Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers I'd actually have a car. I have no car, therefore, I do not own Transformers.
A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful feedback for the last chapter! Finals/end of term papers are upon me, poor student that I am, so it might be another few weeks before I pop out another update, but stick around!
Chapter Six: Of Mechs and Ladies
"How is she doing, Ratchet?"
Astrid squirmed, trying to go back to sleep. Who was talking so loud? Had she left the tv on before she went to sleep?
"Physically, she'll recover, though I shudder to think what would've happened if Jazz hadn't been tailing her."
Ratchet...? Mr. Ratchet? Was that Mr. Prime's voice, too?
"Has her brother been contacted?" That was Mr. Ratchet's voice, although it was louder than she remembered.
"Yes. He is on his way here." And that was definitely Mr. Prime. "Captain Lennox will be remaining in Washington to finish their errand and return as soon as possible. They were both...greatly concerned over the attack."
"Of course they were," Ratchet groused. "She is Airman Fenner's sister, after all, and she's on friendly terms with the entire Lennox household. I'd be surprised if they weren't concerned after what happened."
After what happened...? She remembered going to bed... having a bad dream about...eyes. There had been gigantic eyes in her window. And there had been a gigantic robot that tried to squish her. Then she'd been taken to some sort of... robot base... and she must still be there.
She sat up faster than she probably should've and swung her head around as she tried to figure out where she was. At some point the big yellow robot must have set her down, because she was now lying in a small nest of grey blankets that had been constructed on what looked to be a very large tabletop.
The yellow face of her rescuer's friend suddenly loomed down in front of her and offered what was meant to be a reassuring look. "How are you feeling?"
Astrid yelped and back pedaled across the table. Her eyes were riveted to the enormous 'bot in front of her and she only realized how far she'd managed to get when her foot went back and met empty air. Another yelp escaped her as she tottered backwards and started to fall over the rim of the ledge. The yellow robot shouted something in alarm, and Astrid clenched her eyes shut in preparation for a messy death. Before she hit the ground, though, she landed on something warm and hard that careful dipped as it caught her in order to break her fall.
The ground did not move. And it wasn't generally warm, either.
Her eyes remained shut for several seconds as she fought to regain control of her rapid breathing, and she was suddenly aware of going up, like in an elevator. She opened her eyes to find herself once again level with the top of the table, looking across at one frazzled robot.
"There ya go," a deep, resonant voice that she very much recognized said. "I gotcha."
Very cautiously, Astrid peered over her shoulder to see the largest robot she had yet come across with his face very near to hers. It was his hand she was sitting in, and she made her exit to the table with surprising alacrity for someone whose rib cage felt like it was on fire. The metal mountain made a low rumbling noise that she took for a laugh and backed away from the table.
"Please don't do that again," the yellow one said.
"Wh-what are you?" Astrid asked.
"We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron," the tall one rumbled.
"But you can call us Autobots," said the other.
"Your government has granted us freedom within its borders and allowed us to construct a base of operations from which to better combat the Decepticons," the metal mountain said. "Captain Lennox recruited your brother to aid him in his job as our human liaison with your government and military. My first lieutenant, Jazz, was assigned to protect your brother and any family he may have considered close. We apologize that our first official meeting with you was under such unfortunate circumstances. However, we are deeply relieved that Barricade did not seriously harm you."
Astrid winced as she touched her ribs. The term 'serious harm' was debatable. "And what was he? Barricade, I mean."
"A Decepticon," said the yellow robot, "a faction of our race with no regard for sentient life different from our own, and sometimes not even then."
Thoughts chased each other around in her head, making Astrid dizzy enough to take a seat again in her little nest. Her knees were drawn up to her chin and she glanced from one giant alien robot to the next. Her brother was working with aliens. There was an alien living in her garage. A really big frickin' robot had wanted to make her into a gory pancake because she was squishier than it was.
Just about that time, her forehead collided with her knees with a dull thump.
"Miss Fenner?"
Astrid looked up at the tall one dully, wondering what else it could possible want to tell her. Were they in league with Darth Vader now?
"My name is Optimus Prime," he said in a particularly gentle tone, "and you already know my medical officer, Ratchet."
"Prime and Ratchet..." Astrid's eyebrows nearly connected above her nose and her lips turned down in a thoughtful frown. "You wouldn't happen to..."
"Transform into vehicles like Jazz? Naturally," said Ratchet. He smiled at her indulgently and suddenly there was a man standing beside her.
