Finding Home
Chapter 9
By Voodoo Queen
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Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! You're all looking lovely, as usual. I'm happy to be able to post another chapter for you today. I hope you've all been enjoying the story so far. Many, many thanks to all of you who have added this to your alerts and favorites. I'm so, so happy that you like it. Extra special thanks to those who've taken time to leave me a review, say hello, and provide feedback: The Whispering Sage, Knightnerd, adelphe24, KayleeChiara, Mywinx14, Edges05, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Pixiekatt, and 'Guest'. Thanks for the motivation!
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.
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Sideswipe normally found himself quickly growing bored of strict, regimented routines. It was probably one of the reasons he and Sunstreaker found themselves in trouble more often than not. They simply weren't formatted for the type of quiet monotony most of the other bots thrived on and looked forward to. Never had been and never would be. He and Sunny loved a good thrill and, unfortunately, their main source of available stimulation was the battlefield. Suffice to say, their reputation as fierce, reckless frontline warriors owed just as much to their need for movement as it did their immense skill. In this case, however, he was glad that the object of his attention had adopted a mostly-consistent morning ritual. He wasn't going to complain because it certainly made his mission easier to be able to anticipate the femme's next move. He actually thought he had gotten a pretty good handle on her over the last few days.
She was up every morning by at least 0500 hours, sometimes earlier. He worried a bit about the amount of rest she was getting because she often didn't retire until usually after midnight. He knew this because the window to her room faced the parking area where he had been camping out in his alt mode for the last three nights and he could see her silhouette moving about behind the window shade. Each morning she would spend about thirty minutes in which he assumed she was getting herself dressed and doing whatever else it was humans did to get themselves ready for the day. She'd then emerge and make her way over to the chow hall- sans male companion- to eat breakfast. She'd be in and out in about twenty minutes. She'd then head on over to the designated bus stop where she'd wait for the base shuttle to pick her up and take her to the other side of the compound where she'd spend the rest of her day working with the Autobot's TIC.
Boring and predictable. Sideswipe chuckled to himself. He and Sunstreaker would change that.
Speaking of which, Sunny was none the wiser to his nightly absences since Prowl had put them on completely opposite security shifts in order to "maintain civility"...whatever that meant. Sides was always careful to be back in his berth before his twin came dragging home in the morning, tired and irritated. He hated keeping Sunny in the dark, especially about something with the potential to be this important, but with the mech fighting him every step of the way he didn't know what else to do. He figured that if he played his cards right he could gain the femme's interest while slowly bringing his brother into the fold, so to speak, before he caught wind of what was happening. By the time either party became aware of his ploy they'd be in too deep to just back out. Or so he hoped. There was always the possibility that Sunstreaker would beat the ever-living slag out of him or that the femme would freak out and run to some higher authority and get both of their afts welded to the brig floor permanently.
Sideswipe, though, was an optimist.
To say he was pleased when the femme pushed her way out through the barrack's doors and out into the early morning air right on time would have been an understatement. He'd already decided that today was going to be the day. He watched quietly from a distance as she hurried her way toward the chow hall. Once she'd disappeared into the second building, his engine rumbled to life and he pulled smoothly out of his hiding spot. The sleek form of the Lamborghini circled slowly around the block, coming to a stop between two buildings across from where she waited to board the base shuttle each day. One quick transformation later, Sideswipe was leaning casually against the side of one of the buildings where the car had once been, surprised to find that he was actually a little bit nervous.
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Doe moved half-heartedly through the chow line. She wasn't really big on breakfast. She probably could have done without it but she'd learned a long time ago never to pass up a chance to eat. Sometimes you could never be sure where your next meal was coming from and there had been plenty of nights growing up when she'd gone to bed hungry wishing she'd had a slice of bread or even a simple glass of milk to quell the rumbling in her belly. She'd found out the hard way that just because someone was supposed to provide and care for you, didn't mean they would. Two years in the Navy with three square meals a day hadn't managed to convince her otherwise. She grabbed an English muffin and a packet of strawberry jam as well as a small bowl of sliced fruit and a cup of orange juice. She wouldn't starve today.
As she made her way over to the tables, she kept an eye out for Monroe. She hadn't seen him in the three days since his strange display when she'd ran into him on her quest for a pallet jack. The guy had looked scared out of his mind and more than a little ill. She had a feeling that more was going on with him than she was aware of but her brain either couldn't or wouldn't string the pieces together for her. She'd tried to check on him that evening when she'd made it back to the barracks but he didn't seem to be in his room. Either that or he was just outright ignoring her and refusing to open his door. She was a bit hurt at the notion but, regardless, she hoped he was alright. Resigned to the fact that she would be dining alone once again, she sighed and settled down at a table to eat.
