(c) Hasbro/Takara


Wheeljack had been more subdued that morning than Allison had come to expect so far, and his silence had lingered long after he'd left her at the front door to her apartment. It was truly hard to imagine him holding a grudge, but Allison couldn't help but fear he was still upset with her over her questioning the night before. That however was all washed away as soon as she'd entered her apartment from the front door, only to find the wall a great deal more hole-less than it had been yesterday.

She'd stood in her doorway for quite a while, exactly how long she didn't know, turning over in her head all the possible explanations for it now being repaired, each one more ludicrous then the next. It was clearly obvious that with the amount of care and perfection in which it had been put together, that type of craftsmanship was not possible by a human of any standards in what had likely been only a few hours.

Setting that aside, and remembering to thank Wheeljack later (even though he likely wouldn't admit he'd done it) she'd taken her shower and changed into a fresh set of clothes, stopping only to grab a few more things before leaving. She wasn't quite motivated enough to cook or grab anything to eat. Her fridge was bare, and there wasn't much to choose from anyway. Thankfully Wheeljack was at least familiar with the concept of take-out, and had asked if there was anywhere in particular she preferred. She was hungry, but she didn't think her stomach would be able to bear anything heavy after everything she'd been through so far. She'd suggested he just take her to a cafe around the corner. So they continued in silence.

It had felt awkward getting out of the car and expecting him to wait out in the rain, but he didn't complain. Assuring her he would be perfectly fine outside on his own, he swayed her guilt by stating he would be of much better use monitoring the surroundings outside.

Allison rubbed her fingers absently along the edge of the saucer beneath her coffee. The soft, ambient music playing from a small stereo behind the counter was soothing, and the patter of rain outside helped her to relax. Sort of. It was hard to relax when there was so much on her mind. First and foremost was the white car that sat sullenly across the street as the rain splashed across its frame. Wheeljack at that point was still being decidedly mute, but she had to wonder that if he'd truly been riled up by what she'd asked, would he have gone through the trouble of fixing her wall (granted, he'd been the one to break it in the first place.)? It was something to think about, but she was afraid to press the issue further, and left it at the assumption that his continued efforts to help her couldn't have meant he'd been exceptionally frazzled.

She glanced out the window, fingering the yellow slip of paper that had been haphazardly taped to her door, the only evidence that her apartment had actually been disturbed in her absence. She'd grabbed it in a hurry, but hadn't until that moment been able to really look at what it was. Partially, she'd intentionally been ignoring it, fearing it was an insurance claim or eviction notice from management after the damage Wheeljack had done. Finally looking at it however, she realized it was a note from the postal service. It was peculiar thing to get, seeing as she wasn't expecting any mail, but the words "signature identity authorization" printed boldly across the top said otherwise. It was a notification for a certified letter, but it didn't offer any further details as to who it was from or where it had come from. She'd have to ask Wheeljack if he'd take her to the post office later.

The Opex Sun had always been her favorite coffee shop, at least, the one within walking distance from home. It was quiet, the lights were dim and intimate, and the employees were friendly enough. Normally she would have spent time people watching, coming here when she was stressed, or sometimes for her lunch break if she'd had extra time, and she was typically alone. Today however was different. She wasn't just stressed, she was damn near the breaking point, but trying to tackle it with calm reserve. Everything seemed to have been sufficiently explained, but it was still hard to take at face value and just accept it, at least for now. Seeing the white car sitting silently, seeming to be nothing out of the ordinary was still reminder enough that she wouldn't just wake up from this at any moment.

Her chin resting in her hand, she stared at the rain drops running down the glass. She stared past the rain, and the droplets blurred as her vision shifted to focus further onto the street. The sharp aroma of cinnamon bit her senses and she frowned. Wheeljack was sitting perfectly still amongst the rain and bustling street, and there wasn't even a trace that would hint at what was really beneath that hood. Allison knew better however, and she felt a pang of guilt for the Autobot waiting outside. She wondered if he was cold, or bored. She wished she could bring him inside for a drink, but that would likely cause a mild stir of panic. But then again what would an Autobot drink? Oil? No, it seemed absurd to assume he ran on oil. Besides, they didn't have a cup big enough to quench the size of thirst he likely had.

Thinking about that was almost silly, and brought a faint smile to her lips. She half imagined them sitting down with coffee and talking, but what did they truly have in common to really speak of with some shred of normalcy? They were universes apart, she and him. She was just a simple human female bound to her desk and her career. He was a gigantic shape-shifting robot from space with any number of technological advancements at his disposal.

