Combustion Chapter 2, a transformers/beast wars fanfic

Combustion

Wow! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter for this story. I was never planning on making it a one off, so there will be a couple more chapters yet. I'm full of ideas – you know, now that I can look at myself in the mirror again for considering this pairing :)

Nah, kidding!

Anyway, without further ado (is that how you spell it), here's

Chapter 2

Sam stared around at the people and cars crowded everywhere in the parking lot beside the raceway, nervous and uncomfortable. He'd planned it to be the most perfect day, and for a while it had been. The sun had shone down without fail, not even a hint of a cloud to mar the afternoon. It had been just about the spot on temperature, warm enough to enjoy, but cool enough not to sweat. In the distance, the speedway stretched off away from the entry, the black asphalt like a sinuous snake curving around the grass and gravel. But for Sam the day had changed things in ways he didn't even realise yet. Even looking back at their race mere hours ago was like feeling it anew, and his palm unconsciously tensed on the smooth yellow bonnet. The experience was like a nuclear blast in his mind, sweeping all before it in a wave, which more and more was changing the landscape of Sam Witwicky into something completely new.

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The queue of cars ahead of them, awaiting their turn on the track, had seemed endless as the two of them sat there under the midday sun. The anticipation had been like a living thing between them, Sam for his first chance to really drive beyond suburban commuting, and B to experience his driver. As those before them pulled in after their turn they seemed exhilarated, lifted, like the cares of the world had been momentarily taken off their shoulders, and Sam couldn't wait to feel that.

They had taken turns driving to start with, B giving him tips through an occasional correction of the wheel or adjustment of the pedals as their speed gradually increased. The outside world had flown past in a blur as the two of them released their frustrations into the glorious sensation of speed and isolation. They were the only car on the track, each person that had turned up being given six laps to let loose. There would be no actual competition with multiple cars on the raceway, the risk of injury and destruction was too great with unexperienced drivers. The winner would be determined on a best time basis, so they had the entire circuit completely to themselves. Sam grinned like an idiot, revelling in the sensation, so completely different to driving down a road or street. The thrum of the engine filled the entire cabin like a heartbeat, the vibrations travelling through the floor into his feet and then up the chair, shooting over his spine. His body shivered, clutched in the warm embrace of Bumblebee's interior, a sense of anticipation building within him that seemed unrelated to the track ahead of them.

His hands held the wheel in a gentle embrace, almost caressing the leather as he turned back and forth. It was an intimate moment, man and machine, testing themselves and each other with nothing around to interfere or restrain them. He couldn't think of a single other place or time that he would possibly want to be right then, surrounded by friendship that meant more than lunches and movies. Bumblebee seemed to feel the same way, as the longer they continued around the course the deeper and throatier the engine tone became, sinking to a deep murmur that brought to mind a lover's seductive tone. He unconsciously licked his lips at the thought, sinking back into the warm leather that almost seemed to hold him. Around him, the air in the cabin slowly became charged, a smothering, cloying closeness that threatened both to suffocate and free him at the same time. It almost seemed that communication between them ceased to be necessary then, man and machine almost of one being.

The grin froze on his face, then slowly slipped as somewhere in the back of Sam's mind a voice screamed that something was going wrong; that something was happening that wasn't what it should be; but it was drowned out by the roar of the engine that suddenly seemed to have somehow seeped right down to his bones. Previously gentle hands were now white knuckled, clenched around the wheel in a death grip, more a desperate attempt to hold onto some part of himself than as an aid to their driving. He didn't understand what was happening as he felt Bumblebee around him, but the sensation was driving him mad. A small moan escaped him, half pleasure, half terror, as they rounded into the final stretch. He didn't know what would happen if the nerve dissolving bliss within him reached completion, and it occurred to him then that even had he really wanted to, he couldn't do anything to stop it. B filled every part of him, smell, sound, sight, even tasting him in the air. The voice cried out to him again, much weaker this time, reminding him of Mikaela and his family, questioning exactly what was happening and what it would mean when it was over.

