Wayward Phrases

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Chapter 3: Making Noise

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Spike came into Bumblebee's quarters quietly, expecting to find him and Carly asleep at the hour. What he wasn't expecting was finding Carly draped in slumber atop Bumblebee's chestplates, the girl completely nude, unless one counted the blanket covering her from the thighs down. The room felt unusually warm.

He was both astounded and titillated, and his thoughts began racing. Finding Carly sprawled out without a stitch on was exciting, but why was she in that state? She always wore pajamas. And why atop Bumblebee? Honestly, it looked as if they'd fallen asleep after having sex.

And whose feet were those hanging off the end of the berth? As his eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the room, it had become obvious there were two mechs in the berth, the other one lying perpendicularly, mostly covered up by Bumblebee's canvas blanket. A sick feeling coiled through his stomach, and felt as if he'd walked in on something he shouldn't and didn't really want to see.

And then Spike grasped his dilemma. Should he wake the three and start asking questions? Surely there was a good explanation that didn't involve some uncomfortable answer. These guys were robots. They didn't have sex. Or did they? Some did seem to be involved romantically with each other. Or should he slip away quietly and let things sort themselves out before he commed and announced he was returning earlier than expected. He could then officially return to the room and see what he should be seeing.

Suddenly a comm pinged loudly and the unknown mech stirred, followed by Bumblebee and Carly. "Yeah? Red? Mirage is back? Prowl's office?"

Spike cringed. Those were Jazz's feet.

Meanwhile Bumblebee had sat up slightly, Carly with him, and he was kissing her softly, but quite passionately, his black hands caressing her skin with ever such grace.

Spike trembled. This was definitely wrong.

"He's here with me," Jazz continued. "Sure. We'll be there in about ten minutes."

Bumblebee gave a moping groan on hearing Jazz's half of the conversation.

"Make that twenty minutes, Red. Someone is insisting on a good-morning cuddle," he laughed. And then he sat up and threw off the sheet. "Mirage is back early and Prowl's called a meeting," Jazz told Bumblebee.

"I guess that means Spike and Sparkplug will be home as well. You'd better get some clothes on, dear," Bumblebee said to Carly with obvious concern.

Jazz stretched toward the others and kissed Carly between her shoulder blades, Carly closing her eyes and leaning back against the mech's face. "Don't want Spike to catch ya' out of your armor."

"Too late..." came the voice from across the room.

Three heads whipped about and spotted Spike in the shadows. Carly yanked the blanket up over herself.

"Spike!" Carly gasped. "You're home early."

He stepped forward, the three on the berth all looking aghast at being caught by the boy.

"Yes, I'm home. And... and..."

"Yeah..." drawled Bumblebee. "I guess this looks pretty bad."

"It does. You look like... well. You were kissing her... And..." He could not get the words out.

Jazz hopped off of the berth. "It should, because that's exactly what was going on," he admitted. And then he crouched down, gave Spike one of his famous wicked grins, and patted the boy on the shoulder. "You are so going to love reaching eighteen years old." And then he moved for the door. "See you in Prowl's office in twenty minutes," he called cheerily to Bumblebee. "I'm headed for the racks first. Let me know if I need to do any damage control." And with that he was out the door.

Bumblebee slapped a hand over his face, and Carly was hoping that the blanket would somehow absorb her or teleport her away. This was bad.

"Jazz was teasing, wasn't he? Please tell me he was just joking around," Spike coughed.

Bumblebee shook his head. "He wasn't kidding."

Spike made something of a noise between a choke and a sob and a sniffle. And with a definite sob he bolted from the room.

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Carly moved in permanently with Ironhide that day not long after Spike came in, grabbed his things, and declared that he never wanted to see her or Bumblebee again, despite Bumblebee trying to explain the situation, Spike moved in with Hound and Trailbreaker four doors down.

Sparkplug, having soon heard about some drama between Spike and Carly but not getting an answer from his son, was at a loss as to what had split up the pair, until he comm'ed Bumblebee a few days later and demanded that the mech tell him. Bumblebee, still quite upset over the matter, came in and told Sparkplug everything as the human worked at his bench.

"A what relationship? With Ironhide?" He seemed more concerned with Carly dating a much, much older man and Ironhide's possibly taking advantage of her than he was about his son's loss. The fact that she was involved with a robot, or three, didn't even seem to phase him.

Bumblebee sighed. "It's a normal thing for us. I was in that sort of a relationship twice. It's not bad for a younger person. It's sorta like having a romance teacher."

"He's not hurting her though, is he?"

"Of course not."

He looked up from the circuit conduit he was rewiring for Ratchet. "And you're not hurting her either."

"Of course not," Bumblebee said, astounded that Sparkplug would even think he or the others might be less than gentle with the human girl. The four of them had all been extra careful with her delicate organic frame. The extent of any injuries she'd received over the past four months were a few scratches and a few minor burns, and those could all be directly tied to her unbridled enthusiasm in reaching into their frames.

