I am so sorry this took so long to write. It just wasn't a fun chapter, and I just kept having to walk away from it, rethink, and rewrite it. Maybe it just feels super slow and angsty because I've been looking at it for six and a half weeks, but I promise to make it up to you in the next one. I want to get back to writing happy Smokescreen as much as you want to get back to reading him. Trust me. X_x
UPDATE 17FEB14: I forgot a part in the last section of this where Arcee and Cliffjumper talk about Tailgate before Cliff makes the moves on her.
There was no 'us.'
He was being sweet and exciting, and Arcee wouldn't deny he might have been close to as fine a machine as he'd claimed. Primus, she'd never met a mech that fast, she thought with a shiver. There was NO 'us,' but … he had caught her. She wouldn't race him again, of course, but it was only fair to shadow the Lotus back to base, driving close enough beside him to feel the confidence in his energy field and the pleasant resonance of his still-thrumming spark. Who was around to care anyway?
"Scrap," the mech grumbled. "Ultra Magnus is comming me again." He revved his engine to pull ahead of her. "You could comm me later – if you don't get back late. If you want to, I mean," he added before turning. "You don't have to, I just …"
"Goodnight, Smoke."
"Yeah," he vented. "... night."
She watched him turn off the main road and disappear then chuckled to herself as she drove on, her plating warming a little at the prospect. There was no 'us,' she reminded herself again. But, if he kept playing his cards right, she could possibly be persuaded to take him out alone again – maybe a few more times. That's all it would be though, and that's all he wanted. Smokescreen was just too infatuated with his first-time partner to realize it yet.
"Ahem."
Bots didn't need to clear their throats, but Ratchet had adopted the fitting mannerism.
Arcee froze on her axles.
"Have a nice drive?"
She sank on her wheels as she turned to face the medic who had been hiding in the shadow of the hangar door.
"I trust you didn't overexert yourself – or Smokescreen." The older mech grinned knowingly.
Arcee transformed up to her peds to at least try meeting his optics with some dignity.
"If you're done for the evening, you're overdue for some 'upkeep."
"I have to go get Miko," she began to protest.
"Would you prefer I wait and open your spark case in front of the others? And explain why?" he threatened casually. "It won't take long, and I'll groundbridge you to her neighborhood."
Not waiting for a reply, he turned back into the hangar with a wave for the femme to follow. Arcee vented an aggravated sigh but obeyed and perched on the edge of the medic's exam table.
"I wouldn't have put it off so long, but defragging Smokescreen's maintenance protocols was more pressing."
He smirked at her when she finally had to look up. Her faceplate felt like it might be glowing by now.
"It was only once," she defended preemptively. "AND, nothing happened!"
"Of course not. I know you'd never let anything happen – open up please," he said, tapping her chest plates. "Besides, I saw Smokescreen's spark was unaltered when I checked him anyway."
Timidly, she shifted her plating apart and let her recessed chamber iris open.
"The thing that concerns me," he said, touching his fingers to diode clusters to access her BIOS, "IS that nothing happened."
"Oh Ratchet, do NOT go down that road again," she warned.
"No, no. That's not what I meant. Interfacing – overloading specifically – expends a lot of energy," he explained.
"Yes, thank you, doctor. I recharged through my course in reproduction."
"Part of your caselock's function," he continued undeterred, "was to recycle that energy, but without it …" Arcee flinched at a test charge of electricity. "Without it, the excess energy you produce – and do not use for its intended purpose – is reabsorbed very slowly and inefficiently. If you haven't noticed, we're in a bit of an energon crisis now. And, it's a strain on your systems if you let too much backup."
"So, I won't do it again. Or you could put my lock back on," she suggested. At least with her caselock on, she wouldn't have to hold back. Smokescreen wouldn't have been able to keep his case shut if she'd let her spark surge last time. And, wouldn't it be just wonderful to show him what she could really do.
"No."
Arcee blinked, yanked back from a fantasy vacation to the World of Possibilities.
"What? Why not?"
"For one," the medic sighed, bending to examine her chamber's insulation more closely, "an 'accident' wouldn't exactly be detrimental to our cause – like I said before."
Arcee rolled her optics.
"And, for another, only a medic can remove a case lock," he added more seriously. "After my recent close call, I won't risk sterilizing one of the last femmes we know of."
She jerked under his servos with a startled gasp as what felt like the charge from an entire cube of highgrade surged through her circuits at once.
"But, it's easy enough to discharge it manually," he said, letting her go at last. "So, by all means, don't be afraid to let loose more often. It would do you some good."
Her vents hiccuped as her spark felt like it burned for a second.
