Getter closer now. Thanks to everyone for your reviews, faves/watches, and not to mention patience! I am incredibly grateful.
And now, for your entertainment: fluffy filler.
The quote is from Arthur Rubinstein; the song used is © Matt Nathanson.
Secondhand Sparks
Chapter Three: The Formula For Success
"There is no formula for success except perhaps an unconditional acceptance of life and what it brings."
The Captain remained somewhat elusive during their stay, preferring the solitude of her study over the three boisterous youngsters. She claimed it was better for her back if she kept hard labor to a minimum, despite her blatant display of health the day of their arrival. A cracked spine was nothing to sneer at, Mikaela knew, but the truth was that Alexis just wasn't the social type. This didn't stop Sam from pestering her relentlessly, attempting to drag her outside to work on sand sculptures and teach them poker. She put up with it, to an extent, but she had grown up with three older brothers and knew how to deal with irritating man-children.
For her part, Mikaela was content to see her at meals and in passing, letting the woman have her space. Alexis would venture out every so often, to catch a part of whatever show they happened to be watching, or to tell them to move it outside. Despite her obvious fascination with Bumblebee, whom she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of, she conversed with him rarely, only interacting with him if he happened to be around Mikaela and Sam. Mikaela didn't let it bother her much; the woman wasn't like most adults she came into contact with, and when she was around, she treated them more like regular housemates than the visiting guests they were.
Which meant chores, of course. She woke up Mikaela about six one morning so she could take out last night's trash, and she had Sam in the kitchen constantly, claiming that a man needed to know how to put away his own dishes. When she discovered that Mikaela never folded her clothes, just threw them in the closet, she sat the girl down and made her go through every piece of clothing she had brought with her.
She also made sure that they had their beds neatly made and tucked in just so every morning. Sam, having dealt with his mother his entire life, resigned himself to the Captain's quirks early on; Mikaela had looked at the list of tasks that was posted on the wall opposite the stairwell, and started laughing. She'd done so right up until Alexis took them by the elbows and escorted them back upstairs, to the woman's bedroom. She took out a British crown, and bounced it off her immaculately dressed bed. It shot straight back into her hand where it hovered above the sheets, waiting for the coin.
"I expect quality work, if not quantity. The world doesn't stop turning simply because you are on vacation. The toast will still burn, and you will still trip and fall down the stairs if you leave your pile of unwashed clothes by them."
Sam took in the somewhat sour expression she wore, and snickered. "Had personal experience with that, huh?"
The Captain sniffed. "Well, I wasn't always perfect."
So the days went. Despite the initial shock of having to work through their vacation, Mikaela eased into the routine quickly. Alexis was right, she realized. They weren't so much chores as clean living. And it was a nice change, having her things organized and laid out to where she could actually find them.
She was sitting up on her bed, an old towel laid beneath her, painting her toenails. Bumblebee watched from the window, being just barely tall enough to see into the second-story bedroom. The house was more squat than recent models, and sat lower to the ground. He was exclaiming over the immaculate strokes she made as she lacquered up her nails with Fire Engine Red, wishing he could work with something so tiny. She promised that when it came time to redo them, she'd let him have a go at it, which made him squeak happily.
When she was finished, she sat the bottle in her nightstand and went to settle herself down on the windowsill, letting Bumblebee blow air from his vents to help them dry faster. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply; engine grease, nail polish and warm metal bled together, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. She peeked through her lashes at Bumblebee, who seemed perfectly content to be sitting there, helping her dry her nails. His own optics were shuttered, mirroring her expression, and he had a forearm propped up against the side of the house, leaning into it lazily.
Something about his posture made her frown; it was just so casual and human. Was this something universal, or did they pick up body language the same way as English, through the Internet? She'd seen Ratchet settle his hands on his hips countless times as he was berating someone, and Optimus had a penchant for rubbing his face when he was frustrated. It made it easier to see them behaving so normally – so like them. Perhaps they expressed things differently on Cybertron, but whatever the effect, she felt it came from the same place – they had emotions and thoughts, just like any sentient being.
Would Barricade be the same, or would he simply be an empty shell, waiting for someone to give him an order, like any other machine? It was something that troubled her, more than she cared to admit. Ratchet was being curiously tight-lipped about the whole thing, which didn't help.
Hell. She was supposed to be on vacation from work, not dwelling on it. With a huff, she pulled herself into an upright position and stretched, shaking away her unsettling thoughts. Beside her, Bumblebee chirped and righted himself as well. They inspected her nails, Mikaela critically, the bot more curiously. She'd slap an overcoat on later, she decided, and wouldn't worry about it in the meantime.
