MISTAKES CAN BE POSITIVE
PORTLAND
18: 42 P.M
Anne stood in front of the tall mirror in her bedroom, and checked over her appearance. She wore a long navy dress, with long sleeves, and a v-neckline. Her hair was in a tight bun. She sighed.
While she may not technically be going out with Prowl, it still felt like she was… well cheating.
Which was absurd. She had only met the mech about… the human hadn't really kept track of time. Maybe two and a half weeks? Either way. He'd probably be glad to be rid of her. Be rid of the desperate old lady…
Why was her mind always so cruel to her?
Anne shook away her thoughts. If this went well with Michael then… she would have a lot to think about. She still had to consider Prowl. He was a nice… Bot. But then Michael was human. There would be fewer complications with him.
A knock at the door drew her attention, and Dave stepped in. He rarely needed to wait for her permission to enter, as he knew that there was a very unlikely chance she would reply, "Mam, the car is ready."
Miss Parker shook her head, "I'm gonna drive. It would be better than pulling up in a private car. Wouldn't want him assuming too much right?"
The man sometimes never knew how to reply to her. So, he opted for nodding instead, and left the room, intent on getting to his own home as soon as possible.
Anne hurried down the stairs. While she was lucky to have this fortune, she sometimes wondered if it was too much. In truth, it hadn't been her idea to start this company, and she had actually had help. A start up fund had been supplied to her by a close friend from her past. If not for him, she'd be just like her siblings. Most likely in debt, but actually in a relationship.
She paused, "Damn it!" Now she was angry at the guy who made her rich.
Flinging open the door, she stood on the threshold of her house and stared at the changing colours of evening. It was only August, but night would soon be dominating the early and later hours of the day, as winter approached.
Drawing in a breath, she stalked over to her car, locking the door behind her. It was not a very fancy vehicle – specifically for tonight's evening.
Pulling onto the road, she made her way to the specific destination. The restaurant it had been set at was… ok… but she had been to better. Maybe he was cheap.
Anne wanted to hit herself. This was not about money, this was about meeting a potential guy, while the other… 'Guy'… was oblivious of this.
She now felt disgusted with herself. She had turned into her siblings. Going behind the backs of other… beings.
Pulling a sharp turn into a parking space, she craned her neck to see into the large windows of the restaurant. But it was a fruitless attempt. She didn't even know what this guy looked like. All that her sister had said was: "Just tell the guy's name to the guy."
Anne had replied with: "Who's the guy?"
After a while it was eventually figured out that she had to give Michael's name to the concierge. She wondered why her sister had no knowledge of that title, seen as Alex had been married to a concierge at one point. Which then later ended in an ugly divorce. And a restraining order.
Getting out of the vehicle – and remembering to lock it behind her – Miss Parker made her way to the entrance. Unfortunately there was a line. A long line.
She sighed, and waited for this to be over with. Great start to the night. She listened in on the menial conversations of the couples. Couples who apparently couldn't afford to go to any other restaurant in this goddamn town.
She may have been labeled desperate by a lot of people, didn't mean she had unlimited amounts of patience. She was – in a way – a human being, and they were known to be… well impatient.
After finally becoming second in line, she waited for the two people in front of her to finish up. But they were taking forever.
"Uh, hi yeah could we get a seat by the window?" The female asked. Anne sighed in annoyance. The concierge informed them that there was no available seating there. Miss Parker wondered why they simply didn't reserve.
"Oh… well is there any chance of making it possible? This is kind of important." The man pressed instead. The brunette behind them knew that this was going to take a while unless she did something.
"Hey, buddy?" She tapped his shoulder. He turned to her. "I'll give you five hundred bucks to just get moving. You're keeping up everyone here, and it's not fair on us. Just accept whatever table they have, and be on your way." She put on one of those 'Evidently pissed off' smiles.
He took offense. "Look… Miss…" He hesitated in saying the last part. "This is very important, and I would like it if everything goes as planned." He hissed so that the lady with him didn't hear.
Anne lost the smile. "Then maybe you should have made a reservation."
"I didn't know what place she would have liked to go to. It was-" He made to reply, but was stopped.
"It was on a whim. You got really lucky with someone, don't destroy that too soon. All I want is to see this guy I'm meeting while the other guy I went out with has no idea! It's to complicated to explain, but I will only be a minute. Ok?" She glared up at him, but he refused to move.
Now thoroughly ticked off – and getting more so by the minute – the brunette shoved past him and his date and stood in front of the concierge. "Hi, I'm here to see Michael Derse." She relayed. He had an impassive expression – very similar to Prowl, she noted.