Sparkplug turned back to his work. "Well in that case it's her choice. I mean, she's always been attracted to you guys. And I know that she and Spike have been more of friends than of lovers. I suppose if he were older things would be different." He withdrew the pliers from the circuits and leaned onto the conduit. "Really I wondered why they ever got together in the first place. I guess it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

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And while Sparkplug may have been rational about the breakup, Spike handled it with far less grace. He shot angry glances at Carly whenever he encountered her. Whenever Bumblebee tried to talk to him, he refused to listen and stormed off, usually muttering something about a backstabbing. Jazz and Ironhide got the same treatment. Only First Aid was spared—his name never having been brought into the affair.

Spike's frustration came to a head when late one night in the rec-room he caught Carly behaving a little too familiarly with Ironhide for a public situation.

"Dad! I want to move out of the Ark! I can't stand being here any more," he demanded the next morning. Thankfully neither Brawn or Huffer, his father's roommates, were around.

Sparkplug looked up from his coffee and newspaper. "This is about Carly, isn't it?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Of course it's about Carly. She was making out on the couch with Ironhide in the rec-room last night. And who knows what she was groping under his armor. I couldn't see her hands. And earlier yesterday she and Jazz were flirting, and he was even singing to her. And I keep seeing her going into Ironhide's or Bumblebee's quarters and it's disgusting what she does with them in there. At least what I think they're doing."

Sparkplug tried not to laugh. As amusing as it was this was serious business for a sixteen-year old. Instead he sipped his coffee thoughtfully and then fixed his eyes on his son. "Why are you so jealous over her? What's changed?"

"Dad! Duh! My girlfriend was cheating on me with my best friend. But she's also been sleeping with two other guys that I used to think of as friends. And they're not even human, and not even her size! Suddenly she's Miss Popular around here, but only because she's being all slutty."

"Spike. I can see why you think that. And it sure looks that way."

"Looks? It is that way."

Sparkplug set aside his newspaper and bid his son to sit.

The teenager plopped down heavily and lay his arms on the table, placing his head atop them. "How could she do this to me?" he moaned.

"Spike, I talked to Brawn and Huffer about this, and to Ratchet, and Wheeljack, and Jazz too."

Spike groaned. "Great... I'm sure everybody knows now."

"They already did. And I've learned a whole lot more than I ever wanted to know about Cybertronian relationships and sex, but I figured that I should understand this. That's what the government is paying me to do here. To try to understand."

"Yeah well you can tell the government that the Autobots are a bunch of girlfriend-stealing jerks."

Sparkplug allowed himself a little chuckle. "According to the Cybertronian way of things, Ironhide and the others were helping out your relationship with Carly, knowing that you were too young yet for her."

"What? Helping? That's a load of slag!"

Sparkplug smiled at his son's use of Cybertronian phrasings, the boy often preferring them over those of his own people. "They felt they were, even knowing of the cultural difference. They see this as keeping her happy and in the fold until you're ready for her."

"How is that 'helping?' Hmmm?"

"Look, you and Carly decided to wait a few years before... getting intimate. I'm proud of you for that. And of her. It's a smart decision. But she's much older, and well... older people like sharing a bed." Sparkplug hoped he wasn't sounding as awkward as this felt to be saying. "Ironhide, noticing that she was older, wanted to help out, and... to basically get her ready for you when you were older yourself."

Spike squeezed his eyes shut. "This is just weird. It's just weird."

"It's not for them. Apparently this is a very normal sort of relationship on Cybertron. They don't always see things the way we do."

"And is her being a slut normal too? She's sleeping with three different guys. C'mon."

"According to Ratchet, this relationship is quite normal for their culture. And three is by no means considered excessive." He withheld the fact that Ratchet had corrected him on the number, revealing that his warm-hearted Protectobot assistant sometimes took Carly to his berth as well.

"How can that be normal?"

"Spike. Look at it. They're giant alien robots from another planet, who have lived millions of years. They've had a culture and civilization that's been around since long before we even came down out of the trees, so to speak. Their version of normal isn't going to be the same as ours."

"And their version of normal includes their girlfriends sleeping with anyone they want to?!" he asked challengingly.

"They believe that having multiple relationships is a good thing. Especially for someone who's young, and especially for there to be an older partner looking after the younger and keeping things calm and safe."

"But what about me! They didn't tell me this or even ask if it was okay!"

"Because they didn't expect you to understand. And obviously you didn't."

Defeated, Spike slumped down on the table again. "She was my girlfriend first..." he moaned dejectedly.

"And still would be, if you hadn't broken up with her. They were expecting that when you reached eighteen, that everything would proceed as you and Carly had planned."

"Well I guess that won't be happening. She's got three giant robot boyfriends instead."

Sparkplug put his hand atop his son's. "Spike, it still can happen, but only if you're willing to accept that she's gone over to their way of doing things. And you'd have to be willing to share her."

"Ugh... that's disgusting."

"I know. Sex always is disgusting when you get down to it." Sparkplug patted the hand he held. "Give it some thought. Decide how you want to handle this. Decide which cultural approach you want to take. I'm okay with either. And to answer your original demand, no, we're not moving out. The government's paying me well enough to hang out here and write reports. So either you have to make peace with Carly, or you have to just deal with having your ex-girlfriend under the same roof. You know they're paying her to be here as well."

"Jeeze!" Spike groaned and buried his face in his arms again.

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"Wayward Phrases" concludes in Chapter 4: "Making Peace"

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Transformers and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Hasbro and Takara Tomy. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.