Finding Home
Chapter 17
By Voodoo Queen
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Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! This is the second part to the last chapter that I promised you. I could have written on forever but I don't want to bore you to death. Many thanks to all of you who have added this story to your alerts and favorites. Many, many thanks to those who took time out to post a review: Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, TheGreenWallFlower, sakurawriter, HenriettaDarlington, velociraptor4659, Maria B, 'Guests' (whoever you are...), KayleeChiara, Edges05. You guys are so encouraging! I can't thank you enough!
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.
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"Come on in, Ames," Sideswipe ushered the woman in with a dramatic sweep of his arm. He flashed a cheeky grin in her direction, "Make yourself at home. Our house is your house."
"Thanks," she murmured uncertainly as she stepped inside.
Amy hadn't been sure what she expected the bedroom -berth room, she reminded herself- of a couple enormous robots to look like. Her eyes raked over the place as she ventured cautiously further into the room. It wasn't anything fancy, pretty much what you'd expect a partitioned off military warehouse to look like- four thick, galvanized steel walls that had been painted an off-white, folding industrial doors, gray reinforced concrete floor, and metal halide aluminum lighting fixtures hanging overhead. It was, to her at least, a pretty large space they'd been allotted. Then again, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, themselves, would take up a substantial portion of it. Also taking up room were two large, bed-like structures where she assumed the two...Slept? Rested? Defragged? She wasn't sure what they did, actually. Everything was neat, clean, and looked organized, though. There was some shelving bolted into one wall that contained various items and accoutrements. Among them she spied several containers of car polish, a variety of waxes, buffing pads and microfiber cloths which actually made her smile a bit.
"Mother fragging son of a glitch." Sunstreaker quickly entered the room, shut the door and bolted it, catching the attention of the room's other two occupants. The mech stood rigidly in place, box still clasped under one arm, seeming to listen for something on the other side.
Concern etched on his face plates, Sides inquired, "What happened, Sunny?"
The yellow twin vented, "Prowl's out there lurking around again."
Sides' faceplates scrunched up, "What for?"
Sunny, annoyed, turned to his twin, "How the frag should I know? You want me to go out there and ask?"
Sideswipe merely chuckled. "Do you think he saw you?"
Sunstreaker shook his head. "I don't think so. I guess we'll know in a minute. I can hear him coming this way."
The entire room seemed to freeze, Amy not even daring to breathe, as the sound of the SIC's carefully measured footsteps grew louder the closer they came toward the twins' room. There was a moment of tense apprehension as the mech's foot falls paused directly outside the door, lingering for a long, agonizing moment, before carrying on down the corridor. It wasn't until they'd faded completely out of earshot that the three gave a collective sigh of relief.
"Nosy slagger," Sunny commented as he moved away from the door to deposit the box on his berth. He ripped into the packaging, lifting out the contents and studying them with a critical optic before asking, "How much did that burnout say he paid for all this?"
"Uh," Amy stuttered, "Forty-Forty thousand."
Sunstreaker snorted as he continued to unpack. "He got ripped off. Serves him right. Could have got all this way cheaper off of Amazon."
"Ames..." Sideswipe had made himself busy rearranging some of the furniture on the other side of the room. He'd turned his berth sideways and pushed it all the way up against the wall, and scooted a large, make-shift table that housed several data pads and other odds and ends to the far corner leaving a large space of open wall in front. "You like to watch movies, right?"
"Yeah," Amy nodded. "I like movies. Do, uh, do you guys?"
"Sides," Sunstreaker interrupted. "Grab this screen, will you? The mounting brackets are already attached."
"Got it," Sideswipe took the screen from his brother and set about bolting it to the wall space he'd just cleared. He glanced over his shoulder at Amy as he worked. "Yeah, we like movies. We watch them all the time." He tapped his head. "We can stream them right off the Internet."
"Really?" Amy wasn't entirely sure what to say to someone who just said they could download movies into their brain. She settled for, "That's...uh...pretty awesome." She shook her head and wondered, not for the first time, why she had to be so socially awkward. She scrambled for something else to say. Finally coming up with, "So, do you have a favorite?"
"Hmm..." Sides paused in his task, seeming to study the question for a moment before answering. "I think it's a toss up between 'Enter the Dragon' and 'Death Wish'."
"Cool," Amy smiled, "An old-school action movie type of guy. I can see that."
"Hey," Sideswipe grinned at her. "I bet you can't guess Sunny's favorite."
