Author's Note: The second book of TF: Lux Eterna. And yes, this is a completed fic, so don't ask when I'll be updating it, okay? ~_^
Warnings: Death, destruction, mayhem, telepathic teens, robo-yaoi, mostly OCs
Disclaimer: Transformers and it's canon characters belong to Hasbro/Takara. I claim all the OCs and take full responsibility for conjuring up the plotline of this fic. Lyrics quoted as listed.
Chapter 4: Resistance Is Futile
All my words are falling short
And there's so much I want to say
Want to tell you just how good it feels
When you look at me that way
- David Gray, "Please Forgive Me (Half a Mind)"
"News again?" Nayla sighed. "What is it now? Have we not had enough yet?"
"Hey, I have to keep up somehow. Besides, it's homework."
"Univision is homework? I thought Shakespeare was homework?"
"Shakespear is your homework," Variance teased gently.
"Homework you are delaying by tying up the desk unit. If you must watch the news, please use the entertainment unit."
"I didn't want to disturb your nap," he replied as he stood. She relented and smiled up at him, lightly touching his shin before climbing up onto the desk. Four months and her life was completely different. For the first time in years, she was in school, after a fashion. Morpheus, as senior telepath on Earth, had set out a course of study for her telepathic and telekinetic abilities. He had also mapped out a general education course, so she could earn a high school diploma and pursue higher education. Render had taken up the responsibility of being her tutor, and she was a demanding teacher. Variance was able to help and her schedule was perhaps less demanding that that of a normal high school student in that her day was typically four lessons, sometimes five. On the other hand, her lessons were split between three "schools" - Telepath, general, and Prowl's reorientation lectures - and tended to be in session thirteen days out of fourteen. But she didn't mind; it kept her busy. Moreover, sitting in on Prowl's lectures had helped a great deal in getting herself oriented to the Autobot way of life.
Nayla mentally set aside the lilting cadence of the Spanish news report, focusing on her homework. Render was starting an English literature course, beginning with Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. She was having a hard time following it, so she was looking forward to hearing Render's insights.
Coming in! Render's cheerful mindvoice called out.
"Variance, Render is here."
"All right, I'll clear out," he chuckled, switching off the news as the grey cassette-jaguar padded into the room.
Would you please tell your foolish partner that he needn't leave on my account.
"I have told him before, but I am made to think he does not care to listen."
"More like I find it very frustrating to be hearing only half of a conversation."
Render leaped up to the desk to join Nayla with a low purr.
Then perhaps you should practice using your mindvoice, Little One.
"It feels strange," she sighed, absently stroking Render's neck. "I am not used to it, I suppose."
Nor will you ever be if you do not practice.
"I suppose," she conceded.
"See? Pure frustration being around you two. Where's Remix anyway? At least when she's here we can ignore you together."
She does occasionally have other duties, Render purred. Today, however, she is helping Morpheus with your quarterly evaluation.
"Has it been so long already?"
You started out of sync, but December ends in another ten days.
"Christmas is coming," Nayla sighed, suddenly depressed.
And you have much to be grateful to have received.
"Perhaps this year you will have a reason to wake up early and rush for the tree?"
"It would be the first time I have ever done such a thing. We did not celebrate Christmas when I was a child. And if you will notice . . . we do not have a tree."
"There's a tree in the Rec. So I guess it'll be a first for both of us," Variance murmured, touching her shoulder briefly before walking out of the apartment. Nayla sighed again, catching herself staring at the closed door for no good reason.
You become more like us every day, Render sent gently, settling next to Nayla's chair.
"I do not understand."
You love him.
"I. . . ." Yes, she sighed. Yes, I do. I know it is foolish, but. . . .
Love is often foolish, sometimes vain, but never without cause. Variance is easy to love.
But he's an alien! Nayla whimpered. We're completely incompatible.
Not completely. After all, you are already linked. You have lived with him for four months. Can you truly say you have nothing in common?
"That's not what I meant," she murmured aloud.
I know, dear one, I know. And I don't mean to trivialize the differences. Yes, Variance is easy to love, but he himself is slow to allow affection into his life. Still, you have been good for him; the brittleness I sensed in him when he transferred here is fading under your influence.
"I only wish. . . ."
There is an old human saying: if wishes were horses, peasants would ride. Wishes alone will yield nothing.
"I cannot make him love me."
No, you can't.
Render reached out to waken Nayla's laptop.
Now then, how goes your readings?
"I finished Ethics earlier; I wish humans could have such things for those of us with talent."
Perhaps someday. And the rest?
"I am hoping to go stargazing tonight. The constellations are just so much mush in my head right now. And I am hopelessly lost with Shakespeare. The words don't make any sense."
Archaic English can be difficult. Perhaps a translation into French would make it easier? Teletran could certainly provide that.