Actually, she supposed they'd have a lot to talk about. But it wasn't really something you could take home with you... Or discuss with co-workers.

Allison sighed, looking around at the patrons who occupied the cafe, all of them chatting and seemingly oblivious to the robotic war that was going on around them at that very moment. It was with a sense of irony that having Wheeljack around only highlighted how alone she had been prior to his arrival. This wasn't like the movies. There wasn't a heroic male for her to have tag along with her, to banter with while dodging laser beams and running from cunning yet surprisingly goofy secret service agents. There was only her, and him. And she couldn't talk to anyone about it.

Finished with her coffee Allison pushed her chair back a little and stood, careful to leave a few spare dollar bills on the table. The muffled lounge music from inside followed her out the door as she crossed the pavement towards Wheeljack, who wasted no time in opening the door even before she got up to him. Slightly panicked, she looked around for any stray passerby who had seen the door open of its own volition, but it didn't appear as if anyone had been paying attention.

Slumping inside, her body barely hit the seat before the door shut next to her, the rain now a muffled patter on the roof and windows.

"How was it?" his question came abruptly out of nowhere as he smoothly slid back out onto the road, weaving through the light traffic with ease. Allison was startled at the seemingly casual question, enough to need to be certain what part of the day Wheeljack was actually asking about. He idled at a traffic light, engine a low rumbling purr that sounded only vaguely unlike a natural car engine.

"Er- how was what?" she asked quietly, realizing the rain in her hair and on her clothes was drying very quickly due to Wheeljack's natural internal warmth. It was weird driving through traffic without actually having any direct control of the car she was sitting in, so she had to compensate by making it appear as if she was actually driving the car. Allison had at least gotten comfortable enough to put her hands on the steering wheel without gripping, and let it slide underneath her hands gracefully.

"The coffee, " he said cheerfully, and she was surprised to hear him call something by name for once, rather than "dark caffeinated beverage" which was the style in which he called most things that were new to him. "I was learning all sorts of wondrous things about this coffee beverage while you were inside. Did you know Allison that its aromatic qualities are quite volatile, consisting of chemical components such as organic acids, aldehydes, ketones, esters, amines and mercaptans. Fascinating, considering aldehyde is also the basic chemical group that makes a variety of different alcohols..." and Wheeljack continued to ramble on for a few more minutes about alcohol and its comparisons to something he called "Energon" (she'd remember to ask him later), as they coasted into a consistent speed. Allison could only listen in a partially enthralled stupor, more curious as to how the hell he'd managed to gather so much information while sitting on the street as a car. That made her curious.

"What do you do?" she asked, finally finding a spot of minimal silence in between Wheeljack's observations to actually get a word in. The question was more of a blanket over a generous number of things she was still curious about. She figured at least, that since Wheeljack seemed to be in a talkative mood, his previous upset obviously wiped from his memory, that now was as good a time as any to probe some more information out of him.

"Hmm?" he responded, almost lazily, clearly distracted as a woman crossed in front of them clinging to a rediculous amount of leashes, the ends of which tied to a variety of barking, squirming puppies. They were no bigger than Allison's head, and one of them stopped in front of Wheeljack's front bumper and stared, bouncing around happily. The woman dragged the puppy back into order and they all bounced away, but the puppy still seemed to be thoroughly interested in Wheeljack. Allison could almost feel him him struggling to hold back his excitement. The strangest vision crossed her mind, that if Wheeljack had a tail at that very moment, it would be wagging ferociously.

"Wheeljack," she said firmly. "Puppies get walked because their developing muscles need exercise. It's healthy," she explained, and tried to steer the conversation back into her intended direction. "Were you bored?" The small puppies long forgotten, Wheeljack took a minute to consider his response as he drove forward.

"Not in the least," he finally said, and Allison knew that if he was that enthralled with a bunch of puppies then the question was literally obsolete. "Bored? How could I be bored when there are so many subjects of interest all around me? You live in a fascinating world Allison. Why just now that woman being led by all those tiny little organic creatures. They looked quite excited, although I think that little one wanted to eat me!" He exclaimed.

"I don't think he'd get very far Wheeljack. Those tiny little teeth wouldn't be able to chew through your bumper," she remarked, then tried once again to head the conversation back in order. "What do you do when you sit there like that? Like when you were waiting for me?" she asked.