She made quick work of her food and stood to return her tray and utensils to the scullery where they could be cleaned. She was actually pretty anxious to get to her post. For the first time since she'd arrived on the N.E.S.T. base she felt like she actually had a real job. Though 'The Dungeon' wasn't up and running just yet, she and Jazz did have a meeting with the Big Boss, as Jazz called him, to discuss his expectations and concerns for the project the two of them would be embarking on together. She wasn't going to lie. She'd been terrified at first. Optimus Prime was, for lack of a better word, enormous and it wouldn't have taken any effort at all on his part to turn her into a smear on the floor if he'd wanted to.
She'd quickly learned, however, why he was held in such high regard by his soldiers. He had a noble aura about him as well as a kind and gentle disposition that was, quite frankly, a bit disarming when you first met him. She'd overheard stories from some of the ground pounders around the base who'd seen the bots in action about the Autobot leader literally ripping other giant robots clean in two. With that image firmly ingrained into her imagination she certainly hadn't expected the guy to be so...nice. Half of the meeting was carried on between Optimus Prime and Jazz using that strange whirring, clicking language Doe heard every night in her dreams and still couldn't make heads or tails of. Prime had apologized to her profusely for not speaking in a language she could understand, citing unspecified security concerns that he was trying to rectify ASAP, assuming she'd perceive their use of their native tongue as a slight against her species. It had actually made her wonder what kinds of humans he was forced to deal with in the higher echelons of government on a daily basis that would even put such an idea in his mind. She assured him that wasn't the case and that she understood perfectly and wasn't offended in the least. He'd happily carried on from there, wishing to know more about what her specific duties had entailed at her previous duty station.
She, in turn, had provided him a brief overview of what all ship-based operations entailed. It wasn't for the faint of heart, as her chief would often say. It was a fast-paced, constant bombardment of information coming from every direction and demanded an extremely high level of attention to even the smallest detail. She explained that her particular duties had involved, among other things, maintaining an overall tactical picture of the ship's current surroundings by plotting and maintaining a visual representation of friendly, hostile, neutral, as well as civilian contacts. In doing so, she would be able to assist in the coordination of both secure and non-secure communications between the various entities. She fed the command and control a constant stream of ever changing tactical information as well as provided target plotting data and made recommendations regarding any associated tactical and combat procedures being carried out. It was a big job with even bigger consequences if it wasn't carried out properly.
Prime had seemed impressed. He had commended her on her exemplary service record and qualifications and reiterated how pleased he was to have her as a member of the team. It had seemed, he said, as though Jazz had chosen wisely. He'd then wanted to know whether or not she felt she'd be able to perform her duties on a much, much broader scale. Jazz had been on the sidelines like a cheerleader, assuring his leader that she was quite capable despite not having seen her in action. She'd agreed that she could do anything if she had the right equipment. Prime, in turn, had assured she and Jazz that the equipment situation was being dealt with in as an expedient way as was possible given their circumstances. They'd all agreed to meet up again in a week in order to review progress and go over any updates. In the meantime, she and Jazz were tasked with making 'The Dungeon' look like a functional workplace rather than something out of a horror movie.
It wasn't much, but it was a start.
Feeling more optimistic than she had since her transfer, she made her way out of the chow hall and headed off in the direction of the shuttle stop. It was still fairly early in the morning. The sun wasn't up yet but it's telltale glow just beneath the horizon was beginning to paint the Eastern sky a swath of warm pinks and oranges. It was pleasantly warm and a cool breeze blew in off the surrounding sea as Doe settled herself down on the bench to await her ride to work. She fiddled with the military ID clipped to her pocket and sighed, wishing she opted for coffee rather than orange juice this morning. She'd been spending each and every night since her arrival chasing after that elusive glow in her dreams and waking up feeling as if she'd been running a marathon. She could deal, though. There had been times during previous deployments in which she'd had to pull twenty-hour shifts with barely four hours in between to rest and recuperate. Still, she figured there was no harm in just closing her eyes for a moment while she waited for the shuttle.
"Good morning, pretty lady."
Doe's eyes snapped back open almost immediately at the sound of the smooth, masculine voice to find a pair of softly glowing, blue eyes/optics mere inches away from her face that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She instantly recognized them as belonging to the silver twin and with a startled gasp, she sat bolt upright, a hand going to her chest to try to still her rapidly pounding heart. "Jesus Christ..."