"I keep forgetting I can do that," Nayla replied ruefully. "I am so used to everything being in English here."
It would be wise to continue to read the English version, unless you wish to attend a French university, as you will probably be faced with Shakespearian English again. But Teletran has a vast library of study aids. It would be foolish to ignore them, her tutor sent with an amused chuckle.
Now, let's see what we can do today.
Variance flicked the recall switch, then settled back to wait for the target film to come back. The computer could give him the results, but he liked being able to hold the target and judge the marks for himself.
"Well, well, well . . . if it isn't Variance. . . ."
Sunstreaker. Variance suppressed a flinch; nothing he did was ever good enough for the taciturn co-commander of the home guard. It didn't matter that the yellow warrior treated everyone but his brother with the same disdain, Variance's pride always came out wounded.
"Your aim's off," the subcommander commented dryly, pointing to the returned film.
"It's a new weapon. I haven't ever used it before," he replied defensively. He could see Sunstreaker's point and mentally adjusted his aim as he queued up a fresh target. Once the computer signaled it's readiness, Variance stepped up to the line and fired five times. He felt a tingle between his shoulders when he realized that Sunstreaker had stayed back and watched him. Acutely aware of the warrior's gaze on him, he flicked the recall switch again.
"Overcompensated. Recoil's pulling to your left, see?" the other mech grunted, pointing out the off-set on the last three shots. Variance looked up at Sunstreaker in surprise.
"Here, step back and let me show you."
Too shocked to do anything else, he stepped back and passed his rifle to Sunstreaker. The yellow warrior fired once, paused for something, then fired four more shots.
"Now you try."
Variance switched places, watching as the range reset itself. Sunstreaker's first shot had gone wide of the inner circle, but the other four were a tight cluster at the center. Variance adjusted his alignment, then fired five more shots in quick succession. But even as he fired, he could tell they were off.
"You're not listening, are you?" Sunstreaker chastised. Variance really wished someone else would come onto the range. Maybe then Sunstreaker wouldn't feel the need to harass him.
"The recoil pulls back and left point eight degrees. You need to compensate with each shot, not just once."
"Point eight degrees isn't even worth this . . . this aggravation!"
Sunstreaker pulled the film down before Variance could reach it, scowling.
"You adjust once, then never again. See? Each shot drifts left. You're too tense; relax and take your time. There's no one else down here."
As if I don't know that, he thought sourly. Variance stepped up to the line once more, this time purposefully pushing the subcommander's presence from his awareness as he took aim on the target. This time he paused to make sure each shot felt right before firing.
"See? Was that so hard?" Sunstreaker commented. Variance resisted the urge to yell at the arrogant warrior; he had helped, in a way. But he had come down here to relax, not to be hounded.
"Now, let's try it again, only with a little more of a challenge."
Variance wasn't sure he liked the smile on Sunstreaker's face. He was pretty sure he didn't when he saw what the other mech had done to the range - the target had moved back a hundred meters. But he wasn't about to let the other warrior chase him off so easily.
It was almost half an hour later before the subcommander was satisfied with Variance's shooting.
"What else do you have on you?"
"Just my usual rifle," he replied with a confused frown.
"Let's see what you can do with that."
Variance wanted to ask why, but at the same time, he was leery of offending a superior officer. Especially one who had actually been teaching him. So instead he switched weapons. His scatter blaster was a comfortable, familiar weight in his hands. He reset the range to reflect the change in weapon, then squeezed off five shots. He could feel Sunstreaker watching him as the pellets zipped towards the target, but he felt confident in his own ability. He had used his scatter blaster for almost two vorn; he knew all it's ins and outs intimately. And as the sprays impacted on the target, he could tell he had bested his previous target record.
"Impressive. Now here's how you can do even better."
Variance wanted to be angry, but Sunstreaker was actually being helpful in his advice. They spent no more than five minutes on his blaster before the senior warrior was asking what other weapons he was carrying. When he confessed to not having anything else, Sunstreaker offered one of his own, claiming that he needed to be able to pick up any weapon and fire accurately. He wasn't about to argue with the co-commander of the home guard. However, after forty-five minutes and three different weapons, he was beginning to wonder at the yellow warrior's motives.
"Not that I'm not grateful," he started, trying to sound casual, "but why are you helping me?"
Silence hung between them for a moment. Variance focused on changing the rifle clip, almost afraid to see the other warrior's expression.
"You're part of the last line of defense. You'll be here, guarding our rear, while the rest of us charge out to do battle. You get to hang back while we risk life and limb. So excuse me for wanting to know that, if I have to fall back, I'm falling back to someone who can actually handle it!"
"I should've known," Variance grumbled.
"You want rearguard, fine; Primus knows somebody's gotta do it. But I'll be scrapped if I'm gonna let you sit back and get an easy ride. Not when the state of my plating could depend on you being able to hold onto our fallback position!"