"I can do whatever I like. Tapping into your world wide web is embarrassingly easy you know. Aside from monitoring our surroundings I was busy learning all sorts of interesting facts about that 'wine of the bean' beverage humans seem to find so addicting..." so that explained his bizarre, random knowledge about coffee, and Allison had to wonder what other types of secrets he could tap onto from the Internet. She knew a lot of the places in the area had locked wireless available for paying customers, but it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume that a simple WEP encryption key wasn't going to be able to keep Wheeljack at bay. "Besides, I am able to do my better thinking when I am in my secondary form. Most especially if something dangerous is occurring around me," he said, and Allison noticed that he seemed to be stopping near a park. Another place that would ultimately lead to more distractions.

"Really?" she inquired, finding this new detail interesting. "Ah, if I can ask, what sorts of things do you think about?" she ventured, assuming that anything that would occupy his more pressing concerns at any given time was likely much too overwhelming for her to even grasp, but she wanted to know more about him.

"Mostly I watch. I'm a researcher, not just an engineer. The first and most important job of any researcher is to observe. This is a completely different planet to Cybertron. Cybertron has life, but everything is made of different materials, different elements. So our entire life has a different structure, a different network of behavioural patterns. That is, after all, why I've adopted this disguise. What better way to observe these surroundings, then by becoming a part of it? This is a unique world where the organic life has harnessed the natural materials of this world and used it to construct objects which I can naturally integrate myself with. A rare and fascinating occurrence." he explained.

Allison watched people mill about in the park near them, thinking everything through. Another vehicle pulled up next to them to Allison's left, a large economy size van, and the side door slid open to let the children inside jump out. One of them bumped into Wheeljack as she hurried past, turning for only a brief second to acknowledge the robot she had no idea she'd just touched.

Allison thought back to when she was that age, maybe 8 or 10, and wondered if she'd been given the chance just to even be near something so extraordinary, such as a being from another planet, if she'd have jumped at the chance, or be as reluctantly accepting about it as she was now.

"Really? I thought with the size of the universe and all..."

"Oh no. Earth is quite different. There are more beautiful planets out there, and more extravagant ones. But by and of itself Earth is quite unique."

"What do you do with your research? I mean, while I don't necessarily care, down here people would likely be afraid of the ease at which you can just, well, listen in I guess." Allison said, realizing just now that it was likely something the government wouldn't be too keen on. But, did they even notice? Would they notice? Or was Wheeljack just that good at staying beneath the radar.. But then again the government obviously had some sort of notion that they'd existed, because she doubted that they would have been able to keep things undercover as easily had they not already known about the alien presence. It was all so baffling.

"Really?" his inquiry was accompanied by a tone that was actually quite innocent.

"Yeah, it's a big thing down here..." she stated, and at his lack of further question she assumed that he already had some sort of idea at the atrocities that humans had the annoying habit of bringing on each other, without the aid of hostile alien robots. They left it at that.

"Well, I just store it all," Wheeljack finally said after a few minutes. "And later I go through it all, and see how I can relate it to back home, or at least something that can be of use to us."

"You mean like combine your technology and ours?" Allison ventured, wondering if she was straying too far into the technical than she really cared to go. But it was too late, for Wheeljack had already started to babble excitedly.

"To an extent. Things are generally pretty useful, until they explode, which the unfortunately have been doing quite frequently..." he said with an eerie amount of off-handedness that made Allison think hard about her personal safety. "Earth technology is filled with so many bugs and errors that everything either crashes, or explodes when I try to tinker with it." he added quickly, but the casual tone in which he discussed explosions gave her errant thoughts about it possibly not being quite as safe as he'd led her to believe.

"That sounds rather freakishly dangerous." she added hesitantly, thinking back to last night where she remembered seeing his arm on fire.

"Oh don't worry. I'll make sure to give you fair warning before anything has the potential to disintegrate extravagantly." he added, sensing her tension.

How thoughtful, she thought, and was about to think harder on all the potential fire hazards that posed a physical risk to her when Wheeljack continued to speak.

"Having said that, I find that the danger involved thrills me to my very spark.. There's nothing like working with something that has the potential to blow up in your face at any given second. It's such a rush. Some would disagree but it's those types of unpredictable variables that I find makes things more exciting." he said, as if he was talking about a mere science project of slightly smaller scale. The prospect was quite frightening, and after imagining all sorts of shrapnel flying around Wheeljack's workplace, it suddenly became apparent that the face mask was probably quite useful. Or a bandage...

Allison had little time to think it through further when she felt Wheeljack suddenly tense violently. Fearing the worst, Allison looked around in a mild panic, despite knowing that whatever would pose a danger to Wheeljack would be something she likely would not be able to see right away.