"Uh," Amy glanced over at the yellow mech who paused in his assembly of the projector to observe her with a raised brow. She shook her head, "I honestly have no idea."
"Oh, come on, Ames," Sideswipe encouraged. "Give it a guess. We'll give you three tries."
"Um..." Amy sucked in a lungful of air and puffed it back out. She took a long, careful look at Sunstreaker and took the plunge. "...'Maximum Overdrive'? ...No? ...Uh...How about...'Christine'? ...Is it 'Terminator'?"
Sideswipe was practically doubled over in laughter and, for a moment, Amy was afraid that she may have offended the notoriously volatile mech. There was a long, tense moment in which Sunstreaker did nothing but stare at her with a carefully blank expression. So, she felt like her heart was going to stop when one side of his mouth finally hitched up into a lopsided grin.
"Squishie's got jokes." Sunstreaker chuckled as he gathered the equipment he'd been working on to begin installing it. He smirked at the woman, "'La Belle Noiseuse'."
"Oh..." Amy's brows furrowed in thought. She certainly would have never guessed that in a million years. "I think I've maybe heard of that one. It's about an artist, right?"
Sunstreaker merely hummed noncommittally and kept on working.
"What about you? Sides asked, "You got a favorite?"
"Not really, I mean, I don't get a chance to watch movies all that often. I'm always busy working." Amy chewed her lip. "And before I joined the navy, the last place I lived, I wasn't allowed to watch any television or movies. Or listen to music. Or read anything that they didn't get from their church..."
Sunstreaker looked down on her, slightly perplexed. "The Pit you live at, Squishie? A fragging prison?"
She shrugged, "But, to answer Sideswipe's question, I guess if I had to choose a favorite it would probably be 'Monty Python and the Holy Grail'."
"Nice. A classic comedy," Sideswipe nodded approvingly. "Gotta love John Cleese."
"Done," Sunstreaker proudly announced.
Amy peered up at the projector which was now secured into the ceiling. "I still can't believe you guys stole that."
"We didn't steal it," Sides corrected. "We borrowed it. We'll give it back...eventually. Maybe."
Sunstreaker snorted, "But probably not."
Amy sighed and shook her head, not seeing any point in arguing with the pair. "So..." She looked around the room. "What now?"
"Now," Sideswipe winked at her. "We get to enjoy the fruits of our labor."
"Don't just stand there," Sunstreaker rumbled, "Get up here, femme."
Amy squealed as she was suddenly plucked from the ground by a pair of yellow and gun metal gray hands. She was lifted so suddenly that it made her stomach flip and her head spin. She flailed, trying to find something to grab onto for some semblance of stability. She didn't even have time to protest the move, however, before she was just as suddenly deposited atop Sideswipe's berth. She looked up, still dizzy, to find Sunstreaker gazing down at her, obviously amused.
"Sorry, Squishie." Sunstreaker settled down on the berth beside her with his back against the wall. "Sides, hit the lights. You're closer."
Amy blinked as the room was suddenly plunged into near total darkness. The only illumination the soft, blue glow of the mechs' optics which cast their faces in a strange, otherworldly blush. It wasn't but a moment later that the projector's lens blazed to life and the illusion was lost as Sunstreaker went to work adjusting the focus and resolution.
"I've checked into this whole movie thing," Sideswipe declared as sank down on Amy's other side. "It's my understanding that popcorn is an important part of the experience. So..." The mech pressed a small container into the woman's hands. "We got you this."
"Wow," Amy turned the container over in her hands, her mouth twitching in amusement. "It's a jar of popcorn kernels, uh, thank you."
Uncertain, Sideswipe asked, "That's okay, right?"
"Yeah," Amy quickly assured. "It's just, um," She smiled up at him, "We usually pop them before we eat them."
"I told you it had to be cooked." Sunstreaker eyed the jar with an amused grin, "That slag looks like gravel...probably bust out all her teeth trying to chew."
"It's fine, really." Amy patted Sideswipe on the arm in assurance. "I love popcorn. I'll just...I'll hold on to this for next time. If I really need a snack, I still have a granola bar in my pocket from this morning."
The mech still looked unsure and slightly disappointed, "Are you sure?"
"Positive," Amy sat the popcorn off to the side and smiled. "Don't worry about it. I appreciate the thought. So," she clapped her hands together, looking back and forth between the brothers. "What are we watching?"
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"How much longer do I have to wear this thing, doc?"
"Until I say so," Ratchet didn't even look up from where he sat hunched over some kind of large, microscope-like contraption. "What does the readout say?"