"Everything's always about you, isn't it Sunstreaker? Well I've got news for you, buddy: there's things more important than your bloody patina!"
Angry beyond words, Variance threw the rifle at Sunstreaker and stalked out of the range. He could barely credit how angry he was at the selfishness of the home guard co-commander. Variance stalked the halls of the downed cruiser in a dark cloud, unwilling to go home even though he knew Nayla was already suffering from his mood. He needed to work off his anger. The simulation rooms sounded like the ideal solution. When he saw Sideswipe walking out of one, however, he all but accosted the red warrior.
"You tell your stinking brother to keep his sorry skidplate away from me! I don't need his kind of help!"
"Whoa, whoa, dude, Variance. . . . What gives? No, wait, not here. . . ."
Sideswipe grabbed the aerofoil that stretched across Variance's back as the other turned to walk away and dragged him into the sim room he had just vacated.
"Computer, engage privacy mode," the red warrior ordered as he released the tactician.
"Sorry about that. I know how you feel about being touched, but you can't just say something like that and then expect me to just let you walk away. Sunstreaker may be an ass, but he's still my brother."
"He's not just an ass, he's an arrogant, self-centered, delusional, domineering, self-important, vainglorious, son of a sewer cleaner!"
"Hey now, he is not a son of a sewer cleaner!"
Variance stopped cold. Of all the myriad responses he could have expected, that had not been one of them.
"This is going to be one of those long talks. . . . Computer, lounge, no program."
The room obediently morphed from the dull gunmetal grey, yellow and silver matrix grid of an unused sim room to the mellow oranges and greys of an Ark lounge. Sideswipe sank down into a chair, gesturing for Variance to join him. After a moment's hesitation, he sighed and settled into a chair across from the subcommander.
"All right, Var, what happened?"
"What happened is your brother is an arrogant slaghead and I'd appreciate it if you told him to stay away from me."
"Now, see, that doesn't really tell me anything," Sideswipe replied, grinning slightly. "I already know he's a slaghead and anything else you'd care to call him, so how about helping me out and explaining just what he did that has you so worked up you're willing to risk court martial for assaulting a superior office, okay?"
"C-court martial?"
"Easy, Var. I'm not going to do anything. But you did assault me," Sideswipe explained with a relaxed grin. Variance settled back in his chair, ignoring the chiming of his personal commlink. He could have gotten himself into serious trouble with his anger.
"Hey Var, talk to me," the red warrior murmured.
"Everything's always about him, isn't it?" Variance sighed at last.
"Not really, but he acts like it a lot. What happened?"
"Render came for Nayla's lessons, so I figured I'd get out of their way. Rifle range was empty, which was a pleasant surprise. I'd just picked up a new sniper rifle, so I thought I'd work with it awhile. You know, get a feel for how it shoots. I'd just finished my first target when your brother shows up and decides to tell me everything I'm doing wrong. Arrogant prat. . . ."
"That's it?"
"Oh no. First he gets all snippy over a point eight degree recoil shift. Then he decides I'm not clustering my shots tight enough. . . ."
"So walk away. You were off-duty. He was off-duty. No rank, so no harm, no foul."
"Well . . . but he was right and he was actually kinda helping. Yeah, I was annoyed when he said the sprays were too loose since I've had my scatter blaster for two vorn, but he helped. Then he goes off and insists I use one of his. Then another. And another. Spent an hour and a half down there, trying to make him happy."
"So . . . what, you're pissed because he was actually teaching you how to be a better warrior?"
"I'm pissed beause he only did it so he could feel better about his precious patina!"
"How do you know that?"
"He said so!"
"I'm missing something here. . . ."
"How long have you known I'm on rearguard?" Variance asked suddenly.
"Including the last ten seconds? About ten seconds. When did you volunteer for Emergency Reserve?"
"I didn't. I didn't know I was on the rearguard until he told me."
"Yeah, that sounds like the sort of thing he'd research. What's your point?"
"My point is I didn't volunteer, someone assigned me. But even if I did volunteer, that doesn't give him the right to treat me the way he did."
"What did he say? His exact words. I know I'm missing something here. . . ."
"His words? 'You want rearguard, fine; Primus knows somebody's gotta do it. But I'll be scrapped if I'm gonna let you sit back and get an easy ride. Not when the state of my plating could depend on you being able to hold onto our fallback position.' Which is where I threw his rifle at him and walked out."
"You asked him, didn't you?" Sideswipe asked, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.
"What?"
"You said he spent an hour and a half with you, teaching you how to improve your technique. You asked him why, right?"
"If you're trying to say this is my fault. . . ."
"No, no, it's not your fault. I know that, and you're right, he was being a jerk and a half. Thing of it is, I know why he's that way."