"Personally, I think you could do a lot worse than Smokescreen," he smiled. "Though, I don't think it'll do much to mellow out his ego."
"It was only one time!" she insisted as she closed herself. Ratchet arched a brow ridge at her doubtfully. "Cliffjumper was … that mech was a Pit-spawned machine! He didn't understand 'no,' and he got in twice as much trouble if I let him get bored … Stop being such a smug aft about it!" she demanded.
"I didn't say anything," the mech defended with a shrug, but he couldn't wipe the intolerable grin off his faceplate.
"Just … just shut up and get me a groundbridge."
Primus, it was like working with a bunch of giggly school femmes sometimes.
The idea of Bulkhead, covered in mud and brush and blasting Slash Monkey, driving past the white concrete, the ornamental mailboxes, and the perfectly manicured lawns was hilarious. In fact, this whole place was a joke. It was garishly green, like the developer had never seen a desert, and there was a minivan in every driveway. Probably two and a half kids in every terrible mockery of a beige adobe house too.
It was everything that Miko wasn't, and no wonder the girl hated being here.
When Arcee followed her cellphone signal, she almost didn't recognize the person sitting on the curb in jeans and a faded Ninja Turtle t-shirt instead of her usual over-the-top attire and makeup. She looked up, running a hand through her still-wet hair.
"Get lost?" she asked.
"Sorry. Ratchet was being … obstinate."
Miko shook her head and surrendered a small smile.
"It's cool. Bulk and Wheeljack have been sending me pictures," she dismissed as she got to her feet.
"Yeah? Probably not something I should see in case I'm interrogated about reckless disregard for human safety later."
"Probably not," Miko agreed, snapping her phone shut and climbing on behind Sadie's projection.
"Sure you wouldn't rather drive?" she offered as she waited for Miko to tighten Jack's oversized helmet as much as she could.
"I think I look a little underage to be driving a bike."
"You're only underage if they catch us," the femme hummed amused.
Miko looked around. "You mean it?"
Sadie flickered off in reply, and she felt the girl hesitate a moment longer then scoot forward and grab her handlebars.
"Sure we won't get caught?" she asked as Arcee pulled away from the curb. "I'd have two sets of parents going psycho-crazy on me if I got arrested."
"Trust me, I'm way too overcharged right now to deal with cops."
"You mean, like, you're drunk?"
"Different kind of overcharge … well, I guess not really, but … oh never mind. You're safe. Just hang on tight if we see lights."
There wasn't anything like a night drive to clear the processor, and the roads surrounding the military base and wildlife sanctuary were the best place in the universe as far as Arcee was concerned. There was little, if any, traffic. The air was cool and dry, and the night sky stretched from horizon to horizon, completely fee of light pollution
Her passenger relaxed, but her heart rate and the smell of her sweat told Arcee she was still stressed. Pit, she was awful at this. What could anyone say to make something like this sting less?
Frag it, Jack. How could he hurt her like that? Miko had fought beside him. They'd grown and learned together.
It wasn't just a matter of her trust being broken by her partner. Arcee knew that worst of all, Miko felt like she was betraying her trust in herself because not so deep down inside, she still wanted to trust him despite everything.
"I'm sorry, Arcee," she said, breaking the silence. "This must seem so … so petty to you guys."
"What? No!" Arcee insisted. "No. You and Jack are part of this team – an important part. If you can't trust a teammate, much less a partner, it puts everyone at risk. Ask Bulkhead and Wheeljack to tell you about the Wreckers' veto sometime."
She vented a sigh, knowing this wasn't really helping.
"It's not petty – we just don't get as excited about it as you humans do."
She didn't need to mention that was true because human teenagers would be over it in a matter of days – maybe weeks at most. Or that a human lifetime wasn't even a long enough breakup to justify decent makeup interfacing.
"You and Jack make great partners, and we don't want to lose that element of our team."
"So, you're saying I should just get over it?"
Arcee revved her engine, making Miko lurch in the seat unsteadily.
"That's not fair, Miko," she accused. "Jack's the one in the wrong, I'll admit, but sometimes we've just got to find some middle ground and swallow our pride."
Miko had no reply, but her silence was as good as accusing Arcee of not understanding. Slag it all. Bulkhead owed her big time.
Her sensors picked up the girl's stomach growling, but Miko wasn't going to say anything of course. Fine. She'd feed her and take her home. That should be long enough to claim she'd tried.
Miko's stress pheromones heightened, and her grip on the handlebars get tighter. Arcee assumed she was crying behind the helmet's visor.
She vented heavily.
"Remember me telling you about Cliffjumper?"
