Redline
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Part 11
She was awoken by the gentle rocking sensation of the Peterbilt pulling off of the main highway and onto a side street. The sun had sunk lower on the horizon and was now visible through the windscreen as a blinding lens flair, the colors of the landscape around them blending from the hot, arid, golden yellow browns of cracked dirt and the blue-greens of dry shrubs to a patchwork of light and dark as shadows appeared across the land.
The end of the afternoon brought with it a feeling of approaching serenity, like the sensation of slipping into a lukewarm pool on a hot summer's night. Mikaela yawned and sat up groggily, marvelling at how much colder the interior of the cab had become now that Optimus had had time to rest; stretching her arms over her head, she mumbled a satisfied little 'mhmm' before leaning lazily against the vibrating back wall of the truck's sleeper. She was so comfortable—the events that had transpired leading up to her nap had left her with a fluttering, weightless, satisfied sensation in her midriff that was better than even the best time she'd had with Sam.
God, she thought. He had been… good. It had been a lot better than she'd ever expected, which was saying a lot because they hadn't even technically had sex, had they? She hadn't even removed her clothes. It was incredible—and she couldn't help but wonder, if he was this good while she still kept them on, what could the Autobot do to her if the situation had allowed for them to actually fuck?
The thought was near-hypnotizing, but before she could think any more about it, Optimus had noticed that she was awake. "How are you feeling," he asked kindly, his voice rumbling through the truck and only adding to the fluttering feeling in her stomach.
"M'good," she answered sleepily, peering out the window to try and gauge how long she'd been out and exactly how far they'd travelled—judging by their surroundings, he had pulled them off of the highway and into some kind of ghost-town, but as for what time it was or where exactly they were she could not accurately guess. Waking up from afternoon naps was disorientating at the best of times—let alone after you'd just had an incredibly good time and fallen asleep in the back of a moving truck. "Where are we?" she asked him in confusion.
"I've taken us to the closest refueling station to base," said Optimus, his voice pitched low for her comfort. "I… thought it may be a good idea to, ah… …find sustenance…. for you, before returning to NEST."
Mikaela sat fully upright as Optimus rolled to a stop on the side of the road. Her stomach was feeling painfully empty, now that he mentioned it. The hamburger at the diner with Bee earlier felt like literally ages ago, and while the fresh air, the rush of the open road, and complete insanity of having high-speed sex with Optimus Prime had been super fun, the heavy adrenaline crash was leaving her feeling shaky and weak and she needed to eat.
"Mikaela?" asked Optimus again, his rumbly voice hitting an unusually high octave that caught her attention at once. He sounded nervous again, but as to why, she could not understand. She'd thought the Autobot would be over his nerves by now—after all, he'd basically just (little did she know) let her spend the past couple of hours stroking his stick in more ways than one. "What do you say?"
Stifling another yawn, Mikaela undid her pony before sweeping her hair back into a messy bun, thinking. An absolutely ridiculous idea hit her—here they were, having just had accidental surprise sex together, and he was supposed to be taking her back to base; and yet he was asking if she wanted to stop somewhere for some food instead. Either Optimus was stalling for time for some unknown reason, or the Autobot was making a brave attempt to copy human customs and was asking her if he could take her to get dinner—an act that in itself was innocent, but given what had just happened…
And besides, a simple glance out of the window showed her that they had hardly more than an hour left before the sun would begin to set and NEST's visiting hours would be over. Wasn't he responsible for making sure he returned her on time?
The more she thought about it, though, the more sense it made. It was something the Autobot leader would do—he was ever trying to understand the way the human race worked and she'd seen for herself that even the Autobots occasionally adopted said customs. She couldn't help but smile each time she saw it—there was just something endlessly endearing about it, especially coming from Optimus. It wasn't very often that one found themselves being asked by a giant alien robot if they could take you out for dinner, if that was indeed what he was doing.
Mikaela felt her face blush bright red as this occurred to her, Optimus remaining silent over the radio all the while. "U-um," she choked, flushing even deeper at how stupid her own voice sounded—she was normally really smooth and took being asked out in stride due to the sheer amount of times she'd been pursued by the opposite sex. But this was different—this was Optimus, and there was just something about him that made it so that it didn't matter how long she'd spent around the Autobot or how much sex they'd had together—he was always going to be able to strike a chord deep enough inside of her to render her momentarily speechless sometimes. Especially when he went and said such cute things in that voice…
Mikaela cleared her throat, unable to hide her own nervous amusement. "Uh, sorry," she said with an awkward smile. "But I gotta ask, boss—you're not asking me out to dinner, are you?"
