Finding Home
Chapter 43
By Voodoo Queen
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Author's Note: Hello, Dear Readers! Sorry this chapter was so long coming...it turned into a MONSTER! I thought about chopping it in half but then was like, meh. I'll let it go till it decides to stop on its own but then I ended up with over 14k words. I could've written more but I had to stop myself. I need help, ya'll, lol. But, I needed to take care of some more housekeeping items and if you look close, you may even see a clue as to what might actually be happening to our long-suffering heroine. I even threw a special treat in here as a thank you for being such a wonderful and patient audience—I thought we were due for some smooches and fluff and maybe something kinda...I dunno, suggestive? If I haven't said it before, I'll say it now...I don't normally write risqué material so it is what it is. I tried. That said, things will get better, at least for now. We still have Decepticons to worry about.
Thanks so much for all the follows and faves. I'm thrilled to know you're enjoying the story. Special thanks to my always-wonderful reviewers: Songbird's Spirit, bonnieandjangolove, monkeybaby, KayleeChiara, o-dragon, HalfwayParanoid, Othersideof, shelby20125, 'Guests', Anonymous, SunnyandSidesFemme17, poppycakes, jellybeanz513, Leonixon, Deimoss, the everchanging, 2lazy to login (I feel ya man, lol), xIliadx, .Princess, aquarius89
If i missed anyone, I do apologize :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, just my own original characters and plot.
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Optimus Prime was, the vast majority of the time, a very patient mech. He was well aware that in any group setting there would be those who wouldn't or couldn't get along for whatever reason. Add to that the strain of being far from home on alien terrain and dealing with the whole slew of conflicts that came along with it, the occasional scuffle was bound to happen. This was especially true in situations where those involved had such vastly different upbringings, backgrounds, and social status. He always tried very hard to see both sides of any argument in order to bring about the most fair and just outcome that he could for all involved. It seemed, however, that it had been the same three individuals repeatedly gracing his office ever since they'd arrived on the planet.
It was, to put it simply, a complete conflict of personality that was beginning to get quite old.
Mirage came from old money. He had traveled in social circles in which wealth and privilege had been the rule rather than the exception. He had wanted for nothing and had become accustomed to a certain standard of living among a certain class of people. The war had changed all that. To use a human phrase, he'd become a fish out of water. The mech had been forced outside of his very cushy comfort zone, thrown into the mix with people that he would have never, not in a million years, even dreamed of interacting or socializing with. The war may have decimated their home but it had done little to change Mirage's mindset. Though Prime much appreciated his contribution to the effort and willingness to be a part of the team, he was well aware of Mirage's tendency to view himself as superior in both breeding and status in most social circumstances. It was a point of contention that tended to grind the gears of those around him...some, of course, more than others.
The twins were the complete opposite in nearly all aspects. They'd grown up orphans, living hand to mouth, in arguably the very worst part of Cybertron. Prime, however, admired their tenacity and strength of spirit. They'd experienced first hand the totalitarian brutality of Decepticon rule and had seen the very worst the war had to offer with their own optics. They'd been forced to rely on their wits and their fists in order to survive. Yet, despite everything, they had come out the other side far stronger for all the trials and tribulations they'd experienced. They knew well that not everyone looked upon them in a favorable light, thinking them too rough around the edges. Some stopping just short of outright accusing them of being the very thing they fought against. They were forced to prove themselves and their loyalty over and over again to assuage the wariness and suspicion some carried towards them. They were good mechs, however, and Prime knew they weren't the loose cannons certain individuals made them out to be. They certainly didn't go around indiscriminately punching people in the face. That, it seemed, was a privilege they'd reserved solely for Mirage.
Optimus vented tiredly, his fingers rubbing at the spot of tension that had settled itself right between his optics. "What's the extent of the damage?"
"Cosmetic, mostly," Ratchet replied from where he leaned against the wall next to the door in Prime's office. "I've no doubt had Sunstreaker wished to seriously hurt him that he would have. As it stands, I think Mirage's pride sustained the most grievous injury. Physically speaking, he should be fine in a couple of days."
"And the twins?" Prime asked.
"Not so much as a scratch on either of them." Ratchet smirked, slightly amused, " Not too surprising given the circumstances."
"Do we know what caused this latest altercation?" Prime looked to his SIC.
Prowl nodded, "I spoke with Bumblebee. He stated that a rather unflattering exchange took place in reference to the twins' relationship with Petty Officer Doe prior to the incident escalating. However, the twins were already geared up over something when they arrived on scene."
"Humph," Ratchet huffed, crossing his arms over his chest plates. "Primus only knows. The twins and Mirage are like oil and water, as the humans say. They simply don't mix. You'd think he'd eventually learn to stop picking at them...especially over such a sensitive subject. It's only asking for trouble."
"This behavior cannot be allowed to continue...on either side," Optimus agreed. "We're ending this now. One way or another," he stated simply. "Send them in."
Ratchet quietly excused himself from the room to return to his duties in the med bay as Prowl opened the door to the office. The SIC's optics met those of the Third in Command who'd been waiting patiently right outside. Jazz had been sparksitting for lack of a better term. He was keeping the two offending parties, both of whom still seemed to be quite on edge, separate and calm...at least for for the most part. Prowl knew his friend was trying very hard to be an impartial third party but that it was difficult to do so when circumstances centered around something so near and dear to his spark.
"He'll see them now," Prowl announced.
Jazz nodded in acknowledgment. You heard the mech," he ordered. "Let's go."
"I am ready," Mirage gingerly rose from where he'd been sitting on a shipping crate. His voice had an almost nasally quality, an underlying whistle stemming from his injured nasal plates which had been freshly tack welded back together curtesy of Ratchet. He glared at the twins, his face still throbbing. "Perhaps these stronzi will finally get what they deserve."
"Watch your mouth," Jazz ordered, and roughly pushed the mech on through the door. "Save whatever you have to say for Optimus."
"See?" Sideswipe chuckled as he moved toward the office. "I told you, that slagger can't keep his trap shut. That's why his face looks like he had a head on collision with a freight train. Ow!" Sides winced as Jazz smacked him in the back of the head. His hand flew up to rub the tender spot. "What did you do that for? That hurt!"
"Your head ain't the only thing goin' to be hurtin' if you don't shut your mouth an' get in there," Jazz threatened. "Prime is the least of your worries right now."
Sideswipe frowned but closed his mouth and did as he was told.
Jazz turned to look at the yellow twin who seemed content to glare back at him. He warned, "Don't even get me started. Trust me, ya don't wanna go there right now." The TIC tipped his head in the direction of the door. "Let's go."
Sunstreaker glared at the mech for another long moment before venting heavily and trudging into the office.
Jazz, bringing up the rear, sighed and shook his head. "Kids..." he muttered to himself as he, too, entered the office and closed the door behind himself. He took up his usual place for disciplinary proceedings at the rear of the room, behind and in between the opposing parties, ready to jump in and lend assistance if need be. He stood silently, though there was plenty he'd like to say. He'd hold his glossa...for now, at least.
Mirage sat to one side of the room, most of his gusto seeming to have evaporated in the presence of the Prime. He no longer seemed so inclined to voice his thoughts as loudly as he had been. Instead, he sat up straight in his seat, hands folded primly in his lap, with his optics fixed on a spot on the far wall. He made the occasional snuffling noise, wincing slightly as he did so. The slight whistling had stopped, however, as he'd decided to draw ventilation's through his mouth instead. In all, he looked decidedly uncomfortable.
The twins had taken up residence on the opposite side of the room. Sideswipe still had a frown firmly set on his face. He kept his gaze to the ground in front of him and his hands clenched on his knees. He looked as though his thoughts were a million miles away. Sunstreaker sat to his right, slightly slouched down in his seat. The yellow twin's arms were crossed over his chest plates and his left leg bounced repeatedly up and down in an agitated manner. His steely gaze threatened to burn a hole right through the wall. Anger would have been the first emotion that came to mind upon observing the mech, but a closer look would have shown frustration to be the root cause of Sunny's unrest.
Prime eyed his three troublemakers and shook his head in a disappointed manner. "This," he sternly observed, "is becoming an all too familiar occurrence." He leveled his gaze on the twins. "Would either of you care to explain why you felt it necessary to accost your teammate? In front of a group of humans, no less?"
Sideswipe drew air down deep into his intakes in preparation to answer, to offer an explanation that might soften the blow to their arrangement with Amy, but his brother beat him to it.
