Hearing his sister hollering at the top of her lungs sent a surge of fear down his spine, so Sam ran to his room's window and his eyes found her immediately. She was stepping out of the yellow Camaro, surrounded by cars. She was just as upset as he was, and he could tell by the way she kicked at the rubble of the fountain.
"This isn't hiding. This isn't hiding," he repeated under his breath, hands cradling his head. "This is our backyard, not a truck stop."
"I know! I'm trying!" She yelled back, hands braced on her hips. On hand resting on Optimus' door, because there was no possibility she'd be able to reach the hood, she leveled with him. "Listen, this is our backyard. There are normally no cars here, so you guys are sticking out like a sore thumb right now."
At least she didn't have Sam on her back for now. She just had to find a way to corral these five humongous children. Still, they seem to wait for their orders from the big boss. Midge didn't care, demanding they transform because they were majorly suspicious like this. "That means change back. Now!"
Thankfully, they heeded Midge's orders. The five vehicles opened up, straightening into the form of gigantic men. She was lucky to be the first human woman to lay eyes on them, as each one was a specimen of such magnificence that she couldn't help her greedy eyes drinking in Bumblebee's form, even in such a high-stress situation. She shook herself out of the stupor, reminding herself what was at stake.
She rounded on the yellow 'bot, though this time not to ogle him. Stalking ahead, she grabbed one of the girthy cables in his boot. "Listen, Bumblebee." He winced, his gaze shooting down at her in confusion. Midge loosened her grip apologetically. "You're the only one I can count on, Bee. I need your help rounding up your buddies. The longer you guys are in the yard, the more risk there is of you being seen and that would be disastrous for all of us. Please, help me out."
The crack of a whip and the jingle of spurs began his reply. "Whatever you need, partner!"
"Get me back up there so I can talk to him." Midge told him, hurrying onto his servo when he lowered it. She noticed Sam's widened eyes on them once the 'bot lifted her up.
"Midge, you were supposed to watch them, not flirt with them!" He yelled, halfway leaning out the window with his open palm aiming at their mom's flowerbed, mangled and trashed Optimus' metal foot. "Now look!"
Her face felt instantly hot and she told herself it was from anger and not embarrassment. "Oh yeah? Why don't you come down here and try to wrangle a bunch of robots 300 times your size?" she seethed, hoping to hide how shy his words made her with a blanket of vexation. This almost never went well for her, starting arguments she didn't want and always ending in hurt.
"Oh, sure. Yeah, it looks so difficult for you, having my car wrapped around your little finger." he replied, voice dripping with a sarcastic drawl. "I got news for you. He's not Douglas' replacement."
His words struck her like a physical blow, the air leaving her lungs in a rush. Swallowing thickly, she ran her hand over her face, camouflaging her attempt to wipe away the hot blades of tears streaking down her face in the cool night. "Wow." She almost laughed.
His glare softened. He sighed, shoulders cowing as it set in that he had messed up. "I'm sorry, Midge. I-"
"We must have the glasses," Optimus interrupted, but only out of necessity. Sam sighed again. They'd have to put a pin in this for now.
Closing his eyes, Sam breathed through his nose. "I know you need the glasses. I've been looking everywhere. They're not here. They're definitely not here."
Looking like an overworked teacher, the blue and red Autobot ran a hand down his faceplate. "Keep searching."
"Did you ask mom?" his sister suggested, already knowing what he'd say.
"No, I didn't. Thank you." He looked back to Optimus, the sheer size of him, even when on his knees, forcing Sam to tilt his head back. "Look, I need you to be quiet for five minutes. Ten minutes. Okay? Please, I'm begging you. You've got to- You're making a racket. I can't- I can't concentrate. You want me to look and I'm hearing-"
Optimus nodded his head and waved his extra large servo placatingly at the boy. "Calm down, calm down."
Both hands steadying herself in Bumblebee's palm, she begged the bigger 'bot gently, "Please, Optimus. Work with us here." He stood at least twice the size of the yellow Autobot and towered over them with ease.
It was a long moment before he gave in, nodding his head and taking stock of his soldiers. "Autobots, fall back," he ordered, rising from his kneeling position and walking away from the Witwicky house. His second obeyed, taking the little redhead with him as he crept around the side of the yard, going for the street out back.
He was still on the grass when something halted his pace. Sirens and alarms flared up, alerting them to the nearby distress. In no time at all, Bumblebee's other servo had cupped over her head, forcing her to duck. It was dark underneath the improvised metal canopy. She couldn't see even an inch in front of her.
