Redline
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Part 7
The craziest thing about watching a machine drive was that it was so smooth. As Optimus exited the NEST base by way of a nicer, much more broken-in road than the way her and Bee had come earlier, Mikaela observed that the Autobot leader was the smoothest she'd seen yet—even Bee, who didn't have to deal with a massive Peterbilt for an alternate form (complete with sixteen speeds and a lowered chassis, to boot), just didn't feel the same to cruise around with as Optimus Prime did.
The semi was just so graceful about it. It was almost poetic to watch, she thought as he upshifted perfectly every single time. Picking up speed with a low diesel growl, the huge Peterbilt rolled over the rough dirt road as easily and smoothly as though it were made of freshly-paved asphalt, his shocks absorbing every little bump.
It was mesmerizing.
It reminded her of watching her father drive, long before she had been old enough to learn herself. Riding along with Cal, she used to swear that she could feel it sometimes, even just as a passenger—through the connection her body had with the seat and her feet had with the floorboards, she'd sense Cal's ability to automatically win the 'allegiance' of any machine with just a tap of the gas and a twinge of the steering wheel. It was beyond just a regular driver/machine-type thing—he could bend the will of any automobile with the rich contrast between its cold steel and his own experienced, organic hands with just a touch, and that was goddamned beautiful.
And when it had come time for Mikaela to learn, she had bonded with them, too—as she had inherited the 'gift'. It was this certain way mechanics had with their machines that could not always be learned. It was the ability to 'listen' to them, to 'feel' them deeply—much like a sixth sense—that formed the basis for this link—something that Mikaela felt strongest with her own motorcycle, which she'd secretly named Valour for 'her' agility and seemingly endless ability to drive far, and drive fast.
It could be such an intimate feeling, sometimes—in the dead of night when she'd take her bike out for a long night ride, when the air was cool and would whip around her and the seat beneath her would thrum deeply with Valour's mechanical heartbeat, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing to stop the pair of them from going as far for as long as they'd pleased—
And it was through the depth of her skill and this knowledge that Mikaela could sense the level of sheer coordination and gracefulness that was evident in all of Optimus Prime's movements. The truck around her absolutely radiated experience. As she'd witnessed briefly in the Mission City battle, Optimus Prime had more prowess and power than any of the other Autobots—the prowess and power of a Prime—and there was just something about being completely surrounded by this feeling that made him undeniably sexy to watch.
Optimus was silent as they hit the highway. Mikaela barely registered the rather smooth transition between gritty, gravel road and the aged, worn asphalt of the interstate as he made a wide right and used the shoulder merge lane to accelerate. She felt the whole cab rumble as the semi slipped into a higher gear and emitted a heavy diesel growl that bled straight from the engine out into the floorboards, her seat, and up the long shaft of the gearstick which wobbled slightly before upshifting.
"Tell me, Mikaela," came Optimus's resonating voice over the radio, pitched an octave so deep and strong that it had no trouble being heard over the increasingly loud vibration of the engine. "Do you like to drive fast?"
They were nearing the end of the merge lane and the highway in front of them was straight for as far as the eye could see. She mirror-checked out of habit and saw that the long expanse of road behind them was clear of cars. "You have to ask?" smirked Mikaela, raising an eyebrow at the rearview. "What do you think, Optimus Prime?"
"I think I will take that answer as a 'yes'," he chuckled. "You may want to hold on. Feel free to make full use of the handles available for your convenience."
Yeah right, thought Mikaela, remembering how long it usually took rigs of this size to shift up to speed on the highway. "Excuse me, but," she replied saucily, "I don't think I'll be needing those, especially not in a rig the size of—ohgod—"
With a loud roar, Mikaela found herself thrust backward into the seat as Optimus pinned the accelerator and the semi took off with so much force that the nose of the Peterbilt rose and she felt the front wheels leave the pavement for a split second. The gearstick was a blur as he upshifted faster and with more accuracy than a human ever could, and the only thing that Mikaela had the time to wonder was whether or not drag-racing big rigs was a thing—and to vow that, if it was, she'd better never tell Optimus.