Astrid jumped about a foot in the air and wondered idly if her jaw would ever be able to close again or if she was doomed to be a walking fly trap for the rest of her days. Beside her, Mr. Ratchet smiled understandingly and literally offered her a shoulder to lean on as Mr. Prime fizzled into existence next to him.
"So you weren't... all the time you were really..."
"The vehicles we 'drove' were really our alternate modes," Ratchet explained. "So you've technically met us before, and spoken with us as well if that makes you feel any better."
"Not... particularly," Astrid said. Wobbling again, she collapsed for the third time in the pile of blankets that had been provided for her. "Wow."
"Are you feeling alright, Miss Fenner?" asked Prime.
Blinking, Astrid looked up at the colossus standing before her and shook her head dumbly. "I rode all the way from Ohio in a sentient semi truck that transforms into a giant alien robot and you're asking if I feel alright?"
"Giant alien mech," Ratchet corrected as his hologram winked out of existence.
"Sorry," said Astrid. "Kinda new at this whole mechanical manners thing."
Prime made that rumbling sound again and his own hologram vanished. The enormous mech straightened to his full height and gave the much smaller human a moment to adjust before holding his hand out politely for her.
"Your brother will not be here for several hours, Miss Fenner, and I am sure that Ratchet, while a fine medic, would not be the most calming of companions," Optimus said. The medic grumbled something darkly under his breath about the Prime's next maintenance check, but the larger mech ignored him and focused on Astrid, who was looking at the hand in a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.
It reminded him very much of when the young woman had been faced with Sarah Lennox's offer of friendship. Only the hand in question had been considerably smaller and less threatening.
Very slowly, and very carefully, Astrid took a step forward. She edged towards the hand at a slightly sideways angle, eyeing it like Optimus might change his mind and squash her, but she kept coming.
Finally, she stood so close to the inviting palm that her muddy jeans rubbed against the smooth metal. Behind her, Ratchet had stopped even pretending to clean his tools and watched the girl with guarded intensity. She looked into the palm of Optimus's hand, then up at his gently reassuring optics. Without taking her eyes from his gaze, she cautiously wrapped her arm around his thumb for support... and slipped onboard.
There was an almost auditory sigh of relief from Ratchet, and Optimus lifted his hand smoothly up to the level of his chest as Astrid continued to cling onto his fingers. The pair of them moved out of the med bay then, leaving Ratchet to prepare for his next victim, and went out into the rest of the base.
Optimus had hardly placed one foot outside the door when his path was inadvertently blocked by one of his mechs sagging against the wall. At the sight of his commander, the soldier straightened and visibly perked up. He opened what Astrid guessed to be the mechanical equivalent of a mouth to speak, but just as he prepared to voice his thought, he caught sight of Astrid nestled in the palm of his leader's hand, and his 'mouth' clamped shut.
"Jazz," Prime said.
"Optimus... sir," said the silver mech.
Astrid gripped Prime's fingers a little harder and leaned up to get a better view of the much tinier 'bot down below. She recognized him immediately, an entire beat before Prime launched into official introductions.
"Astrid Fenner, meet Jazz, one of my best mechs," he said in his deep, rumbling voice.
"Pleased to meet you again, little lady," Jazz said in an even deeper voice, which Astrid found oddly funny considering his comparatively smaller stature.
"Pleased to meet you," she replied. "Ah, sorry about- well, earlier."
"Don't go apologizing to nobody, little lady," Jazz ordered. "If I'd been you I woulda done the same thing."
"Except you would probably have kicked the creep's rear into the next state instead of turning into a damsel in distress."
"I am a mech," the robot admitted, "so actin' like a squealing femme mighta been hard."
Optimus rumbled in a pleased way, setting Astrid's teeth vibrating as the sound traveled through the hand holding her. Who needed a Shiatsu massage chair when you had an easily amused giant robot?
"Perhaps, Jazz, you would be interested in showing Miss Fenner the base? You are, after all, practically her guardian," Prime suggested.
"I'd love to show the little lady around!" said Jazz. "How's that sound to you?"
"That sounds... fine..."
Just like an elevator, the hand holding her descended what was probably a couple of stories until she was lowered close enough to the floor to safely slide off. Prime straightened up again, and Astrid remembered what it was like to be a very small child standing in a room with grown-ups. Only, the adults in her life had never been quite this big.
Jazz reached to pick her up, but Astrid shyly shook her head and explained in a very small voice, "I think I'd like to just walk for a little bit if that's alright."
