Finding Home
Chapter 30
By Voodoo Queen
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Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Pop the cork on the champagne! We've reached chapter 30! I can hardly believe it. So, about this chapter...kinda sorta suggestive to start due to Sunstreaker discovering Sideswipe's 'research' but nothing too graphic. But, if you no like, please no read...just skip the first section and hop down to the next. Keep in mind, they're aliens in a relationship with a human trying to figure out how everything fits together. *wink, wink* The poor mech was just trying to be 'in the know', ya know? Totally for educational purposes. Don't judge him! Thank you to all of you who've added this story to your follows and favorites. I'm so happy to have your support. To my amazing reviewers: AquaJinx, Roofscat, 'Guest', Stickaroo, Jaden Kismet, Sirenix Prime, Autobot-Bre-Lightblast, Annie, hhutch20, jojoniles, sakurawriter, HenriettaDarlington, InsanityUnleashed, Pixiekatt, Tonythecool, DimensionJumperAlpha, The Whispering Sage, Edges05, ElleGirl19, ALoveForOrcas, MysticFire101, xXxEveryRoseHasItsThornxXx, Mysine, Inkaholic4U, BarricadesDemon216, KayleeChiara, the everchanging, Rhyssia, SubatomicTea...I appreciate all your feedback and critique from the very bottom of my little robot-alien loving heart!
P.S. Sorry it took me longer than normal to get this one out. I caught a really nasty cold from my S.O. and was basically useless for about a week. I actually think I may have had the flu...at any rate, I'm feeling much better and can actually string a coherent sentence together again, lol.
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.
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"This is what you do in your free time, Sides? Malfunctioning bit brain..." Sunstreaker chuckled quietly in amusement as he tapped on the mysterious 'Research' folder he'd found on the data pad he'd borrowed from his brother. Inside, he'd found a series of sub folders labeled 'Humans' and all were sequentially numbered. Altogether there were about ten of them, the oldest dated from around the same time Sides had first stumbled upon Amy with the most recent folder being updated just a couple days ago. Sideswipe had obviously put a lot of time and effort into whatever this 'research' entailed given the amount of data he'd stored away.
Under any other circumstances, Sunstreaker would have been angry, furious even, that his twin had seemingly dedicated so much of his energy toward better understanding the planet's native inhabitants in the hope of establishing an intimate relationship with one. Honestly, despite their unique situation, Sunny still didn't care that much for the humans. He held firm in his beliefs that they were filthy, greasy little things that toed the line between being an ally and being a straight up pest. He had a reluctant respect for the soldiers who accompanied them out into the field but that was about the extent of his feelings where they were concerned. Reconciling his emotions for Amy had forced him to find away around his dislike of her species. He refused to think of her as 'One of Them'. Instead, he'd taken to thinking of her simply as 'Theirs' and pointedly ignored everything else to the contrary. The outside packaging didn't matter so much as the content and he was willing to overlook certain 'design flaws' the femme possessed if it meant the possibility they could find some peace. It was reasoning that he could live with at least.
He tapped on the first folder dated around the time this whole strange relationship had started. Inside he found a bunch of articles that had obviously been downloaded from the human's Internet. They all mostly centered around the same theme of how to approach women, how to tell if a woman is interested, how to make a woman interested, et cetera. He casually thumbed through the articles. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do. It was mostly a bunch of slag that he already knew just from his own experience and observations since being on the planet. Cybertronian and human body language, social queues, and indicators of sexual attraction, thankfully, ran along similar enough lines in most instances. That, at least, was one thing they had working in their favor. They knew how to pick up femmes. That had never been an issue.
Bored, he closed out of the first folder and tapped on the next. It was more of the same useless, information. Most of which, he noted with some amusement, was just common sense that any mech with half a processor should know. For example, an article discussing what not to say to women advised against making comments in reference to a woman's weight. Sunny shook his head, wondering at why human males would even have to be told not to do this. No femme, at least as far as he knew, wanted to hear that their aft looked like the tail end of a 69 Cadillac Coupe DeVille. On the other hand, he mused, the Squishie seemed like she had a nice aft. At least, what he'd been able to briefly grasp of it through the layers of her clothes had felt really nice...