"Holy shit!" she gasped, clinging to the aforementioned handles. Optimus just laughed.
They were moving so fast that the broken yellow dividing line appeared to blur into a single, solid colored one. They were racing through a near-endless country of golden-brown wasteland dotted with little tufts of greenish, khaki-brown plants and cacti dying under an equally-endless, faultless blue sky. The blinding sun beat down from behind them as a tail of desert dust and diesel smoke trailed through their massive slipstream, unsettling the hordes of dead tumbleweeds that resided on the edge of the highway's cracked shoulder.
"You were saying?" said Optimus, his voice carrying over the roar of his engine.
"Optimus, roll down the windows!"
As the Autobot obliged her, Mikaela felt the last of her reservations and nervousness leave her completely from the incoming rush of hot desert air mixed with the buzz of adrenaline from the Peterbilt's impressive speed. The Autobot's heavy musk that had filled the cab since she'd climbed in was wiped away by the smell of baking asphalt and bone-dry dust and Mikaela breathed in so deeply it hurt; craving the feeling of the wind on her face, she leaned partly out of the window.
"This is amazing!" she cheered loudly.
She was deaf to the world—she could not even hear the sound of his engine over the roar of the wind—the Peterbilt towered over the asphalt, dwarfing the oncoming cars it passed, and Mikaela could swear that she'd never felt more wild and powerful and free, not even with Valour. Her heart beat accelerated just like Optimus had, joyous butterflies exploding in her belly in place of what had once been unpleasant nerves—she was lost in it, caught up in the rush of driving fast.
"I take it you are enjoying this," Optimus observed, sounding pleased.
"Ha ha!" Mikaela laughed, pumping her fist outside the window. "Hell yes!"
God, she thought as she finally ducked back inside of the cab, It's been forever since I felt like this!
The heady concoction of adrenaline and excitement pumping through her veins was enticing to say the least. And oh, it just made her even more aware of just how strongly the Peterbilt rumbled as it sped along and exactly how much it caused her chair to vibrate—it made her feel recklessly headlong, and she craved more, more; she so wanted to take over.
The idea of doing so became tantalizingly irresistible. Every part of her was burning for it, itching restlessly; she was unable to keep still. She grabbed at his steering wheel, stroking it longingly, her feet wandering toward the pedals as she groaned.
"Oh, Optimus Prime, are you ever going to let me drive this thing?"
"Just a little further," Optimus said, somewhat complacently. "Have patience, Mikaela."
"Easy for you to say," she sighed, trying her best to relax into the seat, but the ever-present vibration from the Peterbilt's huge engine was still shaking the rig and she found herself baring her teeth. God damn it. She settled for stroking the wheel some more, with both hands gripping just firmly enough to pretend like she were going to try to take control without actually doing so. "But hurry up, you silly truck."
Don't make me wait or I'm gonna have to beg you… the dirty joke went through her mind, but she thought better of saying it aloud. She'd teased the Autobot leader almost enough (she didn't want to push it too far, because while Bee and Sam knew her well enough to know that she could be more than a little sassy sometimes, she just didn't know Optimus well enough yet to really try pushing his buttons). "You make it look so easy, you know, I almost can't resist," she said instead, watching him closely as she smiled suavely into the rearview.
But if the teasing bothered Optimus, he did not show it. In fact, he played along with the joke better than she had expected, never missing a beat. "Do you mean to say," he teased back in a rather low voice that somehow still managed to rumble through the entire cab, "that you find this old truck to be… 'irresistible'?"
"Oh my god." She couldn't help but flush. "Well, let me get my hands on you first, and then we'll see, won't we?"
"That sounds pretty good to me."
She almost choked. "Really?"
"Yes, really. As I said before, I have complete confidence in your driving abilities, Mikaela."
"That's pretty strong talk, Optimus Prime," giggled Mikaela, grinning into the mirror. "I'm starting to think that the only reason you're so well-behaved around the other 'bots is cause they keep you in check."
