Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reviews! Okay this is hard to explain but the hock of a horse is the joint on their back leg and its like our elbow except not as flexible. Here's another way: a horse's back leg is kind of like a sideways 'v' and the hock is the point of that 'v'.
Chapter 1
The water whispered soft murmurs as the girl drifted along. She kept her eyes closed, the soft rays of the sun bathing her fair skin in a kind of warmth that only the sunshine can give. Muffled echoes from the water chorused in her submerged ears while her brunette hair, soft and wispy tresses beneath the water, framed her face like a halo. The girl, caught in between the awkward threshold of childhood and adulthood, spread her arms upward through the water as if they were wings. Gently, she pulled them back to her sides as she continued floating along on her back.
There was no need to open her eyes and check on the whereabouts of Valor; she knew that the Andalusian horse was peacefully cropping away at the golden grass that surrounded the banks of the secluded pond. The girl let a smile play out across her sun bathed face. She knew how lucky she was to have such an extraordinary horse who was young and yet so amiably natured. Her father had held true to the generations of horsemen and women before him and had picked out the perfect horse for his daughter. Valor was still young, his coat was dappled from the transition of a black foal to a pristine white adult, but he was more level-headed than some of the adult horses her family had once owned.
Blinded by her ponderings, the girl was slightly taken aback when the warm water and sunlight disappeared. She frowned, figuring that she had drifted closer to shore where the oak branches stretched out above the water. The girl opened her eyes to see the mosaic of oak branches and leaves intermixed with the blue sky. She let her feet sink down below her so that she was upright in the water. Her toes briefly bumped against a waterlogged branch on the bottom and she immediately recoiled at the strange, unexpected touch. Valor peered over at her from the grassy shoreline, up to his knees in the golden grass that he overzealously tore up.
Valor was so peaceful and calm that he always seemed to reassure his girl. She treaded the water so that she avoided the hidden objects on the bottom, watching as the horse cropped away at the grass. Something about him was extremely regal which was partly the reason that he was named Valor which meant 'courage' in Spanish, the language of the country his ancestors originated in.
He was large, or rather would be large considering that he still had some growing to do, and looked as if he belonged in the famous oil paintings of royalty charging into battle on their magnificent steeds. Valor had a black mane and tail that were thick as they were long. His soft dark eyes peered out from the long ebony forelock that nearly ran down past his white face to the edge of his charcoal muzzle. The black insides of his ears were a great contrast to the white of their outsides. His thick neck, chest, shoulders, and haunches were an iron grey with dappled splotches of white and the dapples became more numerous along his broad stomach, so much that they formed large splashes of white. Valor's body was stout and thick, set on lean black legs; higher up on his legs the black faded away to the white dapples that dotted his haunches, neck, chest, and shoulders.
Looking up at the sky, the girl sighed when she realized that it was getting late in the day. Her mom would be coming home from work soon and would be needing help cooking dinner. That was the arrangement at home. Since there was just the two of them, the girl would take care of the animals and share in cooking and the household work. It wasn't anything new to the pair of women since the girl's father had been involved in the military since he had turned eighteen. He had risen in the ranks and while that had been beneficial to his career, it had left his family used to his long and frequent absences.
The girl swam to the shore and pulled herself from the water. She grabbed her sarong from the sand and gave it a good hard shake before messily tying it around her waist. Valor began hastily eating up all the grass within his reach, hoping to get as much as possible before being taken away from it. The girl leaned down and picked up the blue nylon lead rope that was clipped to Valor's leather halter which had fallen to the ground when he had shook away the flies. With practiced ease she swung up onto the horse's dappled back. Before she was even settled he was off at a brisk walk while still trying to grab at the tickling ends of the grass strands.
Valor trotted along beneath the oak and pepper trees, his movements slow and fluid. The leaves and grass beneath his rock-like hooves crunched and rustled with every step, creating a soft beat that went along with the rest of the sounds in the hills they were trotting through. The girl let her body swing along with Valor's as if they were one single entity instead of two polar opposite beings. Her wet curls bounced with the horse's movements, water droplets spraying off. The girl squeezed with her legs and Valor leapt forward into a flowing lope. It was so swift and smooth that it felt as if he was a wooden rocking horse rather than a living breathing creature. One of the frequent breezes ran by, picking up the fallen leaves and urging them into chasing the Andalusian.
Soon the ground began moving upward and the girl had to grab a chunk of the thick black mane to keep herself from sliding right off of Valor's back. The young horse was trying to go faster, his thick neck arched as he strained against the girl's hold on the lead rope. The girl smiled and gave in. She loosened her hold and let the exuberant horse rocket them forward. They bolted up the hill, Valor's powerful haunches digging deep. At the top of the hill, when there were practically no trees, all of the strength that Valor had been using to get up the hill turned into pure speed. He shot up over the crest so fast that both horse and rider were caught off guard by the downed oak tree in their path. The girl let out a cry when Valor pulled up short right before the log, his neck and head thrown up and almost hitting his rider, but it wasn't enough. At the very last second the horse gathered himself up and made an awkward leap over the fallen tree. The girl hung on but she was still so wet from her swim that she slid right off the moment that the jarring landing was made.
She landed with a dull 'thud', the side of her face planted firmly against the ground. For a few moments she was absolutely still before a groan erupted from her as she rolled over on to her back. Slowly, her body began quivering and her hands covered her red face. Valor looked on with a 'what are you doing down there?' look and worriedly nudged his fallen rider, his lead rope dangling from his halter onto the ground in front of him. The girl moved her hands and her laughter filled the air. She was laughing so hard that she curled her sore body up, her arms wrapped around her stomach. Dirt covered her while twigs, dirt, and leaves clung to her soaked brunette curls.
"Well that was graceful," she said to no one in particular as she pulled herself to her feet, noting that Valor had wandered off upon seeing that she was alright. She rearranged her black bikini top, the pink rhinestone flower covered in clinging dirt, and with a slight limp she began looking for Valor.
The girl didn't have to go far because she looked down from the raised land she was on top of down into a shallow, gently sloping canyon and froze at the sight that she saw. Down below her, almost in the bottom of the canyon, was Valor who had wondered off with his young attention span probably in the search of nice forage. The horse was snorting and frantically pulling back at the lead rope that had gotten caught in the barbs of a prickly pear cactus. Valor was frantic in trying to pull himself free; he was set so far back that the base of his tail was nearly touching the ground.
What had Valor so petrified was…a robot. The girl's world spun and went hazy as she stared at what was going on down in the canyon. She had to take a few steps back to keep herself from falling from the pure shock of the whole thing. It was if she was stuck in some bizarre dream after sampling some of her parents' vodka at one of her brother's illegal parties. The robot was about fifteen feet high with dark silver coloring and even had what looked like the antlers from Batman's mask on the sides of its head. When the girl noticed that its chest was made from a car chassis, had headlights on its wrists, and then wheels serving as heels on its feet, all she could do was stare with mouth agape at the realization that it was made from car parts.