Sunstreaker glowered across the aisle at Mirage, "Would our teammate care to explain why he finds it necessary to stick his fragging nose into situations that don't concern him?"
Mirage looked affronted. "I have no idea what he is talking about," he denied. "They are reprobi, the both of them!"
That's enough with the name callin'," Jazz warned. "I'm not tellin' you again."
"He knows exactly what he did," Sunstreaker insisted. "Mirage started this whole thing by running his slagging mouth, spouting lies about us to the Squishie."
"Yeah," Sideswipe agreed. He turned in his chair and looked back to Jazz, "He's been messing with Ames every chance he gets. If you don't believe us, you can ask her."
Jazz frowned, "She hasn't mentioned anything to me."
"Of course she hasn't," Sunny rolled his optics. "We had to practically pry it out of her when she wouldn't tell us what was wrong. You know as well as we do that she doesn't want anyone fussing over her. She could be laying there dying and she'd still look you straight in the optic and say she was fine."
"They are the liars," Mirage insisted. "I do not harass la signorina. She deserves to know who she is tied to. I only tell her the truth."
"The truth about what?" Sideswipe scoffed, "You don't even know us well enough to have an opinion one way or the other."
"I know what I see," Mirage sniffed. "You are indiscriminate and unrefined."
"I'll show you indiscriminate," Sunny's hands tightened into fists, the only thing stopping him from providing the infiltrator with a blow-by-blow replay of their earlier entanglement was a stern look of warning from his brother and the sudden appearance of Jazz's hands upon his shoulders, holding him down where he sat.
"Keep your aft in the chair," Jazz advised in a low tone only Sunstreaker could hear.
Prowl leveled his piercing gaze on the infiltrator, "Bee did mention that there were words exchanged. Some not particularly polite in regards to Petty Officer Doe. Do you care to explain?"
Mirage made a nervous sputtering sound. "I was upset," he quickly excused. "I was punched in the face. I do not know what all I said."
"He called her a slagging joke," Sunny sneered. "A lowly organic..."
"That's not all," Sides added. "He's been going around telling her all kinds of scrap about how we're all basically just using her as a means to an end. You know her, Jazz. How do you think that makes her feel?"
Jazz's frown deepened, his attention shifting from the twins to Mirage, "Is this true?"
The mech fidgeted, "She seems a nice, young femme. I...worry."
"Let me make one thing very clear," Prime rumbled, settling his stern gaze on the infiltrator. "Petty Officer Doe is a valuable member of this team. As such, she is to be treated with the same respect and professional consideration you'd give anyone else." Prime continued, "Furthermore, her personal relationships with Jazz and the twins do not involve you. This is an extremely serious and delicate situation that we are doing our very best to balance to everyone's benefit, her's included. If you have any concerns, they are to be directed to myself, Prowl, or Jazz. You do not take out your issues with the twins on Petty Officer Doe. Do I make myself clear?"
Mirage, looking thoroughly chastised, nodded his head. "Si, Comandante."
"As for the pair of you," Optimus shifted his focus to the twins, "do we really need to have this conversation again? I don't expect the two of you and Mirage to be the best of friends, but neither will I stand for physical altercations between my crew members. These are critical times. Our priorities need to be focused on containing the threat to Earth, preventing the Decepticon forces from regrouping, and ensuring the Allspark remains hidden and protected. In order to do that, this crew must be operating to 100% of their ability. That cannot happen if we're infighting and causing injury amongst ourselves." Prime vented and shook his head. "I understand the desire to protect those you care about. I truly do. However, I strongly suggest you find the means to do so that does not involve causing bodily harm to your teammates. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Sides murmured.
"Sunstreaker?" Prime eyed the yellow twin.
"Yeah," The mech responded after a moment. "Whatever."
Prime again vented tiredly, turning his attention to his Second in Command. "Have you worked out a suitable disciplinary action given the circumstances?"
"Yes, sir," Prowl answered crisply. "Given current concerns in regards to safeguarding the Allspark, maintaining situational preparedness, and our limited manpower with which to do so, I recommend forgoing brig time in exchange for doubled security detail for the next deca-cycle. To be effective immediately."
"I find that acceptable," Prime agreed, looking to his TIC. "Jazz?"
Jazz nodded, "Sounds fair enough to me."
"Make it so," Prime declared with tired ventilation. He tapped the data pad on his desk, bringing up the watch bill. "Sunstreaker, beginning this evening, you will take over both the 1200-1600 and the 1600 to 2000 patrol."
The yellow front liner merely inclined his chin in acknowledgment.
"Sideswipe," Prime continued, "You will pick up the 2000-2400 rounds as well as the 2400-0400. You may alternate daily shifts between the two of you should you wish."
"Understood." Sides nodded, some of the tension he'd been carrying leaving his shoulders. At least they wouldn't be confined to the brig. All wasn't lost.
"What?" Mirage bristled. "That is all? They assaulted me!"
"I'd be more than happy to lock them up in the brig for a few days." Prowl leveled his gaze on the infiltrator. "That is, if you'd like to fill in the gaps in the watch rotation their incarceration would cause?"
Mirage huffed, crossing his arms over his chest plates, but said no more.
"Since we're all here, I'd also like to take this opportunity to remind you all of the need for discretion where Petty Officer Doe is concerned." Optimus gave Jazz a knowing look, "Though we remain supportive of this relationship, you must bear in mind that our human friends, due to their lack of understanding and experience in these types of situations, would most likely not be as accepting. I don't think I need to go into the complications such a revelation could cause between ourselves and our allies. I simply ask you all to bear that in mind the next time you're considering making a spectacle of yourselves in public. Now," Prime folded his hands atop his desk, "If there are no further questions or issues anyone would like to raise, you're all dismissed."
Without another word, Mirage stood and quickly vacated Prime's office.
The twins lingered a moment longer, sharing a relieved look between themselves before they, too, rose from their seats and headed for the exit.
Jazz politely excused himself and followed the pair out into the hangar proper, stepping in front of them to block their path. "Where do you two think you're goin'?"
"Uh," Sideswipe looked at Jazz like he'd gone senile. "Home?"
Sunstreaker frowned, "To relieve the fragging watch."
The TIC shook his head, "I don't think so." He pointed in the direction of Prowl's empty office. "Get in there. We need to talk."
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Amy had sat on the couch staring off into space for what felt like hours. Alone in the twins' quarters, she'd lost all sense of time. A quick look at her watch, however, told her it had only been about forty-five minutes. It was more than enough time for her imagination to run rampant, however. She wondered where Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had been taken and what was happening to them. She wondered exactly what had transpired to earn Mirage the beating he'd endured. Mostly, she wondered what in the world she was supposed to do now besides sit and stew in her emotions.
She was angry. That was a given. She was also disappointed. Regardless of her misgivings, she'd actually been enjoying herself up until this point. Though it had only been the first morning of their week-long agreement, it had been a pleasant one and she'd been very much looking forward to the rest of the week. Less than one day in, however, and the cops—or a cop car, at the very least—had already broke down their door. Had she not been an active participant in the drama, she probably would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
Yet, despite her anger and disappointment, there was a small part of her that was touched in a weird way. She didn't approve of violence. She'd been on the receiving end enough times that she'd grown to naturally abhor it outside of absolute necessity. The idea of anyone fighting over her, of all people, was a foreign concept and caused more than a little distress. The closer she'd become with the twins, the more she'd come to recognize and understand the patterns in their behavior. She was by no means an expert, but that same, small part of her was able to acknowledge the protective drive behind what they had done. Acknowledgment and approval, however, were two different things.
The first inklings of restlessness began to prickle through her. Sideswipe had asked her to stay, to wait, but she couldn't sit still...not with all the thoughts tumbling around in her head. She needed to get up. She needed to move around. As she rose out of her stupor and approached the door, it was at that moment she realized that she was more or less trapped inside the space. Prowl had, she believed inadvertently, shut her in when he'd come for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.
She eyed the enormous door. It was a heavy, single-slide hangar door built in two parts. Under normal circumstances, a hydraulic motor would have pulled each section into the door pocket allowing anyone with the ability to press a button the means by which to access and exit the space. Whoever had installed this door, however, must have believed that giant, metal aliens needed no such help. As fit as Amy was—a body builder by no means, but certainly capable of easily passing the PRT every six months— she wasn't sure she possessed enough muscle power on her petite frame to facilitate her escape but she wasn't going to let that stop her from trying.