A call from Sam turned Bumblebee's attention from her, and he disappeared from her line of sight, headed towards the beach. Eventually he came back to her, and gestured to her. "Wwwant a ride, pretty lady?" She laughed, and scooped her backpack up from its corner. Delicately she stepped into his waiting hands, both of them taking care to avoid her still sticky nails.
There was a beach towel and umbrella waiting for her, and Bumblebee let her get comfortable before heading over to Sam, who sat crouched a ways down the spit of sand. Surrounding him were buckets and tins of varying sizes, as well as trowels and shovels all lined up neatly. Her brows rose at the two of them, and Sam gestured to her. She held up a foot and wriggled her toes at him in response. As she laid back, sunglasses perched on her nose, she heard Bumblebee informing Sam that she probably wouldn't be happy if she had to redo her nails because she got sand on them. Smiling to herself – her boys were so thoughtful – she closed her eyes, and let the heat and their voices lull her into sleep.
There's a word for this, Mikaela thought drowsily as she woke up. She leafed through her mental dictionary, discarding the usual awesome and sweet for something a little more…profound. Absently she rubbed at her palm as she laboriously worked her way through years of memorized English vocabulary sets.
The sun soared above her, reflecting off the water and prying beneath her closed eyelids. A little ways down, she could hear sand shifting and squealing as Bumblebee and Sam built what was probably the world's first alien-constructed sand castle…wait. She frowned to herself, letting her head loll towards the noise. There was something wrong with that thought.
Pyramids, her groggy mind whispered. Right, those. She made a mental note to ask Bee if they'd had anything to do with that. Maybe Miles was right after all. Her train of thought drifted after that, letting it take her deeper into a somnambular state. She forgot what she had been doing a few seconds ago, before alien artifacts interrupted her thought process. A yawn crept up on her, making her jaw crack. She stretched languorously, and then made herself roll over till she could flop onto her belly, turning her head so she could watch the two friends work. At first she blinked, trying to get the sunspots out of her eyes, not really believing what she saw. With a grunt, she pulled herself upright, staring.
Sam was balanced on Bumblebee's shoulders, his arms wrapped around a huge metal tub that he struggled to pull off of a sandy turret. One of Bee's hands steadied Sam, wrapping around his torso even as his other one finished sculpting out a shallow window in another tower. The tallest rampart soared high above the Autobot's doorwings, casting the two in shadow as they labored away in the summer heat. Most of the other towers look finished, complete with delicate spires, railed balconies and great Primus above, it looked like there was a courtyard somewhere in there, lost in the maze of doorways, stairwells and sandy, sculpted shrubbery. No moat, but they were probably saving that for last.
Just how long had she been asleep, anyway?
Bumblebee saw her before Sam, and nearly unseated him, he waved so exuberantly. Sam clung precariously to the tub that still sat upon the tower, teetering dangerously before Bee caught him again. Mikaela let out a disbelieving laugh, finally hauling herself to her feet, stretching out her legs and brushing the sand off her limbs. She ambled towards them, lacing her hands behind her head, taking in the sight. She might actually be able to fit into those doorways, if she was on her hands and knees. Sam finally spotted her, and waved just as enthusiastically, grinning his little-boy grin and not looking a bit embarrassed.
Mikaela came to a halt just in front of the main entrance, moving to put her hands on her hips and eying them speculatively through her shades. "Sam Witwicky, you've got a giant metal man from outer space for a best friend, and out of the million and two things you could be doing, you've got him doing arts and crafts?"
"Not entirely, no. We just wanted to see how high we could get it at first…it's not my fault Bee's got an artistic streak."
Her shoulders shook with laughter. "Dignity, thy name is not Sam. But…this is pretty damn awesome."
Bumblebee whistled in agreement.
She pursed her lips. "So…can I go in yet?"
The Autobot shook his head, making Sam squeak and cling to him. "Nnn-not yet, please. It still nnneeds to dry."
Mikaela pretended to pout for a minute, before turning on her heel and marching back to her little oasis. She ransacked her backpack, and when she found what she was looking for, she made her way back towards them, object in hand. She held it up. "For posterity. And history. You haven't by any chance done this before, have you, Bumblebee?"
The mech in question cocked his head, optics blinking artlessly. Sam looked confused. With a roll of her eyes, Mikaela held up her find, deciding she didn't really need to know. When he saw what she was doing, Sam waggled his finger at her. "You know what the Major said! What Optimus said! No photos. Too much digital proof of the Cybertronians' existence floating around, waiting to be hacked –"
That's why I brought Gramma's Polaroid." She shook it at him.
Sam paused, and looked at Bee. Bee looked back at Sam. Both shrugged. "For posterity."