He couldn't breathe anymore, the crushing weight of being so completely overwhelmed by another being leaving him without control of his own body. His heart was clawing at his chest like a rabid tiger, sharp stabs of pain that left him hollow and empty, reminding him of how he'd felt as he'd watched B dragged away, powerless to resist. It almost felt like he was being carved out on the inside, becoming an empty vessel, waiting for his companion to fill him. And somewhere within Bumblebee he felt something respond to that, a new throbbing beginning, one not remotely associated with the redlining engine. This one was much slower, much deeper within the robot, a throbbing more felt in his mind than through his skin. It seemed to shine behind his eyes, with a brilliance that would have been blinding, had the vision not existed solely in his mind. Spark. The word resonated in him to the same tune as the glow. Bumblebee's heart, his very soul.The light grew stronger as he recognised it, the brightness threatening to burn his mind to ashes. He could almost feel tentative touches of something brushing inside as the light began to engulf him. He struggled and gave in at the same time, fighting against it with every ounce of his being and falling reverently down before it in supplication. His lungs burned in his chest like coals, refusing to take the breath they so desperately needed, while his heart beat an irregular and spasmodic pulse. His body was like stone to him, unmoving and unresponsive, an empty shell that simply held his mind in place, eyes and mouth thrown wide in ecstasy and pain. He felt himself dieing in that moment, as the light grew closer, his heart straining beyond the point the muscle could tolerate, desperately trying to feed his system oxygen that wasn't there. He couldn't stop it, couldn't explain it, and part of him didn't want to. He could feel darkness approaching him, even with the brilliance shining in his mind, and a tear leaked out, sliding down his right cheek until he tasted a salty wetness on his lips. It hung there for a brief moment, suspended then dropped onto the leather of the seat, and it suddenly seemed that Bumblebee realised something was wrong.

The frantic, almost desperate, pace of the engine abruptly stuttered, revving wildly up and down the spectrum. The glow vanished in a flash, his eyes trying to adjust first to the light that hadn't existed, then to the real light that did. The steering wheel shuddered in his grasp, then spun uncontrollably, throwing his hands off in the process. He drew in a gasping breath that arched his chest away from the seat as his hands separated, his lungs screaming at him for oxygen. The squeal of tyres penetrated the interior of his little world as the erratic steering sent them into a slide through the gravel beside the track, then into the pit area. Even as the force pulled him hard against his seat belt, he felt the AC blast to full, fresh cool air hitting him directly in the face, the cloying, drowning sensation blowing away like a fog. As control slowly seemed to return to him he felt more tears escaping down his face and he shook uncontrollably. His breathing was laboured and his heart was beating almost the same speed as B's engine.

When they finally squealed to a halt he scrabbled desperately to reach for the door handle, but it swung open like it was spring loaded before he could lay a finger on it. He staggered out, hand grabbing onto the roof for support as the door very gently closed behind him. In spite of his efforts, Sam felt his legs give out anyway, and he dropped like a stone to the hard asphalt. His knees connected first with the rough surface, but before his head could make contact, a subtle noise and a shift from beside him resulted in part of the front fender catching his chest, lowering him gently down and rolling him onto his back. His body wouldn't stop shaking, and the bright sun above him was blinding to his eyes, reminding him painfully of another light. He squeezed his eyes shut, so desperate to block it out that he saw spots. He could feel concern radiating from Bumblebee like heat, and he managed to pull enough energy to lift a hand and casually rest it on the fender, that light touch revealing that B was vibrating like a taut guitar string. The wheel turned minutely forward, nuzzling the fender into his hand with something between concern and apology. The movement caused a momentary panic and his hand shot away as though burned. Sam didn't know what exactly had happened out on the track between them, but he knew what the cause of it had been, even if he wasn't ready to admit what it was. He couldn't lay all the blame solely with his… friend? Partner? Nevertheless it took a long time for his tears to finally stop, and an even longer time before he could touch the yellow paint again.