There was a semi-long pause in which she heard the hum of the Peterbilt's cooling system kick in—which was odd, considering they were stationary and the interior of the cab was already quite cool. The Peterbilt wasn't blushing, was he?
"The customs of your species dictate that it would be… remiss of me not to make such a request," he answered, speaking slowly as though he were choosing every word carefully. "Especially not after… after we just, ah…" The sentence hung in the air between them, unfinished.
"That doesn't exactly answer my question, boss…" she said finally.
Another, longer pause. "…It was my intention, yes."
Mikaela was trying to control the surge of amusement that had her almost outright laughing at him. Unsure of why exactly she found this so amusing, she fought to answer him in a level voice, not wanting him to feel any worse than he already did. "I-I see," she coughed.
It was because of how awkward he was about it, not to mention how downright crazy the entire situation was. It felt almost unreal. Not only had she just basically done it with the giant Autobot leader, but now he wanted to take her for dinner for good measure—if it weren't for the fact that the events were undeniably unfolding right before her very eyes right now, she'd never have believed it. It was insane—and there were so many reasons why she should have just said no and demanded he take her back to base straightaway. She knew she was in trouble as it was, and if they kept this up, then he'd be in trouble, too.
Mikaela chewed her tongue. Why did she have such a knack for getting herself into the most unbelievably weird situations like this? It wasn't like she went out looking for trouble all the time—it was that trouble always seemed to find her.
But it could be so irresistible, sometimes—especially when it was found in the form of one very reassuring, amazingly strong, stoic and protective alien robot that had absolutely no right to be as attractive as he was.
"I would be flattered if you would join me, Mikaela, but if you don't want to…" his level voice cut sharply through her thoughts. "That is fine. I understand if you would rather to get back to your home. It is getting quite late, and NEST—"
"No," Mikaela interjected firmly before she could change her mind—a dinner date with the semi was too huge an opportunity to miss. "No, Optimus, I think that's a great idea. It's Saturday night and it's not like I've got anything better to do—I'm totally up for a late night. That is, if we won't get into trouble…"
"I will send a message ahead to Ratchet to inform NEST officials that we will be arriving after visiting hours are over."
"And that's… not a problem?" she asked, blushing even harder because both the sheer hopefulness in Optimus's voice and the idea of him informing the Autobot medic that he wasn't going to be back in time because he was staying out late with her.
Apparently he found something about this funny. Mikaela shuddered as she felt the depth of his laugh resonate inside of her chest. "You are forgetting who will be accompanying you, Mikaela."
"Oh, right," she said, feeling so stupid that she actually slapped a hand to her forehead. "Duh. Like they're going to have a problem with anything you say. Okay, fine—I'm starving, anyways. What's the plan? Where is it we're going, boss?"
No sooner was the question out of her mouth did she realize that there was a distinct problem with their plans that neither of them had mentioned thus far. If Optimus really thought he was going to take her out to dinner—and, judging by the very pleased growl the truck's engine made at her answer, he most certainly did—then how exactly was he about to do this? While Bee could fit through a drive-thru, she very much doubted that Optimus would—did the semi perhaps have a holoform he could use to make it appear that she had a date so that they could walk inside, like Arcee had used on her bike?
But before she could ask, the Peterbilt had pulled off of the shoulder and was making its way toward the only cluster of occupied buildings the derelict road-town possessed. "There is a place…" he reassured her, but left it at that.
"Okay." Mikaela trusted Optimus, and if Optimus was not concerned about it, she felt sure that she did not need to be, either. Climbing back up into the driver's seat inside of the moving truck, Mikaela had to grin when she felt the seatbelt slide over her automatically—he really could be a gentleman sometimes.
He took her to a place that contrasted so well with the nearby dilapidated buildings that the retro, immaculately-pristine diner looked so out-of-place that it could have been taken out of an alternate dimension and placed, smack-dab in the middle of the town and no one would ever have known the difference. Wild flashing lights hid the roof with a neon-rainbow display that made her eyes water and formed little trails in her vision as she looked away—great big spiralled letters spelled the word 'Nancy's', beneath which a solid wall of gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows showed an old-fashioned style parlour with bar which was, to her surprise, crammed full of people.
Likewise, while the derelict town's cracked and worn streets were empty, Nancy's front parking lot was full—every stall was occupied and there was hardly even room for a car to turn around.
"Optimus…" said Mikaela slowly, eyeing the packed interior of the diner worriedly as the Peterbilt drove past the main entrance and pulled into the back instead. "Uh… one question…"
"Yes?"