She aimed and fired.
She finally had a word she could use, one she didn't find use for too often. Perfect.
Out here, you could see for miles into the atmosphere, past the Earth's lights and into the heart of the Milky Way. The stars were an endless vaulted ceiling, spreading across the sky and into the ocean. The night air felt like silk and warm fingers brushing her cheek as she meandered down the steps that led from the back of the house to the long stretch of beach. The boys were out here somewhere, she knew; she'd seen Sam drift off after he'd cleaned up dinner, in the direction of the garage and Bumblebee. As she hit the sand, she could just barely hear the lull of two voices above the quiet roar of the waves, and headed towards them.
There were rocky outcrops that jutted out from the wall of the cliffs, trailing off into the waves to create tidal pools and other little fascinating worlds that stood apart from the rest of the sea. She pulled herself over a small hill, and there they were – or at least Bumblebee was; she could hear Sam's voice, but he was still hidden from sight. A little ways past the yellow bot stood their finished palace, looking grand and a little unearthly in the starlight. It should be dry by now, she thought to herself with a small smile. Tomorrow she'd make them give her the grand tour.
Their voices drifted towards her on the breeze. "So you've seriously never had a real vacation before? Dude, we need to have a talk with the boss bot. You guys need some downtime every once in a while, you know? Not just not fighting, but…doing other activities that have nothing to do with fighting."
"Wwwe do have recreational periods, Sam. On the Ark, we even had…what you would call a rec room. There were consoles for games of-of strategy and outcome estimationnn, tables and chairs our size," and she could feel the wistful expression he wore at this, "refreshment – if-f-f you recall the two mechs of which I've spoken before, the Twins – Sideswipe had some of the meanest high g-rrr-rade you'll ever have the misfortune to taste, if you had the right connections."
"You mean moonshine?" Sam sounded delighted at the idea. "You guys made your own illegal alcohol?" Bumblebee whrrred in affirmation, his eyes bright. "Dude, I cannot wait to meet those two."
Bee's expression changed just a little, enough for Mikaela to know that something was amiss. He turned away from what was assumedly Sam on the other side of him, which caused his optic to meet Mikaela's. His own widened, and his face lit up again in a more familiar fashion. "Mickey!" He crowed. She smiled back at him, and made the short trek down the rocks to meet them. He didn't rise, but extended one giant hand towards her, and she took a finger, letting him guide her over to Sam. Her boyfriend beamed at her, curly hair mussed and cheeks glowing, whether from his own exuberance, or from the earlier sun, she couldn't tell.
She sat herself down in front of Sam, facing the two of them. Letting her weight settle on her hands behind her, she craned her neck up to get a better look at Bumblebee. You couldn't tell that something had been bothering him just a few seconds ago, but she remembered. "So…vacay's not really a Cybertronian thing, huh?"
Again that expression crossed his face, as if he were recalling something fondly and with pain all at once. "You know, I asked Jazz that once. He would know more than I would about Cybertronian culture, so he was the mech to go to if you wanted to find out anything involving the arts and societal mores of our species.
I am too new to remember the old Cybertron…the Golden Age." And here his voice caught, as if he were hanging onto those words and holding them aloft in reverence. Something inside Mikaela shivered, and she pulled her arms in to rub at the goosebumps that rose there. In front of her, Sam eyes were riveted to Bumblebee's face, a bemused expression puckering his brows. She wondered if they had ever talked about this before, if Sam had ever bothered asking. Somehow she doubted it, judging from the look his face held. She shook her head mentally. Boys.
Finally Bumblebee continued, his voice smoothing out the best it could. "Did you know, there used to be ranks of nobility on Cybertron? Much like yours, here. There were grand palaces, and dancing, and fêtes every night…Jazz always said it was just a thousand of the most worthless bots flitting around like they had something under their olfactory sensors." Despite the jibe, there was a certain wistful note to it that she couldn't ignore.
"There's a few that are still online…at least as far as I've heard. Mirage was with us for a while, before Jazz found a mission for him. He's been gone a long…a long time. Hound went with him, of course. Those two are –what's that phrase-joined at the knee?" His tone was musing, as if he were only thinking out loud now. "Hound was a former member of the Guard, like Jazz. They're good trackers, the both of them; though I think Hound enjoys the hunt a little more. Jazz was always a look-you-in-the-optics-and-smile-while-he's-lying type of mech. A good one, though. You'll never meet a bot more dedicated to Prime. Except maybe Ironhide or Ratchet. Now, those two…"
It took Mikaela a minute to put her finger on what was different. Then it hit her: he hadn't stuttered. Not once.