The mech chuckled and settled back on his haunches, giving her some space to breathe. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "I was just in the neighborhood passing through. I saw you sitting over here all by yourself and thought I'd come over and say hello. So," he stuck out his hand in the greeting he'd saw humans use countless times. "Hi. My name is Sideswipe and it's my pleasure to properly make your acquaintance."
"Uh," Still confused, Doe looked dumbly from the mech's face to his outstretched hand.
"I by no means consider myself to be an expert on human customs," he gave her a lopsided grin, "But I'm pretty sure this is the part where you shake my hand and tell me your name."
"Oh," Doe seemed to snap out of her confused stupor. "Yeah, um, you're absolutely right." She returned his grin with a tentative smile of her own. "Sorry...I'm OS2 Doe."
With only a slight hesitation, she pressed her small hand into his much, much larger one and felt his fingers fold themselves gently around her's. She hadn't touched any of the Autobots, save when she'd touched Sideswipe that first night in his car form but she hadn't known any better then. At that time she'd been too concerned about the feeling of electricity passing through her body to really get a sense of what he'd felt like. Now, though, she was surprised to find that he didn't feel anything like what she expected, at least his hand didn't, not that she'd really contemplated it before now. There was still an almost electric feel where they touched which mimicked the feeling in her chest but it didn't hurt as it had that day. It was...nice and he certainly wasn't a cold lump of animated metal by any means. His hand was warm, probably a couple degrees warmer than her own, and possessed a strange, almost velvety smooth texture on the palm, despite the interlocking metal seams, that she couldn't really associate with any metal she was familiar with. The pads of his fingers, by contrast, were more rough as if calloused by time and hard work. She could feel a slight, rhythmic pulsation run through his hand and fingers, almost like a heartbeat. It was peculiar but certainly not unpleasant and after a long moment he finally released her hand and looked at her skeptically.
"Really?" He asked with a raised brow plate. "OS2? Thats all you're giving me? That's a job title, sparklet, not a name. Or at least I'm hoping your creators didn't slap that kind of designation on you. That would just be tragic."
"No," Doe's smile faltered. "They-they didn't." She shook her head and swallowed the lump that threatened to form in her throat. She recovered quickly, "My name is Amy, Amy Doe."
Sides hadn't missed the way her face had crumbled for a moment. He filed it away in the back of his processor for examination later. The goal today was to keep things light and friendly. Patience was key. Sparkling steps.
"Hmmm..." He hummed to himself and brought a hand up to his chin as if in deep thought over the information she had just provided. "Amy," he tried the name out. "Amy, Amy, Amy." He nodded to himself and grinned. "I like it. I think I'll call you...Ames."
Doe said nothing but raised an eyebrow in question.
Sideswipe pretended not to notice and flopped down onto the ground next to the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "So, Ames," He began casually, drawing out the 'S' in the new nickname he'd branded her with. "Do you come here often?" The horrible line had the desired effect and he was pleased with himself when the femme looked at him strangely and snorted softly in laughter.
"Here?" She questioned, "As in here at this bench?"
"Well, yeah." He rolled his optics as if his meaning should have been obvious. "Where else would I mean?"
"Right..." Amy shook her head and chuckled. The situation felt surreal but also strangely comfortable in a weird way that she couldn't have explained if someone paid her. Though, she did still have a nagging feeling that something was missing but she couldn't have told you what that was either. She decided to play along, "Yes, I do. I come here every day to catch the shuttle to the other side of the base. What about yourself?"
"Nope, never. This is my first time." His answer seemed to amuse her if the way she half-smiled and shook her head was any indication.
"Well, welcome aboard." She joked, "The more the merrier, I guess."
"That's pretty much my philosophy." Sideswipe's spark hummed happily along. This was good, he decided. Very good. He soldiered on. "They've got you working with Jazz, is that right?"
"Yeah," she confirmed with a nod. "That's right."
"You really lucked out on that one." Sideswipe admitted, "He's a good mech, not nearly as stuffy or stuck up and full of himself as some of the other bots around here and trust me, we've got a couple of real doozies. You got the good assignment."
"I haven't really talked to any one else to have an opinion about them but," Amy agreed, "Jazz seems like he's a pretty cool guy."
"He is...mostly." Sideswipe shrugged. "But I guess you can't really be mad at a guy for having to do his job once in a while, can you? I mean, he is the TIC but, Sunny and I like him...and if Sunny likes anyone that's a pretty big endorsement."
