Authors Note: This update is short, my apologies. I am trying to keep my plot together, not easy or motivating once the initial rush of fic writing wears off. And whoever made the suggestion to me for the 'plot point' at the end (you'll see) please remind me who you were, and I'll put your name in the credits. I honestly cannot recall WHO suggested it, but I'm very gratefully using it. Ta!
Chapter 10Bumblebee pulled up outside the base entrance, pulling over into a zone specifically marked as a 'park & transform' area.
There were now so many Transformers at the Autobot base, it was turning into a proper city – with all of it's own laws and regulations; as Prowl liked to continually remind everybody. It was no longer acceptable to pull up and transform wherever a 'bot felt like – there could be another car behind him that wanted to keep driving straight ahead. Making for a very awkward situation when the car in front ended up with another car nose's planted in his aft. Ironhide had snickered for one hour straight over the thought of Ratchet surgically removing un-transformed cars from the aft's of other unlucky mech's; until Ratchet pointed out the very real concept of Optimus Prime's massive grill rammed into Ironhide's wide black aft. Permanently.
The snickering stopped.
Sam Witwicky exited Bumblebee, turning to look behind him at Marin, Bumblebee's girlfriend, parking behind him and beginning her transformation. The Smart car smoothly turned into a very small, blue-colored femme. Bumblebee felt a twinge of jealousy when for the first time, Sam failed to stand and watch HIM in awe as he transformed.
Marin cocked her head at the human boy, feeling nervous but still smiling, "Hello."
"Uh, guh. Hi?" Sam's hand crept up and waved weakly. He wasn't good with girls, and apparently his nervousness extended to females of other species as well. He was confident and relaxed (mostly) with Mikaela, and he had thought he was forever cured of that horrible, fumbling, stupid behaviour he exhibited around girls... but no.
Bumblebee nudged his human in the back, his optics sparkling. "Sam, may I introduce my partner, Marin?"
"Um, y-yeah?" Sam stuttered, blushing. The femme was cute. Not beautiful, not sexy, not anything amazing, really. She clearly wasn't a warrior, not like the other femme's Sam had already met. Arcee – the sexy sassy one; Elita One – Prime's confident warrior-like girl; and Chromia – Ironhide's tough-as-nuts, rough-mouthed femme. Marin seemed more like the little girl next door in pig-tails that waved shyly through the window occasionally and liked to have pretend tea parties.
Bumblebee rolled his optics, "Marin, this is Sam Witwicky." He paused for effect. "Destroyer of Megatron."
"WHAT? Really? Bumblebee! You never mentioned that! We need to talk about the things you need to tell me in advance!" Flustered, Marin knelt down onto one knee, putting her head merely one a hand's span above Sam's own. Her optics keenly looked over the startled boy. "Sam, I would dearly love to hear you tell me how you removed the blight of Megatron from our universe." Her optic ridge's blinked solemnly down at him.
"Ah, you know," Sam shrugged, allowing some salvaged pride in himself to fill his chest, "It wasn't much, really. Optimus helped. He told me what to do. Sort of."
Marin nodded, standing up, "Bee? Why don't we hit the rec room? Drinks for everyone? Then Sam can tell us what he did."
Bumblebee's optics flashed cheekily, as he offered his hand to Marin, "I know, I was there, remember?"
"Yes, yes, of course you were," Marin took his hand in her own, patting it lovingly.
Sam followed along beside the couple, hands in his jean pockets. "Mikaela saved Bee, she hauled his ass-"
"Aft," Bumblebee corrected, "and you shouldn't swear."
"Aft, ass, whatever, I'm over eighteen now," Sam smirked, waving him off, "Out of the line of fire with a tow truck."
"Who is Mikaela?" Marin asked politely.
Sam smiled broadly, "She's my girlfriend."
"Oh." Marin smiled softly, looking up at Bumblebee with affection, who returned her look ten-fold. "I've got a partner too. It's a nice feeling."
"Yes," Sam nodded enthusiastically.
The chronometer had just ticked over to being officially early evening, and the rec room would be seriously crowded later on, but it was comfortably pleasant at the moment. Bumblebee led his friend and girlfriend to a vacant table, including a human-sized booster chair for his boy. It didn't take long for Sam to somehow blurt and stutter his way through an explanation of 'How-The-Human-Killed-Megabutt' for an intently listening Marin.
"Don't listen to everything the squishie says, Marin, he over-exaggerates. Move over, Bee. Evening, Marin." Ironhide thumped his wide aft down into a chair right next to Bumblebee, smirking.
Bumblebee glared at his Guardian, just barely managing to snatch his drink away from Ironhide's sneakily creeping hand along the tabletop. Ironhide glared back grumpily when he missed his target of a free drink. Sam and Marin shared a hopeless look.
"Ironhide, don't be so rude. Ask before you sit. May we sit with you? I shall personally remove my Weapons Specialist if he is at all intruding on your privacy." Optimus Prime stood calmly behind Marin's chair, causing the femme to swivel her head to peer upwards at who was talking. "Hello Marin. Sam, nice to have you back again."
