First of all, I'm sorry to anyone who was disappointed by the last chapter, but it is my intent to make Cliffjumper an integral part of this story. There isn't a way to put two pairings with Arcee in them in the description. I guess if you don't like it but want to keep reading, just read every other chapter since those are the ones I plan to progress Smokescreen and Arcee's relationship in.
Secondly, I'm posting this with minutes to go until midnight. To everyone still awake and reading my story instead of partying it up, happy New Year!
"Talking."
Commlink talking.
PERSONAL TEXT MESSAGING
She unshuttered her optics slowly and felt coolant trickle down her faceplate.
Stupid fragger.
The femme sat up on her berth. Her chronometer informed her it was midnight. Her systems were still numb-feeling and sluggish, but going right back into recharge meant she'd jump right back into the dream where she left off, and she couldn't bear that.
She'd tried not to think of the red mech after he'd rounded the corner and out of sight that day. He wouldn't be thinking of her after all.
Tailgate had helped. They'd had a great partnership. They balanced each other out. He was her muscle and firepower; she was his patience and strategy. Hard as she tried not to let it happen, he'd grown attached to her, and she'd tried even harder not to do the same with him – and failed. He was immature and brash and most insufferable of all, fiercely possessive of her. He hadn't been great in the berth – terrible one might even say. But, he'd loved her with all his spark.
That had been his undoing. When Airachnid began torturing her, her emergency coding had involuntarily sent out a distress call to anyone that had her frequency. Tailgate had been the first one to answer. Only one other mech had her frequency, and he'd come too late.
She slid off her berth.
Midnight meant the shifts were changing. Ratchet could go twice as long without recharging as those in the fighting classes, but Optimus wisely insisted that someone always stay up with him. It was partly to keep him company, the prime said, but even more so it was so he wouldn't be alone if the base was attacked.
Wheeljack was up for this shift, and the two were already engrossed in a hologram game of Cogs. At least the Wrecker was. Ratchet only broke away from what he was working on when it was his turn. They both looked up when she entered the common room and nodded without saying anything. Neither would mind her company, but it was a game of memorized gear ratios and fluid dynamics and was about as entertaining as watching rust bloom to a bot that couldn't set the chronometer on her holovid player.
Maybe a shower instead.
She peeked in the washracks and found Smokescreen. He must have been who Wheeljack took over for. Besides West Virginia, she hadn't caught the Elite Guardsmech doing anything besides training and jumping through hoops for Ultra Magnus in weeks.
It didn't help that she might have been avoiding him a little since their scouting mission.
He used the scrubber to get at the cables and hydraulics under his collar plating then turned the spray from solvent to hot water to rinse and flourished his three hundred pound doorwings like a wet bird in a rain puddle. He vented a sigh and turned off the water, shook off the excess with a similar flutter and was going to get in the dryer but flinched at the sight of the femme watching him from the doorway.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"Shouldn't you be recharging?"
"Should. Couldn't stay powered down though. Nothing new."
"Oh." He smiled, stepping aside for her. "Well, it's all yours. I just have to dry off, and I'll be out of here."
Arcee nodded and turned on the cold water to wash away the lingering shreds of the dream. She must have still been a little overheated from it since the cold rinse felt good on her face and protoskin. Shuttering her optics, she tried to relax.
Her winglets rose at the sensation of heat and a familiar energy field behind her, and Smokescreen engulfed her shoulder in his servo.
"You okay?" She looked up at the mech and he smiled again, more cautiously. "Wanna talk about it?"
"No," she dismissed with a little wave and an insincere-feeling smile. "I'm fine. Go get some recharge … before Magnus wakes up."
He didn't believe her. She could feel his energy field nudging at hers now to open up and accept some comfort, but Arcee kept him shut out. She didn't want to talk much less curl up in his warmth and engine vibrations or recharge like she was offline just by being near the mech. Smokescreen was the type who would do anything to make a friend or teammate feel better. But, that was just it; she didn't want to feel better.
Her helm clanked when it hit the cinder block partition. Frag.
"I mean it. I'm good," she grumbled with assurance. "Just tired."
"Come on, Arcee." He nudged again, the smile still in his voice. "Was it about Cliffjumper?"
"Get smelted, Smokescreen!" she finally made herself snap.
Instantly, she felt him and his energy field recoil. There. That fixed it. The magic was gone, and both of them could move on.