When the girl finally got her bearings back, she dropped to the ground to keep hidden from sight. She began scrambling back down the hill but was frozen when she heard Valor's petrified cry. She wasn't about to leave her horse even though she was as terrified as poor Valor. Her heart yearned for her terror stricken horse and even though her flight instincts were screaming at her to run, she crawled back up to peer down into the canyon. Feeling completely helpless all the girl could do was watch and pray that Valor would be able to free himself.
The robot watched the horse struggling and was as still as the horse was frantic. Then slowly, he knelt down, taking on the position of a predator about to spring. This caused Valor to actually scream out and he lurched back with such power that his hindquarters slid right out from under him. If it wasn't for the lead rope, he would have flipped right over but instead he awkwardly fell to the side.
The horse scrambled to get himself out of the vulnerable position, his head held up high and keeping the blue lead rope completely taut. He swung his head about until he finally managed to get himself onto his hooves but the lead rope remained strained and taut from his backward pull. The girl was close to tears, her hand raised over her mouth to keep herself from crying out. Unbeknownst to her, her whole body was shaking, especially her raised hand.
The moment that Valor had flipped himself, the robot had gone back into a standing position. Its hands, which were made up of pincer-like claws, were raised up as if to show that it meant no harm. This, however, meant nothing to Valor who continued his struggle. The girl watched in amazement as the robot spoke, its baritone voice a lot more flowing when the girl would have expected a more spurted and, well, robotic tone.
"Come on now, cool it," it told Valor. "I'm not gonna hurt you." The robot continued reassuring the horse as it edged forward. It told the Andalusian that it wouldn't hurt him and that he needed to calm down for it to help. Whether it was because Valor had tired himself out or the robot's calm words and actions had actually registered in Valor's mind, the horse became less frantic. He was still set back on the lead rope, his eyes wide and rolling with fright. But he held still except for the subtle quivering that went over his whole body.
The girl let out a sigh of relief. Some, actually most, horses in Valor's position would have become so crazed in fear that they would have broken their necks in fighting to get loose. But Valor remained absolutely still as the robot cautiously stepped forward close enough to reach forward and pull the lead rope free. Valor scrambled backward from the sudden release of tension but instead of bolting away, he remained where he was. The horse was proving to be living up to his name.
The robot crossed its arms over its chest as if contemplating the horse's sudden change in attitude. Valor himself seemed confused as to why he wasn't running. He kept his head raised, ears so far forward that the tips nearly touched. The robot took a step forward which caused the Andalusian's head to bob up and a long, drawn out throaty snort to come out. With another of the robot's steps Valor started shifting from side to side but he never took a step back nor forward.
The robot knelt down while keeping its whole body straight, not resuming the predatory crouch it had taken on before. It was close enough to stretch out an arm and would be able to touch one of its claws if Valor stretched forward. The girl held her breath unbelieving that what she was seeing was real. A quirky, satirical bit of her mind was telling her that if Valor actually touched the caring robot that she would have to make sure her mom went out and bought lottery tickets.
It lasted for barely a moment but for a split second, Valor's velvety muzzle brushed against a silver claw. As soon as the contact was made, a breeze came up from behind the girl and rushed down into the canyon. Valor snatched his head away from the robot and swung his neck to look up at where the girl was hidden, his large nostrils dilated so much that she could see the pink skin inside. He glanced back at the robot but then bolted up the canyon side to the safety of his girl. The girl scrambled to her feet to keep Valor from accidentally stepping on her and besides, her presence had already been announced by her horse.
Valor pushed his forehead against the girl, his baby mentality telling him to get as close to her as possible. The girl hugged his head, her fingers wrapped in his ebony mane, while she kept her eyes locked on the robot in the canyon below. Robot and girl stared at each other, neither speaking nor moving.
"Megan!" The girl spun around at hearing the name. Both her mind and body was frozen when she saw two young men riding towards her on horseback. Meg looked back at the robot, who had taken a hesitant step backward, before looking back down at her oncoming friends.
"Give me a sec!" she called back. "I'll meet you guys down there!" Ignoring her sore muscles from her earlier fall, she swung up onto Valor's back and then reached forward past his neck to grab the trailing lead rope. With one last look at the robot, she urged the antsy Valor towards her friends.
The young cowboys joked about Meg's dirty appearance but with an extremely fake smile she was able to keep them riding away from the giant robot in the canyon behind them.
Jazz stared up the canyon side to where the girl and horse had disappeared over the crest. He was completely astounded as to what had just happened. Not only had he encountered his first equine since his arrival to Earth but a complete stranger, one he had seen for only a few moments, had kept his presence a secret. Sure he had encountered kind humans, Sam and Mikaela among them, but he knew that he was inconceivably lucky that a good-natured human had just seen him. He knew that Earth wasn't exactly thriving with amiable and peaceful inhabitants. Sure, the girl's name was uncomfortably familiar to the Decepticon leader's, but she had shown more character than he had ever encountered. He may have freed her horse from its unfortunate predicament but she had no reason to not go running and screaming to those two other humans.
She showed more faith and trust than he or any member from his race, besides Optimus perhaps, ever would. If Jazz were to have that same amount of trust, he would have been killed long before he had been ripped in half or even before he had risen to the rank of First Lieutenant.
Jazz also knew that he would be greatly feared when encountering any of the humans and it would take a long time, by human standards, for the Autobots to earn their trust; it was something that Optimus didn't even have to brief him or the other members of his team about upon their arrival.
To put it simply, Jazz was dumbfounded. It was at that moment that he knew he needed to find this girl.
After changing her clothes, Meg squatted besides Valor's right rear leg as she held the hose to the horse's swollen hock. He had tweaked it during his encounter, probably when he flipped over or after, when he was trying to get back up. If she was able to keep it from swelling in the first place then perhaps she could help Valor avoid a lot of discomfort.
"Little boy, I don't know how we manage to do it, but we always end up getting into trouble," the teenager said in a sigh. She rocked a bit back on her heels when her mind started drifting off into daydreams and caused her to let the hose wander off. Frigid water splashed up from the concrete and hit her bare legs. Not feeling the water on his leg and deciding that he was done, Valor started to walk off but Meg reached up and tugged at his black tail to remind him to keep him in place. The horse let off a very human-like sigh as he stood still again. Sure the pain in his hock was getting better but nothing was as soothing as the dinner which would soon be given to him in his stall once his human let off with hosing off his hock.
Valor seemed weary from his encounter with the robot and Meg couldn't blame him. She was exhausted from the experience and she had only been an observer on the sidelines. Reasons as to why there would be a giant robot in the middle of nowhere flitted through her mind but all of them were too near what she would see on the Sci-Fi channel for her own comfort. Domestic government, foreign government, mad scientist who hates the government, alien government? The whole thing was so….so huge, both literally and figuratively, that the best way for her to deal with it was by not thinking about it. In some twisted form of logic she figured that if she made herself forget what happened then perhaps it never really did happen.