"Of course not," he chuckled. "But it is very rare that I have the opportunity to… relax somewhat. It is not usually an option for me to, ah…"
"…Have some fun?"
"Yes. That would be one way to put it."
"All right, Optimus," she challenged, hardly noticing that the Peterbilt had settled back into a more reasonable pace. "That's it. Before we go back to base, I want you to relax and just be you, you hear me? I want to see the real Optimus Prime out here… no more Mister-Stressed-Out-Autobot-Boss, kay? I think both of us could benefit from unwinding a little bit. Current events have been starting to get to me, too."
The Peterbilt did not immediately have an answer for her, but the cab was filled with the very strong sensation that he was watching her closely. "It is true that I have not taken a drive to myself in… longer than I can remember," Optimus said slowly. "This may have… had a little bit to do with… why I had hoped… secretly, of course… that you would accept my offer—"
"I know, boss," she said, patting the dash in what she hoped was a comforting sort of way. "I can only imagine. That's why it's so good that I'm going to drive, right? This way, you get to take some off and just relax, and I get to practice..."
"It is good with me." His calm voice was low and gravelly over the radio. "But one thing I must admit—I am surprised by the strength of your—desire—to take control and drive…" he said with a hint of a smile. "I feared that you would be too nervous to do so, but it seems that I was wrong. I have complete confidence that you will, ah—drive this stick well, Mikaela."
Oh, god… she could not blush more if she tried. It sounded so awkward, and yet so unprecedentedly attractive, coming from him. It was like he was trying to… trying to come on to her, or something… and it should have felt wrong (especially as he was technically an alien, and she was currently in a relationship with Sam), but she would be lying if she didn't admit that it was kind of hot. Weird, and so not like him, but hot—she squirmed in her seat. There was no way that Optimus was really trying to seduce her on purpose, was he?
"Optimus…" she said slowly. "Are you… you're not flirting with me, are you?"
The Autobot's voice was suddenly stern. "…What?"
"I asked you if you were flirting with me. I mean—"
"No," he said firmly, and Mikaela was taken aback by the seriousness of his tone.
"No?"
The Peterbilt was silent for a moment. Mikaela sat awkwardly in the driver's seat as Optimus rolled up the windows. She hadn't offended him by asking, had he?
The awkward silence stretched on as she felt a wave of anxiety pool in her stomach. God, she hadn't meant to be offensive! She thought that he had been playing along with her! And now, nothing could be heard inside of the cab but the ever-present hum of the air conditioning and the rumble of Optimus gearing down as they approached the freeway exit he'd wanted to take. She couldn't help but feel as though she'd made some kind of mistake.
"I have the utmost respect for Sam, Mikaela. No matter what…" Optimus said finally, speaking as though he were weighing every word carefully. "I know that the ways of your species are not always to mate for life. I am aware that you and Sam are both very young and it is commonplace for your kind to… experience others, before you decide to bond for life."
Mikaela remained silent, trying to make sense of what Optimus was saying. She still felt so caught off-guard—it had been the last thing she'd been expecting, for him to suddenly be so damned serious in the midst of what she'd assumed to be playful banter between two friends.
"But I am Cybertronian," Optimus continued heavily. "And the ways of our kind dictate that when we bond, we bond for life. This concept of… 'breaking up', as I believe you often call it here on Earth—does not exist with us."
"…Ah."
Her reply sounded so hollow, even to herself, but it was such an intense subject that she had no real idea of what to say back that was guaranteed not to offend him even more than she probably already had.
"I would never purposefully try to come between you and Sam, Mikaela. That is not the way of our kind," Optimus explained further. "I did not mean to say anything that implied that I… that would lead you to believe something false, or worse, that would make you feel uncomfortable. And so for that I apologize. It was my mistake if I have done so."
There was a long pause. "I'm not uncomfortable, Optimus…" she said slowly.
"I am relieved."