Then it happened, a low, roaring noise from somewhere above. A second later a jet shot across the sky above them, appearing through Wheeljack's windshield and disappearing over the trees and beyond. It wasn't unusual to see the occasional military aircraft fly over. After all, there was an airbase just a few hours outside of the city, so Allison made no immediate connection to danger, but Wheeljack had clearly sensed something unpleasant. A few moments later she felt the air inside him relax just as the final remnants of the engine's droning died away.

"I'm guessing there are some memories that you aren't particularly fond of?" she ventured finally, after a few minutes of silence stretched between them, the occasional sounds of children playing now sounding very foreign to her ears.

"No, not particularly," he said, and it was the most sullen she'd ever heard him since they'd met. Allison couldn't begin to imagine what repressive horrors he was likely holding in only to recall at that moment, and this was likely that dormant piece of him he hadn't shown until now. She thought for a moment about all the things Wheeljack hadn't told her, that had either seemed too personal or he hadn't offered to share. All this time she had taken his overwhelmingly eccentric personality for the standard methods to his madness, like that was all there was to Wheeljack.

Clearly he had some degree of pride, as she'd learned the night before, and even a small degree of sensitivity. But Wheeljack was over a few million years old. He'd seen war destroy his way of life and essentially cast him and his people out from their homes. She couldn't help but wonder what part of his personality was kept tightly contained underneath all the enthusiasm he used to mask it. Was there even the possibility that what she was seeing wasn't even the real him, his barest, deepest instinctual habits tucked away deeper only to be unleashed when the situation made it necessary? He'd already done enough to convince her that he had no interest in hurting her, but part of her deeper fears reminded her that on any level, there was always the risk of those old habits being jarred back into the forefront. Like a rehabilitated fighting dog turning suddenly, and violently on your own child.

"It's just an old habit," Wheeljack said after a moment, rather casually. "When a jet flies overhead, you usually start shooting."

"No friendly jets on Cybertron?" It seemed weird to have "friendly" and "jet" in the same sentence, but given that she was talking to a friendly car in context it didn't seem like too much of a stretch.

"Flight was a talent of the Decepticons. Like Starscream, for example."

"Starscream?" She was growing used to the bizarre, apparently "literal" translations of their names. This one however had a certain haunt to it that certainly didn't sound friendly.

"An unpopular Decepticon, who generally favors, the smaller, sleeker military aircraft, with an ego bigger than his boosters. You don't want to cross him. He is Megatron's second hand and air commander, although if you were to ask him he would likely tell you otherwise. That glitch has always had eyes for Megatron's seat of power," Wheeljack said, with a lacing of bitter reproach. "I don't think Megatron actually takes his personality very seriously, but he's good. Very good. If he weren't a loud mouthed braggart who's sole interest was himself, he might actually be formidable."

"I take it you've dealt with him before?" Allison said, trying to picture what someone like Wheeljack would look like as a jet. She felt the air still inside her for a moment, perhaps a pause in Wheeljack's thoughts, like he was trying to work out the best way too approach the subject with her. Allison wondered for a moment if she would get the full truth.

"Our paths have crossed once or twice. Usually not for very long. You know, he used to be a scientist too." He finally settled, but his words were clipped, almost like he was taking great care not to stumble. After last night, Allison didn't want to point this out to him.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. A good one. That was before he grew bored with the lifestyle. Starscream used to be good, back when he first broke out into the field. But then he started getting lazy, taking a lot of shortcuts. A lot of dangerous experiments."

"Says the person who thinks explosions are exciting." Allison added sarcastically with a little smile. Thankfully Wheeljack responded with a light chuckle, the ripple of amusement running through his frame as his deep voice resonated with laughter.

"In my defense I'd like to say I like to blow small things up. Starscream liked to try and blow big things up. Like me for example," he countered. Wheeljack paused, lingering for a moment and she felt the air still again. It was almost like Wheeljack was holding his breath. "That Decepticon couldn't hit me if his radar tracker was fitted with a microscopic zoom," Wheeljack finally said, but she sensed hesitation in his words..

"That's pretty bad."

"Awful. Starscream is sloppy, letting his ego do wonders for his accuracy, but-" Wheeljack paused for a moment for effect, his tone indicating that what he was about to say wasn't particularly positive. "-If Starscream truly wanted to kill you he would have no trouble doing so, if he were to only focus. Once he targets you for the hunt it will not end until the kill is made. And he will not deprive himself of savoring it either..." Wheeljack's tone and the way he described it was, to say the least, shocking; the implications underneath his words hinting at nothing short of a very slow, agonizing death for the sake of this Starscream's amusement. Allison was beginning to picture these Decepticons as a really friendly lot.