"No problem with that, little lady," said Jazz. "Thanks for bringing her, Optimus."
"It was my pleasure, friend," Prime said in his impossibly resonant voice.
As his leader moved slowly off down the hall, Jazz looked down at the human girl shifting her weight awkwardly from foot to foot before him. She gave him a cock-eyed smile that said more clearly than any words, 'what now?'
"Met anyone besides the Boss Man and old doc Hatchet?" he asked.
"Only the ro- mechs that you bumped into last night," said Astrid.
"Sunny and Sides," Jazz supplied. "We'll go to the rec room. Might be some mechs worth talking to off duty..."
He began moving along the hall with very slow, careful steps to allow Astrid to keep up with him without straining herself. With every shift of his feet, he checked the position of the little human. Jazz trusted his scanners and also the young woman's sense of caution, but a Cybertronian couldn't be too careful when it came to dealing with fragile organics. Anything might happen if he got careless. Little nudges or bumps that wouldn't even dent a transformer could seriously harm or even kill a human.
Soon they were walking through more trafficked areas of the hallways, and Astrid brought herself a little closer to Jazz's large but familiar feet as other Autobots passed them. A few inquisitive looks were shot in the girl's direction, and she shrank even nearer to her ginormous protector. Jazz felt a swell of humor and pride at the youngling's trust in him, and tried to keep himself between her and any mech she might not feel safe around. Soon, though, this became slightly dangerous as groups of mechs passed each other in the fairly narrow space, and feet were shuffled around gracelessly as they tried to squeeze through some of the tighter junctions.
Finally, Jazz crouched down again and held his hand out for the girl, saying, "I'd feel better if you were up here for a little while. Nobody here'd hurt you on purpose, but these are some pretty big feet, and this is a pretty small hallway. Would you mind takin' a ride the rest of the way?"
"Thanks, that'd be great," Astrid admitted, gratefully scooching into the cupped hands.
Jazz made good time the rest of the way without the short-legged human restraining his pace, and they arrived in the rec room shortly after that. It was crowded, as usual, and Astrid clamped her hands over her ears for the first few minutes to try and put a dampener on the racket. Never again would she consider her extended family as loud. Not one of her cousins or aunts had a dime on the Autobots. It seemed with their added height and weight came added ability to make some really frickin' loud noise.
It seemed that her transport was a widely liked robot-person, because as soon as he was spotted by the general assembly the shouts doubled in number and volume, leaving Astrid a small ball of taut nerves and strained eardrums in Jazz's hands. Her discomfort didn't go unnoticed, however, and once they'd seen just what Jazz had cupped in his grasp, several of the mechs waved urgently at their fellow soldiers, making shushing noises that sounded extremely out of place coming from the walking weapons. Astrid giggled to herself, and slowly uncurled from the fetal-position that she'd assumed upon entering the rec room.
Jazz set her down in the human platform that Lennox had sat on only a few weeks earlier and decided the fate of the Fenner family. As she tried self consciously to brush off the worst of the dried mud and gunk from her clothing, Astrid took a look around and nodded appreciatively. Just seeing that humans were common enough in the base to warrant their own section of the massive facility made her feel a little more at ease. Her unofficial guardian settled down nearby on a mech-sized stool and watched her carefully. When he was sure that she wasn't going to freak out and do something dramatic and possibly dangerous to her own health, he settled down on his elbows and waved a few of his tamer friends over towards the young human.
"This is Wheeljack and Bumblebee," he said. "Our resident scientist and our best scout."
"Is this Airman Fenner's younger sibling?" the one called Wheeljack asked excitedly. Astrid backpedaled rapidly as his face zoomed in to within a yard of her own. "Siblings! Can you imagine? It's so different with our kind! The twins for example..."
"'Jack," Bee said, carefully pulling the overeager mech back to a safe distance, "I'm sure it's all very fascinating, but you're scaring the human."
"Oh! Am I?" he exclaimed. Wheeljack's optics widened, and Astrid tried to hide another bout of giggles with a slightly strangled snort. The poor scientist looked horrified, and backed up several more paces than was necessary in a needless show of harmlessness. "I'm so sorry! And here you are, just out of the med bay..."
"Oh, she's a good, level-headed little lady, 'Jack," Jazz assured him, winking an optic at Astrid. "I'm sure she'll forgive you."