Of course she did, but Miko stayed quiet. Well, at least she wouldn't interrupt her.
"I … sort of gave you the abbreviated version." she confessed. "Cliff was able to find me in Airachnid's lair, because he had my private frequency. He had my frequency because I thought he was a nice guy and I could trust him, but … he took what he wanted and never looked back."
She felt Miko relax a little.
"Everyone made their assumptions about us, and I never thought anyone needed to know the truth. Now that he's gone, I really don't want anyone to know that about him or remember him for it. But, I can trust you not to tell."
For a long time Miko remained quiet, but she was curious by nature, and this was too much to resist.
"So, you had to get over it," she concluded the moral of the story.
"I did. When Starscream dragged him out to bargain for his life though, I almost laughed. But, our situation made it hard to hold a grudge."
Her optics onlined in a cell to the sounds of Starscream shouting and Cliffjumper screaming. She winced as her spark stung for the mech. Primus, no one deserved what he was going through. Another bellow of agony made her cringe and try in vain to shield her audios.
How long had they been at it? How much longer could he last?
If she'd been closer, she might have tried offering him what little comfort she could with her energy field, but the sound and the agony in his field would have driven her insane.
Cliffjumper screamed again in jarring spasms as his vocalizer cut out from overuse. Frag it! She'd tell them everything!
But, before she could start banging on the door of her cell, Cliffjumper's cries fell silent. Was he dead? She listened, moving back to the wall closest to the room he was being tortured in.
"Cliff …?"
The silence dragged out insufferably.
She jumped when the cell door banged open. Two troopers threw the limp frame in onto the floor. Oh, Primus …
"Cliffjumper?" She knelt beside him to inspect what damage had been done.
Please. Not again.
He finally groaned, panting through his vents as his systems rebooted.
"Are you …"
"I …" he tried to push himself up to face her. "I can't … I can't believe you actually care!" he said, lifting his helm easily to smile at her.
Arcee was so relieved she wanted to rip his circuits out and strangle him with them. Fragging slaghole!
"The only thing I 'care' about is whether or not you talked just now."
"Are you always this nice to your rescuers?"
She watched him as he got to his peds and inspect the cell. Like she wouldn't have found a way out by now if there was one.
"Didn't answer my question," she pointed out.
He shrugged. "I got bored with Starscream's little workout. So, I idled my engines and faked shutdown. Scream bought it."
Yeah right. That hadn't sounded like a fake shutdown. But, whatever.
"How did you wind up here?"
"Intercepted some chatter about a Decepticon operation on the old home planet. So I follow the trail and find Starscream shipping massive amounts of nergon here to Cybertron." He turned to look at her. "What's your story?"
She bristled. He knew her story. It hadn't changed since the last time they'd met.
"Same."
"You're quite the conversationalist," he pointed out knowingly. "I'm starting to get the impression you're not too happy to see me."
Yeah well … She tugged at the door again for the sake of looking busy. What was she supposed to say?
"Arcee … I'm sorry about before … I …"
"Save it," she cut him off. "We're not getting offlined tonight."
She didn't want to hear his apologies anyway.
"It's not like that, it's …"
"It's nothing," she said firmly. He shut his mouth, meeting her optics. "It doesn't matter."
The mech vented, sitting down heavily. "Yeah. Fine, you're right."
"Just … get some recharge," she said. "See if you can heal up any before they come back."
Cliffjumper patted the floor beside him.
"You should stay close – for when they do."
"I'm fine."
"Then I'm fine too," he shrugged.
"Don't be …"
"You know as well as I do they won't offline a femme. They didn't scrap me because they think you'll talk to save me." He chuckled dryly at the idea. "I'm only here now so you could see me alive one more time. When they come back, they'll take you first so you don't see what happens to me."
Arcee studied him, catching up to the cheerful mech's suddenly cold logic.
"But, I sure as the Pit ain't going down without a fight. So stay close, and I'll buy you an opening."
What other options did she have? Arcee surrendered and sat beside him, curling into a defensive ball without touching him. He closed his optics and relaxed with remarkable ease for one who'd be offline in a matter of cycles.
She didn't want him to be scrapped. She didn't want him to get off that easy! He didn't have the right to die a Pit-damned hero like he wanted – AND make her feel sorry!
A servo touched her arm, and a comforting energy field nudged at her. Arcee couldn't shake it off or she'd be the biggest, cold-sparked glitch in the universe. So instead, she scooted over against the mech's warm plating and tried to relax for him and share the comfort back and forth.
And, she attempted to accept that she was going to lose yet another mech who was 'real.'
