New World Chapter 21: Home Comforts 3, a transformers fanfic

Part 21 - Home Comforts 3

"You're absolutely certain she likes steak?" Phil kept his voice low, and Cable, 'sighing' mentally, chirred an affirmative.

"It's still her favourite meal, sir. Phil. She hasn't changed her mind."

"And this place has good reviews?"

"Ramp says so..."

It was the 9th of November and Phil was wondering if he'd made the right decision. He'd conspired with Beverley to make sure the calendar for the 11th - Poppy's birthday - was kept as clear as possible, and had booked the table at Winchester's Porterhouse steakhouse a month and a half ago, before he'd even checked that she'd like to go for a meal. He wasn't quite sure why he was panicking... no, it wasn't panicking, don't be daft. He was just concerned that everything should go well... but it had been a very long time since he'd been so nervous.

He made his way down to the kitchen, where Graham, seconded to the Consulate while the transformer visitors were there, gave him a grin and a mug.

"Going to propose?"

Phil nearly spat out his coffee. "What!? No, of course not!"

"Why not?"

"Because... you know why not. And anyway, it's none of your business!"

Graham chuckled and shook his head condescendingly. "If you say so. You should discuss it though."

Phil invited the Wing Commander to go forth and multiply, then determinedly ignored him, seating himself and asking the disapproving Steamy for a bacon butty with fruity sauce.

"Does she know yet?"

Phil glared at his superior officer. "No, it's a secret."

Graham nodded. "I'll make sure no-one says anything then. What have you got her?"

The lieutenant sighed and took a bite of his sandwich. "I haven't yet. I don't know what to get her. I'm heading out to see if inspiration strikes."

Graham's eyes twinkled. "Could always buy her a ring..."

Phil growled, finished his breakfast and stalked out of the house to find Blue. He'd arranged the morning off to go hunting for gifts...

xxx

It was Knock Out's turn to stay on watch and he was not enjoying it...

The True Human Brotherhood had turned out to be a very mixed group, funded by three of the richest industrialists in the world, and thus possessed of a staggering amount and variety of resources. The Brotherhood's base was an old steelworks on the banks of a large river to the north of the country, which, while looking derelict from the outside, had been completely converted on the inside into a technological marvel. Well, what the fleshbags thought of as one anyway.

They'd prepared well for their alien visitors - each of the 'Cons had their own comfortable berth, ample supplies of energon - and there was even a wash-room, with a luxurious assortment of solvents, waxes and lubricants provided.

Of course, as Soundwave was able to confirm the first time he jacked into their comms, it was only to keep the transformers 'sweet', as the fleshbag term went, so that they'd hold down their end of the deal. Which was, after all the double talk and convoluted politicking, to spill all the information they had about the Autobots, their officers, strategies, strengths and weaknesses, so that they could be brought under human control.

"And then what happens to us?" Barricade had growled at a man known only as Black, the nominal leader of the group. The human had smiled. Barricade didn't know it, but it made Black look like a shark.

"You'll remain as our honoured guests. Overseers to the Autobots - after all, they're your people, you should have control of them."

Barricade had nodded, satisfied for the moment. Knock Out and Soundwave were less happy. The ease with which the humans had taken out a good number of 'Con warriors in Chicago proved that the short-lived, inferior little parasites were not to be underestimated. The group hated aliens. There was nothing to stop them changing their minds and removing or enslaving their guests once they'd achieved their objectives.

And there were an awful lot more of them than there were transformers...

So the three had organised shifts, so that one of them would remain on watch at all times while the others recharged. Knock Out used the time to quietly research human anatomy and pathology, reckoning that if they were going to be stuck here for any length of time, he may as well use it to find out as much as he could about the enemy.

Soundwave simply remained jacked into the comms, almost becoming a part of the system, only resting when it was absolutely necessary. He was currently cautiously shadowing the Autobot's comms system, able to listen to the less vital, and therefore only lightly encrypted, transmissions from Chatter; Ramp was far more secure and security-conscious, and despite all his discreet efforts the 'Con had been unable to access anything from that end.

Knock Out paused beside the console Soundwave had claimed as his own, and watched the humans go about whatever it was they were doing. There were around a hundred of them, half of whom stayed on the base; they had their own berths on the third floor of the massive building. Most of them were still wary of their visitors, quite rightly in Knock Out's opinion, and keeping watch. The 'Con medic waved a friendly servo at them - and immediately found five weapons with laser sights aimed in his direction. He 'sighed' and turned his back on them, eyeing his colleague.

::Paranoid fleshbags, aren't they?::

::Do you blame them?::

::Not really. Pity we can't... 'play' with them. I've found several organic internal systems I'd like to explore more closely::

Soundwave vented silently. ::When we are less dependent on them for our welfare...::

::I'll look forward to it. Anything interesting on the airwaves?::

::The Moss human will be away from her consulate in two days time. There is to be some sort of celebration in her honour::

::So that sad, traitorous excuse for a consulate will be without its protector?::

::Negative. She will be relatively unprotected, however::

::Hm...:: Knock Out drummed his digits quietly on the edge of the console. ::That opens up possibilities. Do we know where she's going?::

::Affirmative:: Soundwave called up a map highlighting Iacon House, the restaurant, and the routes between the two. Knock Out smiled slowly.