The door slid shut and her spark winced painfully at the sound. She felt coolant sting her optics again and braced her arms against the wall and wrapped her servos over the back of her helm.
Why in the Pit had she done something so stupid?!
If she'd had some insatiable itch to scratch, she had pegged Wheeljack the day he showed up as a mech who would've been more than happy to oblige – anytime, anywhere, no strings attached, guaranteed. But Smokescreen? Why had she waited until he'd shown up? Why not molest poor Bumblebee or corner Bulkhead? Maybe her demented processor would get off on making the big, bad, green Wrecker cry.
But no – Smokescreen. She was such a glitch.
Frag. Frag. FRAG!
Little chips of concrete were coming off the wall, and her crest was beginning to sting.
But, that wouldn't be a problem now. She'd given him a reason to guard his spark from the likes of her, and he was safe. Safe from her or something else, she didn't know, but it didn't matter. She was the one that should get smelted.
Finally, the femme broke down and let the coolant flow, and her ventilations became unsteady as she slid to her knees on the floor.
Smelt Cliffjumper too! That fragging aft …
She sobbed shakily.
The water shut off. Before Arcee could look up confused, she heard and felt a heavy weight settle behind her, and she jumped when servos grabbed her and pulled her back into a lap.
Damn. She'd forgotten he could cloak his energy signature – same as her and Bumblebee.
"Let me go!" she tried to protest, but he only held on tighter when she tried to wriggle free. "Smokescreen! I swear …"
Warmth permeated her sensors. Arcee couldn't block his energy field when he was this close, and it quickly sapped her drive to struggle against the blue and gold chest plating.
"Leave me alone," she continued to insist.
"Only if you talk to me," he finally said.
"I don't want to!"
"Then we're just going to stay like this all night." He shrugged.
Arcee heated with anger, but his damned field kept the emotion from roiling to a head. She slumped, resting for a moment and rethinking her strategy.
"Please?" she tried.
The mech rumbled with amusement. "Hmm, thanks for asking nicely … but still: no."
Arcee pushed away as far as she could to scowl at his red insignia sourly. Fine. He'd have to let her go when she had to take Jack to school, so they could just sit here for all she cared.
Wait, was he purring now?!
She tried to catch him off guard and break his hold again but to no avail.
He vented a heavy sigh. "If you're gonna be stubborn, you might as well get some recharge," he decided, picking her up as he rose to his peds, then he wrangled her under one arm so he could operate the dryer.
To her horror, when the cycle ended, he took her out of the washrack room and started toward where Ratchet and Wheeljack were.
"Smokescreen, stop! Don't!"
"What?" he scoffed. "You think Ratchet doesn't know what happened? Then again, I guess you didn't get the pleasure of a full battery of tests to make sure all the right coding activated."
Arcee felt her plating heat. Of course Ratchet would know. But, Wheeljack didn't.
"Alright! Alright. Just stop." He paused and looked down at her with a smirk. "Yes. It was about Cliffjumper, I miss him, and I'm so glad we talked and hugged this out, now, can you PLEASE put me down?"
Smokescreen considered this a moment, leaning against the wall as if he wasn't rudely mech-handling a two-wheeler in the most undignified way possible.
"So, did you love him?"
"What?!" she hissed. "No! He was my partner."
"Then, you were 'just friends' with him too?" he concluded. "How many friends do you have on this team?"
Arcee growled with agitation. If he wasn't her teammate – or maybe more like if she knew she wouldn't get reprimanded for it – she'd have blasted him in the ped and made a run for it.
"Done talking?" he asked. "Guess I'm still taking you back to my room then."
"Wait! He was it. I mean … until now. But, that wasn't the same." She vented a sigh, going limp. "Look, I knew Cliff from before. It was just … convenient."
"Are you saying I'm inconvenient?"
That was exactly what she was thinking. "No! It's just … I was only … You see … ugh, I don't know."
"Do you regret it?"
"You're seriously asking me that NOW, while you're giving me the third degree like a sparkling?"
"No. Not me," he dismissed. "You couldn't possibly regret fragging a fine machine like me."
Oh good, there it was. She'd been starting to worry if his ego would make an appearance. Arcee resisted the impulse to roll her optics.
"I meant Cliffjumper. Do you regret what you had with him?"