It couldn't have been more than a few cycles, but it felt like she stood vigil for days in the darkness. The sound of peds on metal interrupted the drone of the ship's engines and the sounds of Cliffjumper's recharging cycle. She nudged him awake, and they listened together for a moment as the footsteps got closer to the cell door.
"Four troopers at most," he breathed, barely audible.
"And Starscream. We can take that many together."
He shook his helm firmly. "Worry about your own aft this time. I mean it. Shut off your signature, and be ready."
The door unlocked and slid back, revealing the Seeker's silhouette.
"Now, doesn't that just warm the spark?" he purred. "You Autobots get far too attached to your comrades if you ask me."
She felt Cliffjumper tense and coiled her strength in her legs beneath her. They'd only get one chance.
"Get the cuffs on them quickly. We have an appointment to keep."
Arcee didn't have time to decide what he meant before the first two vehicons were bending towards their huddled forms.
The veteran mech exploded, launching himself off the wall. He grabbed the first trooper by the collar and used his weight to yank it down to meet his helm with enough force to shatter the optic visor. Blinded, it stumbled back, freeing Cliffjumper to charge the second, locking his arms around it and using it as a battering ram to crush the Seeker into the wall.
Starscream snarled at the pain in his wings and shoved back, throwing the crushed vehicon aside and striking at Cliffjumper. She didn't see if he hit him, too busy springing onto another trooper's shoulders by the door who was still dumbstruck. The conduits in his neck snapped with one practiced twist, and she leaped off of him before he crumpled and used the gained momentum to hit the last mech between her and the door with both peds in the chest.
She hit the floor of the corridor at a sprint. If she could get outside of the ship, they'd never find her tiny profile in space, and she could call for a pickup.
"No!" she heard Starscream shriek. "You fools! Get her!"
Did that mean he was done with Cliffjumper?
No time to look. She was worrying about her own aft. If he had been offlined, she couldn't let his sacrifice be wasted.
The femme skidded around a corner and into a darker corridor where she could pause and get her bearings for a klik. She was probably closer to the airlocks down here on the lower levels, but she had no idea which direction she should be moving or what doors to try. Everyone knew the flight deck was on the bow of the Nemesis, but there was a whole LOT more ship between there and her current position.
A patrol of vehicons raced by, checking the halls, but Arcee pressed herself into the shadows behind a mechanical chase. Good thing troopers couldn't find their aft with both servos and GPS, she thought smugly.
Maybe 'up' wasn't so ridiculous an option. They'd not expect her to go that way. Or, she could follow them right to where they thought she'd run.
The femme crept back to the main hallway to check for anyone else. She just had to stay quieter than her prey and they'd get sloppy – or stay sloppy, in this case.
"Too easy," she whispered seeing the coast was clear.
Arcee snuck out to dart to the cover of the next corridor, but tripped over her immobile ped when she tried to move. What the …?! She looked to see what she was tangled up in and gasped when the metal coil constricted around her ankle joint and lifted her off the floor, upside down. Another cable caught her arms and held the thrashing femme at a safe distance from its owner's unreadable black visor.
A sound file opened up, and her own voice mocked her "Too easy."
Arcee slumped. "Oh, shut up."
She was carried back the way she'd come, and Starscream brightened at the sight of her.
"Ah. Well done, Soundwave. Arcee wouldn't have wanted to miss our little day trip to the surface. Put her on the transport with the other."
Other? Relief washed over her when she spotted Cliffjumper in cuffs and an immobilizing collar, but his optics fell with disappointment. She could see all the new dents and gouges in his plating.
"Sorry," she sighed as she was cuffed to the seat.
"Nah, don't worry about it. Screamer could still frag this up." He looked up to smile at her. "And besides, you get the pleasure of my company a little longer."
"I think I'd rather disconnect my audios and get some recharge."
She smirked when the mech's face fell theatrically, but he didn't object when she rested back against the cold hull and shuttered her optics.
How's Miko doing? Bulkhead commed, disrupting her thought process.
Fortunately, all the humans they dealt with understood what it meant when a bot just trailed off.
She's fine, Bulk. Just needed some asphalt therapy.
Oh good. There was genuine relief in the mech's voice. Does she got her phone on her?
Yeah. Why? she asked suspiciously.
Jack's had a change of spark, Wheeljack announced proudly. And, he's got one phone call to make this right. Miko might want to pick up.
You do know forcing him to apologize doesn't make him mean it, right?
Yeah sure, I know. But, Miko deserves to hear it.
Arcee vented a sigh, glancing down at the girl who was picking green onions out of a box of noodles with a pair of sticks and watching trucks pass on the interstate below.