"Oh, yes! Please, please, I do beg for your forgiveness. If Ratchet found out..." Wheeljack's words died away as a look of growing fear spread over his face. His hand meandered up to his helm, which, Astrid noted, was sporting several nasty looking dents.
"There's nothing to forgive," Astrid assured him. "You were just a little too excited is all. No problem. I'm fine. It's not like you tried to...squish me or anything."
All three mechs' faces grew grim at the mention of squishing, and Bumblebee shook his head with remorse. "I hope you don't believe that all of us are like that slagger," he said. "No Autobot would ever harm a human..."
"Don't worry, Mr. Prime already gave me your history in a nutshell. I know what's going on now... sorta."
"Well, my shift's about to start," Wheeljack suddenly declared, "and if I'm late Ratchet will throw something at me regardless of whether or not he hears about that first little incident..."
"Ratchet won't hear about it from me," said Astrid.
"The Hatchet won't hear about what?"
The mechs and human all turned to see a pair of shiny 'bots, one red, one yellow, standing near the human platform with their arms crossed over their well-polished chests.
"Nothing!" Wheeljack said, just a little too quickly to be believable. "There's nothing!"
"Uh-huh." The red one's eyes drifted down from his fellow mech to rest on the little human below, who was growing just a little bit anxious in the presence of the intimidating twins. Jazz, being the human-friendly mech he was, noticed and gave the other mech a steady frown.
"Cool down the questions a little 'Sides," he said. "Astrid's still a little new to being around critters bigger than her home, and we're trying not to startle her any more than we have to."
The hidden warning in Jazz's tone was completely lost on the red mech, however, and his optics lit up with unnatural brilliance at the mention of the human's name.
"Is this the other Fenner, then? Jeremy's little sister?" 'Sides inquired.
"Yes, and she's just recovered from a very traumatic experience..." Wheeljack reasoned.
"Does she like pranks?"
There was a collective moan from all the mechs gathered around the human level, but 'Sides seemed oblivious.
"That electric whoopee cushion her brother let us borrow is the best thing since high grade," he continued. His focus narrowed down to Astrid."You know anything about stuff like that?"
"Enough to survive in the same house as Jeremy, yeah." Astrid blinked. "Why?"
"Whatever you do, tell them nothing about schemes or jokes that might be put into practical effect," Bee warned her. "These two are the pranking champions in the Autobot faction. Especially 'Sides."
"Like I said," Astrid repeated with a shrug, "I only know enough to survive around my brother." 'Sides visibly drooped. "But I do know a lot of cool junk that you might find interesting on some prank-generating level... really deep down."
"Such as?" the yellow one drawled.
"Well, a lot of creepy human history stuff," Astrid supplied. "For instance... Wait. Do you guys know anything about human anatomy?"
Again, the yellow one huffed. "More than I ever need or wanted to know. Ratchet shoved that slag down all of our intake valves the minute we landed on this rock. Something about 'knowing our strength' or some other slag."
"Language," said Jazz. "She's hardly more than a youngling."
"Well, there was a group of humans in the Dark Ages known as the Vikings," said Astrid, ignoring both comments. "They were extremely warlike, and they invaded huge tracts of Europe, enslaving or killing most of the local populations. Some of their execution techniques were rather interesting, though. One especially, called the Viking Blood Eagle, was very creative. What they did was force you down on your stomach, slit open your back and pull out your lungs so they folded out to look like the wings of a bird, thus, the blood eagle."
Every mech present was shell shocked. From what they'd seen, humans, apart from some military personnel, were disgusted by any sight or mention of their own internal workings, and even more repulsed by descriptions of death and gory physical damage. Astrid was just a little human, and, from everything Jeremy had told them, a very sheltered femme, but to know things like the rite she'd just described...
"Can we keep her?" asked 'Sides.
"Too late now, 'Sides," said Jazz. "I saw her first."
"Technically speaking, Optimus and I saw her first," a familiar old mech said, approaching the gathering, "so you're all out of luck."
"Ratchet!" Astrid squealed. "What are you doing here? I thought you had... other stuff... that you had to do."
"I do," said the medic, "but I received news from the 'grapevine' as you humans say, that the twins were presently in the rec room, so I thought I might as well kill two turbo rats with one wrench."
"Beg pardon?"
"I thought it wise to ensure that my work had not been damaged again so shortly after leaving my med bay," he said with a pointed look at the twins, "and both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are due for a systems check, anyway. As I said, one wrench."
