(c) Hasbro/Takara

Wheeljack watched Allison walk away, and despite all his misgivings at letting her stray too far, he forced himself to remember that she was an adult, by their standards at least, and still deserved space. Partly it was guilt, knowing that she was frustrated, her much smaller, less expansive cognitive abilities not easily able to grasp everything that had been thrown onto her plate over the last few days. Despite all that though, he had to admit that he was more impressed with her resolve so far than his previous notions about her instability permitted. She was taking things quite calmer than he'd suspected, at least on the outside, but he knew with a pang of dread that internally there were things she was not sharing with him. Given his limited experience with humans so far, he knew at least enough to tell when to press an issue, and when not to. Then again, as he watched her sit idly at the bench alone, her knees drawn up to her chin in contemplative silence, he felt all at once sorry for her. It had never occurred to him until now what kind of weight had been placed on her shoulders, and she was likely feeling the pressure like a few megatons of crystallized energon.

Allison also also looked lonely, and that made him realize that watching her at such a distance, he was lonely too. What he wanted to do, and what he should, and could do, were two totally opposite things, and starting some chaos in the park during the middle of the day was not a good idea. So instead, he watched her sit alone, doing his own bit of brooding as he tried to think of something encouraging to say to her when she came back. He was lost in his own thoughts, and didn't even notice the tendrils of communication enter his immediate sensory nodes until an all-too familiar presence announced its arrival.

"You need to keep moving." The voice was gruff, almost commanding. Wheeljack recognized the jarring, scratchy grumble immediately.

"Ratchet?" It took a few nanoseconds to process the voice he'd just heard, cutting into his awareness abruptly throwing his concentration briefly into disarray. After all, being on his own for so long he'd quickly gotten used to his internal conversations being decidedly one-sided.

"I'm right behind you, you thick-headed glitch," he replied, and sure enough upon further inspection and a brief scan, Wheeljack was able to confirm that the Autobot medic had pulled up right behind him. He hadn't even noticed; had been too involved in thinking about what to say next to Allison to even become aware of another Cybertronian presence in such close proximity. The suspiciously driver-less ambulance had pulled right into the parking lot, driving near him slow and sneaky like a predator.

Woops.

"Primus, I could have been a Decepticon and you wouldn't have even known it. And I see you've made yourself known to the human?" the medic remarked, his internal tone decorated with something close to irritation, which was generally how he always sounded. Wheeljack bristled at the question, feeling irritated.

"We're fine," he grumbled. While he often enjoyed spending time alone and shutting himself up in his lab, he wasn't truly and completely a loner. He enjoyed having others around to admire his work, and enjoyed working with those who were on the same level of intelligence, whatever their field. Sometimes he just enjoyed having someone around to explain things to. But in times like this, if he had to share his space with someone he'd much rather it be someone who wasn't likely to spend that time gnawing away at his mood and adding to his frustration. "There wasn't much of a choice. There was an explosion-not one of mine-and things happened too fast. I had to step in. But we're fine."

Ratchet was someone he had a common affinity with. They'd spent a great deal of time working with each other and generally got along well. But they dealt with stress in completely different ways. Whereas Wheeljack would indulge in his work to occupy his mind, Ratchet's mouth flapped in the ears of anyone close enough, and unfortunate enough, to bear the brunt of his complaints. It would have at least been bearable if he'd gotten some type of advance warning, if not to just be able to mentally prepare. Ratchet had simply just appeared out of nowhere, and it was a rather rude shove back into the real world.

"Sure you are. Which is why she's over there and you're over here." he observed snidely, instigating an internal eye-roll from Wheeljack who was not all up for entertaining Ratchet's bluntness.

"It's been a crazy couple of days. She just needs to get some air. She said so herself." Wheeljack said sullenly, if not for his own benefit, considering the fact he really didn't know the true reason that Allison had wished to be alone. Humans were a hard lot to predict, and understand, their curiosities never failing to perplex him. He hoped that perhaps some day soon he'd more easily understand their inconsistencies.