I just now got her talking again. Don't frag it up, she warned.
Sir, no sir.
And, cut that out! Ultra Magnus is SIC now.
But you still outrank me, the white Wrecker reasoned. And, I'll always prefer following your aft instead of his.
Oh, for the love of … Just tell Jack to call!
She could almost sense his amusement over the commlink, but he didn't reply again before Miko's phone began ringing.
"It's Jack," Arcee said. "Wheeljack insists you humor him."
"I still don't have anything to say to him," she dismissed, looking to confirm the caller ID.
"He didn't say you had to talk to him – just answer."
Miko rolled her eyes, annoyed, but flipped the phone open.
"What?" Arcee bent closer even though she'd already tapped into the signal.
"Miko! Hey!" Jack seemed to gasp, sounding strained. "Uh … about earlier. The thing with Sierra and all …"
"Seriously – like you had to specify what thing," she huffed. "What about it?"
"I … I shouldn't have said that. It was stupid … and selfish … and I wasn't thinking andI'mReallySORRY!" he blurted out all at once.
If Arcee had to guess from the strain in his voice and the rhythm of his intakes, she'd say Jack was being held upside down.
Miko was supposedly unappeased by the offering, but her stress levels were lowering quickly.
"Really really?" she asked doubtfully.
"Really … really."
She was fighting a grin now.
"Really REALLY really?"
"Miko! Yes! Now … can I … can I please go home?"
"You're asking me?" she scoffed.
"They said … Wheeljack says I can't go home … until you feel better."
"Mmm. That's unfortunate."
"Miko …" he growled. "Wait! No! Stop! Hang on!" he pleaded to someone away from the phone. "Please. Just tell them to take me home."
"But, I don't feel better," she reasoned smugly. "My best friend ditched me for Psycho Sierra like I was yesterday's garbage!"
"I'm sorry. Really!"
"Well … I'm not convinced."
"Convinced?! How could I ever convince you?! Don't be stu … WHOA! Whoa! Okay," he consoled. "How could I convince you?" he asked again, less rhetorically.
"Hmm …" Miko thought about it, dragging out the tension just a few moments beyond unbearable. "How about – if you're really sorry – you call Sierra, right now, and apologize to HER for how badly you treated your friend in front of her today."
"Oh … umm … okay. Right now?"
"I said you got ONE phone call," Wheeljack interrupted.
"But …!" Jack began to protest.
"You're not hanging up on Miko, are you?" Bulkhead asked.
"I guess … not?"
"That's right, you're not. I'll get Sierra on here for you," Wheeljack offered helpfully. "This way, there won't be any … 'misunderstandings.'"
Before Jack could argue, another line on the conference call began to ring.
"Hope you thought of what to say," Bulkhead jabbed before the line picked up.
"Hello?"
"Hey! Uh … hi, Sierra."
"Jack? Is that you?"
"Yeah. How's things? I mean … since we left school."
"Well … okay, I guess. How are you? You sound tired."
"Oh that … Just … out … for a jog … at night. Helps with stress. Anyway!" he quickly veered the conversation back on track. "About earlier. I called because … because I wanted to apologize."
"Apologize? You can't make it to the dance?"
"Well, that's still … up in the air. Actually, I wanted to say how VERY sorry I am for how I treated Miko."
"What?" she laughed. "Why?"
"I do know Miko. She's my friend, and I didn't want you to think I treat my friends like that … just because a pretty girl is talking to me."
Miko rolled her eyes, but didn't call him out on it. Arcee thought she felt her stress level spike again, but it quickly dissipated.
"Oh. Well, that's … okay?" Sierra smiled. "It's really sweet that you care so much. Miko needs a friend."
Suddenly the stress surged like a volcano, but aside from the blood rushing to Miko's cheeks, her features remained dangerously placid.
"Yeah," Jack had to agree timidly. "I'll let you get back to your evening then."
"Okay … I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Sure! Goodnight."
"Night, Jack."
Silence stretched out after the click.
"I think you could've worded it a little better," Wheeljack finally commented. "Do you feel any better, Miko?"
The girl sighed tightly, collecting herself.
"He did what I asked. Let him go home."
"You sure?" Bulkhead asked.
"Miko, I'm really sorry," Jack said again. This time, he just might have had the hint of sincerity in his voice, Arcee thought.
"Whatever. Have fun at your dance."
The silence was so heavy, Arcee wished there was some static or something to break it up.
"I could take you instead."
The girl beside her almost physically bristled.
"Get fragged. I have OTHER friends I'm going with."
"Miko, I …"
She snapped the phone shut on him.
