Disclaimer: Me no own and you no sue, doo-da, doo-da...
A/N: Yay! More reviews! I love you guys, and I'll get back to you over the weekend. My muse kicked me out of bed last night and made me write more... on this fic... so be grateful. But, yeah, NEW DEAL! I will still update once a week, as promised, but I'm holding a goody-bag out as encouragement for more reviews: I will update again as soon as I have twelve reviews (or more). Considering the numbers you guys have been leaving me, it shouldn't be too difficult for you. Thanks for all of the encouragement!
Chapter Twelve: Of Christmas Bells and Well-Meant Encouragement
"So," Jeremy said, popping the cap off a bottle of pop, "how are things going with you and Mirage? Been allowed in the driver's seat yet?"
Astrid slowed down the speed of her chewing. She suddenly realized that she ought to take time to carefully savor each aspect of her oatmeal and make sure it was flawlessly mushy before swallowing. Chewing your food really well was supposed to be very healthy for you, right? This also gave her time to think out her answer. Unfortunately, Jeremy knew a delay tactic when he saw one, and in the blink of an eye he'd gone from offhandedly curious to overbearing older brother.
"Astrid," he said in a warning voice, "what aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing," she said honestly. "There's nothing."
"Aren't you getting along with Mirage?" he asked.
"We get along fine," Astrid snapped. She grabbed viciously for her glass of milk and took a gulp before even trying to continue. "It's just that we aren't bosom buddies is all. Is that a crime?"
"Nooo," Jeremy said slowly. "Most of us just think that it... helps... if you develop some kind of relationship with your guardian. Look at me and Jazz! Or Will and Ironhide. It helps the Autobots see what they're fighting for, and it helps us... not freak out."
"I haven't freaked out," Astrid grumped.
"Yeah, but you don't seem too happy about all this, either," Jeremy said.
"If you remember, I wasn't happy about this whole arrangement from the start," she growled. "You're one of the ones that thought it was such a fabulous idea."
"I never said that."
"But you sure didn't argue much with Prime about it."
"Right. Who the heck argues with Optimus Prime?"
"You have a point," Astrid consented, "and for that I won't kill you before I go psycho and try to paint Mirage lime green in his sleep."
.O.O.O.
"I'm going to dismantle that slagger with a spork!"
Both Jeremy and Astrid winced at the earsplitting roar that reverberated from the med bay. Will trotted up to meet them, looking thoroughly frazzled.
"What's going on?" Jeremy asked.
"Well, doctor Ratchet has turned into Mr. Hatchet, but I guess you've figured that out already," he said.
Astrid hesitated. "Does it have to do with..."
"You and Mirage?" Will asked. "Hit the nail on the head. Prime took Mirage into his office with a few of his key advisors to ask him some questions about how things were going. Needless to say, the cat's out of the bag." He cast a slightly disapproving look in Astrid's direction, and she shrank down in immediate dejection. A lot of things she could handle with ease, but disappointment never failed to flatten her.
Jeremy's arm dropped down on her shoulders, and Astrid found the will to ask, "So Ratchet's really mad at me?"
"Ah, no," Will said, shifting to his other foot with an amused smile that he was trying very hard to suppress. "No, he's just mad at Mirage. Poor guy didn't even have a chance. He just walked into the med bay and got a welder to the helm. Jazz isn't too happy with him, either. Pretty much all the mechs are on your side, Astrid, and I can't honestly say that I'm too against you, either. The one you need to worry about is Prime. He's just ticked with both of you."
"Well," Astrid said, adopting an insincere smile, "that's comforting."
"That's good," said Will, "because right now Optimus wants to see you."
"Oh... great."
With that they turned and started walking the all too short journey to Prime's office. All of them were quiet, although Will didn't seem too concerned and Jeremy was even fighting down a smirk. Astrid was the only one who seemed really worried. Would he hate her? Would he ask that she completely dissolve her relationship with the rest of the Autobots since she didn't seem able to follow the rules and work with the difficulty of a guardian?
Will caught on to her mood just when they came to a stop in front of the transformer-sized door that led to the leader's work room and offered her a kinder smile. "Relax," he said. "They don't hurt humans, remember? All he wants to do is talk." He punched the human-level button and stepped aside.