He shook his head, chastising himself for his wayward thoughts and closed out of the file and skipped down to the next one. The subsequent three or four folders were all similar content and so he bypassed them with little interest. The next one however was...interesting in a morbid sort of way. Sunstreaker hadn't been sure what to expect when he tapped open the folder but he certainly hadn't counted on coming face to face with a series of detailed anatomical drawings of the human body that looked like they had been ripped right from the pages of some fleshy medical text book.
Initially, he was taken aback, even mildly disgusted, as he flipped through the images of the male human form drawn in various stages of dissection with all its parts neatly labeled. They only served to reinforce his view of humans as walking sacks of meat. He found himself wondering how such a species had even managed to survive this long, especially given the fact that the males seemed to have all their 'vital components' hanging loose and free outside of their bodies. It was revolting, really, and quite alarming...not to mention extremely unsightly. He certainly couldn't have lived like that, in constant fear of his unprotected interfacing equipment being damaged, or worse. He valued that particular piece of hardware far too much to risk it in such a manner.
He shuddered at the thought , thumbed passed to the next set of images, and paused.
His natural, visceral reaction to the medical drawings of the female form was also one of aversion but there was also some genuine curiosity given his and Sides' personal predicament. He squashed his repugnance for the moment and took time to actually look at the picture figuring it may at least be somewhat educational. What he saw was not in the least bit appealing or stimulating in any way, shape, or form. The standard anatomical model stared blankly out from the page, all skinless sinewy muscle, arms and legs stretched wide, offering nothing but a cold, clinical glimpse of what Sunstreaker could only see as a side of disgusting, organic fleshiness. He didn't like thinking of his Squishie that way and he refused to start doing so now, not after growing attached to her against his better judgment.
He quickly thumbed through the rest of the pictures that picked the model apart body system by body system, not wanting to see any more than he had to, when he finally came across something that didn't make him want to immediately purge his tank all over the aircraft. It was a simple black and white sketch diagram of the female human reproductive system. Sunstreaker perked up a bit, disgust replaced by a slight feeling of intrigue. He didn't know what a 'fallopian tube' did or what the purpose of an 'ovary' was but this...this was something that he knew. He didn't care what the arrows pointing to the picture called it. The humans could label it whatever they wanted but he knew an interface valve when he saw one. Sure, there were some definite structural variations but that was to be expected given the fact that they were two completely different species, he supposed. Still, it was similar enough to what he was familiar with that it actually put a part of his mind that he hadn't even realized had been worrying about such things at ease. He knew exactly what to do with one of these. Oh yes, he did.
He snorted, casting a glance down to his recharging twin. "As much as I hate to admit it, you may actually be on to something here, Sides," he muttered quietly.
The next two folders had similar medical-type information as well as some articles on human sexuality that he only skimmed over before moving on. He couldn't have cared less about human sexual preferences so long as the Squishie was into the two of them. It didn't matter anyway. If they could breach the interspecies hurdle, everything else was just details. They could certainly accommodate her tastes either way if it came down to something as trivial as that. Cybertronians were a highly adaptable species, after all. Not that they would ever push her into anything that she wasn't interested in but the possibilities were there if she wanted to explore them. He lingered a bit over a paper that described various human sexual practices and positions and found himself surprisingly impressed by both the creativity and the flexibility some of the more 'advanced' positions required. Still, he and Sides probably could have taught them a thing or two.
He absently wondered how familiar Amy was with the types of acts described. She was, after all, a sexually mature adult female. He was certain she hadn't been cloistered prior to their arrival on Earth and she was, he admitted with a twinge of masculine pride, very attractive...for a human, that is. She was desirable by her species standards, even if she didn't realize it and was totally oblivious. He certainly wasn't blind. He'd taken notice of how men's eyes would linger on her when she walked by. How they were a bit too friendly with her while conducting their business or casually touched her when they spoke to her. He realized at that moment that he didn't like thinking about her doing the types of things described in the article with anyone else. The thought of anyone else touching her, of knowing her in that way made his internal temperature rise and not in a good way. It was hypocritical of him, he knew. He and Sideswipe certainly hadn't been a pair of celibate hermits before meeting her. They'd had no qualms about indulging themselves whenever the opportunity presented itself. Which, he had to admit, was fairly often.