"Mam, there was somebody here before you. Please return to the back of the line." He was now at the top of her 'One day I am going to sue you' list. Anne scowled. So far this night sucked. So she lowered herself to bribery.
Pulling out a wad of cash from her bag, she handed it over to him. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. Hesitating slightly, he looked back at her. "Mam, I cannot accept this. Please…" His gaze lingered on the cash before snapping out of it. "Return to the back of the line."
Miss Parker resisted the urge to gawk. Who turns down that much money? Especially with his job, he most likely needed it. An idea then popped into her head – not one she would like to actually use and there was a very high chance it may not work, but…
"What's your last name?" She asked. His head jerked back in slight surprise before replying.
"Uh… Spencer." He answered. The organic femme in question cursed then went to stand behind the couple previously in front of her, hiding the cash away.
Well, he wasn't an ex-husband to her sister, and she didn't know any of her employees with that last name. Plan unsuccessful.
After five minutes for the two in front to accept seats, her temper had grown dramatically. When the concierge turned his attention to her, she was openly scowling. He nodded at her slowly, knowing what she was here for and led her to the table.
The inside of the restaurant was nicely lit, sending off an almost gold glow. The tables were wooden, and the cutlery was laid out decently. She reserved further judgment for later that night, when she witnessed service.
The man she would be meeting had his back to her, and was fiddling with an empty wineglass. Well, at least he had the decency to wait for her. From what Anne could discern, he had light brown hair, much lighter than her own. That was about it.
She walked ahead of the man escorting her, and came into the line of sight of… Michael Derse. The first thought that came to mind was stereotypically who movies come up with for the heroine to fall in love with. Perfectly sculpted facial features, clean shave, brushed hair, muscles – literally no imperfections whatsoever.
He stood up and smiled – perfectly straight and white teeth – and offered his hand out to her. "Hello, you must be Anne. I am Michael. Your sister has told me much about you."
"Wish I could say the same." She muttered, but returned the smile. He moved to pull out her seat, but she beat him to it. Dave never did it for her, so it was simply habit. Smiling again – this time awkwardly – he returned to his own seat.
A brief silence claimed them before a waiter came over to take their drink choices. As was per usual for a restaurant.
Michael answered first. "A Cabernet Sauvignon please."
Anne raised an eyebrow at that. Where the hell did Alex find this guy? She turned her attention to the waiter. "Can I get a martini?" It was so simple compared to his. By name though, not by make.
"Yes mam." He left, and they once again lapsed into silence.
The femme shifted uncomfortably, and tried to distract herself. This had a déjà vu feel to it. Like when she first went out with Prowl. Maybe she could try out that conversation again.
"Want to complain about the people we work with?" The brunette asked. He blinked at the strange question.
"Uh… I like the people I work with." Michael replied. Right. Of course he did. There was nothing wrong with him. He was friends with everyone.
"Okay…" She trailed off in frustration, and opted instead for eavesdropping on other conversations and pretending that they were talking to her.
Mr. Derse noticed her growing lack of interest in him, and tried to correct that. "So… what do you do for a living?" Of course he knew the answer to that! If her sister told him a lot about her there really should be no doubt in this!
But for the sake of it, Anne didn't question him. "I own a company. You?"
"I'm a private attorney." Of course he is! Add lots of sarcasm.
Well at least they were getting somewhere. "Do you have any siblings?" The darker haired organic asked him.
He nodded. "I have three brothers and two sisters. Other than your sister, how many do you have?"
"I try not to think about it. Better that than having to remember all of their names." She made a joke and he laughed. Finally. We are moving forward.
Now – as per the fact that the drinks may take a while to arrive – we shall cut off from their conversation as I do not have a lot of topics lined up to cover the next six sections. We will swing over to the Autobots, and see what they are doing, as this Fanfic has been placed in the Transformers category, and that is what you deserve.
THE ARK
20: 19 P.M
Jazz lay on his bunk, listening to blaring music. He was bored. His shift had just ended for the night, but now he had nothing to do. Even though he could have completed several reports that were late in.
He didn't need to recharge at the moment, and he had already refueled. So that left…
/: Hey Prowler:/ To annoy Prowl.