The femme froze up for a moment then looked down at his peds. If she said yes, then he'd ask why she jumped him in West Virginia. If she said she hadn't regretted it, the best she could hope for was having to frag her way into a stalemate.
To her surprise, Smokescreen's peds started getting closer. He sat her down on the floor and smiled when she looked back up at him.
"Good talk." He stretched and turned on his heel to continue on towards his room. "Maybe we could talk some more tomorrow. Night."
The femme blinked at his retreating back.
Now that she didn't have to answer him … Arcee realized she hadn't known what her answer would have been.
The high school had just repaved the parking lot, and the heat from the sun was reflecting off of it in waves. It was luxurious. With Bumblebee on the lookout, Arcee was on the cusp of a stasis nap by the time the first bell rang, announcing the end of the school day. But, screeching guitar and a machine gun baseline tore her out of her happy place when the green Wrecker was a block away. If she'd had eyes they would've been watering by the time he pulled up beside her, taking up a parking space and the rest of her space that she wasn't using.
Hey, guys, he greeted obliviously, thankfully turning it off. Sorry I'm late. Magnus just could not take a hint.
I keep telling you; don't make optic contact. He takes it as a challenge, Bee pointed out.
Meh, he dismissed. Smoky distracted him for me. He understands I got a schedule to keep.
You didn't miss anything at least, Bee pointed out. Raf says they're in the principle's office for being late again.
Jeeze … his mom is gonna go loco.
No kidding, the yellow scout sighed. I feel sorry for him. That lady's scary.
June's not much better – especially when Jack's gotten her worked into a froth and she won't even listen to reason.
At least she knows the truth, Bulkhead pointed out. I think Miko has her host parents convinced I'm a Mexican drug lord or something. They won't even look out the window blinds when I pull up.
Off road armored vehicle, Bee put in. And, have you seen how much a Marauder costs? Can you blame them? At least it's a good cover.
I'd rather they liked me like Raf's parents and June, the gentle giant confessed gloomily.
Pit, my job would be a hundred times easier if June was scared of me. I'm older than some of the mountain ranges on this planet, and she still manages to make me feel like a youngling.
Shh, Bee hissed.
The three habitually killed their commlinks – as if the group of girls that had come too close could hear their messages. More than anything, they were curious enough to listen in, since it was the vehicles that were the subject of conversation.
"Hey, this is Gook's ride isn't it?" one of the girls asked, nodding toward Bulkhead.
Arcee felt his energy filed tense up as the trio shared a titter at Miko's expense.
"Definitely."
"Has anyone ever seen the guy?" the one Arcee recognized as Sierra asked.
"I heard he's from Vegas. That's where Gook's always disappearing, ya know?" the other added conspiratorially. "Probably a customer – if you know what I mean."
Again with the circuit-frying laughter.
Primus, human femmlings are ruthless, Bee commed, disgust evident in his field.
Yeah. Be glad Raf doesn't have anything to do with them, Arcee said as attention shifted to her.
"Why's your boyfriend always parked next to it?"
"Boyfriend? Please," Sierra scoffed, rolling her eyes. "That bike is the only thing Jack Darby's got that I'm interested in."
Too bad the bike fragging hates everything about you, Arcee stewed.
Why don't you tell him she's a rusty valve? Bee asked.
I have! She's got his circuits crossed, and he won't listen to me. I'm the bad guy if I bring it up.
"He gets all weird when I'm around it too," she went on. "He knows it's all he's got, and he's begging for any kind of attention he can get with it."
"It's like it'd be cute if it wasn't so pathetic?" her friend laughed.
Shame, Bulkhead said. I think Miko's got a smash on Jack really bad.
I think it's a 'crush,' Bulk, Bee said.
Smash. Crash. Whatever. Bulkhead dismissed. He's throwing away a fighter for some pleasure-bot that's so loose I can hear her gears slipping. It's stupid.
Wow. I think that's the meanest thing I've EVER heard you say, Arcee approved with amusement in her field.
Yeah well …
"So, you gonna check out the club on 37?" one of the girls asked. "They're changing Tuesday to Student Night to drum up some business."
"Kurt's taking me and Stephanie."
"Could I get a ride? I've still only got my learner's permit."
"I could probably sweet talk him into it. What about you Sierra? Think Vince can take you."
"He's still on vacation."
"Maybe you could get Jack to take you."
"Yeah – then leave with someone else," the other suggested.
More giggling that made Arcee want to grind her dente.