::Give me the details and I'll have a word with Black...::

xxx

Phil arrived back despondent and seated himself in the kitchen, Blue hunkering down at his back with a servo resting consolingly on his shoulder.

Graham handed him a mug of tea. "No joy?"

Phil huffed his exasperation. "I can't find anything she'd like."

"And we did look all over the place. I tried to help but I haven't known Ms Moss all that long, not long enough to know the sort of things she'd like..."

Phil patted Blue's digits, interrupting before the transformer could reach full momentum. "But you tried, Blue, and I appreciate it."

"Why don't you ask 'Beat? Or 'Spin? They both know Poppy well - as well as a transformer can, anyway."

Phil nodded. "That's actually a very good idea."

"I do have them, occasionally." Graham grinned and pushed himself to his feet. "There's still time. If you want tomorrow off as well that'd be fine."

"Thanks, sir. I'm probably going to need it."

xxx

"For Poppy's birthday, eh?" 'Beat inclined his helm. "Is it a special human one? 21st or 50th or something like that?"

"No, nothing like that. But I'd like to get her something nice. Something unusual."

"How about an apple?"

Phil stared at the MGC for a moment. "An apple?"

"Yes. A heritage apple tree."

Well he hadn't expected that, but on reflection it was a lovely idea. Poppy did like apples, and was quietly rather proud of her gardens - even if other people and Muncher did all the work in them. And she loved her holly tree. "That's inspired."

"Thank you."

"So how do we go about it?"

'Beat went quiet for a moment, accessing the net, then vented quietly. "It's really the wrong time of year. Most nurseries supply them from December. But I suppose it's not that far away, should be able to swing it. I reckon we can get Beverley to employ her PA skills, nobody dares argue with her. What sort of apple do you want?"

"Sweet. And it should be pickable as close to her birthday as possible."

"There are a few. D'Arcey Spice, Ballard Beauty, Dawn, Prince Edward..."

"Dawn? There's an apple called Dawn?"

"Yup. Medium sized, pink flesh, sweet flavour, pickable from late October."

"That sounds perfect!"

"If you organise it with Beverly, I'll give Blue the directions. You'll have to collect it. That'll mean a run up to Norfolk."

"No problem. Blue has been itching for a long fast run for a few days now."

"Well that was easy."

Phil laughed and turned to re-enter the house, calling back over his shoulder, "OK, now go on to prove black is white..."

'Beat stared after him for a second or two before the reference clicked. His engine revved a chuckle as he commed the Porsche.

xxx

"That's a lovely idea!" Beverley was already looking up the nursery phone number as Phil kept watch to make sure Poppy didn't decide to drop into the office unexpectedly; she was currently in the rec room with Starstream and Wavefront, but there was no guarantee she'd stay there... "But I think you should get at least two."

"Two trees?"

Beverley nodded. "Maybe even three."

"Three different ones, perhaps..." Phil took another look at the online catalogue while Beverley made a coffee. "OK. Dawn is pickable late October, Queenby's Glory early September, and Discovery is middle of August. That gives her a steady supply of fresh apples all the way through the autumn. Will that be OK, do you think?"

"I think it's perfect." Beverley dimpled at him. "I'll call them, if you'd like to hang on."

"Sure." He settled on the transformer-sized chair and kept his attention on the door while the PA made the arrangements. It didn't take long.

"Right." Beverly finished the call with a satisfied flourish and retrieved the map she'd printed out.. "They'll be ready for you at 2.30 tomorrow afternoon."

"Thanks Beverley, you're a treasure."

"I know." She smirked at him, and he chuckled.

"See you at dinner."

xxx

Abigail found out about the planned meal almost by accident when Brenda mentioned to Laura that Ms Moss and the lieutenant wouldn't be around for dinner on the 11th as Mr Phil was taking their Poppy out for her birthday. Pausing in paring the Bramley apples for dinner, Abigail smiled at them.

"Ooh, nice! Where are they going?"

"Winchester. Porterhouse steakhouse."

Abigail nodded. "I know it - Aaron took me for lunch there once. Lovely food."

"Great atmosphere too - she'll love it." Brenda grinned. "And you never know, he might pop the question!"

Laura chuckled and shook her head. "Nah, don't think so. He's shy and she's clueless."

Abigail bit back a snicker - that really did describe the relationship very well.

"Well it's about time she settled down, and she could do a lot worse. He's a bit of all right is our Mr Phil."

As the conversation turned to men and marriage in general, Abigail went back to her preparation, looking forward to contacting Dinky Pie - Mr Hawkins - in the Australian brony chatroom later.

xxx

If you google UK, Winchester, Porterhouse steakhouse you'll find the place. I haven't eaten there - yet - but it looks wonderful...