"So enlighten me," Variance groused.
"You know, I am still your CO," Sideswipe chuckled as he leaned forward once more.
"Look, everyone knows Sunstreaker's a jerk. Everyone knows he's not here to make friends."
"I don't understand."
"Everyone knows Sunny doesn't care about anyone but us."
Variance frowned at the intense look on Sideswipe's face. The red warrior was trying to tell him something, if only he could figure out what.
"This war makes it hard to care about anyone," Sideswipe said softly. "Caring leaves you open to heartache. But I don't have to tell you that. . . .
"Everyone knows Sunstreaker doesn't have friends."
Their gazes met and held for a long moment, and then slow realization dawned on the younger warrior. He powered down his optics to half as he sank deeper into his chair. He felt like an idiot.
"He wasn't helping because I'm rearguard," Variance murmured, "he was trying to be a friend."
"If he was worried about our last line of defense, he'd have no reason to single you out, Var. You're already a strong fighter, better than some of the other emergency reserves."
"He was trying to be nice, and I threw it in his face. I am such an idiot."
"Hey now, you didn't know. And he was trying to put you off. You cornered him without meaning to and he reacted. After all, everyone knows Sunny isn't interested in anything but himself," Sideswipe replied with a gentle chuckle.
"I still feel like an idiot."
"Yeah, well . . . I'll talk to him, see what he says about all this. . . if you're willing to give him another shot. . . ."
"I . . . Primus, why me?"
"Why not? What, you been having problems lately? Someone giving you a hard time?"
"I just . . . I seem to be attracting everyone's attention lately."
"Neo still crowding you?"
"At Nayla's prompting," Variance sighed.
"Right now, I'd say she knows you better than you do yourself. She's probably worried about you being up in officer's territory all by yourself. Single occupancy can be rough, even when you're eased into it, let alone when you're shoved," Sideswipe offered with a sympathetic look.
"I'll talk to my good-for-nothing brother, catch his end of it, and we'll see where it goes from there. Just know that there's no rule saying you have to be alone."
Variance nodded, watching in sullen silence as the red warrior exited the room. While it was a relief to know there was a method to Sunstreaker's madness, he wasn't sure how he felt about the yellow warrior trying to befriend him. Sunstreaker wasn't like Sideswipe; he went out of his way to make it very hard for anyone to like him.
"Hey Vari . . . everything okay?"
"Neo? What are you doing here?"
"Well, there's some crazy rumors going around, so I thought I'd better get the story from the horse's mouth, so to speak."
"Rumors?"
"Crazy stuff about you throwing a gun at Sunstreaker. He's been pissing and moaning like you'd shot him or something, but for all his grousing, he's refusing to file a complaint. There's some pretty twisted rumors flying around to explain why that might be."
"What sort of twisted?"
"That you've bewitched him," Neo breathed, his face suddenly only inches from his neck. The charcoal warrior was quite careful not to actually touch him, but every tactile sensor was screaming with the proximity of the mech behind him. Conflicting wants pulled at him, threatening to tear him apart. The desire to flee, to regain his personal space at any cost. And the countering longing to let go, to release all his fears and submit to the terrifying need to feel Neo's touch.
"Have you, Variance?" the telepath whispered, warm air venting past his cheek. "Have you bewitched him as you have me?"
"What? No . . . no, I've done nothing. . . ."
"Good," Neo purred luxuriantly, his hands hovering mere centimeters above his arms. "I wouldn't want to think I'd lost you to him"
"Neo. . . ."
"You can't keep fighting me, Variance, can't keep fighting the desire you feel in your spark," he whispered, his voice like a caress.
"Neo . . . this isn't right. You have a bondmate. . . ."
"Yes, and he knows all about us."
"Neo, there is no us."
"No, not yet," Neo purred, fingers feather-light on his right shoulder, "but soon, I think. Very soon. I can feel the desire burning within you, Vari."
"Neo," he gasped, switching off his optics. That was a mistake and he knew it the second he lost sight of Neo. Without visual, his imagination was running away with itself. Running in directions that frightened him.
"Neo, stop this. . . . Please. . . ."
He was acutely aware of every breath of air against his outer plating, intimately conscious of the touch of Neo's fingers on his shoulder. Teasing, caressing. He could escape that touch easily, if he wanted. A twitch of his shoulder, a single step forward, and the contact would be broken. It would be so simple. And yet it was such a struggle to even power up his optics.
"I engaged the privacy lock when I came in, Vari. We're both off-duty for the rest of the day. There's no one to interrupt us. . . ."
"Nayla. . . ."
"She'll be fine, you know that," Neo murmured. The slender operative slipped around to stand in front of Variance, cobalt optics glowing with a seriousness that barely masked the raw desire beneath it.