"What she says and what she means aren't always going to be the same thing. She's a female, and a female human at that. She's probably scared to death by you. Primus, half the Autobot faction is scared to death by you." Ratchet's trenchant remark was not all that far off the mark, and Wheeljack knew that, despite doing his best to ignore the mild stirrings of inadequacy that plagued him at that moment. Allison so far was still rather externally closed off, and he was finding it hard to find ways to get her to open up to him, which was something that was paramount. It would do neither of them any good to keep anything tucked away, her especially, and a lot of their success depended on working together and being open.

"I don't need a lecture from you Ratchet." Wheeljack bit back, trying to drown those thoughts from whence they came, growing even more annoyed by the medic's pestering. He could feel the ripple of annoyance over the com between them as Ratchet worked up a retort.

"Oh yeah? I'd rather be elsewhere myself Wheeljack, but after you failed to report in, and continued to fail at reporting in for weeks, I started to get a little worried you'd gone and driven yourself into the ocean finally, what with the way you seem to lack any attention to what you're doing half the time-"

"What's the real reason you're here?" Wheeljack cut him off, feeling himself physically shudder at the newest additions to things he had to worry about.

"I'm only here because Prime sent me. Had to make sure to send someone who could put you back together after all if we were to find you in pieces."

"I'm touched that you care."

"Eh, you know me. Now get the girl and get out of here. Besides, I've made this my favorite nap spot, and you're in it," he grumbled. Grumbling was the medic's way, as his age and experience over the years had given birth to an irreverent bedside manner that made most Autobots prefer to stay lying out in the field damaged then end up on Ratchet's operating table. Oh, he was one of the best, fixed any mech up better than anyone, but gave one a good talking to and a thorough whipping when all was said and done. He was one of the oldest Autobots currently on Earth, and that often led to him sticking his nose in business that didn't really apply to him, or at least he seemed to think it did.

"Now what do you think she's going to do when she sees your broken down aft parked behind me?" Wheeljack countered, smiling inwardly as his annoyance fell victim to a sudden switch in his attitude. The verbal tussle was a nice break, and he'd never really been a mech that could stay annoyed for very long. Despite that, his inquiry was quite true, as he had to assume that she'd be quite alarmed to find a large, red and white ambulance nonchalantly parked behind him.

Not to be outdone, Ratchet decided not to remain completely discreet for long. Wheeljack buzzed with horrified surprise when he felt his back end get smacked forward rather rudely by Ratchet's passenger door. His whole frame pitched forward, and feeling very offended he loudly blared a remarkable reproduction of a car horn.

Allison shot up from the bench and looked in every direction at the sound of his distress. All the color had drained from her face as she looked on at Wheeljack in muted terror, possibly unsure if his outburst had been a signal to run or not. Thankfully Ratchet had at least decided to exercise some restraint, and had shot back in reverse before Allison caught sight of him, coming to rest quietly in a spot underneath a large maple tree. He thought he needed to cool the flames quickly, and hurriedly grabbed for the signal wavelength he associated with her phone, and with care, manipulated the frequency into something he could use, fooling the primitive piece of technology into thinking it was receiving a call. She struggled with it in her coat, but was already walking back towards him hesitantly when she picked it up.

"He...Hello?" she sounded extremely unsure, but he attributed that to her not knowing how to actually answer it when it was him.

"We should move on... erm... before we have any unwelcome guests," he said quickly, wincing as he felt the internal slap over his com link that told him Ratchet was very much still listening. In a fit of defiance, and a desire to declare to the medic how thoroughly finished with him he was, he purposely locked down all his low-range systems to block him out. There was a rumble of an engine not far from him, Ratchet's more audible response to being cut off.

"Well what was that all about?" Allison hissed, quickly getting into the driver's seat as he backed out of the stall he had occupied. "And when did that ambulance get here?" she said suddenly, but almost offhandedly, completely unaware of the fact that he was intentionally staring the ambulance down. It wasn't exactly unnoticeable, sitting completely alone in a row of stalls that were empty.

"I'm surprised you didn't notice it, after all it was pitching an awful fit when it drove in... guess you must have been, ah, misplaced in your thoughts," Wheeljack said quickly trying to recover, and sped off back into the main streets of the city, leaving Ratchet far behind.