Astrid took a mighty gulp, much to the men's amusement, and stepped inside. The door closing behind her startled her much more than it should have, and Astrid suddenly felt like a guilty child sent to the principal's office. Her eyes dropped from Prime's lofty desk to the shiny floor, and her hands folded themselves behind her back of their own accord.
"Astrid?"
She glanced up, abashed before he'd said more than her name. Optimus was sitting in the massive chair behind the desk, hands placed before him, eyes focused on the little human drooping before him.
"Have a seat, please," he said.
Mutely, Astrid obeyed and took a seat in the same chair she'd sat in when Optimus first informed her that he was assigning Mirage to be her guardian. What was it about Mirage that kept getting her called into Prime's office?
"Astrid," Prime said in his gentlest voice, "you are not in trouble." She looked up. "I merely wish to discuss the situation with Mirage."
"Oh."
"Yes. 'Oh'," Prime said. He leaned back in his chair."Would you care to inform me what is exactly is going on?"
"Not much?"
Prime's gears groaned and he slowly lifted a hand to cover his optics. "Mirage's reply was much the same."
"At least you know we're not jerking your chain," Astrid said hopefully.
"True," Optimus sighed, "but I'm afraid that doesn't solve the problem."
"No," Astrid admitted, falling back into her seat, "I guess it doesn't."
"So what can we do to resolve this situation?"
"Get me a new guardian?"
"The reasons you were paired together have not changed, Astrid," Optimus said. "We will not find the answer to this dilemma by giving up on the entire issue. You are still in danger, and Mirage is still in need of human contact. From what I understand, Astrid, he has been doing his job as guardian, but neither of you have been doing your jobs as companions and allies."
Shamefaced once again, she fidgeted in her seat and glanced away from Optimus's face.
"We just don't like each other, sir," she said. "He's an egotistical snob, and I'm sure he sees me as some organic smear that he has to put up with."
"Or could it be that you are both strongly opinionated and, dare I say, stubborn members of your respective species?"
"Hm. That might also have something to do with it."
"I thought as much," Optimus said, a smile in his voice. "It is my opinion that all the two of you need is to learn the things about the other person that you could respect. For example, as you've insinuated with your earlier comments, Mirage is very 'well bred' as you humans say, and I'm sure he'd be more likely than many of my other soldiers to enjoy some of your cultural events."
"Possibly," Astrid said grudgingly, "but how exactly do you get past the 'highly opinionated' and, honestly, obstinate parts of our personalities?"
"Time... and mutual respect."
.O.O.O.
Christmas morning dawned much warmer than Astrid was used to, and she grumbled like she had the previous year about southwestern climates and the lack of all things chilly. Jeremy pointed out that she'd always hated the snow back in their childhood home, but nothing could dissuade her from sulking in her pessimism. Not even Jazz tried to rouse her Christmas spirit, having decided earlier to just let her angsty teenage hormones run their course before he even dreamed of interfering.
Really, though, as much as she complained about capris and t-shirts in December, she was really just nursing her wounds. Jazz and Jeremy had Christmas presents for each other that were stashed in Jazz's back seat for the trip to the Autobot base, where they would be celebrating the human holiday with the rest of their allies. Only Prime really knew where Bumblebee was, as he had vanished to spend the season with his own human 'family' that had moved off to attend college. And from what she'd heard, Ironhide was plotting to give Will some sort of Cybertronian mini-canon that he could shoot without the kickback breaking every bone in his body. Whether his shoulder would be in such great shape after several uses was inconsequential.
But there had been nothing from Mirage. He hadn't even wished her a merry Christmas. After Prime's lecture she'd gone and gotten all inspired to buy him a Christmas present. She'd nearly burst a brain cell trying to figure out what the heck an Autobot like Mirage could possibly want from a mud ball like Earth. In the end she'd settled on licence plate frames. Nothing at all flashy or colorful, like she probably would've chosen for her own car, but sleek, shiny and chrome- painted... and also rather pricey. The cost didn't bother her as much as she was afraid it would, though. Jenna's present had been cheap, and Jeremy's had been even cheaper. One wanted a single, paperback novel that she'd been drooling over in the college town bookstore; the other got yet another nineties action movie to add to his collection. So the frames hadn't been all that bad. Not all that good, but not bad enough to seriously harm the numbers in her savings account. In their defense, they really were very catchy-looking. Astrid had no doubt that they would just flow seamlessly into Mirage's design.