"I'm not asking you to bond with me," he murmured, fingertips flitting against Variance's cheek. "Just . . . pair with me, Var. Take that first step, please. . . ."
"Just pair with you? You make it sound so . . . casual."
"Var, it is casual . . . but it would be a start. Stop fighting yourself, love. I know you want me. Why must you refuse what is freely offered?"
"Because it's wrong. . . ."
"Wrong? Where's the wrong? I love you, Var. I know you feel the same. Morpheus approves of you," Neo murmured, gently pressing his palm against Variance's cheek. Warmth rose from the hand on his cheek, pushing down the fear.
"Neo. . . ."
"What more do you need, my love?" Neo breathed, his face only a handful of centimeters from his own. He flinched at the proximity, instinct howling at him to pull free, yet he was unable to do so, unable to ignore the rightness of Neo's touch. And unwilling to fight the warmth rushing through him from the hand on his cheek.
"Neo . . . this isn't fair. . . ."
Instead of responding, Neo closed the distance between them to press his lips against Variance's mouth. The tactician froze, uncertain how to react to the insistant nipping. Gentle hands slid down his arms to pull him closer. Variance shivered, his arms reaching up to wrap around Neo in order to steady himself. Heated nips and kisses trailed from his mouth down his neck, Neo's hands sliding around his waist. A soft whimper betrayed him.
You know you want this . . . know you need this, the telepath's mental voice whispered though his thoughts. He whimpered again, his thoughts turning over the idea of being with Neo. He was attracted to the telepath and his touch felt so right. . . .
You're thinking too much, Neo teased as he nipped at his neck. Stop thinking about what you're feeling and do something about it.
When he hesitated yet longer, Neo planted images into Variance's thoughts. Variance gasped in shock at the graphic and specific nature of Neo's desires. The telepath paused in his own seduction, pulling back a half step to look up at Variance with questioning optics. Understanding flickered through the shorter Autobot's optics, his hand reaching up to stroke Variance's cheek.
"You've never done this before," the telepath whispered, his voice lightly touched with sadness.
"No," he replied quietly, his mind still reeling from the images Neo had implanted. Gentle hands stroked his shoulders and arms, offering a quiet distraction as Neo stretched upwards to capture his mouth in a tender kiss. His own body betrayed him, sighing as joints relaxed under the loving assault.
"I'm sorry for my assumptions, my Variance," the telepath murmured. "Think nothing more of it, beloved. Only trust in me, and I promise you will have no regrets."
"I . . . I don't --"
"Shh," he interrupted, resting two fingers against Variance's lips. "You don't need to do anything, my love. I know enough for us both. Let me be your guide."
Neo smiled, his hands still sliding gentle caresses across his outer plating. Tactile sensors hummed softly, a contrary sense of contentment rising within him at being able to just hold Neo in his arms. This was the right place, the right time . . . the only place he ever wanted to be.
As it should be, my beloved Variance. This . . . this peace is only the beginning. . . .
Nayla gasped at the sudden influx of raw emotion from Variance. Such a drastic change from his earlier anger made her head spin. Then she felt Render's gentle presence in her thoughts, separating her from the chaos of her beloved Variance's thoughts.
Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, Little One. You have achieved what you sought.
"This is not what I sought, as well you should know."
You wished him to be happy. And you are the one who pushed him towards Neo.
"This is not what I wanted," she grumbled, leaving her desk to seek out the small cache of medicines they kept on hand. She rarely chose to take any sort of medication for her ailments, but for her headaches she would make an exception.
"I am sorry to ask this, Render, as I know I have much to learn yet, but I do not think I could give your lesson the proper attention it deserves while I still possess this headache. Perhaps we could continue another time?"
Of course, child, the mechajaguar purred gently. Rest awhile, meditate and recenter yourself. Only promise me, Little One, that you will not begrudge Variance his happiness.
Nayla said nothing as Render's muzzle touched her forehead. She wanted to make that promise for her tutor, but in her heart, she feared she couldn't keep such a vow. Yes, she wanted Variance to be happy, but with her, not with Neo. The charcoal telepath was only supposed to be a friend, not a lover. Now any chance she could have had with the tactician was forever lost.
He has earned his right to his happiness, Nayla, her tutor scolded. Do not force him to choose between you; I very much doubt you would care for the result.
"I know, Render, I know, it is only . . . I love him. He is my life. . . . But I am not foolish enough to think that I have any meaning in his life."
You do him a disservice to think that way. But if you truly believe you mean so little to him. . . .
Render left her, breaking their mental contact abruptly, the telepathic equivalent of slamming a door in someone's face. Added to her slowly worsening headache, it was enough to elicit a whimper of pain. But her tutor was already gone. Quickly dosing herself with two aspirin, she retreated to her bedroom. A nap was unlikely to do anything to help her headache, but at least if she was asleep she wouldn't have to feel it.