"Sounds like quite a personality he has."

"More like five personalities, all squabbling for dominance. And each of them is highly annoying." Wheeljack said, pausing as Allison started to claw at the door. "Is something wrong?"

"I just need some fresh air," she breathed, the pulsing heat inside Wheeljack's cabin suddenly oppressive. She wasn't entirely sure why that particular conversation had left such a lingering stench over her thoughts, but it was something that not even Wheeljack's uncanny lack of focus could bring amusement to. Thankfully he didn't argue with her as she opened the door and got out, breathing in the cool air like a drink. It felt much better. Looking around her, she circled around to Wheeljack's hood, and without even thinking sat down. Instantly she threw herself forward, face hot with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry- er- force of habit I guess, I didn't mean to-" and she was stopped short when her pocket started ringing. Completely startled, Allison fumbled in her coat for her cell phone, which was buzzing noisily at her. The caller ID was indiscernible, and thinking it likely a marketing call her intentions were to answer it in a huff-

"Look, whatever you're selling I'm not interested-" she began, but the speaker immediately cut her off.

"Oh I assure you that whatever I have is quite special," replied, none other than the voice of Wheeljack, straight through her phone. She gaped at him stupidly, still holding the phone to her ear. "Allison, it appears as if your cellular phone is just as easy to tap into I'm afraid." There was no visual indication that he was actually talking, in fact, his physical body remained quite still, it was almost like he was talking to her from within. She wondered if it was through one of those "frequencies" he'd told her about before.

"You can do that?" she spoke into the receiver, relieved that to any passer-by it would only look like a girl on a regular phone call.

"Apparently I can..." he said, trailing off. "It was purely a guess, but once I was able to identify the specific frequency it was absurdly easy to break. At least now I should be able to contact you regardless of the circumstances."

Oh no.

"Oh... boy, that sounds really great," she said, trying very hard to not make it sound like she was disappointed.

"In fact, just so you know it's me..." There was a brief pause. "Look at the screen." Allison did so, and was overwhelmed to see what looked to be a photograph of Wheeljack's face. "There! Now if the phone rings, you know who it is."

"That's... very thorough." Allison said. "But if someone were to pick up my phone and see your somewhat unusual face, they might wonder..."

"You're right Allison. Maybe something a little less conspicuous."

There was a brief pause, and the picture of Wheeljack fragmented, the pixels shifting and moving around. A moment later it was replaced by the Autobot symbol he wore on his frame; The odd face she had admired the night in the parking lot.

"Much better," she said, still not entirely convinced that Wheeljack having the freedom to call her all hours of the day was going to be a good idea. The symbol itself was still an oddity but it would have to do. "So, what do we do now?"

There was a long pause on the phone and Allison wasn't sure if Wheeljack was thinking or distracted again, but he soon responded.

"We wait."

Well that didn't exactly leave a whole lot answered but Wheeljack was so far the king of understatements, leaving Allison no choice but to tuck all her questions about their fate away. She realized that for all his size and alien appearance, Wheeljack seemed to be just as susceptible to the same foibles as her. A creature like him commanded a great deal of attention, and the first general assumption to make would be that he would be all-knowing. While his knowledge of the universe was indeed great, when it came down to the small matters of what to do next, he had no more clue than she did. And that worried her. He likely didn't even know what was in store for them, and at this point it seemed to be a matter of waiting it out to see if her boss made any attempt to contact her. The problem with that lay with the fact there was no sort of time-frame or even assurance that he would contact her at all. This could all have been for nothing so far.

Allison looked out at the park for a moment, breathing in deep. Wheeljack was silent which gave her some time to think things through. She didn't even know where to begin.

"I-er, just need a moment Wheeljack," she said, and when he didn't respond, she added with emphasis, "Alone."

"Fair enough," he said lightly, and all at once disappeared from the other side of the phone, leaving an odd, almost awkward silence. Allison lingered at his hood for a moment, feeling somewhat weird saying goodbye to a car, so instead settled on a pathetic wave that would have looked stupid to anyone who saw her. Trying to recover herself she turned quickly and hurried down the path, and eventually came to a partially wooded spot on the small dirt road that provided some cover from the street. Careful to stay within eyesight of Wheeljack, although he was now a good distance away, she sat down on a bench and sighed. Her thoughts were a great deal more tangled now than she ever thought possible.


02/27/2011 - Minor edits