Five more minutes of hosing off, Meg led Valor back into the tiny stable. Her flip-flops slapped against her feet, echoing in the twilight air. Her mom was constantly on her case about not wearing the proper clothes around the horses but Meg's teenaged mentality of invincibility was strongly set. In Meg's mind, if she got hurt it was her own fault and who really cared?
Of course her mother didn't quite see it in the same carefree way but she had grown tired of arguing with her daughter when she knew that it would make no difference. When it came down to it, Meg would always do what she wanted when she wanted and how she wanted. It was an admirable independence that would benefit her in the long run, hopefully, but it caused a huge headache for the mother who had to deal with the strong-willed independence coupled with teenaged rebellion.
With Valor in his stall Meg began feeding the inhabitants of the stable. There was Valor in the middle stall, the ''good ol' boy'' family buckskin Quarter Horse named Cougar to his right and then the goat and smaller pair of pygmy goats all sharing a stall on his left. While Meg adored the pygmy goats, Frick and Frack, she and her older brother despised the enormous goat from hell. At first they were fooled by the small(er) size and so-ugly-it-was-cute appearance but after being chased onto the truck's hood, the siblings quickly learned that the evil animal was out for blood. Which was why they nicknamed it Chupacabra, to their mother's despair. Luckily, for him anyway, Meg's older brother had escaped off to college which left Meg alone to fight off the evil assaults of the goat. Even Valor stayed well away from Chupacabra and the only ones that were safe near the presence of the beast were the pygmy goats and Meg's mom, Jeanne.
A good sized breezeway ran down the center of the stable, large enough to just barely fit a truck. Opposite of the stalls was the tack room, then the feed room, and then finally an open space for the bales of hay.
With the animals fed, a scratch between the ears for Valor and Cougar and an evil glare at Chupacabra, Meg ambled inside her house while trying to hide the slight limp. Her mother was in the kitchen, starting to prepare their dinner. A cacophony of metallic drumming blasted through the kitchen as her mother sought out the right sized pots from the cabinets beneath the wood countertops. Meg opened up a cabinet above the stovetop and pulled out a box of bowtie pasta.
"Have you heard from Dad today?" Meg asked as she took the large pot for boiling the pasta from her mother.
"He called while you were out riding. He was disappointed that you weren't here for him to talk to."
"God forbid that I'm out enjoying myself and not using my psychic powers to predict when he's going to call," Meg spat out bitterly as she filled the pot with water from the sink Jeanne stood beside. Her mother grimaced.
"Drop the attitude Marguerite," the middle-aged woman ordered softly, using Meg's real name versus her much preferred nickname. "You know how unpredictable it is over there." Meg just shook her head, despising herself for the resentment she felt. She loved her father and was so proud of how he was serving their country but she wanted her dad back home. So that they could eat dinners together, go out on rides, and for him to threaten the boys who took her out on dates. She felt like a spoiled brat of a traitor but she couldn't help but to wonder what was more important: the call to serve country or the call to serve family.
Meg was absorbed in her thoughts as she stirred the pasta, leaning her hip against the countertop beside the stove and keeping a careful eye on the sauce. Behind her she could hear her mother chopping at the broccoli. Suddenly there was a flurry of blurred fur as two figures came barreling into the kitchen. There was an enormous amount of hissing as the tiny blur in the lead leapt up onto the counter on the opposite side of the stove that Meg was leaning on. The calico hissed and bared her tiny, sharp teeth at the Doberman whining from the floor.
Momentarily leaving the cooking food, Meg took the cat in one hand and the Doberman's leather collar in the other. She led the large, black and tan dog to his chewed up bed in the far corner of the kitchen, ordering him to lie down. His pointed ears pointed straight out from his head in dejection, he curled up on his bed. He rested his muzzle on his tan paws with his puppy dog brown eyes looking up at Meg, the whites beneath his pupil showing. He sullenly watched Meg place the cat in her favorite place atop the fridge.
"Like I really think you didn't taunt him," she told the purring calico. The cat had a satisfied look in her golden eyes as she sat watching the dog below her, her tail flicking back and forth.
"Leave him alone Zoe." Meg's warning tone didn't cause the cat to break her haunting stare down at the canine. The teenager knelt down beside the Doberman, taking his stout, pointed head in between her hands and holding it close to her own face.
"And you, Trouble, don't need to be chasing her every time she runs past you." Trouble just watched her with his innocent eyes.
A bubbling sound from the stove caused Meg to run over to the stove. She resumed her post of stirring but not without catching her mother's small smile. With their backs turned to each other, Jeanne spoke.
"It cracks me up whenever you talk to those animals." Meg wore the same smile she knew was still on her mother's face.
"Hey, you're the one who always goes 'God bless you' whenever one of them sneezes," came the reply in a playfully accusatory tone.
"It's a reflex. Whenever I hear a sneeze, I automatically say it. Just like your grandma taught me."
"And just like how you taught me."
"Exactly."
Before anything else could be said, the phone rang. Meg's mom went over to the cordless phone above Trouble's mangled bed to answer the call. Most of the talking was done on the other end of the line but from her mom's short answers Meg gathered who was calling and what was being said. The conversation didn't last long and soon Meg's mom had resumed her position by the sink chopping fruits and vegetables.
"Randy asking if I was okay?" Meg asked, her tone neutral. She stared at the pale yellow pasta bowties swirling around in the bubbling water.
"He sounded pretty worried. Said that you looked kind of shaken when he and Grady ran into you earlier today. Also said you were pretty dirty, probably from a fall which makes sense with the way you're limping." There really was no hiding anything from her mom. Jeanne had everyone working as spies and Meg was pretty sure she had cameras installed in rocks, trees, and mailboxes. No wonder Meg's military father had fallen in love with her.
"Valor and I were surprised by a log on our ride. He tried to jump it but I couldn't stick the landing."
"Is that all? You're rarely fazed by a fall, unless it was bad." Meg muffled a groan. In addition to the spies and cameras, her mom had uncanny observation skills at her disposal. She was so good that Meg and her brother used to wonder if she was psychic when they were younger.
"I saw something…weird."
"What was it?"
"Don't know. A mirage I think."
"A mirage of…" Meg added 'relentless' to her mother's super mom skills.
"Don't know. I couldn't really get a good look at it because Randy and Grady showed up." The only thing that kept her mother's mental lie detector from going off was probably because Meg was technically telling the truth. She really had no idea what it was that she saw out there.