Variance felt . . . guilty, holding Neo to his chest. They had tied up the simulation room for four hours, just being together. But after denying the attraction he felt for the slender operative for so many months, he was reluctant to release his newly-claimed lover.
"And to think you were so worried," Neo murmured softly. "My silly Variance. Just think how much better it will feel when --"
"Don't Neo," Variance interrupted. "Don't push. If I choose to bind myself to you, it will be at a time of my choosing . . . and not now."
"Spoilsport," Neo replied in a light whisper, snuggling closer. Variance sighed, but refused to rise to the bait.
"How much longer do we have?"
"To be together? As long as you wish, my love. We both have the rest of the day free."
"I'm surprised someone hasn't charged in on us, demanding to know why we're tying up the room."
"No one will," Neo replied, lightly stroking Variance's chest. "Morpheus has the room marked off as reserved."
"Morpheus?"
"Mm . . . told you he approved of us. Has from the beginning."
"And you don't find it at all strange that your bondmate is helping you acquire a new lover?"
"Should I? We've been together for a couple million years now. We've both taken lovers before, sometimes with the other's help, sometimes even with active interference. . . ."
Variance shook his head in disbelief as Neo's voice trailed off into silence. He had always thought that once one had a bonded mate, the need for other lovers was negated. As it was, he could barely believe he was taking up a relationship with someone who was bonded to another.
"I have taken other lovers before," Neo whispered, "but you're the first one I've loved and wanted from the first time I saw you. I knew even then that you and I would be together, one way or another."
"Neo, don't flatter yourself."
"You said not to push, but Vari . . . I can't bear the thought of not bonding with you, of losing you without ever letting you see how much I love you."
"Neo, stop it," Variance mumbled, finally releasing the operative and standing, stepping away from him. He had already done more than he had intended. The idea of taking it any further truly scared him. And Variance prided himself on the fact that he didn't scare easy.
"Variance. . . ."
The charcoal telepath had also risen to his feet, crossing the short distance between them to brush his fingertips lightly against his shoulder. Variance twitched his shoulder free, his back firmly turned away from the other mech, but he knew even as he did it that he was hurting Neo for little reason.
"I'm going home," he said quietly, trying not to visualize the hurt expression on Neo's face. "I need to check on Nayla, make sure she's all right. . . ."
"Vari, I. . . ."
But it was obvious that the telepath didn't know what to say. Variance was certain his behavior was not helping. It wasn't like him to act in such a petty and cruel manner. And yet . . . something about the idea of bonding to Neo set him on edge. It didn't help that Neo was so obviously needing to touch him; even accepting Neo as his lover hadn't calmed the twinges that shook through him at casual touch.
"I guess you have to do what you have to do. You know where to find me."
Variance wanted to say something to make things right between them, but the words wouldn't come. He hated to leave on such a sour note, but he was beginning to doubt that he had much choice in the matter. Pride could be a dreadful thing.
"Vari, whatever I said . . . I love you."
"I . . . I need to go. . . ."
"I won't stop you. . . ."
"I . . . I'll call you. . . ."
"Stay if you mean to or just leave," Neo grunted. Variance winced and almost turned around. Almost. Instead, he hurried out of the room, swiftly stalking the corridors back to his apartment. Nayla and Render were absent, which suited him fine; he wanted to be alone. Retreating to his workstation, he swiftly lost himself in the piles of research work he found awaiting his return.
When Variance surfaced several hours later, he was surprised to note that he was still alone in the apartment's antechamber.
Strange. Unless I just missed her and she went to bed without saying anything. But that's not like her either. Particularly not when she thinks I've had a bad day. . . .
But you haven't exactly had a bad day, have you, Variance?
Sighing to himself, he asked Teletran for Nayla's location . . . and was a little disturbed to be told that not only was she in the apartment, but that she had been all day. Switching off the monitor first, he crossed the outer room to peer into Nayla's suite. The loft was dark, but even from a distance he could tell that she hadn't been sleeping well.
"Nayla?" he whispered, walking over to the open loft. She moaned softly and rolled away from the light of his optics, but didn't actually wake. He was somewhat reluctant to wake her, but something about the situation struck him as being deeply wrong.
"Nayla? Hon, I think you need to wake up now. . . ."
"Mmph . . . tired. . . ."
"You've aready slept all afternoon, Nayla."
"Like you care. Lemme 'lone. . . ."
"Nayla. . . ."
"Lemme 'lone . . . lemme sleep. . . ."
With a defeated sigh, Variance withdrew from her suite. He was still worried about her, but her words stung. Three months was not very long in the grander scheme of things, but he had thought it was long enough for her to know that he did care. He hadn't intended to let himself care about her, of course, but it had happened anyway.
"Variance to Morpheus,"
"Morpheus here. I was wondering when you would get around to calling me . . . although I had expected you sooner."