"Alright," she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. She rubbed her hands together in preparation, trying to psych herself up. "You can do this..."
With nothing to grasp onto for leverage, she was much too short to reach the handle that had been welded up high for the mechs' use, she planted her hands flat against the first panel and tried to push/slide the door toward the pocket on the left. She strained, pressing her entire body weight into the effort. The door groaned slightly under the pressure but she couldn't be sure if it was actually moving or whether her sweaty hands had simply slid a bit. Puffing out a breath, she turned her attention to where the door met the jamb. Maybe pulling would be easier? Her fingers dug into the crevice and scrabbled against the door frame. She just managed to get the edges of her short-trimmed nails into the space. If she could just make the gap wide enough to get a good grip, then maybe...
Maybe it was a hopeless endeavor and she should just sit back down on the couch and wait for the twins to come back. If they could come back. For all she knew they were sitting in the brig. Which brought her full circle to the issue at hand. She needed to get out.
"No one likes a quitter, Amy," she reminded herself. Pressing her palms back onto the door's surface, she pushed as hard as she could. She grunted with the strain, hearing the door creak on its track as it shifted minutely against her assault. She relented, sweat beginning to bead on her brow as she leaned against the door to catch her breath. She took a moment to gather her strength before once again trying to wedge her fingers into the gap between the door and its framing.
Surprisingly, she found she was able to squash her fingers in up to the second knuckle. She cheered mentally at her accomplishment before schooling her face into a mask of grim determination. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her grip the best she could and, balancing on her left foot, propped her right up against the door frame for added leverage. She didn't need to open the door completely, she just needed a space big enough to shimmy through.
In her head, she counted. One. Two. Three.
She pulled with all her strength while at the same time pushing with her leg. The door groaned in protest. Her now sweaty hands slipped slightly, forcing her to stop, wipe them on her pants, and readjust her hold before trying again. She pulled/pushed, feeling the door move slightly. A quarter of an inch. Half an inch. Now she was getting somewhere. She paused, once again wiping her hands and gearing up to try again. She assumed the position, getting ready to have another go at it, when the door was suddenly flung back on its track, slamming into the pocket with a solid clang.
"Shit," Amy cursed as the door was ripped from her grip and she struggled to remain standing upright on one foot. She flailed, trying to regain her balance but it was too late. She toppled backwards, landing solidly on her tailbone with a painful, "Oof!"
A gruff voice asked, "What were you doing shut in there by yourself?"
It took Amy a brief moment to get her bearings. As she rolled onto her hands and knees to gingerly push herself off the floor, wincing as she did so, she became aware of the large shadow looming over her. She tilted her head back, more than a little surprised to see Ironhide glowering down at her with a look of consternation on his face. She carefully rose to her feet and dusted off the back of her pants, noting the ache at the base of her spine. She was definitely going to be sore tomorrow.
"It, uh..." she shrugged, giving the mech an embarrassed half smile. "It was an accident. The twins got into some trouble and Prowl came and...yeah..."
"Right," The mech agreed. "I heard about that. Heard Sunny messed Mirage's face up pretty good. What happened?"
"Yeah," Amy frowned, her upset over the situation sparking back to life now that she was freed of her confines. "I'm, uh, not really sure..."
"Ah, well. Sorry I missed it," Ironhide continued on, looking amused and completely oblivious to the woman's mood. "There's been more than a few times I'd like to have popped that slagger in the face plates, myself."
"Right, well..." Amy huffed in incredulity as an awkward silence settled between them. She'd never really spoken to Ironhide for any longer than it took to carry out her duties. She always got the distinct impression that the mech didn't particularly care for her. Though, she couldn't recall anything she may have said or done to cause him any offense. She shuffled her feet and stuffed her hands into her pants pockets.
The mech continued to stare down at the woman.
"So...uh," she fumblingly started, trying to ease the strange tension in the air, and wishing she weren't so socially awkward. "It's good to see you're feeling better. I bet, uh, I bet you're glad to be out of the med bay, huh?"
Ironhide carefully studied the femme for a moment. She was obviously uncomfortable but, aside from that, not any different than any of the other humans he'd seen scurrying around the place so far as he could tell. He couldn't pinpoint anything special or distinct about her that would justify the sort of strange relationship she and the twins shared. Just like every other human he'd encountered, she was small and squishy, and not really impressive in his opinion. Still, despite his distaste, he recognized her attempt to be polite and so responded.
"Yeah," he finally agreed brusquely. "A little Ratchet goes a long way."
"I don't know," A fond smile came to her lips. "I kinda like Ratchet."
"I'm sure you do," Ironhide's voice had an edge to it.
Amy's smile immediately crumpled, a confused look taking its place. His gruff, sarcastic tone making her feel wary and just the slightest bit self-conscious. She asked, even though she dreaded the answer, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Hide shrugged, "Just that you seem to get on really well with people outside of your own species. Maybe a little too well."
Amy frowned, "I don't understand..."
Ironhide snorted, "Oh, I think you do."
Realization settled over Amy like a dark cloud. "You don't like me very much, do you?"
Ironhide looked a bit taken aback by the question, "The Pit makes you say that?"
Amy looked away, swallowing hard, "I've gotten pretty good at being able to tell when someone doesn't want me around. You definitely wouldn't be the first..."
"Look," Ironhide started, suddenly feeling as though he'd just kicked one of those slobbery, four-legged, baby canines humans seemed to love so much at the sight of the femme's defeated-looking expression. "It's not that I don't like you...I just don't agree with this whole interspecies thing everyone one else seems to be so on board with...it's not natural."
"I get that," Amy nodded, completely understanding, though it did sting to hear. "I truly do. I know it's weird. It's still hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes...well...most of the time, actually."
The candid admission caught the mech slightly off guard. "Is that so?"
She shook her head. "I still don't know how this happened...or why this happened. It doesn't really make any sense, does it?"
"No, it doesn't," he hesitantly agreed. However distasteful he found the whole affair, he'd never really stopped to consider how bizarre the whole thing must seem from a human perspective. The fact that the very human involved seemed to harbor misgivings of her own made him feel slightly defensive for some reason. "You're not...happy with the arrangement?"
"I didn't say that," Amy denied. "It's just..." she frowned. "Its just not what I signed up for, I guess. Ever since I got here things have been just completely insane. It's like a roller coaster you can't get off of."
Ironhide mulled that over for a moment. The small femme had piqued his curiosity. He considered the possibility that, perhaps, she wasn't the conniving organic infiltrator he'd made her out to be in his own mind, but rather was simply a victim of circumstances beyond her own control. He asked, "Would you? If you could?"
Amy blinked up at him questioningly, "Would I what?"
"Get off," he clarified.
She took a moment to carefully turn the question over in her mind. She thought of Jazz and how the mech had more or less taken her in with open arms as if she were his own, no questions asked. She never felt as though she'd belonged anywhere or to anyone but he'd gone to great lengths to make her feel as if she did. She thought of the twins and and what a prominent part of her life they'd become. Sideswipe, all laidback and easy going, a notorious tease and a flirt who wore his spark on his sleeve, a lover of action but who was also perfectly content to spend all day snuggled up together in the berth if you'd let him. Sunstreaker, frequently aloof and surly, always carefully waxed and polished to perfection, he wore a seemingly impenetrable hard exterior that, should you be fortunate enough to breach it, hid a venerable protector and provider within. Two completely different halves of the same whole that complimented each other so perfectly that it was impossible to imagine one without the other.
A fond smile came to her lips. Was it okay to secretly admit to herself that she loved them? That they made her, dare she say it...happy? She hesitated. She'd never loved anyone before...she'd never had anyone to love. She'd never been loved, for that matter. These feelings were new and exciting and, honestly, a bit frightening. The selfish part of her demanded that she hold on to them with every fiber of her being and keep them close. The rest of her, the realistic part, knew that if they hadn't been in her plan that she definitely hadn't been a part of their's either. Given a choice, she believed they deserved a shot at something better than she was, even if it meant giving them up. Wasn't that part of loving someone? Wanting only the best for them?
"Yes," she answered slowly. "I would."
"What?" Ironhide looked surprised, "Why?"
Amy shrugged, "It'd be the right thing to do. For them," she added.
"The right thing for them..." He snorted, "What would a fleshie like you know about that anyway?"
