Just a heads up, I went back and added the names of the songs and the artists who sang them in the last chapter. I meant to do that, but I was too tired to think straight when I actually got the thing posted. If the last chap confused you (as some of you said it did), let me know what confused you so I can clarify.
Red Alert in this story is more like the one(s) from Armada and Cybertron than G1.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Sitka and Shadowhaunter are mine, as well as Aurora and the Nightmare and any other OCs that show up.
I'm finding that having a facemask is very useful. For one thing, it's very useful for hiding emotions I don't want other people to see. Like right now, for instance. It's taking every micron of patience I have not to dangle this Simmons character by his toes from the top of the Pentagon. I contacted Secretary Keller a few days ago and briefed him on the new situation (leaving out the fact that I'm half human, of course). Keller arranged for us to come to a meeting between the heads of the FBI, the Armed Forces and the Department of Homeland Security, along with Keller and the Deputy Secretary of Defense about a week from then. Apparently, the Pentagon has accessways and a room big enough to accommodate us. The President will be joining us by videophone.
I didn't ask why Keller was going to introduce us to these people. I pretty much know. In times like this, it's a great deal of comfort to know that someone bigger and more powerful than you is fighting the same enemy you are. For the sake of keeping up morale, Keller has asked us not to say anything about the recent ordeal. They don't need to know about the amount of damage the Nightmare has caused us as well. The humans need heroes they can look up to, and who better than those who are already larger than life? I don't like it, but I discussed it with the others—namely Prowl and Jazz, with some input from Red Alert—and they agree with Keller, though some reluctantly. It's too raw of a wound to expose to the "public" eye right now, anyway.
To be quite honest, the prospect of this meeting and the preparation for it has been a welcome distraction for all of us, including Sam and Mikaela, who—obviously—took the news of their friends' deaths no better than we did. They're in school now, or they would have been with us.
Apparently Simmons didn't get the memo. He's currently refusing to let us through the inner "gate" (we transformed inside the outer "gate" to this place—my new form is an HHR, by the way, as it was the only thing I fit that wasn't a minivan), and we need to be there in fifteen minutes. We've been arguing for five, and I'm about ready to blow a fuse. Fortunately, Keller pulls a deus ex machina and yells down from a catwalk I hadn't noticed for Simmons to let us in, then leads us deeper into this sector of the complex.
As we walk in, Jazz tells me in Cybertronian about the episode with Bumblebee during the war with the Decepticons. I laugh out loud at the idea of the cocky Agent Simmons from that time being reduced to a security guard, startling a shapely blond woman smartly dressed in a navy blue pinstriped suit and a purple-haired teen wearing what can only be described as a black vinyl punk-rocker jumpsuit as they exit a room with great stacks of paper files in their hands. Said files fly all over the place, making a gigantic mess for the poor women to clean up. Thankfully, someone had the forethought to put most of them in closeable folders.
That seems to be the last thing on their minds, however, as they stares up at us, especially me. (I am a good four, maybe five feet taller than most of my living compatriots, taller still compared to Jazz and Shadowhaunter, whose alt mode is a Harley, if that tells you anything.) An "uh" squeaks out as the blond tries to decide what to say. The purple-haired seeming teenager just beams at us, like this is the coolest thing that has ever happened to her. As I kneel to get more to their level, Keller and his deputy, Marcus Lyman, walk into the hall, Keller having taken a transit tunnel to the meeting room.
Marcus, having met myself, Prowl, and Jazz a few days ago after being hired in the place of the old deputy secretary (she got eaten by the Grimms' Nightmare while on vacation), is more used to our presence. (No, he doesn't know the whole story, either.) He addresses the women with an amused, understanding smile on his face. I can tell he's remembering how he acted when he was introduced to us for the first time. It wasn't so far from the blond lady's reaction. "Ah, there you are, Miss Hoffman, Miss Keller. I see you've met the Autobots. Prime, this is the Assistant Secretary of Public Affairs for the Department of Homeland Security, Miss Janine Hoffman, and one of the former Sector Seven's youngest and foremost agents, Miss Marsha Antony, who is currently working with Public Affairs on this project. Miss Hoffman, Miss Antony, this is Sitka Prime, Commander of the Autobots, and her crew."
Janine squeaks out a tiny "Hi" as she continues to stare at us. I chuckle and grin behind my facemask, letting my smile reach my optics.
"Hello, Miss Hoffman." I keep my voice quiet, trying not to startle her even more. "It's a pleasure to meet you." I turn my head slightly to look directly at the excited Marsha. "You as well, Miss Antony."
My efforts are rewarded with a genuine, if shaky, smile from Janine, and a barrage of questions from a now-hyper Marsha. "Omigosh, what are you guys? How did you get here? You look like you can turn into cars or something. Can you? Do you have any special powers? What are the rest of your names?"
The nearly-forgotten Keller clears his throat, quieting Marsha, and offers Janine the stack of folders he picked up. "I think it would be better to leave further introductions for the formal meeting, as we only have about seven minutes left to get there." Marsha gives him an irritated look as she takes her stack of files from Marcus.
Marcus looks at his watch and grimaces. "More like three, if we actually want to be in there before they start."
I grin again and lower my hand to floor level in front of Marsha. "Need a lift?" Marsha beams at me and hops on before Keller can so much as complete his confused look.
Jazz kneels in front of Janine. "May I?" She stares at him, like she's noticing him for the first time, then gives a quick, jerky nod, the smile returning to her face. I notice it's a great deal less shaky this time.
Keller and Marcus exchange nervous looks. Prowl rolls his optics and he and Shadowhaunter pick up our remaining two human friends. Marcus looks greatly relieved to find himself on Shadowhaunter's shoulder.
Just when Keller has regained his composure at being picked up and set on a shoulder nearly a story and a half in the air, I make my move. "Hold on tight!" I take off down the hall, Marsha laughing in my left audio as she's jolted around and clinging tightly to my shoulder armor, the others following in what has to be quite the sight for any poor security guard who just happens to be watching through the cameras.
We all skid to a stop just outside the one door that looks big enough to let us in, breathless and laughing at the expressions on our human friends' faces. They all look quite disheveled. I'd momentarily forgotten that they needed to look their best for this.
Just as I'm half-heartedly wondering what to do about said situation, Janine pulls out four combs and passes one to each of her compatriots. We all watch amusedly as the humans fix their hair and put various suit parts back into place. After they've finished preening, Keller and the other humans go inside while we wait by the closed cargo(?) door. (We'd already decided it would be best if Keller prepared those who didn't know of our existence before we just wandered right in.)
I grin at Keller's attempts to explain us without giving it all away. It should be a good afternoon.
I needed to write this. I need people to know that even in your darkest hour, life can be okay. And I'm in a pretty flippin' dark hour, so I know what I'm talking about. Do what you can, and leave the rest to God. There's not point in making yourself crazier over stuff you can't do anything about than you are already going to be. And keep lots of friends around. Those help too. :)