Barricade was irritated. He was surprised by the gall the fleshy dared to show after he found out that the Cybertronian was alive, and then the next day when he didn't appear at the time he had ordered him to. He could easily kill the impudent fleshy and he was positive that the annoying creature knew that. So the fact that the fleshy acted that way threw his processor for a loop.
He sat there in silence up until noon, waiting as patiently as he could for the organic, before deciding that the insect deserved to be scared a bit for making him wait. He changed into his bipedal form, setting himself down to wait. He didn't have to wait long until he could hear the organic making it's way to where he had found the Cybertonian. Using his advanced systems he estimated just where the tiny little creature would come through the shrubbery, and leaned down just enough so his face would be in the correct area.
"You're late!" he boomed, just as the fleshy came through and stopped in shock at seeing him. That shock didn't last long at all.
"That is so cool! You're huge! Eyes, oops I mean optics, are red, very nice touch. Makes you look even more badass. Not that you needed it, but I think the Autobot blue would definitely take your badass-ness down half a notch. Face is very pointy. Ouch looking." Miles rambled, grinning up at the shocked Decepticon.
The teen rocked back and forth on his heels a bit, head tilted to get a better look. Barricade sat back just to scan the organic for what had to be about the fiftieth time, watching as Miles swung his back pack on to the ground and stepped closer to the Decepticon. He didn't feel as surprised as he should by the organic's reaction, finding that the fleshy acting in a surprising manner wasn't actually surprising at all. If he had acted the way Barricade had expected him to then he probably would have been more surprised. Then again, if he had acted anything like Barricade had ever expected him to, he wouldn't even be here today.
He wondered if Starscream had hit him hard enough to make his processor glitch. There was just no way that he was capable of getting used to the organic in front of him that quickly; nor was it like he was actually happy to see the organic return to him. But as much as he wanted to ignore it, he knew why. Being abandoned by his own kind and having no friendly face to turn to, not even a single mech who would even come near him without bearing their weapons, it wasn't how he wanted to live. He wasn't a hugely sociable mech, but those he did get used to he wanted to stay around. Frenzy, his Race Track Patrol team, Brawl and Blackout... He was a mech of habit and he loathed for that to change. Now there was no habit to fall on to, no certainty. So it left him looking to the only thing he could attach himself to.
Miles cracked his fingers, standing near one of Barricade's feet. He took a moment to look the Decepticon over with curious eyes, circling around him to examine his back. He guessed that if Barricade bothered to stand up he'd be about seventeen feet tall, but how wide he'd be Miles had no idea. From the looks of it he didn't think a Cybertronian could be fat, but he certainly wasn't going to ask or even bring the matter of weight up. He didn't want to become a pancake just to find out that Cybertonian mechs didn't like talking about their weight. He noted how the finger like appendages ended in claws and didn't spend much time thinking what Barricade could have used them for.
"So, whatcha want me to do, Barry? I don't have long, gotta get home and do my homework." Miles came to a stop in front of the mech, craning his neck to look up at him.
Barricade glared down at the fleshy, "My name is Barricade, fleshling."
"And my name is Miles," Miles replied easily, not fazed by the glare in the least. "Not fleshling, fleshy, human, insect, squishy, soon-to-be-pancake, or whatever else you might call me."
"Fine, human designated as Miles, you will be able to get at even more under my armor this way. Tomorrow, perhaps, you can help me with some dents." Barricade made it sound like it was something Miles should be honored to do.
Miles let out an exasperated sigh, happy that his name was at least somewhere in there. When a large and clawed servo suddenly wrapped around him he let out a squeak that he'd later be embarrassed about, unused to the foreign feeling of something so large and hard wrapping around him. It was even worse when Barricade just lifted him up, his feet dangling out of the Decepticon's grasp and the feeling of just how small he was to the 'con unnerving him.
Barricade let him squirm for a moment, allowing the organic to adjust in his grip enough to free his arms, and then drew him up close to his face, letting his vents blow air out onto him. The teen took this as a sign that the mech wouldn't mind being touched, and he examined the face plates curiously, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch one of the cheek ridges. When Barricade didn't pull him away he allowed his hands to explore a bit, enjoying the feel of the smooth alien metal even when he did run across one of the sharp edges.