"After he spends his whole KO paycheck."
"You guys are SO mean," Sierra chided. "I love it."
Here come the reinforcements, Bulkhead announced with relief, drawing their attention to Miko and Raf coming down the steps. The girl assessed the situation before her peers took notice and gestured for Raf to go around while she ran interference.
"Hey! Get away from my ride. I don't want your skanky ass smell to rub off on him."
The girls looked up with contemptuous sneers all around.
"Trouble again, Gook?" one asked, unphased. "Looks like your boyfriend gave up on ya."
"Nah, he's been here listening the whole time. Hope you guys weren't talking nice about me behind my back," she teased. "You'd hurt my feelings."
Eye roll; they had that down to an art.
"Detention or special ed?" Sierra asked.
"Yeah, what's it like being the only Asian that can't do math?"
"Wow, Krista. Did you Google that insult just for me?" she deadpanned. "I'm flattered. I guess I never thought about it," she shrugged, eyes flicking to Raf tiptoeing toward Bumblebee's open door. "It's sorta like asking SOME people what it's like falling out of the slut tree and banging every guy on the way down?"
The human femmes might have felt it was beneath them to respond to such low blows, but Arcee suspected they didn't have appropriately stinging retorts to match Miko's attacks. Either way, she was a little disappointed when her charge approached, ending the show.
"Hey, Jack," Sierra waved.
"Um … hey," he smiled, looking behind him like there was a chance there was another Jack she'd been talking to. "What are you guys talking about?"
Arcee saw him kick himself for such a lame question.
"Math," Miko replied blandly. "I'll see ya around."
"Sure. Tomorrow … you mean. At school? Right?"
Primus. If I had any sense I'd make him ride home with you and Miko, Arcee groaned.
Oh, please don't, Bulkhead begged. I'll probably say something that'll make her even more slagged off.
Miko, if she was hurt, kept her face unreadable as she opened Bulkhead's door and got in.
Bee's door slammed, and he started his engine.
Catch you guys later. Tell Miko thanks for me, Bulk.
Sure, sure.
"Hey. Actually, we were just talking about going to the new club tomorrow … out on 37? Students can get in half price. I mean, it's just sodas and dancing and stuff, but I think it sounds fun."
"Yeah. It does."
"Um, but … I don't have a ride," she said sweetly. "Maybe we could go … together?"
"Really?! … um … I mean, sure! I'd love … I mean – ugh," he sighed in aggravation. "I'd like that. I'll come pick you up."
Ha! Not on this ride, Buster.
The green SUV did a quick search of MP3s by another group Miko had introduced him to and rolled down her window.
That's my girl – the drunkest at the party!
She lost her shoe and found the rum bacardi.
There she goes. She fell down and she's bleeding.
I tried to help. She's kickin' and she's screamin.'
The drunkest girl that everyone hates.
She's with me, and I'm her date.
I'll drive her home.
(Get her home. Gotta get her ass home.)
And leave her lyin' on her porch.
It had the desired effect of softening the frown on the girl in his passenger seat's face and making the antagonist blush. Miko reclined, propping her feet on the dashboard, relaxing while Jack finished his conversation.
"Uh …" Jack made an admirable effort to ignore the music, but it was very distracting. "What time should I come by?"
"6:30ish?" she offered, already backpedaling.
That's my girl – cross-eyed, drunk, and pukin'
She's down again, and everybody's lookin'
I'll wait 'til she sobers up and
When she's finishing throwin' up,
I'll drive her home
(Get her home. Gotta get her ass home.)
And leave her lyin' on her porch.
Jack cast Miko an annoyed, pleading look, but she only shrugged – like she didn't know him.
He followed after Sierra trying to put some distance between them and the music, but Miko took the liberty of turning it up.
"Right. 6:30. I'll be there."
"Great! See ya tomorrow then."
That's my girl – flirting with your husband.
She threw a drink and screamed she used to fuck him.
I don't mind her getting drunk, but
I'm gonna lock her in my trunk
And take her home
(Get her home. Gotta get her ass home.)
And leaver her lyin' on her porch. *
At least the girl was smiling a little now. Bulkhead rolled up the window as he backed out – his job here complete.
Catch ya later, Cee. Have fun.
Thanks, Bulk, she commed back. Don't forget to save Smokescreen when you get back.
The Wrecker didn't acknowledge.
And now for the fun part.
