TWOCHAPTERSINONEDAY SAY WUUUUT...

Yes, I decided to write another today simply because I had so much fun with OP. I gotta thank Musical Medli for all the inspiration and encouragement, as well as the advice about Miri meeting Prime's holoform first! I THINK I'M GONNA GO FOR IT GUYS.

Let me know what you think about it. I'm stoked and know EXACTLY how I want to do it.

SOME MORE PRIME LOVE in this chapter, I couldn't help it. Miri's gonna make such a fool of herself, lolz. Can't wait for it. As usual, mistakes are on Megatron...I'm tired and I have to get back to some actual work now. Byyyyyyyyyyez. xoxox

Four days had flown by. Like, flown-out-the-window flown.

Most of the night after she'd broken the news to her family, Miri and her parents had set up shop in the living room to break down the structure of their company. With August's help they had a plan to layoff the employees, which would hopefully provide them with the opportunity for state assistance, much to her father's relief. August had also tasked himself with outsourcing the remaining projects they'd already bid, to other local corporations with family roots and honest dealings.

Dirk hadn't said much, only that he'd break the news to the shop. Miri hadn't missed the look of sorrow that passed over her older brother's features - Dirk loved their company, and their home, in the Midwest. He'd overseen the expansion of the shop and the redesign of the building multiple times; having learned to weld and work metals within its very walls. It hit Miri very suddenly that they'd be leaving everything they ever knew...for the government.

She tried to shake off the cobwebs of worry in her brain, but it wasn't working as she currently watched her father pace the floor in the mudroom. It was Thursday, and she'd be in Washington by day's end, hopefully meeting with the Joint Chiefs on Monday. Lennox had already arranged her transportation - someone from NEST would pick her up and take her to a private air field, where she'd fly to D.C. with Lennox and other members of NEST.

Sitting on the bench in the mudroom, she clasped her hands together on her knees, eyeballing the door as if she expected it to fly off its hinges. She'd prepared a speech, which she hadn't formally done since college, in case she'd be asked to present - she wasn't sure what to expect, and Lennox hadn't been much of a confidence builder. She'd called him almost every day in the four days she'd had to prepare, asking questions and seeking guidance.

All he'd managed to say was, "It'll be fine, you'll be great," with a chuckle and reassurances to not overthink anything. He obviously doesn't know me very well. She bobbed her feet up and down on the floor, before staring down at the square-toed boots. Briefly she hoped she wasn't expected to be in business attire upon the officer's arrival, but she dismissed the thought when her father stopped in front of her.

He stared down at her, and she stood up before him. "I really don't like you going alone like this," he murmured quietly, looking out the mudroom's window. "I should really be going with you. Or at least one of the boys." He scratched through the stubble on his chin, bending to examine the duffle suitcase sitting by the door, checking that the strap was properly attached and that it was balanced.

Miri gave him a thin, appreciative smile, before slipping her phone into her purse. She came up beside her father and wrapped her arms around his chest, resting her head on his forearm as she watched his hands examine her luggage. "I'll be fine, Dad. This is the military. You said yourself they were 'good 'ol boys'." She gave her impression of his tone, giving him a tight squeeze with her arms. "I'm more worried about the meeting than anything else."

He stood, and John rested his hand on her arm, giving it a light pat. "I'm not worried about that, Miri darlin'," he bent to kiss the top of her chastely, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to give a squeeze of his own. "You're a smart girl. You'll say what's right. The Big Man Upstairs'll make sure of that."

She smiled into his shirt, before releasing her hold and stepping out of the mudroom to the kitchen, where her mother was absently drying a plate with a dishtowel. Her thoughts were out the window over the sink, staring into proverbial space, the far away look in her eye evidence of that much. While her father had been worried about Miri traveling alone, her mother had been all for it, insisting that her traveling to the meeting alone showed her strength, and the family's confidence - though, she'd been more than quiet since breakfast, her thoughts kept to monosyllable replies most of the morning.

Miri came up beside her, reaching for the stack of dry plates sitting beside the sink. Opening the cupboard, she stacked the plates silently, giving her mother a soft smile when she looked over and paused her task. Miri lifted one of the plates, which was chipped, and rubbed her nail against the spot. "When we move, we should really look into some nicer dishes," she said absently. "You'd think we were paupers, for God sakes."

Her mother snorted, dropped the towel she'd used, and rolled her eyes, moving to wrap Miri in a hug. She gently held her daughter with her arms around her neck, rubbing her back with a palm. Miri wrapped her arms around her mother's midsection, and rested her chin on her shoulder. She could feel her mother's heartbeat steadily against her sternum, and smiled softly when her mother gave her a solid pat on the back.