Before he could get too bogged down in those memories, he quickly exited out of the folder and moved on to the next. As soon as he tapped it open and the images and vid links contained therein loaded, his optics widened and then narrowed. He took a cautious glance around the cargo hold. Sideswipe was knocked out next to him in recharge, Bee was in his alt mode also resting, while Ironhide was still messing around with his sizable arsenal. The few humans sharing their flight, naturally, kept their distance from him...for safety reasons.
"You filthy fragger..." Sunstreaker smirked as he refocused on the data pad. Whatever footage Sideswipe had been busy collecting, it was obvious that he'd taken care to only select content that included petite, blonde females. Coincidence? Sunny thought not. It was glaringly obvious to Sunstreaker what Sideswipe's frame of mind had been when he'd downloaded these particular files. The women didn't really look all that much like their Squishie, not nearly as attractive or desirable in his optics, but the similarities were enough so that his imagination could fill in the blanks. He was an artist, after all. He had a very, very good imagination. He made sure the sound was muted and tapped on the first link with only a split moment of hesitation. Though he'd much prefer to be back in his and Sides' quarters with the femme in question nestled safely between them while they better familiarized themselves with her incredibly exotic softness, once he'd settled back against the bulkhead and the first video began to play he decided that this Primus-forsaken trip had just gotten a little more tolerable.
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The day had dragged on at an excruciatingly slow pace. Though Amy still felt like death warmed over, she'd found that if she remained as still as she possibly could that she didn't feel quite as bad as she did when she actually had to get up and move around. It was the strangest feeling, really, like being a wind up toy running out of momentum as the spring wound down. The smallest effort left her feeling utterly exhausted and out of sorts but she pressed on, refusing to admit that anything was wrong. She refused to be defeated by this...whatever it was. The pounding in her head continued unabated as did the lonesome ache in her chest. She resigned herself to doing paperwork most of the day as well as keeping an eye on the satellite imagery and Teletraan's feeds, a boring job she was for once thankful for as it required minimal physical effort.
Jazz had checked in on her frequently, as had Prowl who was in and out of the bunker as he kept tabs on the status of the work on the containment area. She managed to soldier through the worst of it, working diligently and putting on her most pleasant airs to put the mechs' minds at ease. That is, until the sawing and hammering started. It wasn't even that terribly loud being that they were working in the very back of the bunker and she was in the office with the door closed it it was enough to make her feel nauseated once again. After a couple hours of listening to teeth gritting, stomach turning, ear bleeding racket, she felt like someone was repeatedly bashing her head in with the claw end of a hammer. By the time 3 o'clock finally rolled around, she grabbed her things and practically ran from the office after shouting a quick farewell to both Jazz and Prowl on her mad dash toward the elevator. Her only thought was to escape back to the relative quiet of the barracks where she could curl up into the fetal position and sleep...or die. Whichever came first.
God, but she was so tired.
Her arms felt like dead weight at her sides and her legs like lead dragging her down as she made her way slowly toward the shuttle stop. Halfway there, an extreme feeling of fatigue washed over her and she actually had to stop for a moment and rest. She sagged against the side of a Humvee parked next to one of the buildings and tried to catch her breath. She felt like she'd run a marathon when in fact she'd only walked about a block. She let her eyes flutter closed and tried to resist the urge to curl up in a ball on the ground and take a nap. Maybe, she thought absently, all her sleepless nights were finally catching up with her. It was bound to happen sooner or later, she told herself. One couldn't function indefinitely on basically zero sleep without some sort of eventual crash. At least, she hoped that's what it was.