Amy got the feeling she'd somehow offended the mech. She felt the need to apologize but wasn't really sure what for. "I'm...I'm sorry?"
"Like I said," Ironhide scowled down at her. "I don't agree with this slag but," he placed a hand over his chest plates. "I know a thing or two about spark bonds and it's not something you can just turn off whenever you want to."
"R-right," Amy stuttered. She'd obviously said something that struck a chord. "I know that much from talking to Ratchet. I-I didn't mean to imply..."
"What?" Hide glared, "That you'd trade the two of them off for something closer to home given the opportunity?"
"What are you even talking about?" Amy bristled, the first inklings of anger coloring her face. "I never said that!"
Ironhide harrumphed, "That's what it sounded like to me."
"Stop putting words in my mouth! You're twisting it all around!" She stomped her foot, "I'm having a shitty afternoon and then you come along with your bad attitude, stupid hypothetical questions and start getting all pissy when I give you a hypothetical answer! Just so you know, I wouldn't ever trade either of them for anything but that doesn't mean I don't want what's best for them, so you can take all your snide comments and condescending looks and shove them straight up your exhaust pipe!"
Ironhide recoiled slightly at the outburst.
Amy stopped her rant to take a breath, her chest heaving, "You don't like the fact that I have this spark thing with the twins. I agree with you that the whole situation is weird as all hell to the casual observer and you don't like that either! What is your goddamn problem?!"
The mech stared at the woman for a long moment before bursting out in loud, booming laughter. He doubled over with it, hands on his knees as if he'd just heard the funniest joke known to man. It seemed to go on forever, his entire frame shook with it as he swiped leaking fluid from his optics with the backs of his hands.
Amy's face reddened in anger, "What are you laughing at? This isn't funny!"
Her proclamation only made him laugh that much harder.
"Forget this," she huffed, planting her hands on her hips. Amy shook her head and checked her watch, "Laugh all you want. I don't have time for this bullshit. Thanks for the door but I need to go try to find out what the hell is going on around here..."
"Wait..." Ironhide wheezed in amusement, taking a couple of lumbering steps after the woman as she turned to take off down the hall.
Amy spun on her heel, glaring back at him with narrowed eyes, "What?"
"I didn't think you had it in you," he chuckled. "As far as humans go, I guess you're not so bad, after all."
Some of her anger left her at his statement and instead her brows furrowed in confusion, "Uh, okay...?"
"Look," Hide admitted, "I understand that none of you really have much of a choice in the matter. When something is meant to be, it just...is. Nothing you can really do about it but make the best of it, I guess." The mech continued, "As much as they grind my gears, you could do a lot worse than those two slaggers. They did what they thought was right and I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same in their position. Don't be too hard on 'em but don't let them push you around, either."
Amy chewed the words over for a moment, wondering at the mech's seemingly sudden change of spark. "Yeah..." she answered finally. "I...uh, thanks."
"You're welcome." A smug look came over Ironhide's features as he watched the woman slowly turn away again and continue on her way. He stood there a moment, analyzing the interaction before a confused look settled over his own features. Had he just defended the twins to their human partner? Had he, in not so many words, expressed a reluctant acceptance of this relationship? Was he begrudgingly beginning to have the tiniest bit of respect for the even tinier femme? What was his goddamn problem?
"Primus," he shuddered. "I need to go find something to shoot. This fragging planet is making me soft."
XXXXXXXXXX
Jazz demanded, "What in the Pit did you two think you were doin'?"
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, "Handling our responsibilities."
"She doesn't deserve to be talked to or about like that," Sideswipe defended. "We did what needed to be done."
Jazz shook his head, "She doesn't deserve to be sittin' at home alone while you two are sittin' in the brig, either. Did either of ya think of that before ya went off after Mirage all half-cocked?"
Sunny snorted and crossed his arms over his chest plates.
"We're not in the brig," Sides reasoned.
"I know," Jazz looked at the pair pointedly. "Funny how that worked out for ya, huh?"
"Oh," Something clicked together in Sideswipe's processor. "That's..." he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and averted his gaze to the floor. "Thanks, Jazz..."
Sunstreaker made no comment but rumbled in agreement.
"Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you. Look," Jazz vented and shook his head, planting his hands on his hips. "You know I love that little femme. After all the slag she's been dragged through, I get wantin' to protect her. Primus knows, I do...but you're not gonna solve anything by goin' an' gettin' yourselves in trouble. This ain't somethin' you can fight your way out of."
Sunstreaker demanded, "What do you expect us to do then? Stand there with a smile on our faces while that fragger talks scrap?"
"I expect you to act like you've got some slaggin' sense," Jazz barked back. "You're intelligent mechs. Start behavin' like it!"
"We were thinking," Sideswipe insisted. "She shouldn't have to put up with that slag. Not here." He shook his head, "Not with us around to prevent it."
"I'm not happy with Mirage's behavior either," Jazz admitted. "Beatin' the scrap outta him, though, it doesn't fix anything."
Sunny smirked, "I'd be willing to bet credits that he doesn't do it again."
"You know what I mean," Jazz leveled his gaze on the yellow front liner. "Don't pretend like it ain't eatin' ya up inside. I think about it, too."
Sunstreaker's gaze hardened, "Then you should understand why we did what we did."
"I understand that ya feel guilty," Jazz vented, seemingly lost in his own thoughts for a moment before continuing. "That ya feel that there's somethin' you could have done if you'd known." He shook his head, "Takin' your frustrations out on Mirage isn't gonna change what's already been done. You know that."
Sunny ran a hand over his face plates and turned away, "She was alone on this fragging dirt ball of a planet with those cogsuckers..."
"I know," Jazz hummed in solemn agreement.
"They hurt her." He growled, "They did things to her..."
"I know," Jazz again agreed. "But, the fact of the matter is," he stressed, "we weren't here. There isn't anything any of us could have done to prevent it."
"And we'll have to live with that," Sideswipe quietly commented, a frown firmly embedded on his face. "For the rest of our lives."
Jazz asked, "Do ya hold her responsible for all the slag ya went through before ya got here?"
"No," Sides shook his head vehemently back and forth. "Why would we? None of it was her fault."
"Exactly," Jazz smirked at the mech as if he'd just made his point for him. "You're not responsible for anything that happened to her before ya met her...before you even knew she existed. She told me that herself."
"So...what?" Sunstreaker vented. "You want us to pretend it never happened?"
"No," Jazz disagreed. "What I want ya to do is realize that the two of you have an opportunity here to make tomorrow better than yesterday was. Don't throw it away bein' mad at the universe over things ya can't change. Forget about Mirage, that slagger is a lost cause anyway. Move on," he advised. "Be happy, for Primus' sake. Amy's...she's special, and I'm not just sayin' that 'cause she's mine and I'm biased. Any mech, or man for that matter, would be slaggin' lucky to have her. You two just happened to be fortunate enough to draw the winning number. Take advantage of that."
Sideswipe sighed, "I guess you're right."
"I know I'm right. And," he added, "Just so ya both know, I'm not bailin' ya out again so I suggest ya take that advice to spark. Next time, I'm leaving ya at Prowl's mercy. Is that understood?"
Sides voiced his comprehension, "Perfectly."
Jazz looked to the other twin, "Sunny?"
After a moment, Sunstreaker nodded, looking slightly more placated than he had when he'd first entered the office. "Yeah."
"Good." Jazz motioned toward the door. "Now get outta here and go take care of my scraplet. I don't wanna see either one of you for the rest of the weekend."
"You know," Sideswipe moved to follow his brother from the room but paused in the doorway, looking thoughtful as he turned back to Jazz for a moment. "You're getting pretty good at this whole creatorly advice thing."
"Thanks," Jazz grinned. "I'm still workin' on it."
XXXXXXXXXX
Sideswipe parted ways with his brother outside of the hangar. Sunny needed to relieve the watch before Prowl came looking for him and Sides just wanted to get home and try to set things right with Amy. He took off in the direction of home as if he were skating to win Olympic gold. He deftly avoided the obstacles in his way, both human and vehicular alike, covering the ground in record time. He approached the door to his and Sunny's room with a frown on his face and his spark in his throat. It was slightly open.
"Ames?" He called out, carefully sliding the door the rest of the way open. "Sweetspark?"
His optics surveyed the room's sparsely furnished interior. There wasn't really anywhere for her to hide. A feeling of apprehension settled over him and he cursed under his breath. She was gone.
"If you're looking for your human, she's gone. I let her out."