"Oh, Miri," she chuckled, her mother looking up to the ceiling. "What was the Lord thinking when He gave me you?" She softly kissed Miri's hair, giving her a light squeeze before shuffling Miri back to look her in the eye. She cupped her face in her hands, the soft pad of thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. Her mother's eyes were sincere, though glazed with a light sheen of tears. "You be safe, hear? And think before you go spoutin' off that mouth of sass you have."

Miri snorted, rolled her eyes, and batted her mothers hands away. "That's the pot callin' the kettle black, Mother!" she insisted sharply, pointing an accusatory finger at her. The corner of Miri's mouth tugged upward with a smile, and she playfully scoffed at her mother's dramatic, flappable hand. "I got it from somewhere, and the Lord is too good to be giving girls sass. Must mean it comes from you."

Her mother's mouth fell open at her daughter's tease. "You watch your mouth, or you can just keep yourself there in Washington!" She tossed the dishtowel at her daughter and was about to retaliate, and Miri squawked when her father came up from behind take her in a pretend choke hold, trying her best to claw herself free of his affectionate embrace.

She was laughing when her mother's gaze fell to the mudroom, and both her and her father turned around to see movement out the window. Her mother immediately withdrew back to her solemn state of silence, visibly withdrawing at the sound of a car door slamming. She looked to John, and then back to her daughter, who was standing in the entry to the mud area, her breathing having deepened into slow, rhythmic breaths.

Her father came up beside her, put a hand on her shoulder, and slid beside her to retrieve her luggage. "Let's get you set, Punkin," he whispered, Miri following behind him to retrieve her purse and the tote with her notes, files, and laptop set on the bench. Slinging them over her shoulder, she plucked her leather jacket from the peg on the wall and draped it through the handle of her purse on her shoulder, turning to face her father.

They stared at one another silently for a moment, her father's expression softened into one of concern. Miri could've sworn that she deciphered tears shimmering in his eyes, but didn't fully have time to discern them before the sharp knock hit three times on the door. Miri hitched in a breath, her chest swollen with nervous trepidation as her father reached for the knob. She didn't fully exhale until the door opened, revealing the familiar face of Major Will Lennox, smiling at her thinly.

Miri was a little stunned to see that Lennox was the one picking her up, and her brow popped tall over her eye. "Major," she greeted him through the screen door. He recognized her with a nod and stepped back as her father opened the door, reaching across the threshold to offer his hand to the officer. Lennox nodded to the man, noticed the bag in his hand, and looked at Miri with a half smile on is lips.

"Miri," he flecked a look to her father, "John," was his greeting, his tone pointed in saying her name, indicative to the fact that he remembered to address them both informally. "I was worried we'd be early, but, since you're ready - you wouldn't mind if we left a little earlier than planned, would you?" He gestured to the luggage, and then reached to take it from John. "It would be perfect if we left now. My flight plan is already a little lagging."

Miri nodded her understanding. "Sure, I - that's not an issue," she looked to her father, her brows raised matter-of-factly. "Well, here we go, Dad. I'm off." She wrapped her arms around his thick neck in a hug, reaching on toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll call from the tarmac in D.C."

He patted her back, nodding. "You better," he turned to intercept his wife, who stepped into his one-armed embrace only to put a hand to Miri's cheek again. "You be safe now, Miriana," her father said, something low and growling rumbling in his chest. "Do your 'ol man proud there with the suits, now."

She snorted and rolled her eyes, noting her mother's tears falling down her cheeks subtly. "Oh, for Lord's will, Mama! I'm not going off to war. I'll be back before you even have a chance to miss me." Roughly seizing her mother in another hug, Miri squeezed her tightly, kissed her mother on the corner of the mouth, and turned to step down the porch to the path, where the Major was already waiting for her.

She didn't look up from her feet before she breached the gate, mildly tripping over it and popping her attention up. Her breath caught and she froze when her eyes landed on the vehicle parked in the driveway, smack in the center of the cement slab before her father's parking space. It took her a fraction of a second to register its presence before her eyes squinted from the beam of light glinting off the chrome right into the depths of her retinas, and she whirled on her booted foot to pin the Major a surprised and disbelieving look.

"What's the Peterbilt doing here?"

. . .

Had he been in his bipedal form, it would've been difficult for Optimus to conceal a smile at the scene that was unfolding before him, on the other side of the home's barrier. The Otten daughter - Miriana, he remembered her name being - was staring at the Peterbilt with an absolutely gobsmacked expression, as if it were the last thing she expected seeing parked in the front drive of her residence.

He supposed it was a little surprising, seeing the truck on such informal terms. After all, the girl had only seen it once, at distance, concealed within the confines of the base. She'd been told it was highly advanced, classified, and beyond a "normal semi," so he couldn't discredit her expression entirely. Though, the bright scarlet color dusting across her features would not be the worst reaction he'd ever experienced.