At first she'd been worried about whether or not transformers accessorized, but she'd been reassured from several reliable sources that they did like the interesting little flairs that humans used to enhance the appearance and personalities of their cars. Astrid had thought buying something like flashy rims or undercarriage lighting would have been better, but her poor little piggy bank was skin and bones as it was, and she really didn't want to totally kill the poor thing. She was in college after all, and the little critter needed a break.
It had been three days before the day of the season that she'd gone and totally changed her mind. As she rested in her old bed that night, staring at the familiar ceiling, a realization had struck her. Mirage was not Sunstreaker, or Wheeljack, or Jazz. He was different. He would appreciate different things. While she had no doubt that the plate frames would be politely received, she was beginning to understand that such a gift would be correct... but meaningless. So she looked again... and this time, she found what she was looking for.
Now she was wondering whether or not she should've even bothered. The night before, Christmas Eve, when they'd been helping decorate the central hangar-room of the base, she'd quietly stolen the gift from where she'd left it and, once she was sure Mirage was out on patrol, carefully hidden it in his room. She didn't make it impossible or even unlikely to ever be found, but left it so he'd probably miss it that evening, but find it before they left to go back to school.
She hoped he'd like it, and not think her a foolish, dreaming child for giving him such a thing. With any luck he'd just miss it entirely.
At any rate, at least she wouldn't have to be there when he opened it, and she wouldn't have to live the humiliation of having so many witnesses to her disgrace.
And so she was still unhappy when she climbed out of Jazz's alternate form, but the symptoms had gone from irrational grouchiness to moody depression. She was sure Mirage would hate her present. That or - worse - laugh at it.
If only she could just sneak into his room and take it back before he found it...
The twins swept in on her then, shouting "Merry Christmas!" and trying their hardest to find out what she'd gotten each of them. All of her presents for the other Autobots were simple things, mostly homemade. Really, none of her gifts, even the replacement present for Mirage, had been expensive. Everyone receiving a gift from her knew her condition as a starving artist, and she doubted if they'd care if she got them something more expensive, anyway.
Present-opening was fabulous, even if Mirage did stand there like an alien statue, leaning against the back wall for the entire event. Annabelle Lennox got the most presents, hands down. Even Astrid had convinced Jenna to help her knit a very small yellow blanket with the red Autobot symbol in the far corner for the little girl. Jenna had scoffed and teased about the funny face that her friend insisted on adding, but was placated by the story that it was an Air Force thing. Mrs. Lennox also received a good many presents, including a beautiful necklace that Wheeljack himself had created for her. Will only let her put it on once the scientist had sworn that there was nothing even remotely explosive integrated in the metal or design. Naturally, the men had fewer presents but they were more expensive than nearly everyone else's. For example, the Lennoxs gave Jeremy a Wii, and he gave them a new camera to replace the one he'd accidentally run over. Epp's, who already had a Wii, was the recipient of probably about half the games designed for that game system.
All of the Autobot's presents were very sweet and heartfelt. They gave generously, and the outpouring of love in present-form that was returned was enough to have Optimus's bright blue optics sparkling. Together, the Fenner siblings had pooled enough money to get Jazz a collection of CDs that contained the most varied collection of music to ever be put together in the same gift bag. The cutest thing given by anyone, though, had to be the rough, squiggly drawing that Annabelle had made for Ironhide. Every female in the room couldn't resist cooing at the scene, and if Ironhide could blush, Astrid was sure he would've turned scarlet.
Astrid's personal favorite of any of the presents given to anyone, though, had to be the beautiful, custom-made cell phone that was given to her as a combined gift from the Autobots. Optimus was very careful to phrase the words so that it would be clear that this was in part from Mirage, but avoided any phrases that might cause the high society mech to take offense. It was very clear what his leader wanted from him, and Prime seemed to want everyone else in the world to know it, too. But the phone really was lovely. Each of its buttons could be used individually to speed-dial a certain Autobot that she knew and loved, it was her favorite color, and - best of all - it came with absolutely no monthly service charges. There was also a small but easily accessible red button on one side that would send out a distress signal over the entire Autobot communications channel in case of an emergency. She mostly ignored this last feature, but stashed the knowledge in the back of her mind, just in case she might need it later. What really made it special, though, and marked her as an undeniable member of the team, was the red face engraved on the back and painted over with red enamel.