Much later, she found herself with her arms around her legs, a cheek pressed to her knee as she took in the lively cadence of Bumblebee's voice. He was explaining exactly why Sideswipe and Sunstreaker avoided the medbay at all costs. She thought that maybe Sideswipe and Sam would get on famously, if they were still alive.
No one knew what had happened to those two, it seemed. Like many other soldiers in this war, they had taken up their own mission. Last anyone heard, Sideswipe had been headed to a seldom-traveled part of the 'verse, looking into rumors of a Decepticon camp. They hadn't known if Sunstreaker had been with him, though Bumblebee was certain he was – they were twins, he said, something rare and special. One spark, housed in two different bodies. Where one went, the other would, too.
It was fascinating, learning about Bumblebee's comrades. He spoke of them as if he'd only seen them yesterday, which, knowing the huge difference in their biological clocks, might make it feel that way to him. But it might also just be Bumblebee himself: Mikaela could hear it in his voice, the hope and the confidence in his friends, that they were still alive somewhere out there, trying to find their way home. He was just that kind of mech, to believe in such things; the war had never been able to strip him of that.
Mikaela was grateful for it. It made her wish he had been able to live in the time he talked of so reverently – an age of peace and love, prosperity and pursuit of knowledge. A chill came over her then, a distant thought trying to break through, but she disregarded it. Now was not the time to be getting technical. She turned her attention back to her best friends.
Sam had found a comfortable spot up against Bumblebee's thigh, leaning into the warm, living metal. His lids were at half-mast, but Mikaela could still make out the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth. He was listening intently, she knew. The whole time Bumblebee had been talking, Sam had inched steadily closer to his friend, until he found his current place beside him. She could see Bumblebee's hand at Sam's back, tapping a steady, soft rhythm against his spine. She couldn't help but smile at the gesture. The bot probably didn't even realize he was doing it; it was an absentminded, comforting motion, whether for himself or for his friend she couldn't tell.
Finally she found that she had to stretch or suffer a sore back in the morning. She hauled herself up, dusting away the grit that had accumulated on her legs and shorts. Both Sam and Bumblebee watched her as she proceeded to unkink herself, pushing at the small of her back and arching to break the pressure that had accumulated there. When she turned back, Sam was still in his spot by his friend, looking sleepy and thoughtful. She ran a careless hand over her ponytail, tugging at the end of it pensively. She looked up at Bee, but he was silent, his gaze on the distant, star-studded horizon. She thought for a moment, considering his expression. Then, with a slow smile, she offered him her hand. "Hey."
He glanced down at her hand, blinking at the appendage. She waggled her fingers at him. "Come here."
Carefully he dislodged Sam from his leg, righting the boy into a sitting position. Sam looked between the two of them, scrubbing at his face. "How about offering me a hand up? I think my legs have gone to sleep."
She let her smile slide over to him, and he leaned back against the rocks, eying her, an answering smile working its way across his sleepy expression. "What are you up to, babe?"
This time she ignored him, and gestured to Bee again. He finally responded, his optics bemused. Delicately, he took her hand in his, his own giant digits dwarfing hers. Mikaela tugged, feeling him follow her. Dust drifted off his frame as he let her take the lead, the tiny particles winking in the soft silver light. Despite the sand and salt and numerous other earthy things that surrounded them, his armor still shone proudly, the moon and stars casting him in brilliant light and velvet shadow. She led him down to the shoreline, past their palace made of crystals and starlight, and raised their arms until she could walk beneath his, slowly turning until she had made a full revolution.
She saw understanding dawn on his face, until his optics shone bright as the moon. He glanced back over his shoulder at the castle, then back down at her. She beamed back up at him, leading him further out until she felt the waves lapping at her bare feet. Still clinging to his hand, she tugged the hem of her tank top and sank into a curtsy, stumbling a little in the wet, crumbling sand. Laughing, she righted herself and pulled at him. "Now you."
"Now what?"
"Bow and ask me to dance, mister."
"Ahh." He didn't hesitate, and swept into an exaggerated bow over her hand, warm forehead brushing against the back of it. "Beautiful lady, would you do me the great honor of dancing with me tonight?"
She would, and did.
She had to show him where to put his hands, and his feet, but once they got themselves sorted out, he followed her as if he'd been doing it his whole life. After a while they switched, Mikaela letting him take the lead. He swept her across the glittering sand, moving her into patterns she wasn't familiar with, but felt natural all the same. Despite the rather distinct difference in their sizes, they made it work; setting a rhythm that seemed to move with the waves at their feet. Soon she became aware of a faint buzzing over the rush of the water, which she realized was Bumblebee's radio. He was surfing through sound bytes, and after another moment he found one that satisfied him.