She came about to the Major so swiftly it was almost startling. The look on Will's face was enough to assure him that he wasn't the only one not expecting her reaction, and her abrupt statement, spoken in a higher octave which indicated her surprise, stopped the Major midstride. Optimus briefly wondered if the woman had always had the ability to render everyone silent, or if it was just a byproduct of her current emotion. Either way, it was entertaining.

Will stumbled for a quick recovery, and Optimus angled one of the sidemirrors subtly to take in the scene a bit more closely. "Oh, well - that. I, well...he's going to D.C.," Optimus found the Major's attention diverted to him, and he felt mildly sympathetic that he wasn't able to do anything to waylay the man's plight. Instead, he watched the man reach up and rub his jaw, his words fumbling over themselves in search of a response. "for, well - uh, diagnostic testing," the man's face exploded with relief, and he nodded as if content with his answer, "for the JCS developmental analysis report, yeah. He's coming with us."

Oh, Primus... It may have been evident to Optimus the man was lying, and he suspected the woman wasn't entirely sold on the statement either, because she looked back at the Peterbilt, and then to the Major once more, a cocked brow over her left eye. Though, Prime noticed that she somewhat relaxed, because the visible lowering of her shoulders was more than evident, even from across the yard. He felt something in his sparkchamber release, and he was surprised to find that he'd been baited in anticipation.

Will moved past the woman, who was still eyeballing him with suspicion, to open the gate she'd almost stumbled over. Prime felt some tension in his form release, suddenly at ease that she hadn't made a scene of his presence. Instead, she fell into step behind the Major, and then stopped before the passenger side of the semi, her gaze following its form all the way up the gleaming smokestacks. Optimus would've been uncomfortable, though he did have to admit - the Peterbilt was an exceptional piece of machinery.

He noticed that she swallowed a thick breath, evidenced by the movement at the rise of her throat. "This is weird," she said suddenly, her voice hardly at full strength, more of a mutter than anything else. She reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear, adjusting the bag at her shoulder as she did so. Optimus felt her gaze fall over more parts of them than he felt comfortable with, but ultimately found her admiration flattering.

He felt his nerves tighten when she approached the truck. Lennox, on the driver's side, patted the front fender with a steady hand, as if reassuring him that things were fine. It wasn't unusual for soldiers to put hands on the alternation forms - it was a consequence of having more than one form with nerve receptors. Prime was fairly used to human contact. But, he wasn't expecting the burst of electricity that raced through him when Miriana touched a single fingertip to the door, gently tracing it along the curvature of a painted flame. When the rest of her fingertips gently fell to the paint, tracing their way along, Optimus wasn't entirely certain of what shot through him.

He was so surprised at the gesture that he hitched a breath, the entire Peterbilt stiffening as he did so. She seemed to notice something happen because she paused, looked closely at the truck, before raising her eyes to the mirror, which he'd returned to its usual position. Her eyes narrowed, as if she was suspecting of its presence, but her attention fell away when Will moved around the front of the Peterbilt, peeking around the front to see if she'd been alright.

"Yeah," she responded him confidently, as if nothing were the matter. Satisfied, Will moved back to the dominant side of truck, climbed inside, and deposited her luggage in the back cabin as effortlessly as anything. Optimus relaxed when the Major situated himself into the driver's seat, the seatbelt clicking home out of habitual habit. Immediately, Prime disengaged the nerve receptors within the cabin, lest his passengers fumble his way into more...sensitive motions.

However, when the woman looked back to the mirror, a brow raised over her one eye, Optimus had the sinking feeling that she wasn't as naïve as the good Major had first perceived.

. . .

Lord, the Peterbilt.

It did things to the inside of her as they eased out of her family's driveway, the throaty rumble of the engine electrifying the cavity of her chest as she leaned out the window to wave at her mother and father. They were standing on the porch, seeing her off, and only once the house faded from the side-mirror's view did Miri relax back into the passenger's seat, taking in the cab of the truck. From her place in the passenger seat it seemed almost otherworldly, but she may have been a bit excited - for a second she could've thought she'd felt the thing move, but she'd dismissed it as nothing more than a byproduct of sexual arousal.

It was beyond pristine, each and every inch of chrome and leather practically sparkling; in stark contrast to the exterior of the vehicle, the more she thought about it. Though it wasn't nearly as battle-hardened as the first time she'd encountered it, the presence of scratches, dents, and twisted metal did still remain. It had been cleaned and somewhat shined, though whoever had worked the paintjob on this beast had done it a disservice - give her a bottle of wax and a rag and she'd have those flames absolutely gleaming.