For a while there was silence as the pair finished cooking their dinner and then set the table. Except for the clinking of glass and silverware or the thud of bowls and cups being placed on the wooden table accompanied by the soft whine of Trouble from his bed, the kitchen was for the most part silent. Finally mother and daughter sat on opposite sides of the small circular table for four. Every once in a while when her mom wasn't looking, Meg would toss an unwanted vegetable over her shoulder for Trouble. Zoe still sat atop her refrigerator, her front paws curled beneath her and tail over the side of the freezer door. She wasn't happy that the annoying dog was managing to get more attention than her after he dared to chase her. No matter, a quick swipe at the nose would remind him who was really in charge of the household and family.
"When are you going to tell those boys that your real first name isn't 'Megan'?" Meg's mom suddenly asked. A small smile played over Meg's lips as she popped a piece of pasta into her mouth.
"Hey, they were smart enough to make the connection that 'Meg' was short for 'Megan'. I wasn't about to correct their moment of brilliance."
"I think you should tell them that 'Meg' is also a nickname for the name 'Marguerite'." At this Meg made a face. It was hard for her mom to tell whether it was because of what had just been said or that the teenager had just eaten a despised artichoke.
"They don't exactly know that my name is really Marguerite."
"You go to school with them. They should know from roll call."
"No one but my teachers know my real first name and the first day of every year I've gone to class early and asked them to call me Meg." Her mom looked slightly insulted at this information that had been playing out for over a decade. She thought Marguerite was a beautiful name. If she hadn't thought that then she wouldn't have given her daughter that name. Meg saw this and instantly felt guilty. She promptly explained that it was just easier to go by a much shorter nickname and besides, the only time anyone used her first name was when she was in trouble so therefore she didn't like hearing it more than she had to.
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet," Meg playfully quoted.
That night, just before bed, Meg lingered looking out her bedroom window. There was the familiar large form of the stable behind the house and then the faint shadows of the hills and then the cliffs even further out. Her fingers mechanically braided her wet brunette hair, water still dripping from the tips from the shower she had just taken. Green eyes wandered out through the window pane and past her blurred reflection. She wondered if that robot was still out there and if it was, what it was doing. She saw no reason why it would be out there in the middle of nowhere. She would think that it would be in some government bunker or out destroying a city. Not rescuing panicked horses in the depths of a shallow canyon in the middle of California. But then again, she wouldn't have thought that it would have such a smooth baritone voice. Or that it would be able to handle a situation like the one it had taken care of. Or that it was able to think things through or care about the horse. Was there someone else there unnoticed by her, ordering the robot what to do? Or was it really acting on its own, like it seemed to be? Did it mean that by acting on its own that it really did care about Valor? If it could care, did that mean that the robot had concerns and feelings? Could robots have feelings? Did that make it a robot? If it wasn't a robot then what was it? Who could build something like that? Could something like that even be built?
Meg turned away from the window that prompted too many questions and overall confusion that would just lead to a massive headache and possibly the implosion of her brain. Instead of thinking it out further, Meg crawled into bed. Zoe was already curled up on one of her pillows, eyes narrowed into sleepy slits. Meg reached out and scratched behind one of the black and orange ears, a silky purr eliciting from the cat. Out of nowhere Trouble propelled himself up onto the queen-sized bed, causing a cry of surprise from Meg. Zoe merely flicked her ears back. The Doberman knew not to disturb the cat once she was settled or he would risk having bloodied scratch marks on his nose.
Trouble circled his lean yet massive body several times before collapsing against Meg's waist and legs. The girl had long given up on kicking the dog off the bed because, frankly, she couldn't deal with her heart swelling with guilt at the dog's pitiful whines of dejection. Even if that did mean having to deal with the angry hisses and yowls that would explode from Zoe when she was startled out of her sleep when Trouble was going through a restless dream in the middle of the night.
Meg couldn't help but to love the oddball pair because the cat and dog reminded her of the relationship she had with her older brother. In the both instances it was a love-hate relationship; the male overzealously loved the female and the female hated the doting attention.
Meg's brother, Andrew, was best described as a big loveable teddy bear. He enjoyed nothing more than hanging out with his friends and pretending to be stupid to get out of the truly stupid situations he and his friends ended up in. And he had annoying his sister down to an art. He knew that he could aggravate her most, not in the traditional bullying, but by being overly doting and loving. Each time he saw his little sister, he would rush her and lift her right off her kicking feet into a python-like bear hug. The worst was when he dyed Valor's coat purple because Andrew thought that it would make the male horse more 'girly' for his sister.
It was even worse for Meg whenever Andrew caught her around boys. Instantly her name went from Meg to the nerve-grating 'MegMeg' and Andrew had an endless amount of both real and made-up baby stories to entertain and mortify with. It was even worse when her older brother knew that she really liked a boy; out came the carefully hidden, yet painfully obvious, threats and somehow Andrew would always manage showing their father's military awards and guns to the incredibly intimidated boy.
It had been an enormous change when her brother went off to college that caused a mixed response from Meg. She was pleased to finally live a day without being suffocated by Andrew's hugs but deep down she really did miss the big oaf. Andrew was an outstanding big brother and despite all of his purposefully torturous doting, he was just being protective of his baby sister. And Meg was just as protective of her brother as he was of her. Just ask the witch who had the nerve to cheat on him.
Thinking of her brother let the teenaged girl calm down from the mind-burning thoughts of the robot. Slowly she drifted off into a light sleep where she dreamed of a knight in gleaming dark silver armor riding Valor through the hillsides.
Jazz waited in his position behind the stable well after he saw the lights in the house turn off. He knew that humans could wake easily from their recharge cycles and he couldn't risk being seen by the other human or even by the older adolescent that had already seen him. The Autobots' secrecy was imperative to their survival on Earth and if their existence was made public, the consequences would be insurmountable.
As soon as he was sure that the females were asleep, he stood up to his proper height, gears grinding out of their previous uncomfortable position. Jazz was not a mech who liked staying in one position for any amount of drawn out time. His structure was mostly designed for agility and speed, not for crouching behind an organic building for several hours with non-sentient life forms nervously moving about inside the structure, threatening to reveal his presence.
Checking once more to make sure that the humans and household animals were asleep, Jazz cautiously approached the house. First he knelt down and peered into the windows of a room where he had heard most of the conversation between the two females take place. He scanned the items in the room, slightly taken aback by the tiny machine that produced radiation microwaves, and then cross-referenced their images with those on the World Wide Web. Quickly his processor put together that this was a room called a kitchen in which the humans stored, prepared, and consumed their sustenance. Jazz shook his head; he couldn't understand why the humans made such a big deal out of their food so much so that they had to build a separate room for it. All he had to do to get nourishment was be out in the sunlight or inject a dosage of energon into his intake port. But then again he was learning that humans were completely different from mechs.
After investigating the kitchen Jazz moved around to peer into the other windows. Along with the kitchen there was also a room with a long table and many high-backed chairs, probably used for a large communal meeting. There was also a room with a desk covered in papers and pictures, model ships and planes, antique weapons, and awards scattered about on shelves and mounted on walls. With the exception of the decoration, it was strikingly similar to the offices of Autobot senior officers. Jazz himself used to have an office but he rarely used it, much preferring to work among his soldiers and fellow officers.
