's only Monday. I am officially exhausted. ...As usual.

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E-Brakes On

Part 2

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Four days earlier

Homesickness, thought Lennox, was a way of life in the military.

For the little the subject was brought up between the soldiers on base (except for where near-death experiences, jumping out of planes at altitudes of twelve-thousand feet plus, and of course the ever-favorite practically-suicidal missions happening on decidedly-hostile territory soil were concerned—because these situations were exempt from this clause in their own right because who the hell was supposed to go through any of this kind of crap without having their life flash before their very eyes at least once), it was universally understood to be an almost unanimously agreed-upon thing.

Loneliness. That never-fading yearning for the good times, the unforgettable times, the days where life had just been so god-damned easy. It was ever-so-slightly different for everyone—whether it was longing for the homely scent of familiarity that came with freshly-cut grass and backyard barbeques on disgustingly-happy Fourth of July's surrounded by family or simply just the experience of sipping a strong cup of your favorite brand of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning while relaxing quietly in front of the television with your favorite pair of slippers on, while your wife and children slept on peacefully upstairs—Will Lennox knew that homesickness could be damn rough.

It was rough, and the most-important thing that he had learned on his rather-hellish journeys with the military thus far was that it was rough on everybody. It was the one thing they all had in common, and this was not a thing that dividing lines such as differing home states, countries, or even worlds applied to. Homesickness shattered the kinds of borders that humanity had yet to entirely breach despite its unending attempts—and even though men from everywhere he could ever possibly remember having met (even men from places with names he could not pronounce), never wanted to admit that they'd fallen for a weakness as seemingly-folly as homesickness.

But it really was right up there, hovering somewhere just under PTSD on the sliding scale of 'how-to-drive-a-soldier-mad-in-ten-days'.

This was why, in order to combat that uneasy feeling of dreaded heartache (and 'combat' it really was, thought Will, because in order to beat it you really had to wage a war against it, sometimes)—one had to find a way to arm oneself against its effects. No, it wasn't just military missions and rogue Decepticon raids that called for heavy ammunition sometimes, but rather the intrinsic workings of the human mind and the rather-powerful instincts that came with several millennia of a little process Darwin had dubbed 'natural selection'. You had to be smart, sharp, and ruthless when it came to fighting it, and strike it straight through the heart. Because if you didn't, its darkness could be blinding and all-encompassing and if you weren't careful, it would swallow you whole.

And for Will Lennox, the particular source of this soul-crushing darkness that he had battled against fiercely for days on end was just how much he missed his wife Sarah and his baby girl Annabelle; he missed them so deeply and so strongly that even despite his best efforts, he still experienced the pain of life without them. He felt it the most during those quiet evenings he spent alone in his bunker, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. And when he did dream, more often than not he would dream of them—and he was never able to fully decide what was worse, the nights on which he had the nightmares of losing them forever, or the dreams that were so vivid and tender and so full of love that he could smell them as though they really were right there with him.

Because those were the ones that killed him, the ones where he would wake up and feel as though everything right down to his damned soul was torn in two. It was agonizing, and when he looked around it was all he could do to remember that they were not here but they were instead safe in their beds far, far away where the terribly dreadful types of things Will had borne witness to in the past couple of years could not touch their pretty little minds.

So, it was better not to dream—and this was began to develop a habit of making sure that he was so thoroughly exhausted when he fell asleep that he didn't dream at all.

But by day, Will Lennox was a soldier. He was very smart and determined and optimistic, no matter how bad things got. Will was usually the one who kept his head up and his mind as clear as was possible and found a solution to the problem at hand. His loyalty was strong and he found sanctuary in the relationships with the people he loved and cared for and the little things in life.

Will loved sunsets and sunrises (especially that liminal feeling just after sunset on hot summer nights where the stars were just beginning to come out and the world seemed to hover on the precarious edge between reality and an eclipse of spacetime, and everyone who was awake and outside breathing in the scent of sun-scorched earth and possibly campfire was drunk on it to the point of giddiness), sushi (heck, any form of salmon was good with him, really), the particular brand of perfume Sarah wore, and long-distance running.