Jazz reclined back onto the medical berth, twisting his head to see the monitor that loomed over him. "It says 76.3 percent stability ratio."
"You're not walking out of here with anything less than 95 percent." Ratchet shot the mech an amused glance, "You know the drill."
The silver mech sighed. He tried to fold his hands over his chest plates but found them impeded by the mess of thick wires and cables that fed into his spark chamber. He settled for tucking them behind his head. There was nothing worse, at least in his mind, than be stuck in the med bay. Not that he didn't enjoy Ratchet's company. The mech had a reputation for being ornery but he also had a dry sense of humor that Jazz could appreciate. It didn't make it any easier for him, though. Jazz was a mech who'd always loved to be moving. He'd loved life and he'd loved living. In his current state, however, just existing seemed to take a monumental effort. He felt useless most of the time. He vented forlornly.
"Jazz," Ratchet turned in his seat to face the mech. "I know this is difficult for you but with injuries like these...it does take time to heal. Believe it or not, you are getting better. In fact," the CMO rose and strode over to where Jazz lay to check the monitors himself. "You've shown significant improvement lately since you've gone back to work."
"I told ya, doc." Jazz grinned, "I was dyin' of boredom in here. I needed to get out and explore the world."
Ratchet chuckled as he adjusted some cables, "Your humor has certainly made a come back which is most welcome. Things are going well, I take it? You and Miss Doe seem to be getting on splendidly."
"Yeah," Jazz agreed with an easy smile. "She's a good kid. Capable, smart...I'm confident that she's gonna do just fine. She's just..." his smile faltered slightly. "I don't know."
"She's just what?" Ratchet raised a concerned brow. "Is she still unwell?"
"Nah," Jazz shook his head. "Nothing like that, doc. She seemed to be feelin' a lot better today. It's just that..." He paused for a long moment. Then, "Hey, Ratch...you ever been to Stanix City?"
Ratchet nodded, "Many, many vorns ago. I did a short rotation at Fort Scyk prior to the war."
"You're lucky," the silver mech murmured. "I was sent there as part of a security detail after the Decepticons detonated an EMP bomb to bring down the communications grid right before the war really went full swing. We were supposed to provide protection for repair crews but...there wasn't really anything left worth saving. Almost the entire city was leveled. You want to know the worst part?"
Ratchet asked quietly, "What's that?"
"There weren't many survivors. Those that did make it were mostly young. Sparklings..." Jazz vented shakily, "Some barely even a decivorn old...nowhere near old enough to make it on their own."
Ratchet placed a comforting hand on the mechs shoulder. "Jazz..."
The mech shook his head, "They were terrified and alone. Everything they'd ever known was gone. Their creators, their families..." Jazz paused, taking a moment to gather himself. "I'd go out there, ya know? I'd take my rations out there. It wasn't much but...I thought if I could just help one...We were under orders, though. The Decepticons launched an assault Altihex not long after...they wanted control of the energon refineries." He shook his head. "Leaving those sparklings behind was one of the hardest things I think I've ever had to do."
Ratchet vented in sympathy, "I'm sorry, Jazz."
"She reminds me of them," he finally spoke. "Something about her...something in her eyes. She's been alone out there, Ratchet. I can tell."
"Well," Ratchet cleared his vocal processor. "She certainly isn't now."
"No, she most definitely isn't," Jazz smiled sadly. "Sorry to get all heavy on you, doc."
"I understand." Ratchet patted Jazz's shoulder. "You don't have to explain yourself to me." The mech retreated back to his desk and sank back down into his seat. "For what it's worth, I believe everything happens for a reason. Even ending up on this planet. Perhaps you were meant to find one another."
"Maybe," Jazz mused. He watched as the medic returned to his studies. "Hey, what are ya workin' on over there, doc?"
"Oh," Ratchet chuckled. "These are the samples I took from Miss Doe earlier today. I must say, human DNA is quite fascinating. Such amazing genetic diversity. Do you think she'd mind terribly if I catalogued her genome for scientific study?"
"Hard to say," Jazz shrugged. "Ya gonna do anything weird with it?"
Ratchet scoffed, "Oh, please..."
The silver mech grinned, "I'll ask her tomorrow."
"Many thanks," the mech went to turn back to his studies but paused. "You know, it was quite strange."
"What's that?" Jazz asked.