"You mean lost in my thoughts," Allison corrected. "And that reminds me..." she added quietly, almost hesitantly. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course Allison, ask whatever you like." Wheeljack said, grateful at the prospect of having something new to occupy his attentions.

"I, well, had this letter on my door and apparently I have to pick something up from the post office..." she said delicately, and she leaned over to reach for something she'd set down on the other seat.

"Perhaps it is a clue," he said, perking up a little bit, even more so once he realized that Ratchet had decided not to follow. He'd deal with Ratchet later. Once he'd figure out how to break it to Allison that she may have to endure the company of a perpetual grump.

"Maybe you're right," she said, trailing off as if it hadn't occurred to her. The possibility was always there that it was nothing, but they had to at least follow any sort of lead that came their way. After all, they didn't exactly have a lot to go on at this point.

"Alright then, just tell me where. I've always wanted to see a post office, but have never had the time..." and he was about to ramble again but quickly stopped himself, because he could tell that Allison had a question on her lips.

"That ambulance... was there any kind of trouble? Usually an ambulance means trouble..."

"Non whatsoever. It was just being nosy." he said bitterly, jerking forward a little bit, causing Allison to sway forward. She seemed unaffected.

"The ambulance? Or the driver?"

"Both."

Now that he was out of Ratchet's immediate perception range, he opened up his channels once again, after all, keeping them permanently closed should an emergency arrive, would have been foolish. Besides, having them closed felt too cramped. Thankfully Ratchet didn't burst in with an explosion of fury as soon as the pathway was clear, and it was blissfully quiet. For now. The next few weeks were going to be that much harder now. Ultimately he was going to have to explain Ratchet's presence to Allison, and he had to figure out a way to do it delicately. Seeing as Wheeljack was quite sure Ratchet would spare no time dogging them around the city now, she was sure to become suspicious should she notice the same emergency vehicle following them around everywhere. Eventually Ratchet would likely just make his presence known and spare him the trouble of having to tell her, but besides, Wheeljack had to admit to himself that he needed the help. The repairs had been slow-going so far, and without Ratchet's assistance he wasn't even sure he'd be able to get them all done because most of it strayed beyond his realm of expertise. It was like a blessing hidden behind the mask of a curse. A blessing that wasn't afraid to maim you any further before actually repairing you.

"So, this post office we're going to. It's a kind of courier service, is it?" Wheeljack finally asked, trying to push all thought of Ratchet out of his head for the time being.

"Yes, it is."

"So why does it exist when you have perfectly operating digital means of communication, ancient as they are."

"Digital communication is still somewhat in its infancy, as you just pointed out. A lot of people in this world don't yet have computers."

"Your boss does though, surely. I mean, his entire empire revolves around digital matter and electronic services." he pointed out. Allison sighed.

"Of sorts yes, though it's not really an empire exactly. It's just a major business...well... Actually, I guess you could call it a business empire I suppose. Though he's not the big boss. Just my boss. At any rate, at some point most people have a need to deliver parcels. And while I'm sure your race has a more sophisticated method of transporting objects from one place to another within seconds, unfortunately for us it takes weeks. Sometimes even months."

"Sounds deplorable and unpractical." He said with an internal wince at the mere though. It was laughably absurd, by his own Cybertronian standards at least, but he had to assume that for them, that was likely the standard method of doing things. He couldn't imagine having to wait that much time for something.

"It is, for the most part. Especially when things get lost. It does have it's advantages though." she countered, sounding genuinely convinced.

"Such as?" he asked, not quite as easily swayed but interested to hear more.

"Well... I guess you can't hack an envelope. And only one exists. You can't automatically duplicate it."

"Actually, you can. There's this device on the planet Surplexis 4 that I was given the opportunity to tinker with once. It was created to replicate the matter in any kind of object, and rebuild a clone of it. Really fascinating."

"Uh huh I'm sure it is. But fortunately for us, we don't have that technology. Which means the envelope, for now, is the only copy. Meaning the data is, technically, safe. So maybe this has some relevance to you, whatever it is, because I'm not actually expecting anything else."

Because if it didn't they were back to square one.

02/27/2011 - Minor edits