The only other room on the first level, besides hallways and closets, was a large room with upholstered furniture, large monitor (a television, Sam had explained to him), a stereo system, and a computer system along with a 'fireplace'. There was also a large wooden structure with metal pedals and a wooden bench in front of it that Jazz researched as a piano. This room seemed to be the most frequently used.
The second level was at a low enough height that Jazz could peer into the windows by stretching upward. There were only three rooms on the second level, the largest occupied by the mother. The other room was abandoned and then the room that faced toward the stable behind the house was occupied by the girl. Jazz was disinterested in the other two rooms but instead focused on the girl's room.
He carefully placed his clawed-hands against the wood paneling of the house and peered inside. His blue optics glowed back at him in the window's glass and he saw in the dark interior two large forms. Immediately he recognized the girl who was sleeping on her side, her body rhythmically rising and falling minutely with each breath her lungs took in and released. He could see her face, the muscles loose in sleep. Even though she was an organic alien creature he could see the peaceful serenity and innocence on her features. One of her arms was loosely wrapped across a bizarre creature.
It reminded Jazz of Sam's rodent Mojo but this creature was larger, far larger. With some help from the Internet he found that the creature was a dog just like Mojo but this one was characterized as a Doberman. Jazz was slightly amazed that both creatures were canines even though they were so different looking.
When the Doberman's head sprung up Jazz pushed himself back away from the house. Its ears, which were amusingly similar to Jazz's antlers on his cranium, were completely erect. The skin above its mouth crinkled up, revealing the knife-like bones lining its upper and lower jaws. A very distinguishable growl came from the dog and Jazz could see the girl starting to waken.
Before the girl could fully end her recharge, Jazz let out a hasty 'oh!' accompanied by a muttered curse and then dashed from the house. With practiced ease he disappeared into the night before the girl would ever know that he had been there.
Meg sat at the computer desk in the family room as she downloaded a new music album, her bare feet propped up on the cool dark wood as her fingers drummed lightly against the keyboard causing the keys to softly click without actually typing anything. Her intuition told her that the robot had been at her house the previous night. The first clue was Trouble growling in the middle of the night and staring out her window. Both Trouble and Zoe were clearly bothered by something and their unease had kept her awake. When Meg had gone out to take care of the animals in the stable, she saw that they were anxious as well. Both horses had let out full blown neighs when they had seen her, something that only Valor would do on occasion. The shavings inside of Valor and Cougar's stalls had been moved around to show that the two horses had been pacing circles the whole night. Frick and Frack were huddled in the far left corner of their stall with Chupacabra head butting the stall door the moment he had seen Meg.
"I hope it was the real chupacabra and that it'll come back to get you," she had said with a glare.
Back inside the house Meg was contemplating what to do. She knew that something needed to be done but at the same time her intuition told her that it was best to not to tell her mom too much. But if it wasn't the robot then her mom and the animals were in danger. Meg didn't think that the robot would harm them since it had saved Valor and even said that it wouldn't hurt the horse. Meg could only assume that the same went for people as well.
"Hey, Mom?!" Meg called out from the computer. "Mom?!" she yelled again when she didn't get a response.
"If you want to tell me something than you come here!" Jeanne irritably called from upstairs in her room. With a groan Meg let her legs fall to the beige carpet with a muffled thud. She dragged herself up to where her mom was putting away her laundry.
"The animals are really freaked out. I think something was hanging around outside last night. Trouble spotted it and woke me up." Jeanne continued folding the lavender shirt but kept her dark brown eyes riveted on her daughter.
"Coyote, opossum, or a raccoon?" The tone was harsh and serious. There was nothing to take lightly when two women living alone knew that something, or someone, was trespassing in the middle of the night.
"I don't think so. Trouble would have started barking and tried to get out to chase it if it was coyote or a raccoon. He was just growling. And Valor and Cougar are really anxious."
"A cougar then?" At this point her mom had put down the laundry, all of her attention trained on her daughter. Meg was starting to regret telling her mom about the animals' anxieties. She didn't want her mom to call out a full blown search and end up discovering the robot.
"I don't think so. It was probably just a coyote," Meg said, trying to pacify her mother. It worked, but not enough.
"Maybe we should leave Trouble outside tonight. He'll scare away any raccoons or coyotes." Meg bristled at the idea.
"No way! I'm not going to lock my dog out like that! If it's something other than a pest, he could be killed! Why can't we just leave Chupacabra out? If it's a coyote, opossum, or a raccoon, he'll head butt them to death and if it's a cougar he'll be eaten. It's a win-win situation." This time Jeanne was the one to bristle at the suggestion.
"That is not happening. How could you suggest my goat being killed like that?"
"How could you suggest putting Trouble in that kind of danger? At least Chupacabra can go back to Hell, which is where he came from!"
Mother and daughter stared each other down, a battle of stubborn wills raging. Normally the adult would have had the advantage with her fear inspiring glare but that powerful glare had unfortunately been inherited by her daughter. Neither was going to relent so Jeanne had to play the ultimate card.
"Stay up tonight, both you and Trouble, and if you see anything wake me up," she said in a low authoritative tone. She raised her hand when she saw her daughter taking a breath to respond. "And I'm saying this because I am your mother and you will do it because I said so." Meg's mouth dropped in shock. Her mother had never used the 'because I said so' line since her own mother had used to so often that Jeanne had developed a deep resentment for it.
"That was low," Meg said after a moment of gathering herself. Her mom smirked as she returned to folding laundry.
"And I bet you one hundred dollars that you're going to use that same line to your children."
"Never."
"One hundred dollars," Meg's mom said as she held out her hand. Meg eyed it and then took it in her own.
"You're on."
"By the time you have children and you say it, you'll probably have forgotten this bet."
"No way! I'll go up and write it down in my diary."
For a little while Meg let herself push the happenings of the night before into the back of her mind. She went about her day checking her e-mail, walking Valor who was slightly tender from his hock, and doing odd jobs around the ranch. It wasn't until she found the marks in the ground that she really let herself think of the robot again.
They were behind the stable, right next to the corner were Cougar's stall was. Meg crouched down to look at the mark, her fingers hovering over the dirt it was embedded into. Trouble stood slightly behind her, staring intently and trying to figure out what had her attention while his docked tail swiveled from side to side. The marks were absolutely bizarre. They were made up of a strange assortment of geometric shapes that gave no hint as to what made the print. What was so bizarre about it though was that there was an actual tread mark from a tire. A single tread mark as if the tire was just dropped there and then magically lifted back into the air.
The hidden memory of how the robot was made up of car parts resurfaced in Meg's mind. It was the robot she had seen the day before who had been sneaking around. But why was it hanging around at her house? What did it want? Was it interested in her or Valor?