"Hmm," Barricade drawled thoughtfully, "I'm not as disgusted as I thought I would be. I actually find your touch tolerable."
The mech actually sounded surprised, and Miles let out a snort. As interesting as exploring what the 'con felt like was, it just didn't exactly warm his heart to be insulted in such a way.
"Way to kill the mood man. I'd 'preciate it if you stopped man handling me and put me down." Miles complained, squirming in Barricade's grip to emphasize his point.
Making a small grunt of confirmation, Barricade laid down on his back, setting Miles on his chest plates. Once the teenager steadied himself, the Decepticon instructed him on a few things to do, getting Miles to give him the Cybertronian equivalent of a massage on tense or overworked muscles.
He let the tiny creature work as he ran diagnostic scans on himself, searching for anything else that might need attended to quickly. Next he ran a scan of the area, making sure no stupid Autobots were out and about anywhere near to him. He might be getting used to the organic and find him tolerable, but that didn't mean he wouldn't get a kick out of scaring the tiny creature. His first attempt had been foiled, and he hardly counted startling the fleshy when he grabbed him. He had yet to tell the fleshy of their holoforms, and quietly activated his to appear behind Miles.
Barricade's holoform was male, and tall, towering over Miles by about a foot. He already had a set image, but the organic mech was the default form for all the Decepticons, and he didn't much feel like using that one anymore. Instead he opted to go with lighter, but still dark, brown hair and mustache-less. He found a random face on the internet from an obituary clipping, manipulating the nanites just how he wanted them until he looked how he wanted. He kept it simple with red eyes and a police uniform to match his alt mode.
Smirking to himself, he watched the teen work diligently on him for a moment. Then he reached out and grabbed Miles' arm, laughing when the teen jumped and nearly lost his balance, the only thing keeping him in place being Barricade's grip on his arm.
"And here I was hoping for another one of your oh so manly squeaks," Barricade taunted, a smirk still on the holoform's face.
"Dude! Fuck you." Miles huffed, glaring at Barricade, before jerking his arm out of the Decepticon's grasp. "I think you have way too much time on your hands—servos, whatever—if you get your jollies by playing scare the human. Maybe try out some movies or TV shows on the 'net."
"I hardly need to if you're here to provide me entertainment, fleshling." Barricade replied haughtily.
"I do have school," Miles reminded him, "And a family. I'd say a life in general, but that's already covered by school and family. There are some days I might not be here at all to 'entertain' you, like if I get sick or my mom kidnaps me for private time. And my name, remember?"
Barricade gave that some thought, and deciding that Miles might have a point, he growled. "You're lucky you're at least a little right, flesh—Miles. I still need to lay low for a couple of weeks, make sure the Autodolts think I'm disposed of before I make a break for it. As much as I hate to see what you pathetic things come up with, I can't exactly do anything to entertain myself without drawing attention..."
Miles nodded at whatever the Decepticon was saying, feeling proud of himself for having succeeded in curbing any further attempts at scaring him to death. By now the teen was beginning to think Barricade always talked with a growl. Miles went back to work on the 'con when he got a pointed look, asking what exactly the human looking and feeling guy had been. Once Barricade finished explaining about holograms and holoforms, Miles suggested the stupidest movie he could think of to get the 'con started.
A few hours later, Barricade had already accused Miles of sending him to the stupidest, most likely to kill brain cells, thing he could think of. He asked what movies and shows the teen really liked, and doing a quick search about their contents, was satisfied about his answer, resolving to give some of them a try later. Miles gingerly climbed off of Barricade, going and picking up his backpack. After spending so long on hard metal his legs ached, but he figured complaining wasn't the best way to get on the mech's good side. He paused in thought, and turned to the Decepticon with a questioning look.
"If I can't come for some reason, how am I supposed to tell you?" he asked, slinging his backpack onto one shoulder.