He didn't get a reply, and knew the Praxian was ignoring him. But he did not relent /: What ya doin'?:/
A weary and tired sigh came across the line /: Jazz, please do not interrupt me. I have to complete three days of work by tonight. And that is increasingly hard with you pestering me:/
/: Why are ya tryin' ta complete three days of work in one day?:/
/: So that I do not garner to much backlog when I meet Anne on the earth day Tuesday:/ He answered without thinking. Jazz raised an optic ridge.
/: So… ya're worki' yarself ta death ta meet this girl?:/
/: I would not say working to death- :/ The SIC began to reply, but was cut off by the saboteur.
/: Mech ya really like her:/ He exclaimed. In his office, Prowl flinched.
/: Yes. She is a… friend of mine. I enjoy conversing with her on different topics- :/ He was again interrupted by his friend.
/: Nah! Ah mean like, ya like like 'er:/ His cryptic words made no sense to the tactician.
/: Jazz I have a very fragile emotional and logic cortex. Please explain in a way that I may be able to understand without being sent into a crash:/
/: Ah mean that ya have feelin's for 'er:/
It took a moment for what the master spy meant to seep into his hazy processor, but when it did, he immediately defended himself /: What? I can assure you that that is not the case:/
/: Just keep lyin' ta yarself mech. It don't change tha truth:/
Another sigh came across the line /: Jazz if you have nothing better to do, please go for a drive in the earth city and make sure there are no Decepticons:/ With a click the communication was cut.
The TIC took that into mind. Why hadn't he thought about that before?
Shutting off the music as he knew other Bots in the Ark may be recharging, the saboteur stalked to the opening of the ship and transformed.
Jazz enjoyed the human customs. Far too much for his own good at times, usually introducing things to the Autobots that nobody could make heads or tales of.
He liked the cities, and the buzzing of its night life. Yet at the same time, it was also dangerous as a lot of the young people got behind the wheel of their vehicle extremely intoxicated.
Which then resulted in many accidents.
He reached the roads of Portland and began the unofficial look out for 'Cons. While also not looking out for 'Cons, as he was enjoying watching the humans interact with each other and the environment around them.
There were only a few Bots who hadn't embraced part of the human experience. Hound enjoyed nature, Wheeljack explored human mechanics, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe exploited the organics large foray of pranking ideas etc.
And Jazz explored the musical side of this strange species.
He rounded a corner, and saw what looked like a street parade. Instantly he took up parking and began to watch. Human culture. Nobody would ever understand it. They had so many religions it was incredible. The Cybertronians only had one and it was basically a proven fact. They never had a war over religion. The humans seemed to have one every century.
A shower of sparks erupted from where the parade was, and Jazz was ready to intervene. But relaxed when he realised it was only a special effect.
Ah, humans.
Anne and Michael left the restaurant and stood on the sidewalk, silently watching the show. They had not been here when the femme arrived, but apparently they were now. It seemed like a cheap event, but was attracting viewers.
He turned towards her and smiled – again – "I had fun tonight."
She hesitated. "Uh… yeah, so did I. the food was good."
"You sure you're okay to drive?" He asked. She did have quite a few martinis. Mainly so that she could make free conversation with him.
The brunette waved it off. "I'll be fine. When I was twenty one, I drove all the way to Seattle totally drunk. Didn't hit a single car or break the rules. Though when I woke up it was very… unnerving. I didn't remember anything from the night before."
He stared at her. "Well… then how did you know that you didn't hit anything or disobey any rules?"
"Oh, my mother was with me at the time." Was explanation enough. Michael nodded slowly, and then held out a slip of paper. She took it and read it over. A bunch of numbers which were probably a phone number.
She glanced up at him. "What are we, sixteen?"
He laughed at that. "I would like to do this again sometime. Whenever you're free, just call." With that he waved goodbye and left to wherever his car was.
Anne considered the piece of paper. "Maybe." Slipping it into her bag, she made to her own car.
And stopped when the place it had been parked was empty. There was no vehicle in sight. But this was a normal parking spa-
Oh... nope. Parking for thirty minutes only.
Damn.
But outwardly, she swore much worse. "SON OF A-!" You finish it off.
Jazz heard the loud shout and his attention was torn away from the parade to where it came from. He stopped in confusion when he saw the girl that had totally consumed his friend, swearing at a blank spot.
Deciding that the show on the street was no longer entertaining, he drove over to the angry femme. He stopped right in front of her, and she glared at the car, not knowing it was a giant alien robot.
That was until he spoke. "Hey, Miss Parker. What are ya doin' 'ere?"
She jumped back in shock at the suave voice and – instead of glaring – stared at the vehicular mode of the TIC.
"Uh… do I know you?"