Sides turned to find Ironhide leaned up against the wall across the hall. His frown deepened, "Do you know where she went?"
The Weapons Specialist shrugged, "Pit if I know." He smirked, "but she didn't look happy. She left about twenty minutes ago."
"Right...thanks." Sideswipe scowled at the mech. He slammed the berth room door shut, wracking his processor trying to figure out where she may have gone. The barracks? The mess hall? Not wanting to get into another confrontation, he completely ignored the amused smirk on Hide's face and turned away intent on tracking the woman down and apologizing. He felt absolutely awful over the whole ordeal and prayed his Ames was in a forgiving mood.
"Slagger," he muttered as he headed back toward the exit intent on checking the two most obvious places she could have gone. On a whim, however, he veered off toward the rec/lounge area just on the off chance she may have wandered in that direction. As he neared the doorway, he could hear the chatter of the television playing inside and by the sound of it he deduced someone was in there watching a trashy daytime talk show.
"What to do when they're all looking at you, cause you're the freak of the week, cause you're on the TV..."
Bumblebee.
Sideswipe couldn't help a snort of amusement. Of all the culturally interesting phenomena Earth had to offer, the poor youngling was hooked on that slag. It couldn't be healthy. He turned and was just about to go on about his way when a soft, feminine laugh caught his attention. He stopped in his tracks, pivoting back towards the door.
Amy. He'd know her laugh anywhere.
Sucking air deep into his intakes, he released it back out slowly. He mentally prepared himself for whatever venom she decided to fling his way. He'd messed up, he knew. He deserved every bit of anger she wanted to dish out...he and Sunny both did. Steeling himself, he slipped onto the room and couldn't help the look of fondness that spread across his face.
Bee had dragged what amounted to a metal shipping crate that had been modified into something resembling a chair over in front of the television. Amy had perched herself comfortably upon what amounted to the armrest. Bee had settled down into it with a cube of energon and seemed pleased to have company to help him watch a rebroadcast episode of Maury. The two of them appeared to be completely engrossed with whatever was happening on the screen and didn't seem to notice his entry into the room.
"I never watch this stuff," Amy admitted to the scout, her chin propped up in her hands as she sat crosslegged, staring at the television. "I can't understand why anyone would want to go on these shows and put their business out there like that for the whole world to see. It's like a train wreck."
Bee nodded enthusiastically, "No I can't look away, no I can't look away..."
"Exactly." Amy chuckled softly, "I don't want to watch, but I can't help myself..."
The pair grew quiet as the next segment began.
"This is Krista's fourth time on our show," Maury announced. "She's desperately trying to figure out who fathered her sixteen month old daughter, Violet. So far, we've tested seven different men, none of whom have been a DNA match. She's back today with three more candidates with the hopes that one of them may be little Violet's daddy."
Bee's speaker's crackled to life, "Hoes, hoes, hoes, in different area codes..."
"Nice," Amy snickered at the scout's antics as she stared at the television, only half listening as the woman explained why one of this latest group of men had to be her baby's daddy. "You know, if I remember high school biology correctly, there's only like five days out of the entire month that's it's even possible for a woman to get pregnant." She did some quick math in her head and made a sound of disgust. "That means she'd have to be sleeping with an average of, at the very least, like two different men a day that week for all these guys to even qualify."
Bee listened attentively to Amy's theory before recoiling at this revelation and shaking his head, "Ooh...you so nasty!"
"I know, right?" Amy shook her head, "And I'd be willing to bet none of these three guys are the father, either. That kid looks nothing like any of them."
The scout nodded in agreement.
The pair were getting on so well and she seemed so content that Sideswipe hated to interrupt. However, his need to set things right and headed down the right track once more prompted him to move forward, "Ames?"
The pair started, Amy turning her head to find Sides standing just outside of her peripheral vision with a remorseful look on his face. "Sideswipe...?"
The mech found himself again in awe at the amazing elasticity of human expression. He wasn't sure if it was purely physiology or the fact that he felt so in tune with the woman, but he could clearly identify each and every emotion that flashed across her face in the span of a spark pulse. Surprise, curiosity, disappointment, and anger before finally settling on a mishmash of displeasure and relief. He offered her an apologetic smile and hoped for the best.
Amy blinked at him before turning back to Bee, "Sorry," she apologized. "I have to go."
The youngling made a sound of disappointment but nodded his head in understanding.
"Thanks for keeping me company," she continued, patting him gently on the arm as he helped her back to the floor. "Let me know how it turns out, okay? I'm invested in this drama," she teased. "I need to know."
Though the scout lacked a proper mouth, his optics did more than a thorough job of communicating his smile as he promised, "Anything you need, you got it..."
Amy waved over her shoulder, bidding Bumblebee goodbye she strode toward the door, sparing Sideswipe a disgruntled glance as she moved passed him and back out into the hallway.
Sides vented, "Thanks, Bee." He frowned, looking after the direction the femme had gone. "Wish me luck."
Bumblebee flashed him a thumbs up, "I love it when we fight just to make up...Funny how bad words turn to making love..."
"Here's hoping," Sideswipe responded before returning to the hall to find Amy standing leaned up against the opposite wall. She had her hands stuffed down into her pockets and was staring down at the toes of her shoes. He couldn't see her face but he could more than imagine the look of displeasure that would be burning in her eyes.
"I can't believe this," she murmured.
"Ames," Sideswipe started towards her. "Sweetspark...please don't be mad."
"Where's Sunstreaker," she asked, finally looking up and folding her arms defensively over her chest and glaring up at him, waiting for an answer. "It would save time if I could yell at the two of you together."
"He's on patrol," Sides admitted. "As punishment, Prowl doubled us up on the rotation. I relieve him at eight tonight, then we swap out tomorrow."
"Perfect," she muttered. "Just perfect."
"I'm sorry," he knelt down into a crouch to get closer to her level. "I truly am, Ames...I'm not sure what happened."
"Ratchet's spending the rest of his afternoon welding Mirage's face back together, is what happened," she grit out.
"I know, I know..." he shook his head and vented. "Can we please go back home and talk about this? Please? I can explain."
Amy stared at him for a long moment before nodding, "Fine."
Relief and trepidation in equal measures flooded Sideswipe's synapses as he followed the woman back in the direction of their quarters. Once outside the space, she waited patiently for him to open the door before stepping inside. He followed her in, shutting the door quietly behind them as he ran over in his processor what he wanted to say. Looking at her, he was again struck by how small she was in comparison and decided that this was not a conversation he wanted to have with him towering over her. He and Sunny may have been larger than her in stature, but they were definitely on equal footing where everything else was concerned.
His optics swept over the room, settling on the berth. He motioned for her to follow and gave an internal sigh of relief as she reluctantly allowed him to lift her up and settle her on the edge with her legs hanging over the side. He dropped to his knees in front of her and settled back onto his wheels. Like this, they were nearly eye to optic. He placed a hand on the berth in either side of her...to keep her from falling, he told himself.
"Ames," he started, "I'm so, so sorry. I know we messed up...I messed up."
Amy shook her head, "Why did this happen? How did this happen?"
Sides grimaced, "It's...complicated."
"Complicated?" Amy raised a brow, "Seriously?"
"Look," Sideswipe shuttered his optics and bent forward, burying his face in her lap. He moved his arms to wrap around her, hugging her close. "I'm sorry," he again apologized, his voice muffled against the fabric of her pants. "I know we were wrong but...we really were thinking of you. I swear we were."
"Well, way to show it," Amy huffed. "Seeing Mirage burst into the med bay bleeding profusely from his face really made my day. Thanks for that."
Sides cringed, pulling back to look at her, "I know it looks bad but you weren't there, you didn't hear what he said about you..."
"I don't care what he said," she argued. "It can't be any worse than anything hundreds of other people have already said about me. What you two did was entirely uncalled for!"
"We just wanted to protect you," the mech insisted. "What good are we if we can't take care of the one person in the universe that actually means something to us?"
Amy made a sound of frustration, "I don't need protecting! I certainly don't need a couple guys going around beating people up just because they said something mean about me!"
"I know you don't, but its more than that," he admitted. "It's like...like we're playing catch up. With everything that we've all been through...if we can stop anything else from hurting you, we owe you that much."
Amy sighed, feeling her anger dissipate somewhat and a twinge of affection fill its place. "Sideswipe...you two don't owe me anything. Yeah, bad things happen but none of it is your fault. That's just how it goes. It definitely isn't a reason to go out and physically assault someone, especially on my account."