That … didn't go so well, Wheeljack admitted.
You think? What in the Pit did you expect?
Is she okay? Bulkhead asked, worried all over again.
Great. So great in fact, she was crying again. Ugh – mechs!
I'll talk to her. Take Jack home – right now. And, neither of you bring this up again, EVER. Got it?
Got it, they commed with a collective grumble.
She disconnected the line with finality and looked back down at Miko.
"Sorry, Miko. Do you want me to just take you home?"
Miko sniffed, scrubbing her face on her sleeve. "You're not going to tell me what happened?"
Arcee smiled slightly.
"Sure. If you want, I'll tell you on the drive back."
"Yeah. Please," she said, getting up and picking up her trash.
"Well, you already know we escaped Soundwave's lab and Starscream …
"Going somewhere?" Cliffjumper asked almost accusingly.
"To take down a space bridge," she explained curtly.
"Without me?"
Yes, without him – a thousand times yes. She vented irritably. "This'll require stealth not … chatter."
"Oh, you mean the chatter that distracted Starscream long enough for you to free yourself."
Frag it. Why this mech of all the bots she could have gotten stuck with?!
Fine. Better he was with her and she knew what he was doing rather than being off who-knows-where trying his own heroics and ruining her plans. He was coming with her whether she wanted him to or not anyway.
"Just … try not to slow me down."
Getting down to the tunnels was the easy part. None of Shockwave's guards were looking for someone breaking out of his lab – at least, not until they found Starscream. But, Cliffjumper's heavy peds on the metal made him about as stealthy as a transit express.
"You know where you're going?"
If he doubted her, why follow her?
"My unit used these tunnels during the war," she assured. "They're part of Old Cybertron."
There was only one place big enough down here to house a spacebridge that already had the insulation to contain its energy signature. She paused at an old bulwark, calculating the best way to get over it without making a sound. Cliffjumper jumped up after her without a second thought.
"The sooner we blow up the bridge, the sooner we can join up with Optimus Prime," he decided.
Then that definitely meant he had a ship to get off of Cybertron. There would be others who'd jump at the chance to get off the dead planet with him and regroup with the prime. But, she could wait a little longer. There was still plenty of things here that needed to be monitored – like Shockwave, for example.
"Give him my regards."
"Did you not hear Prime's message? He needs us?"
"Teamwork isn't my thing," she confessed truthfully. "After we finish this, you and I go our separate ways."
Primus couldn't be sick enough in the processor to cross their paths a third time.
"Whatever you say, partner."
That was too much. How dare he? She stopped to face him, unable to keep the animosity out of her energy field.
"Let's get one thing straight," she warned with dangerous calm. "You are not my partner."
But, the red mech didn't back down. He'd known all along how to play her.
"Arcee … I know it's rough," he consoled too gently. "I really do."
She turned away, angry at herself.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she bit.
"Tailgate."
Arcee flinched as if he'd shot her through the spark.
"Closing yourself off from feeling won't help anyone."
He didn't know slag.
"'Anyone' being anyone I cared to help," she clarified venomously, punching in the code to open a secret stairway up to the next level.
"You helped me back there," the mech reminded.
"We are on the same side, in case you don't remember. What was I supposed to do? Leave you?"
"At least it's a start," she heard him smile behind her.
She didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply.
"I know it's hard to believe after Tailgate and Vaccine, but not every bot you get to know is going to get offlined."
Right. And, next he was going to tell her they weren't sneaking around in the rusty bowels of their dead planet, outnumbered a thousand to one by their rusting comrades.
"Arcee? Are you even listening to me?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Of course you do. You could abandon the mission and leave me to frag it up somehow," he smiled.
She ignored him.
He vented, irritated – with her or his terrible efforts, she couldn't tell.
"You're a good soldier. And, Starscream hit the rivet on the head," he said with a shrug, climbing up a ladder after her. "Optimus Prime needs any help he can get. A good scout would be a valuable asset."
They came to a locked gate. It had an electronic lock, but if there was a keycard for it, it looked like it had been lost long before the war. He watched in tense silence for a few precious moments as she pulled the faceplate off the box and sorted through the wires.
"When did you leave Delta Team?"
She glanced up at him then back to the wires, pulling two free.
"Was it long after Tailgate?"
"Please stop talking; I'm trying to think."
She sent a pulse of energy through the bypass to the mechanism, and by some miracle, heard it unlock.
"Help me get this open."
Instead of helping, the mech grabbed the bars and yanked the doors apart on their un-oiled tracks with a hellacious screech that echoed through the tunnels, making her cringe. The mech only grinned at her like she should've been impressed. Arcee rolled her optics. She was really beginning to regret not leaving him strapped to that lab table.