"Agh, too many questions!" Meg cried as she screwed her eyes shut. She let herself fall into a squatting position. Trouble took her lead and sat back on his haunches, watching his girl with a mixture of worry and curiosity. Meg looked over at her dog and then back at the print.
"Why couldn't you be a blood hound?" she asked which only caused Trouble to cock his head. Using the large dog to push herself off the ground Meg went back inside to tell her mom that she had found some raccoon tracks and there was nothing to worry about.
Meg sat cross-legged on her bed with Zoe curled up on her lap. Trouble was sprawled out beside her, snoring away. For a guard dog he wasn't being very vigilant. Meg let herself fall against her pillows and she stared up at her ceiling. It was early in the morning and no matter how much her body and mind wanted it, she wasn't about to fall asleep. However it didn't matter that she fought it off as best as she could, her eyelids began drooping at about four in the morning. Luckily she had a demon goat to keep her in check.
Horrendous bleating followed by a loud bang came from the stable, so loud that Meg and Zoe jumped awake. Trouble simply moaned and readjusted. Jolted awake Meg tossed Zoe off her lap and practically fell off the bed in her haste. At the sudden action Trouble was wide awake. He bounded after Meg as the girl flew down the stairs and out the back door. In the yard everything seemed in perfect order except for Chupacabra who was strutting about on his self-ordered midnight patrol.
Meg waited for a moment to listen if her mom was up but there were no noises from inside the house or any lights that had been flicked on. Cautiously, Meg moved behind the stable where she had found the footprint. Trouble walked closely beside her, so close that he nearly tripped the girl several times. The pair froze when Chupacabra froze and turned his freakish eyes toward them. The goat had been patrolling his stable, protecting the pygmies, and searching for any threats. And from the moment that he came to the ranch, he had deemed the girl and her despicable dog a threat.
Chupacabra lunged forward and barreled toward Meg. With a yelp from both girl and dog, they ran from the attacking goat as fast as they possibly could. Meg in the lead, they rounded the corner of the stable where the girl collided with a column of metal. She hit the dirt hard, head spinning. From her back she stared up with shock as a blurry towering figure loomed above her, silhouetted by the moonlit sky.
It took a long moment for her vision to clear and see the robot staring down at her with two vivid blue lights. Meg screamed as she scrambled away. The robot jolted back at her outburst but then, unbelievably, its left hand turned into some sort of machine gun with a shield around it. Several swirling orbs of blue shot from it and soared over Meg's head to impact the ground in an explosion behind her. Meg flipped to her stomach so that she could get to her feet but she froze when she saw Chupacabra. The ground barely a foot in front of him was a singed indentation and the goat had fallen over from pure terror.
"Holy shit," Meg muttered.
"It was going to attack you. I would have incinerated it but I know how you humans are fond of your animals." Meg looked up in shock at the robot when he spoke in that smooth baritone voice.
"Holy shit," Meg repeated, unable to comprehend any other words besides the two that were flashing in her mind. The robot stared down at her before kneeling.
"Are you okay?" it asked. The metallic face came unnervingly close to her own. She stared at the glowing lights, assuming that they were its eyes.
"Um, yeah. I'm okay," she replied in a squeaky voice. Then something suddenly clicked. "Trouble." Her words were mumbled since her mind was focused on finding her dog rather than speaking coherently.
"Trouble? Are you in trouble?" The robot was clearly confused yet turned on guard as he stood up, searching for any threat. It watched Meg look frantically about.
"Um, no. It's…my dog…his name is Trouble."
"Oh."
"Marguerite?!" Meg froze and stared up at the robot. It had gone down into a crouch and was completely focused on where her mom was probably standing on the back porch. "Marguerite?! Are you okay?!" Meg knew that her mom would be coming and there was no hiding her robotic savior. She looked over towards the direction her mom's voice was coming from and took a few steps forward, thinking frantically.
"I'm okay!" she called before turning back around to see the robot. "Can you..." In the robot's place was a small sports car, shining in the moonlight. "…hide?" It wasn't exactly inconspicuous but if her mom managed to get behind the stable at least it wouldn't be as hard to explain why there was a sports car rather than a fifteen odd foot robot. But the difficulty level would probably be the same.
Meg dashed to where her mom was, who had come to the bottom of the back porch's stairs.
"Your demonic goat got out and tried to attack me. Have you seen Trouble?" Meg's mom was eyeing her suspiciously before turning slightly to the side to reveal Trouble cowering by the door.
"What courage and loyalty," Meg muttered under her breath. Then she turned her attention back to her mom. "I'll take care of El Diablo. So you can go back to bed. Now." Meg's mom continued staring at her as if she was insane… which she was. Finally she went back inside with the luckless Trouble kept out. There was no doubt that Jeanne knew that something was going on but she knew that her daughter had a good head on her shoulders so there couldn't be too much harm done. Once her mom was inside, Meg ran back to the back of the barn. There, as if it were any other car, was the robot. Meg simply stared at it, unable to do anything else.
As soon as everything was clear, Jazz transformed. He stayed in a crouched position and let the girl study him while he studied her. She was lean and tall for a human, especially for a female. Her curly brown hair, which he had early noted turned to an almost metallic shade of a rusted burgundy when in a certain angle of the sunlight, was in a braid that ran past her shoulders. Faint brown spots speckled her cheek bones and her arms but were most abundant on the top of her shoulders. Her body curved in a way that he knew was attractive to human males but upon a scan of her vitals found that she was not active in reproducing.
"What are you doing here?" The voice was light but he could hear it slightly shake with fear. No, not as fearful as much as intimidated.
"I needed to check in with you. You weren't supposed to see me." Jazz watched as the color from the girl's face drained. It made the speckles on her face stand out even more.
"What are you going to do…now… now that I've seen you?" Jazz couldn't resist. He let a low rumbling growl come from deep within his chassis that echoed from his vocalizer.
"That depends," he said in frighteningly low and even tone. The girl nearly fell backwards in fright and would have run if he hadn't raised his hands in submission. "I was just playin'." Seeing his honesty the girl calmed down. Her optics narrowed.
"That is the furthest from funny you can get," she said in such a rushed, insulted manner that it made Jazz feel guilty.
"Sorry," Jazz said with a shrug. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I can't harm humans."
"Can't? As in its impossible for you to harm me or because you aren't allowed?" Jazz was openly surprised by her intelligence.
"I'm not allowed to." Thoughts of the special agents working for Sector 7 made Jazz wish it was different though.
"Who says you can't? The government or…someone else?" The girl was smart, no doubt about that. Jazz could see what she was getting at. He could also see her obvious intimidation of him as she nervously shifted as she stood a 'safe' distance of about two of his arm lengths away from him.
"I'm pretty sure that your government wouldn't want me killing any of you but my Commanding Officer, Optimus Prime, has strictly forbidden the harming of humans."
"So this…Optimus Prime…is like you?"