We'll do better," he promised. "Please, sweetspark...this is important to us. It's important to me, having you here like this. I know Sunny feels the same even if he doesn't say it. Despite how slagging crazy this has all been, you were willing to give us a chance. No one's ever done that for us before. I don't want this one thing to mess everything up."
"Yeah, well, I guess we're all in the same boat as far as that goes." Amy took note of his tense expression and lifted her hand to press her palm against the side of his face in a soothing gesture. "What in the world am I going to do with you?"
"Forgive me," he suggested, giving her a hopeful grin. "Then let me try to make it up to you?"
Amy shook her head in disbelief, "Why are you so..."
"Handsome?" He offered, his grin widening, "Irresistibly charming?"
Amy raised a brow, "I was going to ask why you're so hard to stay mad at, but," she shrugged, "I suppose those are also valid questions."
"Life's great mysteries," he gently teased. "I guess you'll have to stick around to find out."
"Yeah," she replied, the first hint of a smile returning to her face. "I guess so."
Sideswipe gazed at her for a long moment, his spark thrumming happily at her closeness. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt content. He also felt strangely compelled. He shifted nervously, "Ames...can I tell you something?"
Amy focused her full attention on him once again, her smile fading slightly.
Sides spoke quickly before the mood could deteriorate. "It's not anything bad," he promised. "At least, I don't think so. I just...don't want you to freak out."
The corners of her mouth turned down and she sat up straighter. She placed her hand on top of his where it rested on the berth next to her. "I won't, I promise. You can tell me anything. What is it?"
"You're a beautiful person," he slowly began, "and I'm not sure what Sunny and I could have possibly done right to deserve even knowing you, let alone share our sparks with you..." he trailed off.
Amy waited patiently for him to continue, squeezing his finger in encouragement.
"I wanted to tell you that," he sucked air down deep into his intakes and let it out slowly. "I wanted to tell you that I love you. I've felt like this for a while now and...I just...can't hold it in any longer. I'm not sure what you think of it or want to do with it but, there it is. I love you, Ames."
Amy's eyes widened in both shock and surprise, "Sideswipe...I-I'm not sure what to say. No one's ever said anything like that to me before..."
The mech shook his head, looking down and away from her, "You don't have to say anything back, sweetspark. I don't want you to feel obligated or anything like that, or think that I'm just saying it to placate you because we had a fight. I just...I wanted you to know. So," he gave a self-deprecating laugh, "now you do..."
She felt her heart swell with affection and reached for him, her hands moving to glide over the smooth planes of his face. She watched his optics shutter closed under the the sensation of soft skin sliding against polished metal and it brought a smile of adoration to her lips. She was bold by no means but felt compelled to reciprocate. After all, he'd been brave enough to expose his feelings to her, risking rejection. She owed him that same courtesy, did she not? Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
Sideswipe gave a jolt of surprise before relaxing into the action and doing his best best to return her show of affection. One of his hands moved to pet her hair while the other went to her back and drew her closer. A pleased hum escaped his vocalizer and he happily took her up on the invitation she extended to deepen the kiss by carefully meeting her tongue with his glossa. Somehow, it just worked. This was exactly what he wanted. Her here with him, with the both of them. Together. Always.
After a long moment, Amy pulled away slightly, the ever-present electricity swirling in her chest had intensified, leaving her near breathless. It wasn't frightening this time, however. She found it almost exhilarating. She could taste the odd sweetness of his kiss on her lips and couldn't help but smile when Sideswipe cracked his optics open to gaze at her with a mix of curiosity and cautious optimism.
"Sweetspark?" He asked uncertainly, "Is that...are you...?"
Amy pressed her fingers to his mouth, silencing him. She swallowed hard, steeling her resolve. If he did it, she reasoned, so could she. "I love you, too," she whispered.
Sides blinked at her, as if it took a moment for him to process what she'd said. Once he had, however, a look of what can only be explained as unbridled joy spread across his face plates. "Really?" He grinned, "Do you really mean that?"
"Really," she smiled back. "I really do."
"Oh, sweetspark," he dove back in, carefully maneuvering to kiss her once more. "Primus, I love you. Say it again."
"I love you," she stated with a bit more confidence. She couldn't believe how good it felt to have it out in the open. The words rolled off her tongue much easier than she thought they would and she meant every word, "I love you..."
XXXXXXXXXX
Sunstreaker hated patrol. He hated having to slog through the filthiest parts of the island in order to ensure a secure perimeter. It always left him feeling gritty and dirty, not to mention in a foul mood. He normally looked forward to the end of his shift, to the opportunity to hit the wash racks and vent to his brother. The idea of returning to their quarters this evening, however, filled him with a sense of trepidation he couldn't ever remember feeling before. He tried to rationalize that since Sideswipe hadn't commed him in a panic that there was nothing to fear. That thought further led him to scoff at himself that he'd be afraid of a small, female organic in the first place.
He'd headed straight to the wash racks to spray off the remnants of duty. He took less time than normal to buff himself dry but chalked it up to the fact that he needed to hurry as his brother was waiting for him to take his place on patrol. He told himself that it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to bury the events of the day so that they and the Squishie could move on with their lives. It was a simple enough prospect really.
Giving himself a quick once over to ensure he hadn't overlooked any water spots, he squared his shoulders and let himself into the berth room he and his brother, and now the Squishie, shared. Upon surveying the space, he felt some of his tension dissipate. Sideswipe and Amy were settled together atop the berth. She was snuggled close in to his side as the pair of them watched something Sides had pulled up on a data pad. He reasoned that things couldn't be too bad if they were looking so cozy. Maybe he could just forget about the whole thing and pretend nothing happened.
"Hey," Sides greeted, looking up from the screen. "Sunny's home!"
"Yeah, finally," he muttered, his optics going to the femme who remained somewhat passive to his presence.
Sideswipe had given the woman a gentle squeeze before carefully extricating himself from the berth. He'd approached his brother with his normal easygoing grin to lean against the wall while Sunny emptied his subspace compartments. "Anything going on I need to know about before heading out?"
"Nah," Sunstreaker denied. "Same old boring slag as usual." He looked back to the berth to find that Amy had busied herself studying the data pad. "What about you? Are we good here?"
"Well..." Sides grin widened. "Yes and no."
Sunstreaker looked perplexed, "The frag is that supposed to mean?"
Sideswipe's optics were bright and he took on an almost dreamy expression, "I need to talk to you later. It's important but I don't want to talk about it on comm."
Right," Sunny muttered. "I'm sure it is."
"That's the good news," his brother assured.
Sunstreaker huffed in irritation, "And the bad?"
"Just so you know," Sideswipe had leaned in closer and warned him in a hushed tone as he began gathering his own gear in preparation to leave and take over the patrol. "I did my best but...she was pretty upset."
Sunstreaker heaved an exasperated sigh, "Well, what am I supposed to do?"
"I don't know," his twin had unhelpfully replied as he'd stowed his gear. "Just..." he discretely motioned toward the woman who still sat curled up on the berth, effectively ignoring the pair of them. "Kiss and make up. Please..."
"Sure," Sunny grumbled as he watched his brother turn and head back toward the berth to bid Amy farewell. "I'll do that."
"Alright, Ames," Sides had cheerfully chirped as he bent down next to where the woman sat. "I have to go."
She'd frowned, pushing the data pad to the side and turning to look at him. "Already?"
"Unfortunately," he'd vented. "But," he grinned, "I'll be here when you wake up in the morning and Sunny'll keep you company till then."
Sunstreaker had watched as Amy had nodded and cut her eyes over in his direction. He hadn't missed the way they'd slightly narrowed as if the idea of having him as company was somehow distasteful. He had his work cut out for him, apparently.
"Okay," she reluctantly agreed. "Just...be careful out there and please stay out of trouble."
"I will," Sides assured, leaning in to press his brow to her's in a show of affection. "I promise."
She drew back slightly and planted a kiss right between his optics which elicited a sound of contentment from deep within his chest. "See you soon."
"Count on it," he smiled brightly at her before finally pulling away. "Alright, kids,' he started as a means to bid them both farewell as he headed towards the door, clapping Sunny on the back as he passed. "Have a good night, behave yourselves, and I'll see you in the morning."
"Night," Sunny responded, turning his attention to Amy as the door closed silently behind behind his brother. "Squishie," he finally greeted. "How was your day?"