An uncommon silence descended over the two of them as the afternoon wore on, Bumblebee not even idling, Sam motionless on the ground beside him. Eventually however the sounds of the world around them made it back into Sam's ears, bringing his attention to the fact that the sun was now substantially lower in the sky. He stood up slowly, hand pausing briefly in fear and indecision, before using B's hood as a support, a questioning, slightly scared buzz permeating through the metal. He managed to give his friend a somewhat watery smile of reassurance. The edges of his mouth wavered a little however, as they peered into the dark interior that had always seemed so warm and inviting to him before.

The door beside him opened with a click, a silent invitation to leave this place, and he carefully climbed inside. The pungent odour of his fear and sweat seemed to fill the cabin, despite the fact that the AC was cycling in outside air, and for the first time he felt trepidation about being alone with B.

"I am sorry Sam." The voice was soft, and surprisingly, not a song from the radio but B's actual voice. He felt still fresh tears spring into his eyes again, shivering at how exposed he suddenly felt sitting there.

"It's ok B." He knew part of him had wanted what had almost happened between them, whatever it might have been, so he couldn't blame the autobot for it. In fact his terror partly stemmed from the fact that deep down, he still wanted it. And that, above all things, just wasn't possible. His mind refused to even acknowledge what it was, by putting a name to it, let alone participate in any act that related to it.

"I just," He swallowed awkwardly to suppress the surge of bile he felt in his stomach, "I never really thought about… us… like that before." And he hadn't. In all the time they spent together, the struggles against the Decepticons, the trauma he had felt at B's capture and later wounding, it had never once occurred to him that what he felt went beyond just friendship. Looking back at it he was amazed that he hadn't wondered about it before; but he had been so focussed on Mikaela then, so desperate to prove to himself and his parents that he could get the girl. At the moment it looked like he wouldn't get the girl anyway. Oh he wasn't sure he was ready to admit that he could possibly have anything with his car, but he already knew that what he had with Mikaela wouldn't work. The incident on the track seared his nerves, reminding him exactly how intense it had all been. Beneath the turmoil and doubt there was still the humbling knowledge that somehow he had seen right into the depths of B, to the core that rested within, surely a gift that not many got to witness. He wasn't precisely sure what love was supposed to feel like, but he knew what he'd felt with Bumblebee was closer than his relationship with Mikaela.

"I am sorry Sam. I was not thinking." A brief shudder seemed to travel through the length of the car then.

"I was not expecting to ever feel something like that." Sam felt himself smile then, a little more firmly than moments ago. At least, if anything, that meant that if he was weird for feeling… it… for his metallic partner, then said partner was equally weird. He relaxed a little, feeling slightly more at ease with the admission that Bumblebee hadn't ever felt what had just happened before either.

"It'll be fine B. Really." His voice was soft, but absolutely confident. He didn't know what was going to happen to the two of them, but he had no doubt that whatever the result was, they'd both deal with it together. They'd always been good together.

They'd always been great together.

"I just need time." He felt a slight vibration of understanding and acceptance pass through the carpet shrouded metal beneath his feet, and settled back for the trip home. He gently laid a hand on the steering wheel, then swiftly pulled it away as it shivered with his touch. A flash of light exploded behind his eyelids, accompanied by that same deep pulse, that was B's deepest core.

That was B.

Evidently the experience had left a lasting impact on both of them, not just him. Apprehension followed the fading light and sound in his mind, and he desperately hoped that Optimus at least would know what was happening. The engine started with a throb, which shot straight up Sam's spine to his chest, his entire being resonating with the sound. The sensation took his breath away again, and he grit his teeth, forcing his lungs to draw air in and out. The sound of the engine was unsteady as they pulled away, evidence that sitting in B was having the same effect for the autobot as it was for him. He reached out and ran his hand gently across the centre console, feeling and hearing the engine shoot past the red line, while light filled his eyes.

Hopefully this was all just temporary, a result of increased hormones, and their robot equivalent, after the incident on the track.

Optimus had to have an answer. Didn't he?

Fin

I'm not 100 happy with how this turned out. It went through about 5 versions before I settled on this one.