The boy waved meekly, wiggling his fingers and smiling. "Heya, Optimus."
Ironhide leant back and crossed his arms, growling, "You won't be removing anything, aft-head. Ratchet has a damn good throwing arm, don't you think?"
Marin blinked and choked over her drink, trying to quickly wipe away the spilled mess with her fingers. How could Ironhide get away with referring to the legendary Optimus Prime as a 'aft-head'? She watched as Optimus reflexively felt around the mark on his forehead where Ratchet's tool had dented him senseless.
Optimus wasn't without his own come-backs though. His glare was frosty. "Don't think that I won't set Elita and Arcee on your over-sized aft for target practice. Elita very much enjoyed her workout with Ratchet." He gracefully lowered his large mass into a chair next to Sam.
Bumblebee hung his head in his hands with a whimper, "We came here for a quiet drink and catch-up. Peace and quiet. Pleasant companionship." His voice was scratchy but usable. "Instead we get hijacked by Thelma and Louise."
"Uh, they're females, Bee." Sam appeared confused.
"Yes, I know, Sam. Thelma and Louise."
Ironhide couldn't make a comeback to that. He didn't have a clue who they were, or why being a female was a problem. He'd ask Chromia about it later. He made another attempt at Bumblebee's drink. And got smacked.
Sam burped and patted his chest. "Oh, excuse me. How's the head, Optimus? Bee told me all about it."
"It is..." Optimus cocked his head, shifting his legs under the table to get comfortable, "Much better thank you, Sam. Just a few stray bits of CPU memory that get mixed up, nothing to worry about."
Ironhide chuckled, making a 'dumb' silly-optic expression, "Ugh?" he laughed, "And the 'stray bits of memory' are; which secret code is for releasing nuclear missiles and which is for opening my apartment door?"
Optimus Prime glared with deadly intentions, "I am NOT that mixed up. Ratchet cleared me for the duty of saving Autobot lives – including yours, sadly."
Marin kept her face carefully expression-free. Then kicked Ironhide under the table.
Ironhide jerked in his chair. He frowned, his optics sweeping the occupants at the table. Bumblebee smirked and pointed a finger at Sam. The black mech loomed his face close to the yellow mechs, his optics darkening. "Bumblebee, his legs are not long enough." The words were low and deep.
Marin leaned across in front of a startled Bumblebee and thrust her face close-up to Ironhide's, "I did it. Start being nicer to Optimus and Bumblebee, you bully." She sat back down in her chair sweetly, taking a demure taste of her drink.
Ironhide's optic ridges rose up in a flabbergasted surprised expression. Optimus chuckled deeply. Bumblebee blew a raspberry. Sam just shrugged and took a sip of his drink.
"You know, I like her." Ironhide grinned at Marin happily. Optimus groaned, looking disturbed. Wonderful. Another femme to protect from The Great Slut.
Bumblebee grabbed onto his femme and held her tightly, glowering at the big black mech.
Sam held up a middle finger and directed it at Ironhide, "Need a spare hand, Bee? Or did you forget this?"
The Camaro brightened, "Thank you, Sam."
Ironhide went to make a re-buttal – and was thrown from his chair. But not by any of the other bots... they were all on the ground as well, the rumbling of a massive explosion causing the floor to tremble and shudder. Alarms began shrieking.
The base intercom started blaring instructions, "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! All assigned soldiers, report to your stations immediately! I REPEAT-"
"No need to make a repeat, Prowl," Optimus said darkly, crouching on one knee and staring out the rec room window at the east end of the base – that had just been blown to bits. Pieces of the massive internal girders used in its construction were sticking up like toothpicks. The base foundations were still rumbling with aftershocks. "Ironhide!" he snapped.
"On it," The black mech scrambled to his feet. His cannon gyros began to harshly whirr, blue and yellow energy flaring from their deployment ends. He promptly began re-routing all communications to be handled deftly by his sub-processor while taking hard running steps out the rec room door, intent on kicking aft.
Optimus turned to his friends, "Marin! Get to Bumblebee's quarters and lock yourself in! His room his deep enough to shield you from any further attacks." He didn't mention 'unless the whole base blows up, but what the heck, then we'd all be goners'. His optics fell on Sam. "Take Sam with you."
"NO! No way, I'm not hiding away-"
"SAM!" Bumblebee's voice was surprisingly sharp, "Take Marin and keep her safe! Do not argue! GO!"
Optimus Prime was already disappearing out the door, his huge form swerving around other running horrified mechs and femmes. Bumblebee sent a swift internal message to his femme. Stay safe! Don't leave my quarters! Love you... then took off after Optimus, his smaller body much more agile in the chaos, ducking and weaving.
Marin looked down at the human boy with terrified optics. "Now what?" she whispered.
Sam heaved a sigh, motioning her to start walking while feeling dread hang heavy in his chest for the Autobot's that were undoubtedly already deceased. "I don't know... but we better do as they say. Here we go again..."