Her look hardened, "Better than Mirage's, apparently. How do you think it was?"
Sunstreaker vented heavily, "I didn't come home to argue with you. I've spent all fragging day driving around this Primus forsaken island and I'm tired."
She challenged, "And whose fault is that?"
And so it went.
It was clear that the woman wanted to talk about the trouble he and Sideswipe had gotten into. Sunstreaker's refusal to even acknowledge anything was wrong seemed to send her deeper into her anger. Ignoring it and hoping it goes away, apparently, wasn't the best strategy to pursue when it came to calming an upset femme as he'd soon learned. He almost wished he'd pulled Sides aside and asked what he'd done to make her behave so affectionately. He certainly wouldn't have turned down a bit of closeness if she offered. After the day he'd had, he could've used some.
As it was, however, the evening devolved quickly into stilted, tense conversation—if one could even call the short, one word answers she'd give to his questions a conversation. It came to the point that she didn't want to talk to him at all. She didn't want to finish the cheesy, old martial arts film she and Sideswipe had been watching. She wasn't hungry. She didn't want to go to the rec room. Sunstreaker found himself at a complete loss and so it came as a momentous relief when she announced she was tired and wanted to go to sleep. He hoped, perhaps in vain, that that would be the end of it and tomorrow would begin anew.
He'd found himself lying in the dark, flat on his back, and staring up at the pitted ceiling. His processor whirred along at a rapid fire pace. It was impossible to relax. His "goodnight" had gone unanswered. His berth mate remained completely quiet and still, almost unnaturally so. The silence was absolutely deafening. Sunstreaker couldn't take it anymore. There was no way he could recharge like this.
Venting, he rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. In the dim light of the berth room, he could clearly see the woman curled in on herself. She'd migrated towards Sideswipe's vacant spot, facing away from him with the blankets pooled haphazardly around her waist. He couldn't see her face to know whether or not her eyes were open but he knew without a doubt that she was just as wide awake as he was. Her breathing gave her away.
"Squishie," he rumbled in a near exasperated tone, "what are you doing over there?"
The sudden sound of the mech's voice in the quiet dark made her jump. She answered him softly, "Sleeping."
Sunny frowned. He wasn't sure what bothered him more, her continued discontent or her obvious attempt to put space between them. He'd never really cared one way or the other what a femme thought of him before, whether they were pissed off at him or not, but, as he constantly reminded himself, Amy was a special case. She wasn't just any femme, she was their femme. His processor turned over as he thought of ways to get back into her good graces. A roguish grin lifted the corner of his mouth as he remembered his brother's sage words of wisdom. Kiss and make up.
That, he could definitely do.
He made a sound of amusement, "You're a terrible liar."
Before she had a chance to protest his accusation, Amy was being pulled back across the berth by a strong, metallic hand wrapped around her hip. She slid easily across the smooth surface, only coming to a stop upon encountering a solid metal chest. The hand on her hip, wrapped around her middle, pressing her snuggly into the mass of mech behind her. Amy shivered, "What are you doing?"
"You're mad at me." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement of fact. Sunstreaker nuzzled his face plates into the woman's hair, enjoying the strange, alien softness of it as he breathed in the scent of her. "Would it help if I said I was sorry?"
Amy shook her head even as she closed her eyes, unable to help but enjoy the the comforting warmth that radiated from him. She tried to hold on to her anger and disappointment but she was finding that it was difficult to stay mad at either one of them for too long when they were this close. "Not if you don't really mean it."
"I mean it," Sunstreaker assured, enjoying the slight hitch in her breath as his attentions shifted from the softness of her hair to the smoothness of her neck. The clothes she wore to sleep were much more loose and stretchy than the uniforms she donned while on duty and so it was much easier for him to nose the fabric aside in order to press his lip plates to her shoulder for an apologetic kiss. "I am sorry. Not about Mirage," he clarified, murmuring against her skin. "He deserved it. But I am sorry for upsetting you. That was never my intention."
Amy wiggled free of his grasp and rolled to face him, her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. "So your intention was what? To knock Mirage silly just for the hell of it?"
"Not entirely," Sunny chuckled softly. "I already told you, I'm not just going to stand there while some pompous piece of scrap insults you. I'm not that kind of mech."
"You didn't have to hit him," she reasoned. "It wasn't that serious."
"It was to me," he insisted. He gently brushed away some of the hair that had fallen over her forehead. "I meant what I said...you matter. A lot. To the both of us. If you won't stick up for yourself, we will. If that means putting some rich snob back in his place, then so be it."
Disbelief in the form of a small puff of air escaped from between Amy's lips. She shook her head. "While I appreciate the thought, the last thing I need is for you to go around punching people in the face on my behalf," she reiterated again. "It doesn't help me in the slightest and it was completely uncalled for. I was seriously worried..."
Sunstreaker snorted, "I told you not to worry about Mirage. He did it to himself."
"Not about him," Amy denied. "I was worried about you and Sideswipe." Unthinking, she pressed her hand against his chest plates, feeling the warm vibration of the spark within. "I didn't know what was going on, where you were, or what was going to happen to you. All I could do was sit here and wonder. I couldn't even get out of here to see what was going on. It's the most helpless I've felt in while." She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, "I hate feeling that way."
It clicked in Sunstreaker's mind then. While they had gone off to right a perceived wrong against her, she'd been trapped in this room...alone. She'd not even been given the courtesy of knowing where they'd gone, let alone what they planned on doing. She'd been left to imagine the worst. They'd inadvertently caused her grief...the exact opposite of what they'd wanted. He frowned, gently pressing her back into the berth until she lay flat on her back. He needed to show her that wasn't what they'd wanted—not what he'd wanted. He needed to make it up to her.
"Bright spark," he murmured, moving over her and pressing his forehead to her's. It was so fragging weird. She was much, much too small and too soft in comparison to himself. It was definitely not what he was used to. He wasn't even sure if it was something he could get used to but he didn't even care any more. It wasn't the package that was important, he reminded himself for the umpteenth time, it was the contents. He was a resourceful mech. He'd make it work one way or another. The memory of the first time he'd kissed her prompted him to want to do it again. Mindful of their difference in size, he managed to maneuver his lip plates to press upon their human equivalent.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips, for the first time truly meaning it.
Amy was surprised at the sudden show of affection and sincerity in his voice. Her breath quickened and her heart took on a galloping rhythm. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she pressed them against his chest plates feeling the change in the resonance and tempo from before. She swallowed the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in her throat, managing a softly spoken, "It's...it's okay..."
"No, it's not," Sunstreaker huskily whispered back, pressing another kiss to her lips before sliding his mouth to her jaw, a larger and more easily acquired target that didn't require as much restraint and finesse on his part to pay proper attention. He nipped at the skin there, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make the femme's breath hitch, before soothing the area with a gentle swipe of his glossa. "You should never feel that way...not where we're concerned."
"So..." Amy struggled to string together a coherent thought as the mech slowly continued his path down the side of her neck to her exposed shoulder, but she eventually found her voice. "You won't do it again?"
Sunstreaker froze and lifted his head. He studied the woman for a moment before a slight smirk appeared on his lip plates. She wasn't going to just let it go. She was going to make him work for it. Then again, he did enjoy a challenge. A low chuckle rumbled out from somewhere deep in his chest, "Stubborn femme with a one-track mind..."
Amy's brows furrowed. "Hey-"
He silenced her impending protest by dipping his head back down and pressing his lips back to her's. It had the desired effect. Her words died in her throat, turning into a surprised gasp instead. He seized the opportunity to carefully probe her mouth with the tip of his glossa. Though he lamented the fact that their difference in size made it impossible for him to kiss her as he wished, it was no less pleasant and he quickly found himself lost in the experience.
He could feel her small, slender fingers scrabble against his plating, searching for something to hold on to. She managed to get a grip in the area where his clavicles would have been had he been human. Her fingers sank perfectly into the narrow groove in his armor, accidentally brushing against sensors hidden beneath his plates and causing a shudder to move through his frame. It had been much too long since he'd been touched in a way that didn't involve some form of violence and the tentative gentleness of the gesture caused him to groan in appreciation.
A small corner of his processor thought it a shame that his brother was on duty and missing out but he quickly squashed the notion. Instead, he focused on utilizing what little time he did have to himself in the most efficient manner possible. His own fingers sought out the gap in her clothing where her shirt had ridden slightly up her abdomen and slipped beneath the fabric to graze along her waist and stomach.