"When I entered her samples into Teletraan's microfluidic analysis system it initially read her biosignature as Cybertronian." Ratchet vented, "It was picking up some odd traces of residual energy fluctuations in its scans."
Jazz partially sat up, concerned. "What does that mean?"
"Apparently, nothing." The CMO vented. "I ran the samples through again without any issues. Probably a systems error. The damn thing's been under the ice for several vorns. Regardless, I brought the samples back here to take a look at myself. She's very obviously a healthy, human female."
"Good ta know," Jazz leaned back into the berth.
Ratchet hummed and turned back to his microscope. "What does the readout say now?"
"Uh...76.7 percent."
The medic smirked in amusement. "May as well get comfortable, Jazz. You're going to be here for a while."
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"Sunny?" Sideswipe drew air deep into his intakes, releasing it slowly, as he stretched lazily and looked over at his twin. The other mech's optics were dim and half-shuttered. It was late. Or early, depending on your point of view. He continued softly, "What did you think about tonight? I thought it went pretty well considering this is all brand new territory for us."
Sunstreaker answered, his voice a low rumble, "I guess..." He vented tiredly, "I guess the Squishie isn't as annoying as I thought she'd be." He shook his head, "I still don't know where you think this is going, Sides. One night doesn't change the fact that she's a human and we're not. She doesn't know half of what's going on and even if she did and was interested I can't see this working out for the better."
"It goes where it goes." Sides shrugged, "I don't have all the answers, but you know I wouldn't have dragged us into this if I didn't think there was something to it. We'll just do the best we can, and figure out the logistics as we go."
"You think that'll be enough?" Sunstreaker leveled his brother with a serious gaze, "What if it isn't? What if this all goes to the Pit? What then?"
"Then...we'll manage," Sides assured. "The two of us. Just like we always have. But," the mech added, "If I'm right..."
Sunny snorted, "I still think this is insane."
"Duly noted," The silver mech grinned. "You have to admit, though, this felt really good."
"It was...different," Sunstreaker admitted quietly. "I'll give you that."
"I think Ames enjoyed herself, too."
"Yeah?" Sunstreaker actually chuckled, his eyes drifting to the berth between where he and his brother still sat. "You think so?"
"Maybe a little too much," the mech admitted with an amused snort, his line of vision following his twin's. "That is slagging adorable."
Sunny grimaced, "Easy for you to say. She isn't drooling all over your armor."
Amy had made it through showings of 'Ghost in the Shell' and 'The Naked Gun'. It was...fun. They'd talked about the movies and Amy had explained some of the references and jokes they both didn't quite get. About halfway through a screening of 'Gremlins', however, the woman had begun to yawn and her eyes began to droop. It wasn't long after that her eyes and drifted shut and her breathing had slowed and deepened. She'd slumped over, her head resting against her knees, eventually slipping down to rest against the closest surface which, at the time, had been Sunstreaker's forearm. In her sleep, she'd practically curled herself around his wrist.
Sunstreaker shook his head and tried to move his arm only to have the woman tighten her grip, "She's like a fragging electro leach."
Sideswipe scoffed and slipped off the berth. He stretched once again, popping the struts in his back, and sighed in contentment. He shot his brother a teasing glance. "Oh, stop pretending like you don't like it."
Ignoring his twin, Sunstreaker asked, "Think we should wake her?"
"Nah," Sides waved off the suggestion. "She's out of it for the night. Let's just let her sleep." He sighed, "She always seems tired. I get the impression she doesn't usually rest well."
Sunstreaker grunted his assent.
"Tell you what," Sideswipe reached to carefully brush some of the hair that had come loose from the knot Amy kept it in out of her face. "Take my berth tonight. She looks comfortable. I'll crash in your's."
"Yeah," Sunstreaker agreed. "Alright."
Sides moved quietly to the other side of the room to rummage through the shelves. After a moment he turned and tossed something to his brother. "Sunny, catch."
Sunstreaker used his free arm to snap the tossed item out of the air, unfurling it to find a blanket. He eyed his brother curiously but received only a shrug in return. With a shake of his head, he tucked the blanket around the slumbering woman before settling himself in the berth as well.
"Like I said," Sideswipe teased, "Slagging adorable."
"Shut your face," Sunny grumbled as he tried to get comfortable without disturbing the human. "As far as your concerned, this never happened."
"Whatever you say, bro." Sideswipe chuckled as he climbed into his brother's berth and settled himself. "Goodnight, Sunny."
After a moment, Sunstreaker mumbled, "Night, bit brain."
End of Chapter 17