"You sure have a lot of questions," the Lieutenant said with admiration and amusement. His amusement doubled when the girl's once pale cheeks became a glowing red. "How 'bout I explain myself and you can ask those questions of yours after?" The girl nodded her head and Jazz smiled, something he picked up when studying human reactions. It wasn't natural for an Autobot to smile but since it meant communicating better with the humans he picked it up rather enthusiastically. Especially when he realized how rewarding it was to cause a human to smile since he knew the meaning behind the action.
"Now I need you to answer one of my questions. What's your name?"
"Meg."
"Okay Meg, my name is Jazz. I'm an Autonomous Robotic Organism, Autobot for short, from the planet Cybertron-" Suddenly Jazz was interrupted by a low growl that sounded similar to the one he had given earlier. Trouble was standing behind Meg, his head low and ears flattened against his back.
"Oh, now you decide to be brave," Meg muttered as she threw her arms up a bit in exasperation before they slapped back against her thighs. She walked the short distance over to the dog and knelt in front of him.
"Its okay," she muttered as she took his head in her hands. "He promised he won't hurt us." The last part was a reassurance more for Meg rather than the dog. Meg knew that she was being insanely stupid but Jazz had said he wouldn't hurt her and he had saved Valor. There was also the part that if he wanted to hurt her, there was nothing that Meg could do to save herself.
Jazz moved around so that he could see the Doberman more clearly. Meg was surprised by the Autobot's lithe movements and he was nearly quiet except for the soft collision of his feet impacting the ground and the hydraulics that powered his movements. It wasn't necessarily that he was quiet, but he moved so fast that by the time the sounds were recognized, he was already close by.
Meg watched with curious and anxious amusement as Jazz lowered himself to Trouble's level and couldn't help but notice the similarity between the dog's ears and the antler-like structures on Jazz. Trouble was still growling but a slight push from Meg caused the growl to become much softer, but still present. His hackles were raised in an obvious show of warning.
"If you bite me, you're the one who's gonna be hurt, not me," Jazz announced, referring how Trouble's teeth would most likely break if he tried to bit Jazz's armored body. Personally Jazz couldn't understand why humans spoke to the animals as if they could understand but he was willing to try it out. He watched as Meg calmed Trouble down and it wasn't until Jazz straightened himself out that Trouble finally stopped growling. However the dog stood at tense attention beside his girl, always in constant contact. It was like this, with Meg standing a comfortably safe distance away, Trouble ready to jump into action at the slightest hint of threat, and Jazz in a crouch to be on closer level, that Jazz explained the Allspark, the Decepticons, the war, Earth's involvement, Mission City, his death, and the heroic, and questionably insane, actions of one Samuel James Witwicky. By the time Jazz was done, the sun was returning to the dark night sky.
Despite not having slept at all that night, Meg was wide awake by the time the sun was rising. Jazz's story was incredible and harrowing, especially when he told her that he had been ripped in half in the middle of battle to be brought back over half a year later by the All Spark and their medic Ratchet. Jazz even showed her the still healing weld marks just beneath his chassis. At some point during the story, Jazz had gone from simply being informative to being a full blown storyteller. It was a combination of calming down and her leg muscles throbbing but eventually Meg sat cross-legged in front of Jazz, just like a young child sitting in front of their grandfather as they were being told an old legend. The Autobot would never have had admitted it but he loved the way Meg stared at him with wide-eyes, hanging on to his every word. And if he embellished the story a bit, so what. Made everything a bit more interesting and it wasn't like he was lying.
"Where are you going from here?" Meg asked him as she stood up, stretching her cramped muscles. Trouble had calmed down a bit but he was alert the moment that his girl moved. The teenager was curious about the Autobot's destination since he hadn't explained why he wasn't with his comrades. Jazz, ignorant of the loose ends to his story, looked around and saw the two parked cars beside the house. One was an old rusted truck while the other was a small, newer looking SUV.
"Maybe I can stick around a bit, if that's cool with you," he said as he began walking over to the cars. Confused, Meg followed. She watched Jazz as he crouched down beside the cars, examining them. Then he reached out with a single claw and touched the small Mazda Tribute. Everyone jumped at the sound of the car alarm blaring to life.
A loud bang came from inside the house and Meg knew that there was no question that her mom was up. There was the sudden sound of metal grinding and hydraulics working and when Meg looked at Jazz she saw him falling in on himself, folding up until he formed a car. She was so amazed at seeing his transformation it took her a while for her mind to register when her mom came out of the house.
"What the hell is going on here?!" she yelled over the blaring car alarm. Her dark hair was a bit frizzy and she clutched her robe to her body. Meg spun around and stared at her mom.
"Andrew," was the reflexive response. Whenever she had gotten in trouble she always fell on that one name to get herself out of it. Too bad he wasn't there to actually lay the blame on.
"What do you mean 'Andrew'? He's not here…but that strange car is." Meg winced, hoping that Jazz wouldn't be insulted and realize that her mom was referring to a new car rather than a weird looking car.
"Um… it's his car. He won a contest. At the mall. Near his college. You know how those malls have those drawings were you can win a new car? Well, he won it."
"So what's it doing here?" The car alarm had gone into a repetition of the loud annoying tones and Meg had a bizarre image that those tones had a tattle-tale laughing quality to it.
"You know how those frat guys can get so jealous. Remember how they vandalized his friend's convertible? Andrew didn't want the same thing to happen to his new car." Oh, the lies were flowing so freely. Hopefully the super mom abilities didn't start kicking in.
Luck was with Meg and Jazz at that moment. Jeanne eyed her daughter suspiciously before walking back into the house while announcing that she was going back inside to get the keys to turn the car's still blaring alarm off. After it ended its blaring, the little SUV beeped twice in a perky tone as if happy to have ratted Meg out.
As soon as Jeanne returned to bed, Meg ran inside and up into her room. She grabbed her cell phone on her desk before running back outside, taking the stairs two at a time so quickly that she was on the verge of running ahead of herself and falling right down. The reason for the hurry was that Meg had to make sure that she talked to Andrew before her mom did. Once she was outside, and assured that her mom would be unable to eavesdrop, Meg punched in her brother's phone number. She could care less if she woke him up since it was early for him in the morning. In fact, she would take joy in it considering that the odds were he was hung over from drinking all night with his friends. Of course that may deter him from helping her.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he picked up almost immediately, his voice clear and not groggy from just having woken up.
"I need your help," Meg said before her brother could even say hello. She eyed Jazz warily but he did nothing to prove that he was anything other than a perfectly normal car. She wondered whether he was listening in on this conversation and was somewhat annoyed that she couldn't tell if he was when he was in this form. Not that she could read his expressions when he was in his other form.
"What is it this time?" her brother asked in a weary sigh.
"I just need to you to say that you won a new Pontiac Solstice in a drawing from the mall."
"I won a Solstice?!" Meg narrowed her eyes in disbelief and slightly shook her head. Andrew was so good at pretending to be stupid that one sometimes wondered if it really was just an act. Like how Hamlet pretended to be mad and then in fact went mad.