"Give me your phone," Barricade ordered, letting his holoform reappear and holding out a hand to receive the device.
Hesitating for only a moment, Miles took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to him. He watched as Barricade used the holoform to mess with his phone. He assumed he was just adding his contact information, but then back tracked to wonder how the Decepticon could even have something for Miles to contact him by. He shook his head to clear it of the thought, deciding it best to not think of and just accept it. He took his phone back and scrolled through the contacts, finally finding one that he was certain was Barricade. After all, Officer Barry Cade was kind of a dead giveaway. He changed the contact to Officer Barry Ticon, that way if for whatever reason Sam, Mikaela, or one of the Autobots got a hold of his phone they wouldn't be able to guess so easily who the contact was. At least that was what he hoped.
"Alright, goodbye then, Barry!" Miles smirked up at the 'con before beating a hasty retreat behind some bushes. He laughed when he heard Barricade growl in frustration, following the trail back to the road that would eventually lead him to his house.
The next day when the teen finally finished school and wandered down to the forest, Barricade was already in his bipedal mode and seemed to be working on his legs. Miles moved forward for a closer look, the mech hardly glancing at him at all. He climbed up on to the opposite leg so he could peer at the inside of Barricade's leg better, recognizing similar looking wires and metallic joints to what he had noticed in the mech's chasis. But this time the mech had something that looked eerily reminiscent to a saw out, his servos apparently able to transform into different things, and the teen couldn't help but wonder just where Barricade had been hiding a blade that big.
"What are you doing?" Miles asked after a moment.
"Some of the struts in my ped are broken, so I'm cutting through some wires to access a medical override panel there to turn off the sensors. My processor only allows me to do so for so long without it coming back anew to bother me," Barricade explained.
Miles pretended to understand what the Decepticon was talking about, just settling himself back down on Barricade's leg. That was when his cell phone rang loudly, the tune telling him automatically that it was his mother.
"Hey, Ma." Miles greeted as soon as he picked up, wondering if his mom could hear the buzzing of Barricade's saw in the background, and if she did what she'd assume it to be. "Mason? No, I don't know when I'll be back. Just drop him with Judy and I can get him from there if you'll be gone for the night. Yeah, love you too. I'll see you tomorrow then, bye."
The teen hung up his phone, glancing up to see red optics focused on him. They immediately returned to paying attention to the leg the 'con was working on, as if he could pretend he hadn't been caught watching. Miles did his best not to roll his eyes or snort and aggravate the mech further. He knew that the Decepticon had to be going through a rough patch. Essentially abandoned by his own faction, left beaten and bloody to lick his own wounds from the Autobots, and now he only had an organic for company. In part they were more ahead and more behind then the teen wanted; he realized that Barricade had issues showing any physical interest in him even when it was obvious there was a question he wanted to ask, and he had no problem answering any of the teen's queries.
It looked like he was going to have to train Barricade, push the mech into being more open, but what was the easiest way?
"Sorry about that," Miles decided to fake apologize. If he explained this way then the Decepticon didn't have to wonder, let alone ask. "My dad's got a surprise business dinner and they don't know how long they'll be gone, and since I wasn't sure how long I'll be here and since they think I'm at a friend's house, they're leaving our dog, a pet, with the Witwicky family until I can pick him up."
He got nothing more than a grunt for his efforts, but it was enough to satisfy him. Miles wouldn't lie to himself and say he didn't talk a lot, but he was talking more than normal with Barricade. He just hoped it was helping more than hindering, because telling the 'con about Mason had given him an idea, which meant more talking. He started to ramble on about maybe bringing the Mastiff to see the 'con. Then he informed Barricade about how well trained the canine was, and everything they'd gone through to train him and how effective it had been.
By the end of the night Miles would be pleased to see that the 'con had picked up on some of what he had said. He'd gotten asked to do things politely twice now, and had only been referred to as a stupid organic about ten more times. Of course he had to play it up a bit, because being nice and referring to him by his actual name sans any insult didn't mean that he was going to do whatever someone, or robot, asked of him, but for Barricade he did his best to be as cooperative as possible.