"Did you even go back after they patched you up?" he went on. She had her energy signature turned off, but he should not have needed her energy field to realize she was annoyed and angry.
"If you MUST know, it was the team left me," she surrendered. "Not that there was really left to count as a 'team' anymore. There were sixty of us when I joined Delta Team and less than a dozen of them were left to decide I should stay behind. Tell me again how my friends aren't getting scrapped. You have no idea how hard it is."
Cliffjumper's expression sobered, and Arcee turned away again.
"Losing fifty bots you know hurts," he agreed. Cliffjumper vented heavily. "It hurt when I saw a hull breach suck out half my crew into a radiation storm. It hurt when me and my entire platoon got cut off and 'sacrificed' to the Con's main defenses to buy a luckier group the opening they needed to break through. I watched my first partner get shot through his CPU – right between the optics. He was always a lucky piece of slag though. Didn't hit anything vital. So, I sat with him, stranded from our group, in a sniper nest for a week and watched him bleed out and glitch until he got his hand cannon back on and finished it."
Arcee paused and looked back at him, ashamed. He'd been a veteran even before the Great War was thought of. How could he NOT know what she'd been through?
"Did you ever have a traitor in your team? That's the worst. You've got no idea who's killing who until its down to you, a rookie, and the mech you graduated from basic with. On that note, have you ever had to shoot a friend you graduated from basic with?"
Just the idea made her energon run cold.
"You think it's just easier if you don't care anymore. Just fight. Follow orders. Kill Cons. Trust me," he assured. "I tried. But, after a while, you'll start to slip. You lose touch with what you're fighting for. So, you look for anything to grab onto – for anchors – just to get you by until your time's up. And, you wind up hurting them as bad as any Con would when you can't care about them either."
He met her optics.
"I'm sorry, Arcee. Even if we do make it through this, I still wanted you to know that."
Arcee killed her engine in the alleyway behind Miko's house and settled onto her kickstand.
"So you forgave him?" Miko asked before pulling the helmet off.
Arcee would have shrugged if she was in her bipedal mode.
"Not exactly. Like you said, I just … got over it. He was my teammate and my partner; I had to."
Miko slid off of her seat and walked around to face her headlight.
"That's not a very satisfying moral to the story, you know."
"I never said it would be," she countered. "I think telling you to make peace before someone kills your friend would've been a little over the top for this scenario."
"Yeah. I'm not really THAT mad at Jack," she said. "I better get back to my room. See you tomorrow?"
Arcee's energy field hummed warmly for the child even though the human couldn't feel it. "Yes. Goodnight, Miko."
"Night." She turned to go, but paused and looked back. "And, thanks. Cliffjumper's secret's safe with me."
"Good."
"Hey, at least it kept it simple between you guys, right? I mean, if me and Jack were 'just friends' instead of him pretending not to notice I liked him and me kidding myself – scrap like this wouldn't matter. You think Raf would care if Jack brushed him off to talk to a girl?"
Arcee chuckled. "I guess that's one way of looking at it."
"Anyway," she dismissed. "It's been a long day. I'll talk to you later."
Arcee waited for her to disappear over the top of the privacy fence before turning on Sadie and starting her engine again.
It would've been nice if Miko was right.
The humans called it snow. It was bizarre how water was so abundant on this planet in all of its states. It was kind of a glitch to get used to driving on, but she definitely liked snow more than ice and especially more than frost. Watching the little white tufts of crystals fall out of the night sky and how all sound seemed muffled when they covered the ground was so peaceful.
She heard an engine and tires on the quarry road. Of course, no one on this team could leave her alone for any amount of time, Cliffjumper most of all.
She listened as the mech transformed to his peds, and he sat down heavily beside her.
"You know Doc would have a glitching fit if he knew you were out in this stuff."
Arcee looked up at him, disturbing some of the snow that had gathered on her armor. Steam rose from the mech's vents and warm plating, and water droplets from the melting flakes were already beginning to collect on him.
"It's not cold enough to worry about," she dismissed, setting her chin back on her knees.
For a few quiet moments, they watched the snow swirl on the ice below.
"Just felt like being a snowfemme, or is something on your processor?"
"Just wanted some peace and quiet," she hinted. But, like always with Cliffjumper, it fell on deaf audio receptors.
He vented sigh, letting a few of the large snowflakes land on his fingertips. "Nothing like this stuff back home. Kinda weird if you ask me."
Arcee hummed, noncommittally. He'd gladly talk at her if she didn't feel like making the effort, and tonight she did not.