"No, I just need you to say you did and you're keeping it here at home."
"Did you win it then?" The question made Meg pause, considering if she should lie to her brother. She hated lying to Andrew but she knew that if she was caught, it wasn't fair to needlessly drag him down with her.
"Yeah, I did. But they don't know I'm not eighteen yet because I lied about my age."
"Oh…Do I have to pay for insurance?"
"No, all you have to say is that it's yours."
"What about gas?"
"No," Meg spat, her patience starting to be replaced by her temper.
"Tune-ups?"
"No!"
"Spinning chrome rims and bass so loud that it'll blow a girl's clothes off?"
"What?!" Meg cried, not believing her brother even said that. "NO!"
"Oh…damn. Would have been okay about that last one…When I come home can I drive it?"
"No."
Then I don't see how I can pass it off as mine. I mean, I would be driving my own car."
"Fine, you jerk. You can take it for a drive," she said while eyeing Jazz.
"All right then. You better be taking good care of MY car. How fast can it go?"
"I don't know and I'm not planning on you finding out."
"We'll see about that. Oh, and Meg…you so owe me."
"This will be for the time that I didn't tell Mom and Dad that you got a $500 ticket for reckless driving again."
"Brat."
"Punk."
"Spoiled princess."
"Stupid jock."
"I'll talk to you later?"
"Yeah, bye. Love you."
"Love you too, Megs."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Meg ended the call. She didn't realize until after the phone conversation, when everything was silent in the brisk morning air, that her heart was pounding in her chest. Meg tentatively placed her fingers lightly over her heart and felt the rhythmic drumming beneath her touch.
Jeanne circled the Solstice, her lips pursed in concentration as her brown eyes examined the sports car in front of her. After two circles in opposite directions she finished her examination and gave her head a slight nod of approval.
"It's a nice car," she said. Meg dumbly nodded her head, wondering what Jazz was thinking. She was still amazed at how well he could pass off as a normal car; both physically and the amount of patience it took to be so absolutely still. Meg wondered what it took to get him to move.
"Well, I'm going into town to run some errands and I won't be back for a few hours."
"Ok. See you later."
"I wonder if Andrew would mind if I took his new car," Jeanne contemplated. Meg's eyes widened and she started scrambling for ways to convince her mom not to take Jazz out.
"I don't think Andrew would be too happy with that."
"I'm his mother, I override him." Meg's mouth started gawking, begging words to come out.
"Where are the keys?"
"I don't know. The delivery guys didn't give them to me." Jeanne stopped right as she was reaching for the driver's door handle. Something Meg had said triggered something.
"Why did they deliver it so late at night?" she asked, turning her head to give Meg a suspicious look.
"They were running late. I thought about waking you up but you were out cold."
"I wonder why Andrew didn't tell me it was coming at least." Meg's immediate response was to lay the blame on her brother but she didn't need their mom lecturing him when he was risking so much by lying for her.
"I forgot to tell you."
"You forgot to tell me a car like this was coming?"
"He didn't tell me what kind it was. I guess he wanted it to be a surprise." Jeanne scrutinized over her daughter before relenting. Meg was never so happy for the super mom abilities to be off. After examining her daughter, Jeanne reached over to the handle.
"Well, I'm just going to take it out and see how it rides." Oh, who said that women didn't like fast cars too?
Meg was trying to come up with more protests but she didn't have to. When Jeanne pulled on the door handle, there was no response. Apparently Jazz couldn't be manipulated and for the moment this made Meg the happiest girl in the world. The last thing she wanted was for her mom to be driving around in an alien that for all Meg knew could really be lethal. Luckily Jazz seemed to be agreeing with Meg on the not being driven part. His reasons, however, were completely different to Meg's.
For Jazz it was a matter that he had never had someone inside him, let alone driving him. It was an experience he was hesitant about going through. The idea of being driven wasn't exactly something he was fond of. Not to mention, at the moment, there wasn't a human he trusted enough to allow that privilege. Meg was proving to be the human he would most likely earn his trust but for the moment, he didn't know her long enough.
Jeanne frowned at the car, tugging harder. Jazz chuckled to himself. There was no way that the human was going to win this tug of war. A small part of him wanted to see her try though. Meg watched her mom with wide eyes for a long while before speaking up.
"I bet they accidentally left the keys in the car. Why don't you take the Tribute and I'll worry about getting the keys out." Jeanne stopped her futile tugging and said her agreement. After pulling the SUV's keys out from her purse, she gave her daughter a kiss on the check before going over to the vehicle she would be driving. With a disappointed look at the Solstice, she drove away.
Meg and Jazz watched the plumes of dirt billowing behind the Tribute as it drove down the lane which led to the main road in front of the ranch. Even after it disappeared beneath the tunnel of oaks lining the lane, the pair was silent.
Jazz was the first to move. Wordlessly he swung his driver door open and this action immediately caught Meg's attention. However the girl just watched him, not catching the hint as to what he wanted. Through his interior speakers, Jazz spoke up.
"My keys are in the ignition. They're purely for show and just because you use them it doesn't mean I have to abide. Take 'em in case you need 'em." Meg was hesitant as she walked around the open door and stooped inside the cab. She didn't want to evade his privacy, she could only imagine what it felt like to have someone touching inside of her, but she wasn't able to reach the ignition without at least bracing herself on the smooth leather seat.
It really was like any other car with the exception of a mechanical looking face in the place of the Pontiac insignia in the center of the steering wheel. The grey interior was smooth, sleek, and rather simple. The only faux wood was a rather narrow strip right above the stereo system. Meg barely repressed a groan when she saw that Jazz had a stick shift. There was most definitely no way that she was ever going to drive him, not when she barely knew how to work a stick and the last time she did, her father nearly had a heart attack from how she almost ruined the truck.
After carefully extracting the simple keys from the ignition, Meg's eyes lingered on the stereo. Two questions had formed in her mind and they really had nothing to do with one another but everything to do with Jazz. First of all, the music junkie inside of her wondered how good of a system Jazz had. The other question was just how he was named 'Jazz'.
"What?" Jazz asked through his speakers, curious as to why the girl was staring thoughtfully at this stereo system.
"I was just…wondering."
"Bout what?"
"Um, nothing."
"Don't lie."
"I was thinking about…your name."
"What about my name?"
"Well, it's just that as far as I know, jazz music is distinctively American and I don't see how you could have that name because I highly doubt that you have jazz music on Cybertron."
"You're an observant girl. No, we don't have jazz music and we don't really have what you would identify as music. When my unit came here we had to pick an alias that closely translated with our real designation. My name means a certain rhythm of sounds back on Cybertron that closely resembled the beats found in a jazz song that I found on the world wide web. Hence, I made my alias Jazz."
"That makes sense... I think. So your name isn't really Jazz."
"It isn't. But I once heard that 'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet'."