"Pit yeah. Ah'm friends wit' Prowl!" He replied. She relaxed visibly.
"Oh, well that's good. I thought somebody had come to kill me."
A single thought went through his processor: Why would anyone want to kill you? What do you do in your spare time that would make anyone want to kill you?
He asked a different question though. "Why are ya screaming at a parkin' space?"
"Oh…" She put a hand to the back of her neck. "My car got towed."
"Oh…"
"Yeah… hey, I don't suppose you could give me a ride back to my house? If it's not to much of a bother." She reassured the last part. The saboteur was a moment in replying, as he wanted to figure out what it was about this particular organic that had Prowl actually wanting to socialize with her.
"Of course ya can. Hop in. Where do ya live?" He asked. She told him the address and he looked up that location. Jazz whistled in surprise. "Nice place ya got there."
"Helps when you're rich. So, what are you doing out here?" Anne made conversation as they peeled away from the sidewalk and into oncoming traffic. They pulled out in front of a large lorry, and picked up speed.
"Ah was bored, and pesterin' Prowl wasn't workin'." A laugh was the expected response. Miss Parker stared out of the window afterward, and then seemed lost in thought. Remembering his objective, the saboteur restarted conversation.
"What are ya doin' 'ere?" He asked her. She replied without thinking, something that was happening far too frequently.
"I was meeting a guy." Her hand instantly went over her mouth. Jazz may have only been on this planet for four million and two years – with four million of those years dead – he knew enough to know that when an earth female says that – thank you movies and Carly's helpful pieces of advice – it was usually a more romantic thing. Especially with her reaction.
"Hmm… and who was this 'Guy'?" He asked, suspicion now claiming him. The human now knew that there was no way to hide this from the master spy, and relented.
"My sister set me up with him. His name is Michael Derse, and… truthfully he is kind of boring." Ah, girl talk with an alien robot. No this is definitely normal.
"Then… are ya gonna see him again?" Good Jazz, play along. She shrugged absentmindedly, thinking about it.
"I don't know. Maybe? It's just… it would be easier with him. He's human, and I'm human. He wouldn't outlive me by a few billion years." Her reply stumped him. From what he could discern about human love – and movies – was that even if you were near death, as long as you loved somebody, everything was pretty much fine. That was freaking cheesy even by romance fanatics standards.
"But it doesn't seem like ya're very interested in 'im." He pointed out. She nodded, accepting that fact at face value. There was literally nothing wrong with the guy she just met. He had no flaws. He ate perfectly, he talked perfectly, and he was the definition of 'Perfect'. And that sucked worse than if he was a drug addict.
Ok, maybe not that drastic.
"Then Ah don't understand." The mech stated. Anne sighed, and stared at the steering wheel – which every single human does because apparently, that is where they think they are talking to!
"I don't think I do either. I mean… I'm sure Prowl would probably be grateful to be rid of me." Mental conversation from earlier now becomes actual reality. "No more desperate old lady to annoy him." Notice how she has never actually had any other conversation with Jazz up till this point, yet somehow feels totally fine talking about her emotions with him. This was the power of being such a laid back Bot. Everybody just opened up to you. This helped with his job in Special Ops.
"Why would ya think that?" He demanded, and his change in demeanor surprised her. He was previously being the one who she could talk to, now he was defending his friend. "Prowl has been totally besotted by ya since he first met ya. He may not show it outwardly, but it's pretty obvious to anyone who's been around him. Tha mech hardly ever leaves 'is office, but now he's workin' harder than ever just so that he can meet ya."
Pause for one moment.
Yes, while this is slightly different than normal past writings where romance takes a long time, I am trying something new here, and going straight into it. Anyone who has read 'Objectives' can tell you that this is a very different romance plot, as in the other one it takes nearly thirty chapters to get anywhere. For the past few days, I have been reading up on other works, and then rereading my own, and I notice that a lot of the time, I am particularly emotionless. I literally have no descriptive powers at all when it comes to this. Sure fighting, I can give you brutal injuries etc. This? Not so much. So I am trying to rectify that when it comes to more relationship status.
Back to story.
Anne blinked at this revelation. "Wow… I didn't know. He's… besotted with me?" She really did not know how to react to a situation like this. It had never happened before in her whole life. That is sad. Even I have had a guy like me, and I don't date. But seriously? She had a terrible adolescence.
"But jus' as a heads up, there is a very slim chance Prowl'll admit this. Unless desperate. But that doesn't happen." Her mind was still reeling so she simply nodded, mouth hanging open slightly, and eyes glazed over as multiple thoughts went through her mind.