"Think we'll ever get back? I mean, nothing against this place, but home's home – even if it is a bombed out husk of rusty metal. Right?"
"Hmm." Her optics had slid shut.
"There aren't even Cons here so we can at least pretend to be fighting a war. Even with Optimus, I think the odds are against us."
"Hmm."
"We'll just park it until the energon runs out, rusting from boredom. I knew I shouldn't have left the space front."
"Hmm."
The mech fell silent again. Arcee had almost drifted off into a half-recharge when she felt him brushing his energy field against hers. Not invasively – just wanting to feel another bot's presence and reassure himself he wasn't alone.
Or maybe he was reassuring her this time.
"Are you ignoring me?" she heard him smile.
She opened her optics enough to glance up at him. "Trying to."
He said nothing and looked back up at the clouds. She almost fell back into her nap again.
"You've been missing Tailgate?"
She tried harder.
"I heard you crying last night."
He might have been lying. But, all of her recharge cycles blurred together in an indistinguishable mashup of not recharging and dreaming about not recharging. She couldn't keep track of what happened on which one.
"Am I not allowed to miss him?"
"Not if you keep pushing everyone else away."
"I am not in the market for a new mech. Weren't you there when I exploded at Ratchet about that?"
Of course he'd been there. All of them had she thought with embarrassment – even the human called Fowler. The medic had 'suggested' the new femme be kept on base where it was safe, and she'd declared (i.e. nearly bit his helm off) that she was not going to sit around and rust. And, more importantly, she was NOT getting passed around like some breeder bot.
"That's not what I'm implying" he defended. "You know no one would try to replace Tailgate. No one could."
Arcee nodded and brushed the snow off her face.
"I saw him once – at least, I think it was him.
She looked up at him again. "Where?"
"At the spaceport in Iacon. I saw you first. Thought about saying hi – and letting you kick my tailpipe in like I deserved, but … then he showed up," he recalled, laughing softly. "Blue and white, kind of the plain, generic-looking kind of frame. And, he was super jealous of any mech that looked twice at you. I figured I'd better stay out of it."
"Yeah. That was Tailgate alright." Arcee smirked at the memory. She'd gone to that port a hundred times, always with her partner. "It always used to get under my protoskin when he'd get that way."
"But, you looked happy with him," Cliffjumper pointed out. "He must've been a special mech to win you over."
"He was," she surrendered. "He was sweet and patient, and … he never gave himself any credit – like you said. I had to come onto him, and even then he was convinced I was making some sort of mistake for the longest time."
"He knew a mech like him never would've been able to get close to a femme like you before the war," Cliffjumper chuckled. "Sounds like he was a bot worth missing. And, he wouldn't have wanted you to be miserable for him."
"I know," she admitted. "It's just … hard not to … when I'm alone."
"You don't have to be alone though. That's what I meant."
He vented a last puff of warm exhaust through his systems. "I know you're gonna take this the wrong way, but … you know there's ways to help," he suggested more softly.
Her optics widened when an entirely different emotion took the place of the comfort in his energy field. She straightened, shaking the snow off with a flourish. But, he caught her before she could get up and get away.
"Hey, hey! Hear me out!" he insisted, laughing as he pulled her back down.
"Cliffjumper! They will never find your chassis if you even …"
"Why not?" he grinned. "How else are we gonna stay out of trouble on these long, pointless patrols?"
"I can stay out trouble just fine," she insisted.
"But I can't. You like me before. And, I STILL think you're one irresistible piece of work," he grinned. "Everyone thinks it's what we're doing anyway. It's a win-win situation. I don't get speeding tickets, and you get my undivided attention."
"I HARDLY call that a deal," she scoffed.
"Only because I was rushed the last time. You'll change your tune if you give me a twelve-hour patrol shift to work with."
"NO."
"Come on, Arcee. You're spark hurts, and you know how to make it feel better – same as I do."
"And, there are four other mechs back at base to choose from if I get desperate. Why in the Pit would I interface with a slaghole like you again?
He shrugged. "Because I'm ruggedly handsome with a charming personality?"
She shoveled a servo-full of snow at his face and tried to make a break for it again, but he caught her ped and dragged her back.
"Because mine hurts too," he said, more seriously. "And, they won't understand like I do – that you're just looking for quick fix. Not a new mech to replace Tailgate."
Arcee sat up to meet his optics.
"Think about it," he offered. "I won't bring it up again, but you think about it the next time your spark wakes you up at night."
Next chapter – lots more Smokescreen. I'll try not to even mention Cliffjumper. Cross my heart!