"How exactly are you going to, um, have dinner with me, again? …There are a lot of people in there…"
But the Autobot did not seem dismayed by this in the slightest. In fact, he'd sounded so pleased with what he said next she had to hold back another laugh. "You will see." that she found herself extremely curious.
She had to admit, she was curious. Optimus rolled toward the back corner of the parking lot, where there were more empty spaces. The rig was so large that he'd need at least four spaces in which to park. Going slowly, she felt him roll almost to a stop before a speed bump—which he crossed with a pained 'oof', and Mikaela thought she knew why. Even for a truck his size, the bump had been a little harsh.
This time, Mikaela was unsuccessful at holding back her laughter. "S-scrape your bumper?" she asked, gasping.
"Ah, no," said Optimus, still sounding pained but he laughed, too. "I am fine—just somewhat oversensitive."
"Oh my god," she coughed, trying to regain control. "I am so, so sorry for laughing—it's not funny. I mean… okay. It's pretty funny. But not because it hurt. But—now I have to know—is this a common thing—?"
Optimus let her giggles subside before he answered. "No, it is not common… but it can happen. Usually it does not unless I am injured, but sometimes, ah…" he paused, and when he continued she had the impression that he was being seductive on purpose, his voice pitched ever so low and gravelly, "Sometimes, when I have been handled roughly…"
Mikaela felt the blood rush to her face faster than blinking. "Oh god… I'm sorry…"
"You do not need to apologize. I did not say that it was an unpleasurable experience."
Suddenly, the cab of the Peterbilt felt boiling hot. "Oh Jesus," she groaned, but her chance to respond in kind was lost in the hiss of air brakes as the semi parked, and she'd looked up at the backside of Nancy's (which was thankfully a lot less lurid than its front had been) to find that the restaurant had none other than menu boards plastered to its siding.
"Ooh!" gasped Mikaela, finally understanding—Optimus had taken her to a drive in! "I get it—haha! You're probably not going to believe me, but I've never actually been to one of these!"
"Have you not?" asked Optimus as he shut down the idling engine, sounding confused. "I believed this was something of a habit for your kind, to be served sustenance—"
"What? Not restaurants in general, silly," she tapped the dashboard, shaking her head with a chuckle. "I mean a drive-in one."
"Oh," said Optimus in embarrassment, catching on. "Yes. …Of course."
"But are you sure they serve trucks?" she asked, looking around the parking lot—none of the other cars parked in the designated spots were rigs like theirs.
She could tell that Optimus's embarrassment deepened, but his voice was level when he spoke. "Hm. I am not positive of the required specifications, as I have not had a companion to try this with before... You are the first, Mikaela."
The amount of emotion the Autobot had managed to put into every syllable of this sentence hit her so hard and so suddenly that she was speechless. His gravelly voice had carried with it not only the sheer gratitude the semi must have been feeling toward her after the adventure of a day they'd had together, but also an undertone of affection. It made her remember exactly how lonely he'd admitted to being, and with a pang, she reached forward and rubbed the dashboard in what she hoped was a soothing, comforting kind of way. It was warm to the touch.
"Thank you," he rumbled.
She was saved from having to reply by the arrival of the drive-in's server. The tall blonde boy must've been about her age, Mikaela thought as she watched him eye the massive Peterbilt, carrying a notepad and wearing a teal apron that clashed horribly with his pale-orange shirt in typical retro-diner-aesthetic. His neon-orange nametag read 'Spence'.
Spence stopped beside the driver's door, and Optimus wound down the window so that she could talk to him automatically. "Hi," she said, forcing a smile.
"Hi. Nice truck," he smirked, eyeing the vehicle again before looking back up at her. Mikaela felt a far-too-familiar creeping sensation as the boy stared at her just a little too long for her liking.
"Thanks," she said coolly, forcing another smile before adding in a far more serious voice, "It's, uh, it's my boyfriend's truck..."
She'd said this calmly, meaning to put to rest any possible ideas this guy might have been having about such a very attractive young woman sitting inside of an equally attractive Peterbilt (seemingly) by herself, before he did something stupid and embarrassed her and Optimus both. It was a technique she did without thinking a lot of the time, because it was more often than not that boys expressed interest in her—although, this time, she had forgotten that Optimus had obviously not been aware of any of this. Unable to voice his surprise over the radio without revealing himself, he had accidentally triggered his horn in his alarm, making Spence jump about a foot and almost fall over himself.
"What the hell!" he yelped in annoyance. "What was that for?"
Mikaela tried to act natural, hitting the top of the steering wheel hard with her palm as she cleared her throat. "It's nothing," she said. "Slipped."