"I miss the sound of your voice;
and I miss the rush of your skin;
and I miss the still of the silence
as you breathe out and I breathe in – "
Mikaela let her eyes fall closed. He spun her a little bit faster, and she clung to him tighter. When she opened them up again, the moon seemed brighter, the stars not so far away. As she was passed back through the waves, the ocean at her back, she caught Sam's eyes.
He wasn't smiling anymore, but his look spoke louder than anything he could have ever said. That feeling, that nameless thing that crept up on her sometimes unawares when she was with him, stared back at her from behind his eyes. She matched him stare for stare, letting him look his fill. She wouldn't say it if he wouldn't, but it was there, in everything but words. Even after she and Bumblebee completed their revolution, her back once more to the cliffs, the moment stayed with her.
"So come on get higher,
loosen my lips;
faith and desire
And the swing of your hips –"
Then Bumblebee was pulling her into one last spin, drawing the dance to a close – so she thought. Then she saw that Sam had climbed to his feet at last, and Bee was holding her hand out for him to take. He stepped in seamlessly, his bearing for once lacking its usual teenage ungainliness. She spun once more, into the circle of his arms, and let him take the lead. His eyes were as bright as Bumblebee's, a strange, soft smile unfurling across his face. His fingers interlaced with hers, locking their hands behind her back, keeping her flush against him. Bee stepped back, taking Sam's place by the cliff. When she glanced back at him, she found his face raised to the stars, optics searching the night sky. The music never stopped.
Then Sam stole her attention once more as he moved them further into the surf. The dance changed, evolving into something slower and deeper. She felt his breath across her face, let his warmth surround her. She didn't dare close her eyes.
"If I could walk on water,
if I could tell you what's next;
make you believe,
make you forget –"
It was right there, those three words, hanging in the small space between them. She could taste them on her tongue, like something too sweet that made her mouth water. But he didn't say anything, so neither did she. Instead he squeezed her hands, closing the distance between them to press their foreheads together. Something in her chest tightened, the words threatening to smother her. Still she kept her eyes open, watching him watching her. Her lips parted.
"Hold on, hold on, hold on…"
She exhaled, and he kissed her, silencing anything she may have said.
"Come on, get higher -
Come on and get higher -
Because everything works, love;
because everything works in your arms."
"Sam, has Bumblebee ever told you any of that before?"
There were only two days left now, and it was mid-morning. Mikaela had been up since dawn, as usual, unable to sleep more than a few hours at a time. They were in the den, sprawled together on the couch. Sam had his head on one armrest, legs up and tucked into Mikaela's side. She took up the other armrest, mirroring him. He was gulping down an overflowing ham sandwich, a feat she watched with some trepidation. If any of that monstrosity got onto the leather, Alexis would have both their heads. Then she'd make them do laps. She'd done it before, after Sam got melted chocolate chips all over his sheets.
That woman really didn't fool around when it came to cleanliness.
Sam studied his sandwich for a moment, as if it would give him the answer he was searching for. Mikaela waited patiently, letting him and his food be. After a bit, he licked a smear of mustard of the side of his thumb, and spoke. "Yeah…sort of. I asked him about something once, but…I don't know."
"Don't know what? What did you ask him?"
"I asked him about girl Cybertronians. Like, if there were any."
She scowled thoughtfully, the analytical part of her mind taking control and examining the idea from several different angles. "Could they be female? I mean, maybe there's a different model of protoform that is supposed to be a counterpart to the models we're familiar with…or something."
Sam didn't respond. When she looked at him, he was staring once more into his sandwich, a strange look on his face. She nudged him with her foot. "Forty-two."
"Eh?"
"The answer you're looking for. If that sandwich could talk, it would tell you it's forty-two."
He laughed despite himself, his expression clearing a little. "No, it's just…what he told me. About them."
Mikaela straightened immediately, watching him. "So they do exist? I've never actually brought it up with Ratchet, you know. I figured if it were important, he'd tell me. So what did Bee say?"
Sam sat up finally, swinging his legs down to the floor. With a sigh, he set his limp sandwich on the coffee table, and braced his elbows on his knees. As he sat there in silence, Mikaela's stomach slowly knotted. Maybe she didn't want to know.
"They're gone, Mikaela. Completely, totally wiped out of existence."
"What? How is that possible? What in God's name could possibly -"
And then she snapped her jaw shut, and closed her eyes. She already knew.
"Megatron. It was Megatron. Mikaela, he slaughtered them. He – he rounded them up like cattle - " he had to stop and swallow past the lump in his throat, then continued. "And you know why? You know what he said, the excuse he gave?"