Her fingertips moved across the stitched leather easily, as if memorizing every detail. She'd never actually driven a semi, but as she watched Lennox shift through the gears almost seamlessly, she suddenly envied their seating assignments. Always a fan of any kind of truck with horsepower, for a moment she visualized herself in the opposite site, sliding through gears smoothly, feeling the pull of power pulsing through her body from a trembling engine. Goosebumps suddenly shot up her arms, and a bolt of heat raced down her spinal column.

Her mouth was dry and she didn't realize the Major had asked her question until he was looking at her. She lifted her gaze from the gearstick and blinked at him twice, entirely uncertain of what he'd asked. The blankness on her face must've been more than readable, because Will shot her a smirk that told her he'd seen her lapse of judgment. A blossom of heat erupted on her cheeks and she looked to her purse, which was balanced on her lap.

Will's chortle was almost indistinguishable. "I'll take that as a no," he confirmed, looking back to the rode. Miri watched him drive - she'd never seen a man so nonchalant at the wheel. Especially a wheel that was government-top-secret and so technologically advanced. She could practically feel the dollars signs seeping into her skin from the leather of the seat; could almost taste the wealth with every breath - not mentioning the absolutely delicious scent of sparks and diesel.

Why is it so God-blessed hot in here...? Her mouth suddenly filled with a dryness she didn't expect, and she rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek, trying to churn up moisture. All she ended up doing was absently pressing the muscle between her teeth, half expecting someone to catch her in her thoughts.

She shook out of her delusional state of heated infatuation. "I- I'm sorry?" She stumbled to recover, laying her arm along the window's ledge. She drummed her her nails against the smooth leathers, her gaze lost to the rolling pavement. Actually, she was more focused on the fenders and the wheels beneath them, which practically attacked the pavement as they sped forward. Her mouth suddenly went dry thinking about the rig, and just how delectable it was - she already knew it was privately owned, and she couldn't even fathom the absolute ego behind the truck's ownership.

If he's even half as sexy as this rig, I'm there for it. She drug her tongue across her front teeth, snapping back into reality once again when she heard the Major's laugh beside her. She panicked, her eyes widening as she processed through her thoughts, frantically wondering if she had actually confessed such a revelation out loud. However, she was thankful when Lennox clarified, a smile on is face.

"I asked you if you'd ever driven a semi before," the glint in his eye was mischievous, and almost boyish. "But I'll take that as a no. Just an admirer, huh?" He sat back in the seat, a light hand lazily on the bottom of the wheel, two fingers draped through it as his elbow rested on the door. Miri had to blink and bring herself back into the moment, because she suddenly felt as if she'd been transported into some music video or sex tape, unsure if what she was experiencing was actually real, or a figment of her imagination.

"Why would you ask that?" She said, her voice not at all filled with its rock-solid confidence as it usually was. "That's a strange question, Major," she tacked on, moving to untuck a curl from behind her ear. While she was hoping that it would cover the blossom of heat on her nose, when she flipped down the passenger visor to expose the mirror and her reflection, the notion left her. Her gut sank when she found her expression not only fully embarrassed with a red hue, but painfully unattractive.

Lennox snorted. Miri had to admit - she was thankful the man was loosening up. Not all starch and shoulders after all, was the thought that made the corner of her mouth lift in a grin. "Well, it'll be a long flight if we can't make casual conversation, ma'am, and you seem pretty taken by this thing, so I thought I'd ask." He shrugged his shoulders casually, as if he'd simply asked her what color the sky was instead of making a smart-lipped comment about her sexual appeals.

She smacked the visor closed, offended by her own appearance - but not nearly as offended by her own face as she was Lennox's comment. She flashed him a narrowed look from her place in the seat, and turned to lean against the door, trying especially hard not to smirk at him and remain serious. Instead, his side-eye cracked her face into a smile and she snorted awfully, moving a hand to cover her mouth as she beamed at the soldier, who had an attractive and lighthearted quirk on his face.

She wagged a finer at him. "You're skating on thin ice, Major Lennox, I must warn you." She sat up and reached into her purse, retrieving the tube of lip-gloss she'd tossed in quickly that morning from her bathroom vanity. Putting on a few coats, using her reflection from the visor again, she batted it closed, screwed the cap on, and tossed it back into her purse with a dramatic flick of her wrist. Looking back to Lennox, she lifted a brow. "And for heaven's sake, don't call me ma'am. That's just plain rude."

Lennox's laugh was overshadowed by a downshift of the semi's engine, it's throatiness searing a spike of heat into her blood. Completely ignoring the scent of sweet peach on her lips from her gloss, she bit her lower lip and rolled it inward, casting another look outside the Peterbilt's window. Even from her reflection in the glass she could see the dust of red on her face.

It was going to be a long trip to D.C.