"Tesoro...mia bella, is everything alright?"
Amy's eyes snapped open to find Mirage kneeling before her with a concerned look on his face. She was actually a bit startled by his closeness. He was near enough that she could feel his warm ventilations wash over her as he 'breathed'. That he could sneak up on her without her even noticing put her slightly on edge. How out of it was she? Still, she put a smile on her face. "Hey, Mir-, uh, Dino. Yeah, sorry...everything's fine."
The mech rocked back on his heels, giving her some space to breathe. A frown creased his faceplates. "Are you certain, bel fiore? I called your name several times and you didn't answer. You look a bit ill, no?"
"Uh," Amy shifted uncomfortably. "I, uh, I think I may be coming down with something."
"Ah," Mirage nodded. "Have you spoken with il dottore?"
"Il dottore?" Amy's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Sì," Mirage nodded. "Ratchet. He is looking after you due to your...delicate condition...no?"
"Oh," Amy shook her head, chuckling softly. "My condition...yes. Yes, he is. No, I haven't seen him. Not yet. I was going to check in with him in the morning if I don't feel better. I think I may just need to sleep it off. I was on my way to catch the shuttle back to the barracks to do just that."
"I see." Mirage looked at the woman thoughtfully. "Please, allow me to take you home, bella. You should not have to wait for the bus if you're not feeling well and I would not be much of a friend if I didn't see to the needs of a damsel in distress."
Amy mulled the offer over. The shuttles ran every thirty minutes and a quick glance of her watch told her that she'd missed the last one by five minutes. The idea of having to sit at the stop for twenty-five minutes with a pounding headache and bone-deep exhaustion made her cringe. Plus, she'd rode with the mech before when Jazz had asked him to take her back to the barracks after the incident in the med bay so she really didn't see any harm in it. She looked back up at him. "Are you sure you don't mind? I don't want to put you out of your way."
"Nonsense. I insist," Mirage assured. "It would be my pleasure."
"Thank you," Amy smiled tiredly at the mech. "Very much."
Mirage inclined his head and stood, immediately collapsing into himself in an amazing display of mechanical magic. When he was finished, a shiny, red Ferrari 458 Italia rested in his place. The driver's door popped open in invitation. "Come, bella. I will happily escort you home."
Sluggishly, Amy climbed into the driver's seat put on her seat belt. She patted the center of the steering wheel gently and thanked the mech once again. "I really appreciate the ride, Dino. I honestly wasn't looking forward to waiting on the shuttle."
Mirage chuckled, "Your thanks are not needed, prediletto. I am most happy to be of service."
"Still..." Amy muttered sleepily as she rested her head back against the seat. "You're quite the gentleman, er, mech. I owe you one..."
They drove in mostly silence for a moment. Amy watched the now-familiar scenery go by with half-lidded eyes. Now that she was sitting still and not having to exert any effort she felt marginally better. The radio played softly in the background. Amy wasn't a fan of opera music, not really, but the woman singing had an absolutely lovely voice and the volume was low enough to be enjoyable even with her aching head. She allowed her thoughts to drift, wondering about the days events, the work going on down in the bunker, but mostly, she thought of the twins and how much she really wanted to talk to them again.
"I cannot believe those two delinquenti left you here by yourself," Mirage commented suddenly out of the blue. "Their prima priorità should be your wellbeing if what they say about your bond with them is true."
Amy started at the sudden sound of the mech's smooth accent rolling through the Ferrari's interior. She cocked a brow in question. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe?"
"Sì," the mech confirmed, sounding a bit bitter. "They neglect you already."
"They aren't...they aren't neglecting me." Amy bristled, a need to defend her mechs welling up inside of her. "They really didn't have much choice in the matter. The powers that be decided they needed to go. They still have a job to do, you know. Whatever relationship we share with each other, that doesn't change the fact that there's a war going on and we need everyone to fight it. I'm military. I understand how these things go. You go where you need to go and do what you need to do to get the job done. I don't hold it against them."