She had a sinking feeling she did.
"'They're weak, useless creatures that do nothing to further the progress of our species. They're worthless and distracting, and I will not have them as soldiers. I will not have them at all.' "
Her eyes burned, and angrily she palmed the tears away. Sam's face was drawn, shadows creasing his normally cheerful countenance. "Bumblebee was there. He saw it happen. He saw his own friends abused, tortured and murdered right in front of him, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. None of them could."
With every new story she heard, with every atrocity that was added to the list, she hated that monster that much more. Despite her fears, despite the pain that came with knowing what Sam had done to survive, she was still glad he had done it. If it meant that the universe was just a little bit safer because of it, then so be it. She wished Megatron death a thousand times over, each one more excruciating and prolonged than the last.
Sam read her expression easily, and his face softened. "Hey. Stop it. No brooding on our vacation, remember? That's the law, and if I have to enforce it, I will." And he leaned into kiss her, distracting her for a time.
But she still remembered the look on Bumblebee's face as he searched the heavens for someone who would never return to him. It made her heart ache.
Two hours later Alexis found them back out on the beach, where Mikaela was being thoroughly distracted by a tour of the sand castle. The Captain came to an abrupt halt when the palace came into view, and her brows shot up. Sam ambled over to her, and swept his arm out in a grand gesture. "Welcome, welcome! Are you here for the grand tour?" And before she could protest, he'd linked their arms and began escorting her rather forcefully to the entrance. She balked, digging in her heels. Sam tugged in vain at her, but she crossed her arms, eyeballing the sand castle inches from her nose.
"That doesn't look very stable."
"Hey! This project was conducted by none other than our very own, multi-talented, multi-gadgeted Bumblebee! He'll tell you it's safe, won't you, Bee? Go on, tell her."
Bumblebee whistled enthusiastically from his position on the far side of the castle. Alexis rolled her eyes, and made to duck beneath the entrance. Sam stopped her before she could disappear, however. "There is a ten-dollar entrance fee. Did I forget to mention that?"
Alexis made a noise back in her throat. "Sam. I own this beach."
"So?"
"So, this is my property. This is my ruddy sand, so that makes this my castle by default."
"Ok, how about a construction fee?"
Alexis paused, and narrowed her eyes at the boy. Then she turned to Bumblebee, who was watching them with an air of bemusement. "Don't tell me you're hard up for cash." The Autobot held his hands out in a defensive gesture, chirping.
"Bloody…why I even bother asking…" They heard her mutter as she ducked into the castle.
A while later her shout came from somewhere in the middle of it all. "Oi! The Major called just a bit ago; said he had some news. You lot interested?"
Mikaela, who had come out the other side just minutes before, sat up. "What kind of news? Did they finally fire Simmons?"
The Captain gave a snort. "Nothing that fantastic. Said they'd finally gotten the go-ahead to start relocating, is all."
Bumblebee gave a piercing whistle, and everyone winced. Making a face at his friend, Sam looked to Mikaela, and they nodded at each other. Scrambling, they dove to locate the Captain and pull her out of the structure, to talk to her face-to-face.
She smirked when she saw their expressions. "Thought that might peak your interest."
Even as she questioned the Captain, Mikaela noticed Bumblebee go still, and look off into the distance. He was most likely contacting the others. Why hadn't they informed him first? But Alexis was talking, so she turned her attention back to her.
"They've finally got their hands on a piece of land off the coast, not too far from here, actually. Natives call it Diego Garcia, but the island itself isn't occupied. From the sound of things, your government had to cut a few deals, make a few promises to the President of Mexico to get it. There's fresh water, and they're already drawing up shipping plans for food and other supplies for the troops."
Mikaela's head spun with the implications. She barged past Sam's inquiries, asking the question that plagued her. "Did he mention Ratchet's plans? What's he going to do with Barricade?"
Both Sam and Alexis paused to look at her. The pilot's tone was indecipherable as she replied. "The Major wanted the two of you to know…that Optimus Prime says to stay in school. There's no need to uproot yourselves on their behalf."
The girl's heart leapt to her throat, then plummeted just as abruptly down to her toes. "No way."
"He says you've assisted as much as you're able –"
"But I'm not done!"
"Mikaela." This was Sam. She turned to him, her face pinched in desperation. "Hey. Hey, look. Ratchet's not going to cut you out of the project just like that. Maybe you could, I dunno, use Skype or something, work through video. Lots of –"
"Sam. I'm a mechanic. I have to use my hands, I need to do it myself."
"I get that, but, you know, doctors and stuff do this sort of thing all the time; they just tell someone else what to do and that person does it."
