Maelstrom 1

Homecoming: Part 2

Author's note: This story is part of a LONG series called Maelstrom. It is strictly Gen. 1 - sorry, but that was all that was out when I started writing. If you have not read the nine original Maelstrom Comics and the preceding text stories, I strongly suggest you do. They can be found at http// illmatar. deviantart. com I have put double spaces between the addy here or FF . Net eats the link.

This scene contains strong language and violence. Rated M for adult themes! Really! Transformers characters belong to Hasbro. Critiques adored!

After a few skeptical hours at the Witwicky residence, they were heading for Optimus' office. Spike had managed to arrange a meeting, although Rodimus could tell from the length of the private conversation, and Spike's carefully hidden frustration, that it hadn't been very easy. Rodimus felt nervous and a little damp from Carli's tearful greeting.

Ironically, the more nervous he got, the less it showed. He'd always tended to hide his fears, but the Jabez had turned that tendency into an insurmountable compulsion. He was more afraid now of his closest friends than he'd even been of the Decepticons. He feared they wouldn't accept him. He feared somehow that he wouldn't be able to accept them. Mostly, he feared Optimus would turn those over-insightful optics on him and see the pain inside.

The Matrix frightened him too - even more than usual. It had always unnerved him with the responsibility it represented, but now more than even, he sensed the fragility of the lives in his hands. Things were so different - HE was so different. What would it make of the things he'd learned, felt, and endured? Should he avoid it altogether? Could he?

All of his fretting came to an abrupt end when they arrived at Prime's private office.

"Big doors," Rodimus muttered as they approached.

Spike laughed. "Looks a little different from down here, doesn't it Rodi?"

"You'll be fine," Lancer said, more to his internal concerns than his worries about his height. The doors opened, and the three humans approached Optimus desk. It look like a small building to Rodimus, and his partner face loomed in the distance behind it. Prime sat with his fingers laced, and seemed to glare a little as they approached. Lancer scanned him. There was no sign of Conversion.

"Welcome Spike," Optimus said, not sounding like he meant it at all. "Now, what was so important that it couldn't wait?"

Spike frowned a little, but didn't seem too surprised by Op's cold tone. He didn't quite know how to answer Prime's question though. "Um...well..you see..." He heard a strange noise and glanced curiously at Lancer.

Rodimus covered for her quickly. "It's OK, Spike. I'll take it from here." Lancer quit growling.

He's rude!

Something's wrong. Lay off, OK?! And give me a leg up! Rodimus insisted.

Fine. Have it your way, she sent, lacing her fingers. She turned to face away from Optimus and braced her legs. Rodimus took a silent running step towards her, planted his foot firmly on her interlaced fingers, and pushed off. With impeccable timing, she lifted her arms at the same instant, adding her force to the spring of his powerful legs. Their combined effort launched him into the air. He turned a neat somersault, and landed gracefully on his feet in front of an astonished, slightly outraged Autobot commander.

Optimus was about to sputter some indignant protests about this insolent human jumping on his desk, when Rodimus met his eyes, and the Matrix suddenly sent urgent pulses of recognition through him.

The young man on the desk quirked an ironic eyebrow, and smiled. "Is it safe?" he asked facetiously with his arms crossed over his chest. He was suddenly very relaxed and in command of himself again. Optimus gazed at him without moving for almost three minutes. When he finally did speak, it was without any preamble or question about who he was addressing. He knew.

"I was sure you were dead. I felt you die. If the Matrix didn't know you, no amount of arguing could convince me of anything else. I...I... Welcome home partner."

Spike smiled in satisfaction. It had been a long time since he'd heard such warmth in Optimus' voice, and he suddenly felt as if the Autobot's had just gotten BOTH of their leaders back. He happened to glance at the strange young woman who'd brought Rodimus home at that instant. She was staring, oblivious to his scrutiny, up at the reunion on the desk. She had a strange, sad smile on her lips, as if this moment caused her both pleasure and sorrow. Spike wondered who she really was, and where she'd come from.

"Rodimus. What happened to you? You've been gone for so long!" Optimus asked, wondering if the months of grief had really been necessary. The effect of his question on Rodi's face told Optimus more than Rodi's soft answer.

"If you don't know, then I assume you haven't heard any word of Goldbug," the young human said, looking away.

"NO! We thought you were both dead!! Is Goldbug alive?!"

Rodimus didn't answer, and from the cold blank look on his face, Optimus wasn't even sure he heard the question. Rodimus wore no real expression at all, but suddenly the distant anguish Optimus had felt through the Matrix had a clear focus. It had happened. Whatever had caused so much pain had been real - not some part of Optimus' own over-taxed imagination. The months of doubting his own sanity dissipated, and were replaced by fears of an even darker sort.

Lancer stiffened. "Hey. HEY!" she said urgently. With a faint growl, she leapt up, catching her nails on the edge of Op's desk, and swinging herself up, and over. She landed in front of Rodi, her back to Optimus, and grabbed him by the arms. She shook him slightly as she spoke.

"He's dead or on Maelstrom, Rodimus. That's it! There's no third option! Do you hear me?! NONE!" She said firmly, conviction in her every syllable. Rope it in Rodi. she sent to him, when he refused to meet her eyes. She half turned to look at Optimus over her shoulder - keeping her body between Op and his partner. Optimus found her attitude strangely protective and wondered who she was.

"Look," she said in decisive tones. "we need to do this later. We are tired, hungry, and we're wearing the grime from every space port in the parsect. I'm sure there are other people who will need to hear this story - and it's a long one. Why don't you see to getting them together while we clean up?" She glared at him slightly - as if daring him to challenge her.

"Ah.." Optimus said, still a little too shaken to handle this brazen human on top of his partner's return. "And you are?"

Rodimus was suddenly all smiles, "Oops! Forgot my manners. Optimus, this is Lancer. I owe her my life, and maybe even my sanity."

Lancer wrinkled her nose at Rodi, and gave Op a knowing smirk. "The jury's still out on the sanity, Laser Brains," she said to Rodimus. "Hello Optimus. Sorry to be so abrupt. I've heard SO much about you, I feel like I know you already."

Optimus found himself nearly taken in by the sudden change in their attitudes, but he's worked with Rodimus long enough to know how deviously his partner employed his smile. OK, partner, if that's how you want to play it, Optimus thought. Aloud he chuckled softly. "Told you all about us did he?" Optimus asked after they gave him a very brief, and he sensed, very edited summary of what happened.

"Enough and then some!" Lancer laughed. "Seriously though, we really do need to eat."

Rodimus made such a face that Optimus was alarmed. "Yugh. We don't really NEED to," he said.

"WHAT?!" Lancer retorted, poking him in the chest. "You didn't think you'd get to stop eating the minute we touched down on Cybertron did you?" She continued to poke him in time to her words.

"Ouch," Rodi said, "Well, I had hoped..."

Lancer turned to look at Optimus over her shoulder again. "He's an idiot. How did you ever manage to put up with him?"

Optimus smiled behind his face mask. "Oh, we managed somehow."

"Remarkable," Lancer quipped lightly.

"Oh nice!" Rodimus exclaimed, trying unsuccessfully to sound hurt. "Thanks so much, both of you! Tell me again why I wanted to come home?"

"You hate my cooking." Lancer said primly.

"Oh yeah," Rodimus said, smiling, as they both headed for the edge of the desk.

Silently, Lancer asked, Do you think he bought it?

Not in nine million years. Rodimus responded. He could feel his partner's optics boring into his back as he and Lancer startled Spike by flipping lightly off the desk.