"Perhaps," Mirage hummed. "But they could have refused. They could have demanded someone else be sent in their place. Had it been me, I would have fought to remain near my adorato. Especially given these unique circumstances, not knowing how my absence may affect her. Though, it shouldn't be surprising. They know nothing of devozione."
Amy frowned, "What do you mean?"
Mirage vented, "They are very, how do you say, bella...fickle."
Amy blinked. "Fickle?"
"Sì, piccolo," Mirage confirmed. "They are bored easily once the novelty wears off...always looking for the next thrill, the next battle, the next femme to warm their berth..."
"O-oh..." Amy's frown deepened. "I-I see..."
Mirage continued on, "They are ruffiani volgari...uncivilized. You are such a bella donna...a very smart, beautiful woman. It pains me to see you in such a predicament. That is why I say it is an unfortunate situation." The mech pulled smoothly up to the curb in front of the barracks. "Here we are. You are safely home, prediletto."
"I, uh...thank...thank you." Amy fumbled to release her seat belt as Mirage opened his door for her. With a bit more effort than she usually required, she levered herself up out of the car.
"You are most welcome," Mirage replied, his voice rumbling out from the idling car. "If I can be of any further service, please, do not hesitate to ask."
Amy nodded, "I appreciate that."
"And bella," the mech added as he shifted himself back into gear, "if you aren't feeling better in the morning, please, go see Ratchet."
"I'll do that," she promised.
"Addio, mio caro," Mirage bid her farewell as he pulled away from the curb.
Amy waved, frown still firmly on her face as she pondered the topic of their conversation. Mirage could have no idea of the demon he'd just released. Long held self-doubts began to scurry out of the darkest recesses of her mind to harass her. They weren't neglecting her, she told herself. They were doing their job. Hell, she'd been the one to tell them to go do their job. She'd literally just argued with Prowl over them doing their job. They weren't fickle. They weren't bored. At least, she didn't think they were. They hadn't seemed to be but...how would she know? She knew better than to let herself be lulled into a false sense of security. She'd learned the hard way that just about the time she'd begin to get comfortable was when the ground would be yanked out from beneath her. This was her fault. Her's. Always.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and stared at the screen for a long moment. No calls. No messages. No texts. It was nearly 4 o'clock and, by her calculations at least, the plane the twins were on should be nearing its final destination if it hadn't already made it there. They'd promised her they would call. They would call. She nodded to herself in assurance even as a stab of loneliness twisted through her chest and the warmth lodged there flared achingly. They would call. She knew they would.
She shoved her phone back into her pocket and slowly made her way into the barracks building, feeling her energy wane again quickly as she did so. She nodded a hello to the posted watch who watched her warily as she picked her way across the lobby. Foregoing the stairs she usually took, pressed the button for the elevator to take her up to the appropriate floor. She'd never appreciated an elevator ride as much as she did at that moment. When the doors finally opened, she found herself longing for a moving walkway like those at the airport, as well, just to transport the short distance to her quarters. Uncoordinated but determined, she made her way down the hallway to her room, stumbling once or twice as her legs just didn't seem to want to cooperate with her brain's instructions. Once she'd located her door, it took her a time or two to get her key card in the slot and get it open. She fumbled her way into her room, shutting and locking the door behind her. Her eyes landed on her bed and the urge to just curl up and hibernate hit her with a renewed longing.
Without much thought, she began to strip out of her uniform, letting the clothing articles lay where they fell, not bothering to put them into her laundry bag. She did take a couple extra seconds to unclip her military ID from her lapel and fish her phone back out of her cargo pocket and chuck them both onto her nightstand before collapsing onto her bed in just her undershirt and skivvies. It took what felt like a monumental effort just to claw her way up to her pillow and slide beneath the blankets. On her nightstand, the screen on her cellphone lit up as it buzzed, begging to be answered. She turned her head toward the sound, another stab of longing working its way through her chest even as a sleepy smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and her eyes fluttered shut sending her into the dark, chasmal abyss with its mysterious, chattering inhabitant.
She knew they would call.
End of Chapter 30