Mikaela let loose a cry of frustration, which made Bumblebee finally drop his call and pay attention to the humans beside him. He attempted a soft, querying whistle, but Mikaela was too incensed to hear him. She barreled over Sam's words with the tact of a bulldozer, gesturing violently. "No, no. I have worked too hard for this to just stop now. This is my thing. Am I not allowed to have a thing, Sam? Am I not allowed to have goals, have a purpose, be fucking useful –"
"Mikaela, stand down."
Never before had Captain Starling raised her voice to her, and the severity of her tone came like a backhand to her face. Both Mikaela and Sam physically flinched away, the girl's mouth sealing itself shut. Bumblebee had gone quiet the minute Mikaela had began to rant, and he now stood silent and still before the Captain's anger.
The Captain's mouth was flat, the set of her jaw uncompromising. She shoved her face into Mikaela's, and it took everything in her to stand still and not back away. Instead she forced herself to meet the Captain's eyes, and let her arms tuck themselves across her chest in a defensive gesture.
"Are you quite done venting your spleen, your Majesty?"
Mikaela rolled her shoulders in irritation. "No." She grit out, and promptly bit her tongue as she watched the Captain's brows snap together. "But," she added quickly, "I'll let you go first."
They stood nose to nose for another moment, the Captain looming above her like a bird of prey. Finally, Starling leaned back and let her breath escape her in a hiss. "Damn straight you will, Princess."
Mikaela wisely chewed on her tongue instead of responding.
Starling's shoulders unwound, and she recovered from her aggressive stance to put a hand on her hip. "I was going to finish up by telling you that Ratchet expects you to be in front of the computer at 2100 tonight, and not a jot after. He needs to go over your scheduling, so that you can help him finish your Frankenstein's monster."
Beside her, Sam made a choked noise in the back of his throat, but before he could speak, Mikaela let loose a whoop and threw her arms in the air. "Ha! I knew he wasn't going to ditch me!"
"But," Sam finally got a word in, "I thought you said that Optimus said – "
"Yes, well, that's what Optimus Prime says. He and Ratchet seem to have different opinions on the subject."
Bumblebee finally spoke up, softly. "He w-will not stop you from coming, iiiiif that is what you want-t-t." His voice cracked more than usual, and his posture was of one defeated; he stared at Sam for a moment, before nodding to the humans. "Iiii will talk to them, and sssee what is be-ee-ing arranged." And he took off down the beach, turning the corner and out of sight into the garage.
Sam blinked at the spot where Bumblebee had been, frowning. Then he rolled his eyes back towards the Captain, and huffed. "Well…goodbye, normal."
Starling snorted. "You consider yourself normal, do you?" They turned as a group, and Mikaela shot ahead of them to run up the steps, exuberance in the swish of her ponytail and the pounding of her feet. Behind her, Sam and Alexis came at a more sedate pace.
"Hey, I am the Mayor of Normalville, USA. Got two cars in the garage and a white picket fence…even though one of them's an alien and the fence is mostly metaphorical…"
The Captain groaned. "Forget I mentioned it."
It wasn't until much later that night that Mikaela discovered the Major's true reason for calling. She couldn't sleep for the adrenaline still pumping through her, making her fingertips tingle and her head light. She stepped outside onto the back porch, making an attempt to clear her thoughts with the salty ocean air.
She wandered down the uneven steps that took her towards the shore, not expecting to hear anything other than the rhythmic roar of the tide. Sam had actually crashed after dinner, claiming that he'd had enough excitement for one week and wanted to get one more uninterrupted night's sleep. Mikaela was slightly put off by this; he hadn't even waited to hear what Ratchet had to say, instead disappearing upstairs as soon as he'd cleared the table. She tried to shake it off; Sam could be prickly if you gave him too many surprises at once.
As she hit the beach, once more there came a murmur over the ocean's waves. Cocking her head, she ventured off in search of the voices. The sounds took her around the cove that hid the entrance to the garage, from where she could see light spilling onto the sand. Did Sam get up and sneak out without her knowing? Frowning thoughtfully, she took a few more steps until she had crossed the uneven ground that separated her from the outer wall of the garage.
"…rather sneaky of you Autobots. More like those Decepticons you hate so much."
The Captain's voice brought Mikaela up short. She hadn't even realized Alexis had left the house, much less came down here.
"I - do not hate them. Not the way-ay you mean. It was at the req-q-quest of Major Lennox that I came here, rrrregardless, not Optimus –"
"Don't be coy. Optimus Prime may not have officiated the order, but I'll be you my plane it was his idea in the first place."