And it was running that had helped him out the most when it came to fending off the plague of homesickness and its depressing feelings of loneliness. He had always found it to be exhilarating, but the level of freedom and control it gave him did wonders when it came to weakening the powerlessness he felt over his life in the military sometimes. It was a great outlet, and an adrenaline-pumping one at that—there were times when Will had nearly felt unstoppable enough to believe that if he kept running, he could run all the way home to Sarah and Annabelle.

He liked it best when there was no one else around, which was a situation that was hard to come by at NEST. Meaning that Will was often up well before dawn at nigh four-thirty in the morning every single day, when the sky was still periwinkle and the stars overhead were only just beginning to fade from the sparkling carpet that the desolate desert provided as an overnight spectacle. He ran at night, too, but this was less common—he saved his late-night jogs for evenings when he either felt insomniac tendencies coming on, or else for when he suspected the possibility of dreams.

So, when Will's feet hit that dew-slick tarmac outside of his bunker at NEST headquarters every morning, he ran like crazy—usually running laps around the entirety of NEST base—all the way until the sun was properly up and the asphalt had started to steam in the first hints of the heat of the day as his fellow comrades were roused by the five-thirty A.M. call.

Ah, it was the one time of day where isolation was not lonely and the air was fresh and cool and the only noise that could be heard was the hum of early-morning insects and the creaking chirp of hundreds of hungry crickets—except for just now. Because just now, Will had been surprised by a new noise and had stumbled because of it, nearly offing himself as he tripped in a random thicket of tumbleweed which sent him almost head-first straight into a cluster of Prickly Pears with spears the size of his freaking pocket knife.

Yeouch.

Luckily, he'd missed these, and instead got two handfuls and a mouthful of the south's finest red powder. "What the—?" Will spat and choked, tasting the grittiness of dirt.

"Lennox? Are you all right?"

There was no mistaking exactly who that concerned voice belonged to, thought Will with a groan, as he realized suddenly the reason behind the new noise that had surprised him so badly.

It had been the big truck's transformation.

His next thought was pure outrage at the fact that he had somehow been so into what he was doing that the thirty-plus foot robot had actually managed to sneak up on Will Lennox. He huffed heartily as he staggered back onto his feet, wiping his dusty hands off on the sides of his khaki-camo shorts.

"I think so. Jesus, for a giant robot, you sure can be pretty stealthy when you wanna be, Optimus," he said in annoyance, taking inventory of his hands and knees (which thankfully had not suffered more than a couple scrapes apiece), before folding his arms across his chest and fixing the Autobot commander with an unconvincingly suspicious look. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

Optimus was looking down at the human officer with an expression of extreme concern. "I must apologize for the alarm I have caused you. I had assumed that you were aware of my presence when I transformed—are you certain you are not hurt, Major Lennox? That looked somewhat, ah, painful."

"I'm fine. Seriously! Just a couple of scrapes, no big." Regaining his usual laid-back attitude, he pushed one hand back through his ruffled, sandy blonde hair to brush out the dust while considering the Optimus curiously.

While Will was accustomed to the privilege of enjoying his morning runs without being interrupted, it was not the first time he'd found a comrade of his wandering the base in the early hours of the morning. Once or twice, his comrades had even offered to join him, and Will had relished the little bit of competition it had offered.

However, Optimus Prime did not look in the mood for a morning run, not that Will would have been overjoyed to have the enormous robot as an opponent, anyways—one stride from the Autobot equalled no less than ten for the human officer. It would have been an unfair competition at best.