"Yeah, well . . . I can't seem to do anything right today. . . ."
"Don't blame yourself for Neo, Variance. His enthusiasm all too often clouds his judgement. And his sense of tact. He certainly didn't mean to push you away; if he somehow failed to make it clear . . . do not doubt that he does love you."
"Excuse me if I feel uncomfortable discussing my difficulties with Neo with his bondmate. . . ."
"Why? Because you and I choose not to bind ourselves to each other?"
"Morpheus. . . ."
"Will you at least open your door? Or am I to stand in the hall for the whole of this conversation?"
Variance walked to his door in a haze of disbelief. Surely Morpheus hadn't been in the hall the entire time. Or worse, walking through the corridors of the downed cruiser. But when he opened the door, there was Morpheus, waiting for him. Acute embarrassment washed through him and for a moment he wished desperately to simple disappear. His discomfort was not eased in the least by the playfully indulgent smile that appeared on the senior telepath's face. For a brief instant, he was absolutely certain he couldn't be any more embarrassed if he tried. Then the marginally taller Autobot gently pushed him back into the apartment.
"You have to actually let me in, Variance."
His optics flickered as a shamed half-whimper slid out of his vocoder. At least the hall's empty, he told himself. He had never been more relieved in his life than he was when he heard the soothing hiss of his door closing.
"Now then, dear one, if you didn't call to discuss Neo, what is it that troubles you?"
"I suppose it's too late to say that I am not certain I'm comfortable with the idea of having any sort of intimate relationship with you. . . ."
"Variance, I did not come down here to seduce you. You wanted my help. That you are Neo's lover is of little relevance to me. Should you later choose to bind yourself to him more completely . . . well, we shall deal with that when and if it happens.
"Now, if you are quite finished making an idiot of yourself, what is wrong?"
"I told you I can't do anything right," he sighed, refilling his glass before settling in his favorite chair once more. "Neo's furious, Nayla hates me, and now you're angry."
"Variance," Morpheus sighed as he crossed the room to crouch before the moody tactician, "I'm not angry. Neo's pride was stung, yes, but he's hardly furious. If anything, he's annoyed with himself for pushing you. As for Nayla, I doubt very much that she hates you."
"She thinks I don't care. . . ."
"Hardly the same as hating you," the warrior-priest murmured gently. "She's probably feeling a little . . . out of sorts right now. Today is the first time her link to you has ever been blocked by someone other than herself."
"Blocked. . . ?"
"Yes. You two did block her out before you got too carried away, right?"
"Er, um, I don't even know if I can block her, let alone how. . . ."
"Oh dear Primus . . . if he didn't block her, I'm going to have him flogged," Morpheus muttered. Variance sat in a confused muddle, watching as the dark warrior surged to his feet and hurried to Nayla's suite. Curious inspite of an instinctual warning that perhaps he did not want to get involved, he pulled himself to his feet and followed his commander. The black spymaster stood at the edge of the open loft, his voice incredibly gentle despite the anger Variance could almost feel radiating off of him.
"Nayla? Nayla, it's Morpheus. . . ."
Guilt whispered though Variance when the girl looked up with tear-stained cheeks. Dark eyes focused on Morpheus, unseeing at first, then clearing. After only a moment's hesitation, she stumbled out of bed and to Morpheus, fitting herself into the groove between the grillwork on the telepath's chest and his shoulder. It was unlikey to be very comfortable, especially since she was only wearing a nightshirt, but Nayla burrowed against the dark metal of her mentor and wept. Feeling like an intruder, Variance withdrew.
Nayla molded herself to the rigid form of Morpheus's body, fitting between his chest and upper arm. Despite the chill air, she took comfort in his presence, his body actually warming to her touch. After only an instant, his other hand swept around to comfort her.
"Shh," he whispered soothingly, "it's all right, little one. Let me share your thoughts?"
"Always, master," she rasped between choked sobs. She felt his presence wrap around her, warming her soul. Her tears slowly stopped falling, but she remained huddled against him, inspite of his alienness. Or perhaps it was precisely that alienness that made him feel so safe.
Oh Nayla. . . . No wonder you hurt, his mindvoice murmured, soothing her further. I am sorry, dear one, for his thoughtlessness and her poor judgement. Later I'll show you how to block them yourself.
It isn't fair!
"Shh . . . hush, dear one," he whispered softly, surprising her by actually speaking aloud.
"Why?" she whispered urgently. "Why could he not be happy with me? Why must I love him so desparately?"
"I do not know, my dear, but why this jealousy? Why can you not take joy in his pleasure?"
"Because I do not make him happy . . . he does!"
"Oh Nayla . . . you mustn't blame Neo for this. . . ."
"He stole him from me, stole away my happiness. . . ."
Variance still cares for you, Nayla. Is he now not allowed to love any but you?