There was something in the Captain's voice that made the greeting in Mikaela's throat die. It held a quality of irony to it that made it sound as if she were mocking Bumblebee, albeit subtly. Mikaela's brows drew down, and almost unconsciously she held her breath as she crept closer. What on Earth were those two talking about, anyway?
"Perrrhaps. We can't be too careful, these-these days. Not even the sssoldier that guarded Sam's life a-a-at the Battle of Mission City is ex-shhh-empt from scrutiny."
"So do I pose a threat, or don't I? Speak clearly, Autobot Bumblebee. I'm tired of nuances and hidden agendas."
She does sound tired, Mikaela realized. As if a weight had been thrust upon her that she bore with ill grace.
With the thought came understanding. Her stomach sank as she beheld the implications of their speech. They were discussing their current visit, and all of the hidden agendas that had brought them here. Optimus clearly wanted to keep an eye on her, since she was well on her way to full recovery after the events that had taken place nearly a year prior.
That must mean they're ready to start recruiting. The Captain's promotion wasn't just an honorary gesture; with it came a position within N.E.S.T., and all that implied. She had seen much of the Autobots – and the Decepticons – during the battle, and after she had woken from her coma. There were disclosure papers to sign, secrets to keep, technology that had to be kept from the people that would misuse it. It made sense to bring in a soldier that had previous experience with the Autobots, if only to keep eyes on them should they be approached, or if they decided they didn't want to keep quiet anymore.
Mikaela must have made a noise, or maybe Bumblebee had alerted her, but whatever the reason Alexis interrupted herself to call out to the girl. "Well? Quit lurking and get your arse in here." Her tone held an echo of the stern reprimand she had handed out to her earlier, and with a grimace Mikaela obeyed.
She ducked in through the lowered garage door, and stepped into the light. Despite herself she could feel the cold sweat of embarrassment break out at her temples, and she couldn't meet the Captain's eyes. Instead she settled for Bumblebee's, which was slightly less difficult. He cocked a brow ridge at her in question, and she shrugged abashedly. "Didn't actually mean to do that, sorry. I thought it might be you and Sam out here."
The Captain grunted. "Boy's out cold; I think he might have overloaded on information today." Bumblebee chirped in agreement.
When Alexis made no attempt to chastise her further, Mikaela relaxed a bit. With a sigh, she flopped against a tool rack, letting the familiar smells of grease and old leather comfort her. "I guess." She shifted, her thoughts taking her to uncomfortable places. "I just don't get why he's so against change. Y'know?" She waved a hand for emphasis, scowling. "It's like the second things start to shift, he loses his sea legs and tries to dive for dry land."
Bumblebee settled himself down across from Mikaela, waiting for her to finish. Gently he reached out to touch her chin, tilting her face up to his. "It's natural to feel fear in the face of change." He shook his head. "I know if I hadn't had Optimus and the others out there waiting for me, I would have been a lot more scared than I was when I first came here. And you humans are so tiny. So strange for someone like me to be afraid of you."
Mikaela placed her hand over his digit, smiling a little. "Thanks. It's a little comforting to know that the big robot aliens are afraid of the squishy organics."
His optics crinkled in mirth. "Just don't tell Ironhide I said that."
She laughed and patted him. "Cross my heart."
Behind them, all but forgotten, Alexis snorted. "Right, enough cuddling. Off to bed with you; apparently your little vacation is being cut short, so you need to pack in the hours while you can."
The girl rolled her eyes at the Captain. "Doesn't that include you, too?"
"Hardly. I'm trained to withstand up to over ninety-six hours of wakefulness, should the need arise. I think I'll manage."
Mikaela stared at the Captain, wondering if she was joking; the woman's face remained perfectly stoic. After a minute, the girl shook her head. "You know…you're kind of a pompous jerk."
That made Alexis smile, rather dryly. "Well, I was raised by the most pompous of all jerks, so remind me to let him know he was successful."
The girl couldn't help it; she smirked. "You know, you're really good at segue ways. Go on," she flapped her free hand at the Captain, "don't let me keep you from your oh-so-secret conversation about working for the Autobots."
The Captain's smile twisted. "Nosy little chit, aren't you."
"Hey, it's not like we weren't going to find out anyway. Though you could have said something sooner," she turned to Bumblebee, scolding him. The bot in question shrugged haplessly, glancing between the two females.
"N-not my choice, but since you knnnow now…" He looked back down at the Captain, brightening a little. "How do you feel about car-carpooling?"
Feel free to drop me a line if you're enjoying the story (or found something wrong with it; I'm not picky). Don't be shy. It lets me know there's someone else out there enjoying this as much as I am. TBC!