"Good," she told him, thinking of how best to explain. "Because I don't want you feeling bad, Mister Prime. I still stand by what I said earlier—I think it would be really good if we could both just relax for a little bit, while you let me drive." She paused here to take a deep breath, and closed her eyes before continuing, "'Cause Optimus, if there's anything that you should have known about me before we started hanging out together… it's that if there's one thing I love doing, it's poking fun at you guys a bit," she grinned. "And up until just then, I'd almost swear that you were enjoying it too, boss."
"Heh heh heh," the Peterbilt chuckled as he turned left off of the freeway ramp, heading toward the low shapes of buildings nestled between two high mesas on the horizon. "Maybe, but it is important for you to understand…"
Mikaela looked at the mirror seriously and said, as sincerely as she could, "I do, Optimus. I really do. But it's okay. Honestly."
"Thank you, Mikaela. I appreciate this more than you can know."
Optimus had taken them to a mid-sized town called Margo, identifiable only by a freshly-painted 'welcome' sign that marked the place's outskirts. In the shadow of the big hills, the village bore signs of once harbouring a now-dried-up river that would have run directly through its midst; its dusty banks had long since been transformed into short talus slopes and its basin had been filled with deposits of scree from the crumbling rock. A rickety old bridge singlehandedly connected the northern portion of the town to the southern portion—the northern consisting mostly of a decently-sized residential district and the southern being of mixed-use industrial and commercial lots.
Approaching from the south, Optimus pulled over into an abandoned gravel lot located adjacent to a run-down motel that had a completely dry swimming pool for an amenity and a large, faded sign plastered over the office door that said that it was 'closed for the season'. The other side of the lot backed onto a somewhat-dilapidated strip mall with overfull rubbish bins that spilled their garbage onto the vacant property. The few crows scavenging amongst the debris were frightened into the air as Optimus approached, their harsh cries the only sound joining the rumble of the Peterbilt's slowest gear and the crunchy pop of gravel under his tires.
"This is a place I sometimes pass through," he explained to Mikaela, who was staring out of the window with a look of confusion on her face. "It is the only stop for many miles when you're heading west from base. It is quiet—I thought it would be a suitable place to practice."
The big truck halted dead-center of the lot with the hiss of air brakes and idled there. Mikaela swallowed, trying to ignore the way her stomach twinged a little as she ran her hands along the smooth rubber of Optimus's steering wheel. "It's perfect, Optimus," she said, and the truck revved a bit in appreciation. She watched the tachometer needle spike as he did so, and sighed as the soft vibrations spiked in pitch and frequency along with it, her breath shaking a little as she exhaled.
He was most definitely a sexy truck.
"Okay…" she said breathily, letting her feet finally find the clutch and accelerator pedals. "Ready, Optimus?"
"Ready."
And finally—finally —Mikaela reached up to the red button on the dash and released the parking brake, easing onto the clutch. The gearstick was in neutral—she reached over to it, sparing only a second to smirk at its overly-exaggerated size (the tip of the damned thing reached past the bloody top of the dashboard, for god's sake) and wiggled it back-and-forth. Still holding the wheel with one hand, she followed Optimus's instructions, checked the splitter to 'lo' and manipulated the stick right into the spot she'd wanted—up and over to the left, she felt the transmission hit first gear and eased off the clutch, searching for that sweet spot where she could hit the gas without stalling him out.
The Peterbilt snarled appreciatively and started forward with a lurch. As Optimus congratulated her, she found she liked the way that the big truck swayed and growled with every bit of gas she gave him. Twirling the steering wheel, she led him once around the perimeter of the lot before she raised a hand to the top of the gearstick, admiring how cool and silky the metallic cobalt-blue case on top of the thing felt under her fingertips and how it vibrated more than her seat and the mirrored floorboards beneath her feet combined.
"A-ah," said Optimus, and she noticed that the radio did not flicker with each syllable when he said this, but glowed a solid blue. "You're ready for second gear then, are you?"
"Well, you should know me well enough by now to know, Optimus…" she teased, easing the clutch in along with the accelerator as her left hand pulled gently on the shifter. Squeezing gently as she took him back into neutral so that she could drive it into second, she felt his transmission vibrate harder against her hand. "I can't resist going fast, can I?"