"Right…" said Spence, once again eyeing the truck, only this time with suspicion. "Anyway, I just came over to tell you that we actually don't service semis here… Most of the girls refuse to hand the orders so high up."
Mikaela's face fell and either she was imagining it, or Optimus actually sagged a couple of inches on his suspension. "Oh… okay." Damn it, she thought to herself, flashing the server her best puppydog eyes. Well, at least we tried. "I guess I'll just—"
"Wait."
He seemed to be trying to make up his mind about something, and for good measure, she flashed him her biggest smile yet, showing both rows of her perfectly straight, white teeth while she leant partway out of the window. "Yes?"
"I'll make an exception. This time. But only because you've got such a nice truck…" he said grudgingly.
"Sweet!" she cheered, and proceeded to order a chocolate milkshake and another hamburger with fries while her stomach rumbled at the mere mention of the food. It wasn't until the server was gone that Mikaela realized—she didn't know if the Autobot had anything of his own to eat! Or if he even could eat anything except energon, for that matter—Bee had always been able to take care of himself, so she'd never paid much attention to what it was the Autobots actually ingested for energy besides their specific brand of fuel. She supposed perhaps water or some other kind of fuel by-product would be compatible with their systems, if anything.
"Shit, Optimus, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I forgot—you're probably starving too, and they don't exactly sell pints of energon here—"
"It is all right." His voice was amazingly calm and soothing and immediately made her feel silly for feeling so bad. "I will refuel when we get back to base."
"Okay," she said, not fully believing him but accepting his answer nonetheless.
It was only a couple of minutes until Spence was back, carrying her drink on a small platter in one hand and a very long, polished plank of some kind of fancy dark wood in the other. As he approached she could tell that it was some kind of extended tray fitted with a bracket on each end, which he balanced perfectly, hoisting one end up to her. Mikaela dextrously slid this across the cab with one hand, relieved when Optimus caught on quick and unrolled the passenger window so that she could push the board into position.
Spence then handed her her milkshake, which she accepted happily and took a sip from immediately before licking the whipped cream from her lips and placing it down on the tray.
"Thanks," she said gratefully.
"No problem. I'll be back before too long with your order."
He then handed her some cutlery neatly rolled up in a napkin, and left.
"…Why did you tell that human that this truck belongs to Sam?" Optimus asked her as soon as he was out of hearing range.
Mikaela had to suppress a snort, wiping more whipped cream off of her lips. It was an honest question, but the innocence implied behind it was almost absurd if you forgot about the fact that it was coming from an alien robot that was still somewhat naïve when it came to the ways of humans.
"He was attracted to me," she said plainly.
"And why does that mean that I have to belong to Sam? Why could you not say that I belong to you instead?"
Mikaela was confused. "Did it really bother you that much?"
"No, but…"
She shrugged. "Power of suggestion, I guess. If he knows I have a boyfriend, he'll be less likely to hit on me or something weird. …I hope."
"Oh," Optimus rumbled. "…I see."
"But that didn't stop him from changing his mind about letting us stay," she smirked, taking another sip.
"Do you think that was why he reconsidered—because he thinks you are attractive?"
Mikaela frowned thoughtfully, wondering if Optimus would react positively to her answer or not. "I don't think so. I know so."
Sure enough, the strength of his response surprised her even though she had figured it would irk him because, well, that kind of thing was just generally not his way. As the leader of the Autobots, honesty and integrity were things that Optimus Prime valued very much, and he did not always take kindly to the idea of rule-breaking.
The Peterbilt shook with the Autobot's sound of annoyance. "Absurd," he growled. "…Not that I am disappointed…" he added as an afterthought, trying not to offend her.
"Neither am I, to be honest. It worked out pretty good for us."
"Indeed."
Another awkward silence stretched between them. It was amazing how just a couple of hours ago, they'd been talking what felt like nonstop—but now, the overwhelming notion of what they had done together and what it all would mean once they got back to their regular lives was beginning to sink in. Mikaela had the distinct feeling that the 'bot was every bit as uncomfortable with bringing the subject up as she was, even if it was technically in their best interest to discuss it while they still had the chance.
"Um," she said at length, her voice hitched a little higher than normal. "So…"
"Do you encounter this problem a lot?" asked Optimus very suddenly, and at first, Mikaela was confused as to what he meant.
"Hm?"
"The boy," the semi clarified. "You said he found you attractive and that it was a concern because you are with Sam."
She breathed deeply, thinking about it hard. If she was honest, the answer was yes. Boys never wanted to leave her alone. Simply put, Mikaela was an extremely conventionally attractive young woman, and she suffered from everything that went hand-and-hand with it—meaning that sometimes, she happened to attract too much attention.