All too soon, though, present opening and Christmas dinner were over and done with. As the festivities wound down and the different families moved towards their guardians for the ride home, Astrid was forced to face the more unpleasant parts of her life once again. And she was forced by the last people on Earth she'd ever thought would turn against her.
She stared incredulously at Jazz's passenger side door handle, not quite able to believe what she'd just heard.
"You're joking, right?" she asked.
"Nope," Jazz said just a little too happily for Astrid's taste. "You and 'Rage need some bondin' time, and yo won't ever get it if I keep givin' ya lifts."
"So it's either ride with Mirage or walk yourself home," Jeremy put in.
Astrid gulped. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the GT idling on the other side of the hangar and wondered if walking might actually be the better option. But Jeremy was giving her a very pointed look and she could just feel Jazz's optics boring into her.
With a haughty sniff she turned on her heel and marched across the room to where Mirage was waiting in his alternate form. She heard the telltale squeal of tires as Jazz peeled out of the base with her brother, but she was utterly determined to ignore them. If they wanted her to spend some quality time with her guardian - fine- but she'd make them regret their pushy tactics. The cold shoulder was an inborn talent of every woman ever to walk the earth.
Her trip across the hangar seemed to take an impossibly long time. It seemed like every eye in the room was watching her progress.
Mirage opened his door for her wordlessly and Astrid slipped in with matching quiet, unwilling to break the silence. It took all of a minute for her guardian to wheel himself quietly away from his fellow Autobots and onto the largely deserted highway. A few minutes after they were clear of the base, Astrid forced her eyes away from the view outside the window and looked around the interior of the car. Although everything was of the highest quality and style, no part of the vehicle held her attention. Instead, it was the familiar object resting between the two front seats that caught her eye.
"Oh," she said. "I see you found - got - your Christmas present."
"Yes," said Mirage. He hesitated. "It was a very generous gesture. Thank you."
Astrid blinked. "You're welcome," she said. Then it was her turn to hesitate. "Did... did you like it?"
For a minute the only noise was the thrumming of Mirage's engine, and Astrid wondered if she'd asked the wrong question. She probably wouldn't want to hear the answer anyway...
"I believe... yes. I do like it," he said at length, sounding as surprised by his answer as Astrid was. "It was... interesting. I found it very insightful to your species's emotions, and the way in which you perceive your own emotions."
Unable to help herself, Astrid leaned back into the soft leather of her seat and let loose a peel of laugher. "I knew it! Somehow I knew it! Who else would ever've thought that a giant alien robot would get into The Count of Monte Cristo!"
"I really did enjoy it," Mirage said defensively. Curious, he added, "I take it that this... novel... is a favorite of your own?"
"Oh, yes," Astrid sighed. "Great book. Sort of thing that's interesting while still making you think. Most books today either waste too much paper preaching at you or are merely for fun and nothing more. No one can blend the two aspects like the old masters."
"You human's method of recording stories is... interesting," Mirage said. "But wouldn't it be more efficient to use one of your computers to document such information?"
"Efficient, yes," Astrid said, "but you just loose something when you don't read it from an actual book. There's something about the weight of it in your hands, the smell of the paper, the rustle of each page when you turn it... you just don't get that with a computer file."
"This is true," said Mirage. "However, perhaps... perhaps I would understand it better if I were... human."
"Hmmm. Probably."
They arrived home just a few minutes later. Although they didn't get any farther in their conversation that night, the first brick had been broken off from the wall.
A/N: Again, not entirely happy with this chapter, but it's just one of those necessary ones that are sorta tough to write, but necessary for the story... Feed the starving artists! Leave a review!
Replies to those without accounts:
'Ace: Thank you very much! Yeah, I had fun writing that bit. Hope you enjoyed seeing some of the reactions! Thanks again!
GodisGod!andIamnot...: Thank you! I am so glad you enjoyed it. I agree about the movie. That seems to be the universal response to it from everyone I've spoken with. Aw, you thought of the fic? I am so flattered... Hugo Weaving ROCKS! I knew after the first movie, but it sounded more like him this time, and I must confess to thinking 'Agent Smith!' sporadically throughout the film. Especially during the brain-probe scene. Hope to hear from you again soon!
Alihag: Aww *Blushmutterkicksatdirt*. Thank you very, very much! That really is flattering. Keep this up and my head's gonna swell like I have a head cold...Thanks again!