Alone now, she watched Jack and Sierra exchange their phone numbers and goodbyes, and Jack watched the girl until she rounded the building, out of sight. Arcee witnessed reality catch up to him like a sonic boom behind a Seeker. Even in her alt mode, Jack knew his guardian well enough to know when he was being scowled at.
"Look, I know what you're thinking …"
"Good. Then I won't have to explain why you'll be taking your mom's car tomorrow and why I'm done talking to you."
"Arcee! They'd be curious why I'm hanging out with a girl a grade behind me all the time," he floundered. "I don't want anyone to … suspect … or think anything … weird … is going on. You know?"
Primus forbid anyone began to suspect Miko was his friend and greatest ally, she thought sourly, staying true to her threat.
"Come on, Arcee. Don't be this way," he pleaded. "You're the only reasonable girl … er … woman? Uh … female? The only one I know!"
She unlocked his helmet and started her engine.
The base was strangely quiet when they arrived. Ratchet was immersed in a screen full of data. Raf was doing homework under the yellow scout's watch. The boy looked up at Jack and watched as Arcee transformed.
"Where's Miko?"
"Dunno," Jack said, suddenly full of concern. "They left before we did. Uh … maybe she stopped for dinner or something."
Bumblebee's doorwings rose rigidly, and he scowled at the newcomer giving a few clipped chirps and a hiss of static.
"Bumblebee!" Ratchet scolded, turning from his work to look, shocked, at the younger mech's language.
"You were kind of mean," Raf pointed out unsympathetically.
"I know! I know," Jack defended. "And I'm sorry. I'll apologize when she gets here … and sort it all out."
He was in for more disappointment if he thought that was going to get him out of picking up his date in the Mommy-mobile, Arcee thought.
Ratchet grumbled under his ventilations but took the bait.
"Alright. What happened?"
"Adolescent mating rituals," Arcee offered, typing in her report.
"What?!" Ratchet nearly shouted, servos on his hips. "Jack!"
The boy cringed under the scolding.
"Not with Miko," Arcee clarified, annoyed.
"Oh …" The medic relaxed, but before full relief set in, his brow rose at the femme.
"NOT with Miko," she repeated.
Ratchet frowned. "Oh."
"Seriously?!" Jack began to defend. "It's not really any of you guys' …" He wisely reconsidered completing that sentence. "In the grand scheme of the universe, can me going on a date with Sierra REALLY be that big of a deal?"
Arcee was about to break her vow of silence with her most unreasonable female tirade when the sound of an approaching engine interrupted. Wait … make that two. Bulkhead rolled in through the open door, followed by Wheeljack.
"Where's Miko?"
Bulkhead's already thrumming energy field spiked with frustration and anger as they flipped to their bipedal form.
"She wanted to go home," he stated flatly.
Home. Not for a drive. Not offroading. Not somewhere to crank up loud music without getting into trouble. And certainly not back to base. Home – in time to talk about her day over a gluten-free, vegan dinner with her host parents before they went to bed at eight-thirty.
Ouch. It wasn't a record, Arcee was sure, but cutting a mech to the core with just five harmless little words proved the human femme was no slouch. Well played, Miko Nakadai. Well played.
Bumblebee had decided now was a good time to take Raf to a quieter part of the hangar, and Jack's head had disappeared behind the couch.
Bulkhead vented a heavy sigh through his exhaust and looked at her with pleading optics.
"Could ya … could ya maybe talk to her? Please?"
Scrap. She WAS Jack's guardian – and a femme. By Bulkhead-logic that added up to a perfect fix-all.
"Yeah. You know what it's like being rejected, right?" Arcee crossed her arms with a scowl. She liked Wheeljack-logic even less.
"But, who'll take Jack home?" she asked innocently, unable to resist playing devil's advocate.
"Oh he'll get home," Wheeljack smiled. "We got him covered."
Humans joked about overprotective fathers waiting on porches with firearms for hormonal males to bring their daughters home. There was similar scenario involving Wreckers on Cybertron – only it wasn't so much a joke.
"I guess it couldn't hurt to try," the femme shrugged.
"H … hey, Arcee …" She heard Jack speak up, but the femme only waved and dropped to her wheels, turning on Sadie. "Arcee?!"
"So, Jack." She heard the dangerous, unamused grin in Wheeljack's voice. "How about we hit the road early, and take the scenic route?"