It was another part of why her and Sam's relationship was so rocky these days. Mikaela had never given him any reason to doubt that she was loyal (ha, except now, she thought, and the unwanted feeling of guilt pooled in the pit of her empty stomach), but he was very aware of how other men looked at her, and there had been times where, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, she could tell that he was very jealous.
"Yeah," she answered finally. "Yeah, you could say I encounter it a bit."
It was the Peterbilt's turn to think hard. "And you have not once…" he said quietly. "You have not…?"
Mikaela immediately understood. "No."
"Never?"
"Never. Well… until now…" she mumbled, hating herself for saying it aloud.
"…I am sorry."
And god, did he sound it. Mikaela felt her stomach plummet even further. "Don't be," she tried to reassure him. "Don't worry, Optimus. Honestly, I already told you… I wanted this."
But the poor Autobot was still very obviously confused by the entire situation, and she could not blame him. "But you are with Sam," he said.
"I know," she sighed.
"Then … how?"
Mikaela stared out the window. How was she going to explain it to someone who's biological programming just didn't function the way hers did when she couldn't even understand how hers functioned in the first place? Because Optimus had a very valid point, and one she couldn't even come up with a good answer for herself—how had this happened?
"I don't… I don't know," she sighed finally. "I guess… well, it's like I said earlier. There are a lot of reasons… like, Sam's going to college and I'm going to be stuck here working this dead-end job all by myself. And taking care of Cal… I don't know! I kind of really think our relationship's pretty much already over, to be honest. It wasn't something… that was good enough to stand in the way of, uh, this. Unfortunately. If that makes any sense… "
This information seemed to cheer Optimus up somewhat. "So you did not have… intensions of being bonded—?"
"I—what?" she cried, caught off-guard. "You mean like, marrying? God, no. I'm way too young to get married, and besides, Sam hasn't even got the balls to tell me he loves me..."
She actually felt the semi perk up. "That is good for us," he said before adding guiltily, "For this situation, I mean."
"Yeah, don't sweat it. He hardly even acknowledges my existence anymore."
A long pause before Optimus said gravely, "That is terrible."
"I guess you weren't the only one who's been feeling lonely."
But at that moment their conversation was cut short by Spence returning, this time bringing a plate containing the huge hamburger she'd ordered and a steaming serving of fries. Absolutely ravenous, she picked up the burger immediately and began to eat, too hungry to even be embarrassed about how its sloppy sauce dripped down her fingers and hand and onto her plate.
"That looks…" said the Autobot, "…Exquisite."
She couldn't tell if he was kidding or not.
"It ish," she said, her mouth partly full of food. She swallowed, and then took a sip of milkshake. "Mm."
"What is it like?"
"What's it taste like, you mean?"
"Yes."
She picked up a fry, studying it before biting off the end. "Salty… greasy… dreamy. So, so good, but so bad."
"How so?"
Mikaela laughed. "Not good for the waistline. Really good for the mouth," she winked. "Speaking of—what's energon taste like, then?"
"Hmm," the semi rumbled. "It is good."
"That's it?" she asked, taking another bite. "Itsh not like, tangy? Or shalty? Or," she swallowed, "Sweet?"
"It depends," he answered, "On what kind. High-grade is more concentrated, and bitter—whereas its opposite, low-grade, does not really have a taste, but in a good way. It is the simplest form of the substance that we can still derive energy from."
"So like…" she thought for a second, "Low grade is like water? For us, I mean?"
"That is a fair comparison, yes. But you also require additional sustenance."
Mikaela finished the last of her burger and fries and cleaned off her hands, sucking each finger before wiping them on a napkin. "God, that was good," she leaned back into the seat feeling a lot better. "I'm super glad we did this, Optimus."
"Really?"
The undertone of genuine disbelief in his voice tugged at her heart. "Yes," she said, her usual gusto back in full force now that she'd eaten. She slapped the dashboard. "Seriously! You've gotta stop doubting that, boss. You're a pretty great 'bot to hang out with—um, for a kind of grumpy old guy, anyhow…" she laughed.
Optimus chuckled, too. "That," he said, his voice dropping an octave or two as he rumbled lowly, "Is not me. That, is Ratchet."
"Oh my god, you're right!" she giggled.
"Only, it may be best if you did not tell him I said that."
They laughed together, and then silence fell, but it was not the same kind of guilty, awkward silence as before. It was a happy, peaceful silence, a silence filled with just how genuinely thankful the two of them were to be in each other's company, and to have had each other's company throughout the entire day.
It was Optimus who broke it first.
"I am glad we did this too, Mikaela," he said, his voice warm over the radio.