Doe raised a brow in question, "Sunny?"
"Sunstreaker," Sides perked up, sensing an opportunity. "He's my brother. I'm sure you've probably noticed him. You know, the shiny, brooding yellow guy with a permanent scowl? Strikes fear into the hearts of all who dare to cross his path?"
Amy couldn't help but laugh at the mech's description, "Yeah, I've seen him. He seems, uh, nice?"
Sides chuckled, "He really isn't that bad once you get to know him. Sunny's just...misunderstood. You didn't hear this from me but I'll let you in on a little secret," He leaned toward the woman and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Beneath all that high-gloss wax and bad attitude is the most loyal and devoted mech you'll ever meet and that's a fact. Just don't tell him I told you. He has an image to uphold."
"I'll take your word for it." Amy smiled, "His secret is safe with me. Jazz mentioned that you guys were twins?"
"Indeed we are," Sideswipe validated and then frowned. "It kind of sucks for Sunny, though."
"Oh," Amy questioned, "Why's that?"
"Because," the mech teased, "I obviously ended up with all the good looks and charm."
"Obviously," Amy chuckled and checked her watch. "I'm sure your brother would be thrilled to know you feel that way."
Sides winked at her, "I won't tell him if you won't. What time does the shuttle usually get here?"
Doe leaned forward a bit in order to look down the road. "It should be here any minute now."
"You know," Sideswipe offered, "I'd be more than happy to give you a ride. I'm going that direction anyway."
"No," Doe declined politely, "Thank you. I appreciate the offer but I really don't mind waiting for the shuttle."
"Are you sure?" The mech put on his most flirtatious look and leaned in close to the woman and purred, "I have a really, really nice car."
Amy felt her face heat as she sputtered, "I-I'm sure you do."
"If you ask nicely I might even let you shift the gears." Sides asked with a smirk, "Have you ever driven a Lamborghini? I promise you, it'll change your life forever."
"I, uh," Doe fidgeted, "No, no thanks. I'm good."
Sides breathed, "Are you sure?"
"No..." Amy's eyes widened, "Yes! I'm sure. I'll wait for the bus."
"Well," Sideswipe leaned away from her suddenly and vented dramatically, "You can't say I didn't offer." He stood slowly and stretched his limbs. "Just remember, when you're bouncing along in that bus, sitting on that hard, uncomfortable vinyl slab they call a seat that you could have been traveling in the lap of luxury. I don't mean to brag but, my seats put Italian leather to shame." He grinned cheekily, "Just something for you to think about."
Amy opened her mouth to respond but nothing wanted to come out. He'd managed to get her quite flustered very quickly. She had no idea what was going on. He thrown her completely for a loop. She was positive that her face was probably bright red, she could feel her ears burning, and her chest was buzzing like a beehive. The worst part was that she couldn't decide if he was genuinely flirting with her or simply trying to get a rise out of her like the mischief maker he was rumored to be. Each thought was equally mortifying.
"Anyway," Sideswipe continued, "I guess if you're not in need of my services I should probably be getting back. Sunny will be getting off duty soon and someone has to be there to listen to him complain about being on security detail or it ruins his whole day. It was lovely talking to you, Ames." The mech leveled his gaze on the woman and smiled, extending his and once again in farewell.
Not knowing what else to do, Amy allowed the mech to take her hand into his own once again. Instead of enveloping in in a friendly shake as he had before, he took care only to gently grasp her fingers before bowing his head and pressing the plates of his mouth against her knuckles. He lingered there a moment, long enough for her to feel the intermittent rush of warm air from whatever passed as his respiratory/ventilation system wash over her hand and wrist. It caused her own breath to catch in her throat and the feeling in her chest to churn restlessly.
He released her hand after a long moment and raised his head, winking at the flushed woman and flashing her an impish grin, "Till we meet again."
Doe watched, a bit in awe, as he gracefully spun away from her before taking off down the street like he was an Olympic speed skater. He was gone just as quickly as he'd appeared. Doe stared off in the direction he'd went, completely dumbfounded as to what had just happened. Her mind didn't seem to be able to string together a coherent thought and she could have sworn she had an electrical storm brewing behind her rib cage. It wasn't until the shuttle bus pulled to a stop in front of her that she was finally able to regain some of her focus.
Doe shook her head to clear it and rose from the bench where she sat. As she boarded the bus to head off to another day of playing house with Jazz, she couldn't help but ponder the one question that kept looping through her mind. "What the hell just happened?"
End of Chapter 9