The femme didn't stick around to hear her ward's reply.
Of course it didn't matter what all they did to Jack now. Remorse, an apology, and an invite to the dance with a bouquet of expensive dead vegetation for Miko would be too little too late and interpreted as insincere. But, the mechs could make him squirm if it made them feel better. It certainly didn't dampen her mood any.
And, Arcee would try to smooth over Miko's Wrecker-sized pride. She just wasn't sure how she was going to yet. Since joining the military, the warrior femme had come to prefer the company of mechs because she had so little in common with those of her own gender. But, then again, Miko had proven over and over that she wasn't like other femmes.
Arcee had a suspicion leaving base to go to Miko's house would be a waste. She had wanted to go home where she could be alone to lick her wounds, and Arcee could respect her desire for space. But, one couldn't let any female stew too long on this kind of thing. It certainly couldn't sit until Jack came around and apologized, or they might lose an admittedly valuable asset to their team.
She tried Miko's cellphone as she walked around the hangar and out of sight before Wheeljack and Bulkhead brought Jack out. As she rounded the corner, she saw Ultra Magnus talking with Smokescreen. The mech met her optics and smirked, and she quickly turned around and went the other way, turning off her energy signature for good measure.
Of course Miko didn't answer. Arcee sighed and switched to a different tactic.
HEY. I JUST DIDN'T WANT YOU TO THINK I WAS ON HIS SIDE WITH THIS. IF I WAS, HE WOULDN'T BE ALONE RIGHT NOW WITH 15 TONS OF WRECKER HONOR GUARD.
She paced while she waited … and waited. A heavy set of peds walked away from her position. Unease began to prickle at her. She'd forgotten that Smokescreen could move silently if he had to up until now.
On the other side of the hanger, she heard Wheeljack peel out and the hum of heavy, run-flat tires following after him. Arcee wondered who Jack was stuck riding in. Probably Wheeljack. Bulkhead didn't talk when he was angry, and it would have made the whole ordeal pointless.
THX The message pinging up on her HUD startled her.
Arcee smiled. Well, that was a relief.
YOU GOT TIME FOR A DRIVE? OR HAS YOUR HOST MOM ALREADY TUCKED YOU IN?
Another long, filled pause.
Arcee rounded the corner to go back to the sanctuary of Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Raf's company, but jerked her back to the wall again and into the darkness cast by the security light when she saw Smokescreen's back. She glanced at his shadow and watched it shrink away from her as he walked toward the door.
He stopped in front of the bay door. And, he waited.
Scrap. So much for Ratchet and Bumblebee. But, she saw him, and he didn't see her. This was her game now. If she couldn't outmaneuver him until he gave up, she didn't deserve to call herself a scout.
MAYBE AFTER THEY GO TO SLEEP. ON THE PHONE WITH REAL MOM NOW. TTYL
Real mom? Arcee couldn't think of the last time Miko had even mentioned her real parents back in Japan. It might have been another testament to how deeply Jack had hurt her.
WHENEVER YOU WANT, I'M HERE.
I KNOW. THX RC
She peeked around the corner again. Smokescreen was now inspecting his fingertips for grit and whistling a tuneless song. Arcee smirked. She could've been a glitch and left him there all night and went for a drive, but he'd challenged her now. She was getting in that hangar.
Arcee flickered her energy signature back on for half an instant then went around the back of the building to the side with the security light. A quick data pulse fooled the light into thinking it was daylight, and it went out, casting the hangar doors in relative darkness.
The light glowed back on a moment later, and the mech's tune stopped. Now he wouldn't be sure which side she was on.
Smug, Arcee risked another glance and was startled to find he'd left his post. What the …?
He must have used the cover of darkness to move without his shadow being noticed. He knew she was still watching the entrance, but all she knew now was that he was too. She just didn't know where from.
Got to stop underestimating him, she scolded herself. Okay … He wouldn't leave his view of the door, but he'd be looking for her now.
Arcee heightened her sensors. It was an unfair tactic, but Smokescreen wouldn't know that a femme he'd interfaced with recently would know his spark's pulse rate. It was supposed to be so she could save time later if she decided to sync up and let him merge his spark with hers. THAT wasn't happening, but Arcee could sense if said mech was within a certain range even if he was being stealthy.