"So soft," he murmured, slipping down to more closely examine the newly exposed skin with his mouth and glossa. "You're so warm..."
"S-Sunstreaker..." Amy couldn't help but arch into the sensation. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips, even as her heart felt as though it was trying to beat its way right out of her chest. "You're trying to change the subject..."
"No, I'm trying to apologize, if you'll let me," the mech pressed a chaste kiss to the skin right above her belly button—yet another strange, very human attribute. "I can't promise that I won't fight for you because I will...that's not negotiable." He nuzzled against her, marveling at how she molded perfectly against him. "I can promise that I'll never intentionally hurt you. That's the best I can do. Take it or leave it."
"I...uh..." Amy stuttered. A strange, electrical sensation that had begun subtly coursing through her body and made it hard to think. Her nerves seemed to hum as if she were jacked into some sort of electrical current. It was hard to put the feeling into words. The closest thing she could liken it to was a buildup of static electricity without the zap of release. It was weird, but certainly not unenjoyable. The small part of her brain still capable of focusing on issues outside of physical sensation realized this was the closest thing she would get to a concession from the mech in regards to the topic at hand. She swallowed hard and softly replied, "I'll take it."
Sunstreaker raised his head to look at her, his optics glowing bright in the dark room, "Forgiven?"
"Yes," she confirmed, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly at the hopeful look on his face. "Forgiven."
"Thank Primus..." an almost devilish grin split his features as he moved back up the berth to maneuver his lip plates against her mouth once again. "...and thank you."
Amy bit her lip, holding in a breathy moan as the mech slipped back down her body and dived happily back into what he'd been doing. Her navel was quite fascinating, apparently. It was impressive, really, a tiny corner of her brain acknowledged—the care and control he exercised. He hovered carefully, not close enough to crush or intimidate, but enough so to create a feeling of intimacy. Despite his obvious enthusiasm for this activity, he seemed remain mindful of their differences, adjusting and modifying his actions as needed and with spectacular results. She shivered. He was so very good at this...it almost made her wonder whether or not he'd had any previous experience with humans. Given his very vocal distaste for anything organic, however, she highly doubted that was the case. Still, it didn't stop her from wondering where he was pulling his knowledge from as he worked his way back up her torso discovering and proceeding to thoroughly explore the sensitive skin at the hollow of her throat.
As much as she was enjoying his attentions, she felt like a fish out of water. She had limited experience when it came to matters of intimacy, and much of it wasn't good. She knew she was safe, though, and that was enough to keep bad memories and feelings at bay. It did little, however, to quell the notion that she was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine in her current position. Though she probably could have passably fumbled her way through such an encounter with another human being, she was completely lost concerning what Sunstreaker expected from her. Though he voiced no complaint, she was fairly certain he didn't expect her to just lie there completely stiff as a board, staring up at the ceiling, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Is something wrong?" He raised his head, looking down on her now flushed face and lifted a brow plate in question as if he'd somehow sensed her dilemma, "Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?"
"I...no." Amy shook her head, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "This is...it...it's kind of one sided...I don't have the slightest clue what I'm supposed to be doing."
"Is that all?" Sunstreaker smirked at her and bent to press a kiss to her brow. "Let me show you. Give me your hand."
Amy nodded, releasing the death grip she'd had on his chest armor and pressed her left hand into his much, much larger one. She watched with wide, curious eyes as he moved it where he wanted it.
"Here," he guided her hand to the junction of his neck and shoulder. He pressed her fingers into a gap in his armor plating. "Feel that?"
Amy moistened her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. Her heart pounded and she could have sworn there was an electrical storm brewing in her chest. She flexed her fingers and felt them skim over the velvety smooth metal hidden beneath the yellow armor. She also brushed against what felt like some kind of hose or a very thick wire. Without seeing it, she couldn't be sure. She felt Sunstreaker shudder above her as her fingertips skimmed over it once more. "This?"
He nodded in confirmation. "Grab it and pull."
She frowned even as her fingers closed around it. "What is it?"
"External tactile sensors," the mech swallowed a groan as the femme gave the bundle of filaments an experimental squeeze. "They transmit sensation from our armor...easy to access near the joints and armor seams. Depending on the type of stimulation, that can either be a really good thing or a really bad thing."
"Oh..." Amy worried her bottom lip between her teeth even as a knot of curious excitement settled into the pit of her belly. It was completely surreal, having one and a half tons of of giant, metal alien looming over you, instructing you on the sensitive parts of their anatomy. Tentatively, she gave a careful tug. "Like this?"
Almost instantaneously, the mech went rigid above her before relaxing down, a sound like a deep, throaty purr tumbled from him. His optics closed and he pressed his forehead to her's while fumbling for her other hand. "Here," he instructed, guiding her fingers beneath his chest plating, dangerously close to his spark chamber. "Touch me here."
Fascinated, Amy did as he asked. Curling her fingers, she used her blunt nails and fingertips to scratch along the front of what felt like a solid, heavy piece of impossibly smooth metal. She wasn't sure what it was but she could strongly feel the thrum of his spark right beneath her touch and just beyond her reach. Initially, it made her fingers tingle but she could feel the odd static slowly creep up her hand, beyond her wrist, into her arm, and eventually settle into her chest. The sensation reminded of when she'd been shocked, first by Sideswipe and then by Sunstreaker. Unlike those times, however, there wasn't any pain or fear. It was...almost comforting and, she embarrassedly admitted to herself, rather arousing.
"Right there," he sighed into her neck, basking in the soft touch. "Again, just like that..."
Encouraged by his reaction, she did as he requested. Timidly, she asked, "This...feels good?"
He chuckled, a sound she felt more than heard. "You have no idea."
"I think I do," she quietly murmured to herself. Mustering her courage, she slid her left hand from where it still rested within the seam of his shoulder to slip it beneath his chest plating next to her right. She pressed her palms against the metal, feeling that same staticky sensation creep up her left side, as well. It became less a feeling of electricity and more of a subtle vibration she could feel all the way down to her bones. It made her shiver and try to press closer to the mech above her.
She let her hands wander, smoothing over the surface of the object buried deep inside his chest, enjoying the sounds of enjoyment he made and the way he pressed back into her questing fingers. She mapped the shape with her fingertips, tracing the edges and mentally committing its geometry to memory. The friction of her skin moving over the cube-shaped object seemed to intensify the the sensations flowing through her. She'd never felt anything like it in her life and she couldn't contain the soft gasp of pleasure that slipped from between her lips as a particularly strong jolt of energy moved through her.
"Keep doing that," Sunstreaker encouraged with a ragged voice. One of his hands had fisted itself in her hair, crushing the silky strands between his fingers, the other kept him propped safely over her. "Don't stop."
Amy could only nod, she didn't trust herself to speak. She had no intention of stopping, not now. She needed something. To get closer to whatever this was that was happening. The need was almost obsessive in its intensity. It was the only thing that mattered at the moment. Almost as if it had read her mind, the feeling swelled until that particular vibratory frequency was the only thing she was aware of. It was everywhere. It was all around her. It was inside of her...or maybe she was inside it. She couldn't tell anymore. It was familiar, yet strange. Like finally getting to see up close something she'd only been able to gaze at from afar.
There was a push/pull feeling, almost the same as one would experience trying to force two repelling magnets together, but then there seemed to be a polarity shift and everything suddenly snapped together with enough force that it drove the breath from her lungs. She was beyond herself, she realized with a start. That weird feeling of being detached from her body she'd been experiencing intermittently returned with a vengeance. Her physical self remained perfectly aware of what was happening but felt far, far away. Whatever this was, it transcended the body. This energy was alive, she realized. It was a living, intelligent, feeling entity and she could feel its essence entangled completely with her own in a manner that felt much too intimate and personal to even be possible.
"Primus," Sunstreaker murmured, opening his optics to gaze down on the woman, a look of wonderment on his face. His expression suggested that he was, at the very least, experiencing something similar. "Tell me you feel that."
"Y-yes, I do..." Amy stuttered and blinked up at him, her entire body now awash in the peculiar, yet pleasurable sensation. Voice trembling, she asked, "What...what is that?"
"Us, bright spark," he rumbled, his gaze burning back into her own. "That's us..."
End of Chapter 43
Sunny maybe a little starved for affection underneath it all? I dunno... What do you think?