Optimus was still watching Lennox cautiously as though he was expecting him to collapse again at any moment. The human kneeled down to examine the knots tied in his running shoes as he stole curious glances at the robot out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't think you were the type who fancied a morning jog," he said at length. "And not that I'm complaining if you feel like giving it a go with me, but I don't think we'd make the best partners. On account of you being over twenty feet taller than me with feet the size of a picnic table," Will smirked. "Not going to lie, as much as I enjoy pancakes for breakfast, I'd rather not be the pancake for breakfast, if you know what I mean…"

The enormous robot peered down with an expression of calculating amusement as he laughed. "I do, but I think your fears are unnecessary, Major Lennox. We both have seen that Cybertronian anatomy is just as complex and agile as human anatomy is. Granted, my sense of coordination and balance far overshadows your own, even if only before the light of morning sunrise."

"Oh, really?" challenged Will, pretending to be insulted even though he knew that Optimus was just kidding around as the two often did. While the Prime was almost always outwardly stoic, Will had learned that Optimus had just as much of a sense of humor as his Autobot comrades did. He just had a more-reserved way of showing it.

"And I don't suppose me falling had anything to do with you surprising the hell out of me at all, did it?" Will placed his hands on his hips as he stared up at the 'bot with a look of false irritation. "But never mind me, what're you doing out here this early in the morning, anyway?"

While Will had been fully expecting Optimus to respond with an equally-challenging, albeit much more smoothly-delivered retort, he was surprised to see the massive robot's huge shoulders shrug as a prolonged sigh escaped his air-vent system. "…Truthfully, I was not able to recharge properly," he said at length. "I have been experiencing more and more disturbances while in recharge, and this morning I did not see the point in continuing to unsuccessfully attempt to reengage recharge mode while the view of the horizon through the window from my berth was so exceptionally beautiful."

Will watched in disbelief as Optimus lowered himself to the ground to sit on the only cactus-free space nearby—a low outcropping of orange-stained bedrock which Will clambered up on top of to join him.

"You haven't been sleeping well?" he asked, finding a rather flat space of rock to sit atop of. Though the hunk of stone stood barely three-feet-high over the rest of the gently-sloping wasteland, it provided an amazing view of the slowly-approaching sunrise.

The Autobot leader was right about one thing, Will realized as he took in the silhouetted rolling hills stuck with the irregular shapes of cacti and distant mesas. It was an exceptionally beautiful morning.

Optimus nodded. "I have had too much on my mind."

Will reached over and gave the 'bot an empathetic pat on the only part of his arm within reach—his elbow. "I understand how you feel, man. That's kinda why I'm always up at this time of the day, too—if I keep lying there trying to sleep I'll just start thinking about things I don't wanna be thinking about. Besides, this is the only time of the day where it isn't way too blazing hot to run."

When the 'bot didn't reply, Will shot him a sideways look. He didn't appear to have fully registered what Lennox had just said. "Are you sure you're okay, Optimus?"

Will did not want to press the subject if the Autobot commander did not want to tell him what was on his mind, but Lennox wanted to make sure that his faithful comrade knew that he was there for him if he needed someone to talk to. Moreover, he could tell that, whatever it was that was bothering him, it must have really been important—a vague suspicion of the subject matter tugged at the back of Will's mind, but he pushed it away. He was thinking about the rumours he'd been hearing around base of late, rumours of things he personally felt he had no place knowing the details of.

But one look up at the Prime showed him that a mechanical crease had formed between Optimus's eyebrows and that the robot was rubbing the bridge of his nose in worry. As he watched, he sighed yet again, long and heavy and more preoccupied than Lennox had ever heard coming from him.

"Is it about the Decepticons?" asked Will with a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach—what else could make the leader of the Autobots himself act so troubled? "They're not mobilizing again, are they? Has Meg—"

"No, this has nothing to do with Megatron, nor does it have anything to do with the Decepticons." Optimus ran his hands over his face, breathing in deeply through his vents with the sound of sucking air. "It is… trivial. I do not wish to waste your time… In fact, I am ah—somewhat embarrassed—to admit that I have let such a thing assume such overwhelming control over my processor…"

This was left so open-ended that Will felt himself staring in spite of himself. "Okay," he choked, clearing his throat. "So. Trivial or not, it's obviously bothering you. Um. Is it something you think I can help with?"