The discussion deteriorated from there, and both Jazz and Bumblebee moved to shield the fragile human from the desperate brawl that ensued as the medic drew the two twins out of the room and towards what they kept on screaming was 'the Pit'. Once the door at closed behind the medic and his captives, though, things calmed down once again, and a good many of the mechs went off to attend to their duties elsewhere. Bumblebee was among these, and he left with a friendly goodbye and a promise to introduce her to anyone Jazz didn't later on.
Astrid waved shyly from where she still stood on the human rec platform as the lumbering robots moved on to perform their duties. She was still having problems keeping the terminology straight. Mechs. Robots. Autobots. Decepticons.
She only hoped Jeremy could help her sort all this out when he got back.
.O.O.O.
Anxiously, Will knocked the official looking papers in his hands straight on the edge of the tray before him. His eyes slid sideways to catch a glimpse of the young man stewing in the seat to his left, and he quickly directed them forward again. This already qualified as a long flight, but sitting next to a peeved elder brother as his younger sister sat around in an alien base of operations after being brutally attacked by a massive robotic monster made it a very long flight. Jeremy was a good kid, Will knew, and normally spending this much time with him wouldn't be a problem. At the moment, however, the soldier was privately wishing for the safe defense of Ironhide's cannons between himself and that killer glare.
The plane shuddered to life as the pilot taxied it out towards the runway, and Will released his death grip on the papers in order to hastily fasten his seatbelt before he resumed looking busy. It was a rather pathetic attempt, in all honesty, but he felt as if he could at least act like Fenner was alone with his violent emotions and not strapped into the seat beside him...
Minutes later they were airborne. Once they'd broken through the clouds, the army man felt at ease enough to peer out the window at the fluffy white wonderland below him instead of keeping his eyes riveted to the stack of paper that was quickly becoming marred with wrinkles and sweaty hand prints. Idly, he wondered if Ratchet would be able to piece him back together if Fenner lost it... the wrath of a protective sibling was a terrible thing to be hit with...
"I shouldn't have left her alone."
Will's head jerked around from the window, and his hard gaze locked on his new assistant.
"I shouldn't have accepted this job."
"Jeremy," Will sighed, raking his fingers back through his cropped hair, "there's no way you could've known..."
"Yes, there was," said Fenner. "You told me as much before I signed the papers. You said it was dangerous."
"But none of us ever thought that Astrid of all people would be in any danger," Will argued. "Think about it for a minute before you go bashing your head against stuff. What could she have possibly offered the 'Cons? They thought she knew where the base was, Jeremy. Who knows what they thought? Maybe they believed that just because I had contact with either of you that you knew where the Autobots had set up camp. Or maybe they found out about our little road trip from Ohio... My point is that the Decepticons could've attacked her for any number or reasons. Don't beat yourself up about something that's probably not even your fault. I mean, did you stick a sign to her back or something that said 'squish me'?"
His last comment got the desired response, and Jeremy emerged from his stewing enough to crack a smile.
"There've been a few times I was tempted to, but... no."
"There. See?" Will leaned back in his seat, though he kept a sharp eye on the younger soldier. "She's made of tougher stuff than I thought, though. Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. Ratchet said she was doing great, especially considering how she met our friends."
"She's like that," said Jeremy. "She stands up pretty well against emotional pressure, at least around strangers. Give her some time to herself, though, and she'll let it all out after a little while. She still needs people, even though some folks have thought otherwise."
"Really?" Will asked. "Sarah and I always thought she was a sweet kid."
"She gets that a lot, too." Jeremy squirmed in his seat and tugged restlessly at his seatbelt. "She's sort of a dying breed, you could say. Of all the old fashioned, neat, logical little snots, she's the worst; she's a lady, or becoming one, and I can't help but get anxious about her every now and then. I mean, really, who nowadays doesn't think dating's a good a idea, or feels the need to wash her mouth out with soap is she says 'crap'.
"How the heck's she supposed to deal with a whole base full of robotic alien soldiers, sir?"
"We'll deal with that question a little bit at a time," said Will. "And try to remember, too, that the Autobots have a few gentlemen among them as well to take care of your little lady."
A/N: Thanks for reading! FEED THE STARVING AUTHORS! Leave a donation in the cute little box below.
Replies:
Willow Wings: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked those parts, worried Jazz is much fun to write. Hope to see another review from ya! And thanks again!
GodisGod!Iamnot...: Thank you! Enough people showed up to keep me somewhat alive, so... yeah. Wish there could be more, but I'll take what I can get. Thanks again!