She shivered feeling Smokescreen's spark ghost around the edge of her awareness. It had been a while since she'd seen a mech his size move that fast in total silence. Arcee moved in the opposite direction, putting some distance between them. The sensation came back, and she ducked into a shadowed corridor between the buildings.
He nudged at her field again and backed away. Arcee looked around. He was somewhere he could see her, and he was catching on. She couldn't help but grin. Boot camp or not, the Elite Guardsmech had some potential when he put his processor to it.
She waited for him to make a move now. What was his goal anyway? Sure, he wanted 'talk' to her again – Primus help her. Arcee could only hope he would keep trying to catch her alone to make her more comfortable.
Cycles passed. Nothing happened. Did he give up?
Just as she was beginning to feel a twinge of disappointment, the familiar warbling purl of displacing molecules made her jump back with a shriek from the servo that had tried to catch her ped and pull it down into the concrete.
"Cheater!" she laughed, jumping over his helm and shoulders as he was pulling himself out of the ground and shifting to her alt mode.
"Hey!" she heard him shout as she gunned her engine and tore away toward the guard station and open dessert, forgetting all about the safety of the hangar. Before she'd even cleared the first of the buildings, she heard the sound of the mech dropping to his wheels and the squeal rubber on asphalt.
Ha! Think you can catch me?!
If YOU don't cheat again, I know I can, Smokescreen commed back nonchalantly.
She killed her lights and turned on her sonar. It was the middle of nowhere, so there wasn't much risk of civilians seeing two Cybertronians out here … doing what? Arcee refused to think of it as what any other Cybertronian might have misinterpreted the harmless, fun chase as being.
Besides, she didn't want to make it any easier for him. The blue and gold Lotus was already proving impossible to gain any ground on.
Still she swerved around gullies and boulders to keep from 'cheating.' If this wasn't a COMPLETELY harmless chase for fun, it would have been about speed and getting his engine hot and his coolant pumping – not dirty tricks. Arcee would've shaken her helm to get her processor out of the gutter if she hadn't been in her alt mode.
But, hypothetically, if it had been about speed, Smokescreen had plenty to spare. Normally a two-wheeler could leave the heavier-framed alt modes in the dust, but her usual tactic of tight, hairpin turns didn't work on a mech that could corner like a housefly. Her sensors showed the mech was gaining on her. How in the Pit was he so fast? Even Bumblebee couldn't keep up with her without her governor engaged to keep her speed true to her alt mode's stats.
She had to lose him, or she'd be in deeper than a meaningful spark to spark talk.
Arcee let the Lotus creep close enough that her sensors began sending up caution alerts on her HUD. She threw her weight onto her back wheel, rearing up then slammed on her rear break. An instant before the mech slammed into her, she twisted into her bot from and used her servos to handspring off Smokescreens hood and over the car as he was still screeching to a stop.
But, before she could flip back to her alt mode on the ground behind him and speed off while he got turned around and regained his speed, the Lotus' trunk lid caught her in the knees, throwing off her somersault and giving him the instant he needed to unfold and catch her before she hit the ground with her faceplate.
The dust settled.
"Gotcha," he vented smugly.
His engine and the air coming out of his vents was warm, but Arcee was still having to let her fans slow down before she could find the voice to reply. She pushed herself up on his chest, and he grinned up at her.
"You … you got me," she surrendered. She almost didn't believe it. "What … do you … want to talk about … now?"
She dreaded having to answer his question but was too exhausted to even try fighting her way free. The mech considered for a moment.
"How about we talk about us?"
"Us?"
"Us."
BOYS SUCK
Arcee paused. She'd forgotten about Miko, but had to chuckle at the perfect timing.
KID, YOU HAVE NO IDEA
"What's so funny?" Smokescreen asked.
YOU STILL UP FOR THAT RIDE?
She shook her helm. "Nothing. Just … Miko problems. Can I convince you to let me go on parole?"
"Huh? Why?"
"She's gotten herself in a jam, and Bulkhead's busy with something else," she answered truthfully. "I promise when I get back, I'll come find you."
The mech slumped back onto the dirt with a vented sigh. "Promise?"
"I promise. You won't even have to chase me halfway across the county."
"Oh, I didn't mind that part," he smiled. "I haven't had a good run for a long time."
Arcee chuckled, slipping out of his servos as she got to her peds.
"Me neither. It was fun," she admitted.
SURE THING. I'LL BE THERE IN 10.
*"That's My Girl" - The Vandals