The Autobot turned to look at him at once, and Will met the soul-searching azure optics dead-on and within a split second of watching their apertures expand he knew. It all made sense—the borderline pleading, out-of-his-element and-yet-still-not-willing-to-ask-for-help look in his optics, the sudden apathy, along with the aforementioned rumours that Will had been trying his best to ignore.

Optimus was having dating problems. No, scratch that—Optimus was having dating human women problems.

Which meant that he had just unknowingly offered to assist the Autobot commander in the one area of his life that Officer Lennox knew next to nothing about—the most awkward area of Cybertronian/human interspecies romance.

Will felt the bottom of his stomach drop so far all at once that it felt like it disappeared through the ground and came right back out the other side of the planet. He wouldn't have been surprised to find the remnants of the hastily-gulped protein smoothie he'd had for 'breakfast' splattered all over the Great Wall of China. And it was a good thing that NEST Special Ops team didn't plan on visiting there anytime soon, because he'd have a hell of a time explaining to those damned poor tourists why suddenly The Great Wall was covered with smelly half-digested Will-goo.

Yuck.

"Major Lennox," Optimus said in his usual quiet growl, still fixing Will with that super-intense, almost-pleading look. "I would consider it a great honour if you would try to help me with this. Though I will certainly not be offended if you should express discomfort on the subject of what I am about to tell you…"

Here it comes, thought Will, trying not to wince. Part of him felt kind of guilty for being so squeamish, because Optimus was a pretty close friend of his, all things considered. Even though he was technically the Autobot leader's Commanding Officer, it was hard to truly feel like you were the boss of a millennias-old epic intergalactic war hero in the form of a thirty-plus foot robot who was not only a helluva lot more experienced than you, had guns a helluva lot bigger than yours, but who happened to also be so big and strong that he could accidentally trod on you like some kind of human-sized mouse and squish you to death if you weren't mindful of his big-ass robotic feet. As such, it would appear to anyone who had just met the human officer and the leader of the Autobot sanction under Will's command like the roles should have been reversed, if anything.

But the big bot, for as dangerous and dominating as he looked (yup, Will Lennox would definitely not want to fuck with that if he had happened to come across Optimus one day without ever having met a Cybertronian before—although, since he actually had, he knew that Optimus's appearance was far less daunting than pretty much all of the Decepticons out there), Optimus Prime happened to be Will's best Autobot friend and one of his most favorite comrades on base in general.

Will also knew that the sentiment was returned in kind. The two had become close over the years. They'd fought in this war together, marched into many a battle with their guns held high and blazing, bringing the rain like no one on neither Earth nor Cybertron had ever seen before.

However, spending afternoons practicing together at the shooting gallery, or perhaps sharing a drink with the Autobot leader after a hard day of training while discussing war tactics was a helluva lot different than being initiated into such an intense discussion as the one that was currently unfolding between the two. It was a step forward in their friendship that Will had not been prepared for, and as off-putting the prospect of discussing human/Cypertronian romance was, he had to admit that if there was any Autobot he could have chosen to share a round of this kind of guy-talk with, he would definitely have chosen Optimus Prime.

Fortified with that mental reassurance, Will cleared his throat. "Mhm. Yeah, I think I see where this is going. No problem, Optimus… so what's really up? Mikaela giving you trouble, or something?"

Whatever Optimus had expected Will to say, it was not this. Optimus's optics widened in surprise. "Ah, no… not trouble, exactly…" the Autobot's gravelly voice choked. "But how did you know, that this was to do with my—relationship—with—?"

Will had to laugh at this. "Oh, it was easy," he chortled, shielding his eyes against the first rays of sunshine that were just beginning to crest over the barren landscape. "I recognized that look on your face. Every guy alive knows that look, and it doesn't matter if your human or Cybertronian—it means the same goddamned thing."

"Ah," Optimus blinked slowly as he studied one of his massive hands. "I see."

"So what's the deal?"