He does not love me, she sent back sullenly. I am little more than a nuisance to him.
You do him a disservice to think so little of his feelings for you, Morpheus chided gently. He was worried about you, that's why I'm here.
"It is?"
"Yes, babydoll," he whispered with a small smile. She playfully swatted at his shoulder, chucking softly inspite of herself. His supporting hand dropped away in silent invitation and, after a moment, Nayla stepped away from his side, swiftly retreating behind a dressing screen.
"Now that you have seen that I am well, will you be leaving?"
"If you wish it. Or I can stay, if you would rather. It is up to you."
Nayla didn't say anything, but then she knew she didn't need to speak for him to understand. She felt his acceptance of her unspoken wishes, a warm whisper of his support that drifted through the silence.
He was still waiting for her when she stepped back around the screen. So was Variance, although he seemed strangely uncomfortable, lingering at the door.
Talk to him, little one, Morpheus's mindvoice whispered through her thoughts. Let him know you aren't angry with him.
Angry? Why would he think I was angry?
Talk to him, the senior telepath repeated. He offered her a reassuring smile, then slipped from the room. She tried to gather her thoughts, but suddenly alone even in her own mind, they scattered like leaves in the wind.
"Why would you --?"
"I'm sorry," she blurted out, interrupting his question. Variance stood in her door, stunned. Then again, she rarely actually told him she was sorry for anything.
"You are my life," she sighed. "I am . . . glad you have found your happiness."
"You are?"
"I am sorry I snapped at you."
"I do care about you, Nayla," the tactician murmured softly. "And I'm sorry if Neo and I upset you."
"It is not your fault your lover is a thoughtless ass," she grumbled, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say.
"I am sorry," she sighed. "That was unworthy of me."
"Please . . . at least try not to hate him, Nayla," he sighed in response. "He has been a light in my darkness and I love him very much."
I could have been that light, she thought to herself, but she did not share it, burying it deep within her. Variance deserved every happiness . . . even if he didn't find it in her.
Though time was said to be a great healer, the passage of days into weeks, the transition from late December to early March, provided little comfort to Nayla. The girl tried to find some good in Neo, but Variance could tell it was not easy for her. He only wished he knew why. Then again, Neo wasn't exactly making an effort to impress her.
"I wish there was some way. . . ."
Neo sighed, which was answer enough. Albeit not the answer for which Variance had been hoping. He was tired of being caught between them, but neither seemed willing to breach the rift between them, not even for his sake. And that alone was nearly as tiring as their feuding.
"I shuffled my duty shift to spend time exploring you, not to discuss Nayla's personal issues."
"Neo. . . ."
"I know, I know, but she could at least meet me halfway."
Variance refrained from commenting that Nayla had made the same complaint. On several occasions. Instead he shifted his hold on his lover slightly. Neo chuckled, rolling over to push himself up onto his hands. The charcoal operative straddled his lover, a playful smile lighting his face.
"Speaking of exploring you, I do believe there is some untouched territory yet to cover," he teased, cobalt optics darkening with desire.
Variance smiled and cupped Neo's face, drawing him into a warm kiss. He knew he shouldn't let Neo win by seducing him, but his ability to resist his lover had never been strong. Particularly when Neo was feeling determined. And the fire that raced through him at the telepath's touch only proved to him how determined Neo was feeling.
The phantoms of resonance sent shivers through his very core, the countering warmth of his lover's mental presence tingling across his skin. Neo's mind slid around and through his thoughts, tantalizing as much as the spy's nips to his neck.
Be one with me, the silken voice purred, delicate fingers teasing along his aerofoil. Variance mentally recoiled from the suggestion. As much as he loved Neo, the thought of binding himself to the dark spy still scared him. He tried to rationalize it away as a justifiable worry for what might happen. After all, they had no idea what it might do to Nayla; she had already suffered ill effects just from them not always shielding her out as they should. Moreover, he wasn't sure what would happen between himself and Morpheus.
Variance, my darling beloved, Neo's 'voice soothed, fear not. I love you and only long to be with you.
A warm haze enfolded his thoughts as Neo drew him back to the very brink of bonding. A piece of him did want to bond with Neo, but he was beginning to lose perspective. More and more, all his mind could comprehend were the burning flames of desire and longing, and the warmth of love surrounding them both.
Resonance and burning passion wrapped around him like a blanket. He felt lost in the sensations, adrift with Neo's presence beside him. And then Neo wasn't beside him . . . because his entire being was rushing through him. Secrets and desires, longings and achievements, everything Neo had ever been or wished to be was flickering through him, overwhelming him. One piece of himself was changed forever and Neo . . . Neo was everywhere. For a moment too short to comprehend and yet too long to be real, there was three. Then all individual thought fell away as Variance and Neo became one.