Jazz noted that they had arrived at the expensive complex. He scanned the rows of large houses till coming to the one that the femme lived in. he opened the door for her and she get out, composing herself. "Thank you Jazz. For everything." – This line is in nearly everything ever.
Had he been in his bipedal mode, he would've smiled at the organic. Or his trademark grin. Either one would do.
"It's fine. Hey, quick question?" He stopped her before she could leave. Glancing at him, as Anne turned away, she nodded for him to continue. "Uh… what are ya and Prowler doin' on Tuesday?"
"We're going hiking." She replied. At this, Jazz's engine stalled.
"Hikin'?" He couldn't believe it. Hiking. Prowl would be hiking. He wondered if the Pit had frozen over as well, and if Megatron had decided to come to a ceasefire. He also wondered if the Ark was miraculously fixed properly. It was simply not heard of.
Apparently, the organic femme seemed to sense his thoughts. "What's so spectacular about that? It's just around the volcano. Then maybe to whatever forest is closest."
"Nah, it's not that," He made to reassure her. "Ah've just never thought that Prowl would actually go hikin'. He's not one o' those mechs who go out much."
She shrugged, and a grin graced her own expression. "Well maybe I'll just have to change that. Also, why Prowler?" She shook her head in disbelief at the nickname, then walked back towards the house, waving goodbye.
He waited for her to enter the house, and then began to drive away, her last sentence hanging in the air. Not the 'Prowler' thing the one before that. Well maybe I'll just have to change that.
There had been a surety to her voice. Almost as if she was intent on doing so.
Well maybe I'll just have to change that.
He wondered if she realised that she already had.
PORTLAND
23: 42 P.M
Michael sat in his apartment, a glass of wine in his hand as he thought over the night's events. Truthfully, the owner of a large corporation was not what he had been expecting. Her sister had stated that she had been desperate – very dependable sibling – and yet her demeanor was more aloof and distracted.
Putting down the glass, he reached for his laptop – just go along with it. Yes it is 1986 but half the time we need these things just to make a point – and typed in 'Anne Parker' there were several references. The first few were on the owner of a mega corporation, the others were on suing charges she had been charged with, and then others were just internet accounts – but he highly doubted that it was her. Anne Parker was a very common name. There were bound to be hundreds of people with the same name. The only thing that made her different was the fact that she was rich.
Incredibly rich.
And not stuck in a small apartment like he was. Yes, being a private accountant paid alright, but it couldn't afford a mansion. Not like her money could.
Of course there were other aspects of her that were okay. She looked half decent for her age. That was about it for him.
In these dire times, money was what brought people together. And that is actually still true today. Can you imagine how many females are kicking themselves for not going out with Bill Gates when he was in school? Now he's a multibillionaire and they are probably stuck as boring housewives. Along with the few who went on to get a job.
He reclined on the tan sofa in his sparse living room and sighed. What he would give to be out of his boring job and living the high life. Why are there only a few people to ever accomplish great feats such as this? Although there may be many people to own a company, but if you looked them up, they did exist. Did he exist? According to the internet, no he did not.
Standing up, he went to the main window in the room, and looked at the brick wall view that he had. If that building in front of is didn't exist, he'd have a pretty good view of the city. But as fate would have it.
A phone rang and he instantly answered it. "Hello? Yes James… I'm working on it… don't you worry. I'll have it as soon as possible."
He hung up.
PLEASE REVIEW
Don't hit me!
Yes I am one day late, and I am totally sorry, but I found this you tube video, and could not look away. Most entertaining thing I have ever watched.
I have also been working on several other Fanfics, so I am sorry for the delay. I'll hopefully have the other Fics out soon, and most of them are one shots. I'm kind of trying to shore up the number of how many stories I've written. I'm up against a friend, so yeah.
Anyway, I want to thank the people who reviewed last chapter:
2211Nighthawk
kittycatcalamity
FallingLBet
Guest – It shall be explained in later chapters. Also, thank you for the suggestions on those movies. I will take them into account, as it will be a rather entertaining spectacle.
Neon – sorry, no cliché sentence today unfortunately. But that probably would have happened if so.
And anyone else who has previously reviewed, or favourite/ followed the Fanfic. Any suggestions or ideas are great, and please review. Also to anybody who reads Objectives, I shall try to get the new chapter out as soon as possible. My mind has kind of been focused on other stuff. I cut it really close to wrapping Christmas presents. Again, Please review!