The 'bot took a while to answer, and when he did he spoke gradually, as though choosing every word with care. "It is… what concerns me is that… Mikaela had mentioned to me on the date of our last meeting, that in four earth days' time from now, by the laws that govern this country, Mikaela will officially be of legal age to consume the flavored infusions of ethanol that your species enjoys recreationally. It will be the twenty-first anniversary of the day on which she was given birth to."

"Birthday," muttered Will, more to himself than anything else. "It's her birthday. Of course."

"Yes, the anniversary of her birth," continued Optimus, sounding more and more self-conscious with every word he spoke, "And I must admit, that I am at a loss of what her expectations are… for she has insisted that she celebrate in my company instead of with her family and friends, a decision which I am grateful for, even if I do not feel as though I deserve such an honour."

"And you're wondering what the hell this means for you, right?" grinned Lennox, starting to enjoy himself a lot more than he had imagined he would. It wasn't every day one got to give an interstellar-travelled alien robot dating advice.

"Yes, exactly," squirmed Optimus uncomfortably. "I… am aware of Cybertronian traditions—in fact, on my home planet, I was exceptionally well-versed in them. But your species has different traditions, and I am concerned that I am woefully ignorant… but still determined to repay Mikaela in kind for her decision. I have promised to surprise her with something great, but I am in need of information, and on this subject I—forgive me—do not wholly trust with your Internet databases, due to its unreliability. This subject is of …extremely sensitive nature," he nodded.

Will had to suppress a snort at this. "Yeah, I feel you. I wouldn't trust the internet with this kind of stuff either. But… okay look, Optimus, I'm no casanova, all right? So take this with a grain of salt, but… Mikaela is turning twenty-one? Hmm…"

Optimus waited patiently while Will took a moment to consider this. It had been what felt like ages since his own twenty-first birthday, but he could still recall how important the date had been to him and how much trouble he had got up to with his friends. But women were a lot different than men, and from what Will knew of Mikaela, there was a lot more to her than what you saw on the surface.

"Well usually, you'd give your significant other some kind of romantic present," Will started, thinking carefully. "Like, chocolates, or jewellery, or flowers, or something. Girls like that kind of stuff—I'm not sure what Mikaela likes in particular, but you can't really go wrong with any of those."

The enormous 'bot was staring at Will, drinking in every single word like his life depended on it. God, Will thought, somebody is hungry for advice…

"Jewellery…" repeated Optimus thoughtfully as the tiny motors in his audial plates whirred as they rotated. "Flowers… hm. And what sort of flowering plant might you suggest, Will? Your planet has several hundred thousand, many of which may have …romantic implications."

"Roses," said Will promptly. "Red roses."

"Ah. Well I do like the scent of Rosa Centifola."

"Good. Get her some of those, then, for starters. But if you're going to be spending all night with her, you're going to have to do a lot more than just buy her a bundle of flowers. And I don't mean just take her for a drive, or to a drive-in, or whatever else it is you guys usually do together. Every girl I've ever met who's celebrating their twenty-first birthday pretty much only has one thing on her mind… maaaaaybe two if you're lucky, ha… and they usually all involve drinking, nightclubs, and a whole lotta dancing."

"Dancing?" repeated Optimus blankly. "Nightclubs? Perhaps that is not advisable—"

"Well obviously not, in your case," continued Will promptly, hitting his stride as he looked the Autobot leader up and down. "You're kind of—well—conspicuous. So you're going to have to think outside the box. You can't take Mikaela out partying, right? So why don't you try taking the party to her?"

"I am not sure what you mean," Optimus frowned.

Will took a moment to crack his neck and his knuckles before he answered. "Here's my proposition," he said, businesslike. "Mikaela'll want to have a good time, and we both know that her going out in public with you is a big fat no-no, especially not when there's the very high chance that she might drink so much you'll have to carry her home. And 'cause I'm preeeetty darned positive that that is not the best experience for any boyfriend, no matter what planet your from—so why don't you throw her a birthday party instead?"

Optimus considered this thoughtfully. "Hmm."

"No, really!" Will continued, growing increasingly enthusiastic. "That way, you guys won't have to go out in public, and you won't have to worry about her vomiting all over your interior. Aha, speaking of worst-case scenarios only, of course," Will chuckled at the horrified look on Optimus's face. "I'm sure Mikaela's a lot more responsible than that, though. And plus—Mikaela loves you guys. I might not know her as well as you do, but I'm pretty sure she'd be super stoked if someone threw her her very own Autobot birthday party. Bonus points if it's a surprise party."

"She does enjoy the somewhat limited time she has to spend with all of us…" said Optimus slowly. "Bumblebee in particular. I am aware that the two were close friends, and it has been hard on her, not seeing him as often since her and Sam terminated their relationship. Yes," the Autobot nodded, his mind mostly made up. "This idea would likely be the best course of action… although, it still leaves me with the question of what exactly she will be expecting as a part of this… ah, surprise party, as I have never attended another human's birth-anniversary, or any of these, ah—nightclubs—you have mentioned, for that matter. I cannot simply recreate—"

"Nonesense," interrupted Will. "Look, it'll be fine. I'll help you out with the planning. All you need is a couple of her good friends—the Autobots and maybe you can round up some of the other people she knows who are in on you guys and all. Some drinks—and that's easy, too. I'll take care of the human side of things, and you guys have got tons of that high-grade stuff around, haven't you?"

"Well yes, but—"

"…And for music, the hangars have got a pretty good sound system of their own, and I've got a huge library of some pretty good tunes I think Mikaela would like…"

"Yes, but Lennox—"

"…And food, you'll need food, maybe you could order a couple of pizzas… snack foods… popcorn… and speaking of popcorn, when it gets late you could always throw on a movie, snuggle up beside her, and who knows, maybe you'll get lucky—"

"LENNOX!" Optimus half-shouted, finally gaining the overenthusiastic human's attention. "…I do not have the facilities—I would need permission for such a—and I very much doubt—"

"We can do it on base, it's fine," said Will confidently. "I could probably arrange it." He wiggled his eyebrows up at the giant 'bot. "Just as long as you let me hang around for a bit. You'll need a Commanding Officer there as an overseer anyways, so you'll have to keep me around. I'm sure it'll be okay—a few of the higher-ups owe me a favor, after all. And man, you totally wasted on high-grade… I'd almost pay money to see that!"

Optimus let out a sigh of exasperation as he rubbed his forehead, but he could not conceal a slight smirk of amusement. "I am not certain I intend to drink that much. But regardless, I of course appreciate your assistance on this matter, Major Lennox. Even more than is obviously apparent." He looked down at his human comrade with an expression of fondness. "…And if it really is your desire to see me 'totally wasted on high-grade' as you have put it, I will bear this in mind during the, ah, celebration."

Will clapped his hands together, grinning wildly. "It's settled, then," he said, pulling out his cell phone to set himself a reminder to make sure he spoke to the necessary people about Optimus's plans for Mikaela's birthday so that they could get clearance before the weekend. "I'll take care of the legalities and I'll let you know when I know what's up."

"That sounds excellent to me."

The sun had fully risen by the time Will had jumped up from the rock; Optimus followed suit, looking a great deal more cheerful than he had been when they'd first met this morning. They'd been talking for so long that NEST's usual early activities had already begun without them—soldiers were taking to the tarmac in lines, vehicles were rolling about packed full of supplies, and orders were being shouted over giant megaphones bolted to the exteriors of the closest buildings. Will felt his achingly empty stomach rumble as the mouth-watering odour of cooking bacon and sausages floated over to him from the mess hall.

"Yeah," he said happily as he scanned the crowds for a glimpse of his training partner, Epps, as he and Optimus prepared to go their separate ways. "All we've gotta do is invite a couple more people… maybe find some good games to play—ha! I'll bet Mikaela likes Twister…"

"What is Twister?" Optimus asked, very confused.

"Oh, you just wait," grinned Will evilly as he spotted the back of Epps's bare head. "You just wait. …You didn't have drinking games on Cybertron, did you?"