Ratchet had clotheslined himself on the power lines running down the street. He twirled into the earth below, flattening Judy's outdoor greenhouse in an explosion of sparks. She spotted the lights in the house flickering and realized they were screwed. There was no story she could come up with to cover this mess.
"Holy crap!" Midge shouted at the noise, spotting their ally on the ground after she was uncovered. "Ratchet, are you okay?" She yelled to the 'bot.
"Wow! That was tingly!" Ratchet moaned and let his head fall back down. He looked every bit like Midge's uncle, Tony, when he reclined into his La-Z-boy massage chair with a cold beer. "You gotta try that."
"Yeah, that looks fun." Ironhide said sarcastically, but Midge wasn't convinced that he would leave it be until he stomped away from the power lines.
"He's fine," Bumblebee reassured her. She wasn't in any place to contradict him, but she couldn't help worrying. Although they looked strikingly robust and near-impenetrable, she was sure that was simply not the case. They acted so damn normal that one could almost forget they were aliens.
She pushed down the questions about their sexual similarities that rise in the back of her head, not in the state of mind to deal with those feelings right now. As much as she liked the 'bot, they had a pretty big fish to fry. She was content to feel the feelings she felt for him, which were warm and fuzzy. They didn't require a denomination yet.
Ratchet, Jazz, Ironhide, Optimus, and Bumblebee were fundamentally human beings to her. They cracked jokes, had fun, made mistakes, got mad, and all kinds of other behaviors that she could only think of as human.
And humans got hurt when they were shocked and it wasn't obvious from appearances alone, but she eventually gave in. He knew the Autobots better than her and it seemed to be a minor injury. "If you say so."
The lights in the windows flickered, then went out entirely. She thought it spoke to some larger problem than just a surge, maybe a cable issue, but she wasn't an electrician. It was above her pay grade and she was doing horribly enough with auto engineering as it was, she didn't need another subject to fail at.
She supposed she was really worried over nothing when the med 'bot stood up as per Optimus Prime's request. Eager to comply, the two of them marched right back into the yard she finally lured them out of. "Ratchet, point the light."
"All right, think," she muttered to herself. Then, she had a look of discovery and all she was missing was the light bulb over her head. "Put me on the roof." She pointed to the roof's edge closest to them, just over the 'bot's shoulder.
"Roger, roger." Bumblebee nodded firmly and carefully lifted her to where she wanted to be. She thought in passing that it was like having her own portable elevator, then reminded herself not to think of the 'bot as being defined by his uses.
"I'll deal with Ratchet, you get Optimus to take a chill pill."
He offered her a thumbs up, turning on his heel strut to tap Optimus on the shoulder.
Standing atop Sam's room, Midge only had to climb to the top of the gable and make her way down. Ratchet was on the other side with lights as bright as a helicopter and he was about to blow their cover. The sandpaper-y quality of the shingles made it easy to gain traction even with her converse's flattened down soles. "Ratchet!"
The fluorescent 'bot wrinkled his nose at her, as though he could smell something on her. "Human."
"It's Midge, actually. You gotta put that light out," the redhead begged. She wrung her hands together, hoping it'd be in time. If their dad found out about the 'bots, there would be hell to pay. "Please."
No words left him, but rather a raspy, affirmative grunt accompanied by the flick of his light bar turning off. She went to return to the others, but was halted by his gruff statement. "I don't know what you think you're doing with Bumblebee, but stringing that young 'bot along is just cruel."
It shocked her, this being the first conversation she had with Ratchet, that he held such beliefs. She didn't think she was that obvious, but Ratchet and Sam beg to differ. She tried her best to deescalate. "Who says I'm stringing him along? I really like Bumblebee."
"If you care about him, you'll forget about your little crush." The fluorescent medic's head was shaking side to side when she whipped around, her piercing blue orbs settling on him. "Our species are just not compatible. Bumblebee doesn't need his spark broken, on top of everything else we've been through."
She blew a strand of coppery hair out of her face, dumbfounded, before the emotions started to hit her. She wanted to cry, turning away from the old coot. Instead of telling him how wrong he was, or having an episode, she let it go in favor of her family and the Autobots' safety. He could think whatever he wanted about her and she'd just have to prove him wrong. It wasn't possible for him to know that about their species, anyway. No 'bot had ever tried being with a human before, of that she was certain.
She crested the roof gable when a clamor erupted. The house wobbled. She tried to compensate, but couldn't. Her balance wasn't good enough to keep her upright, and she toppled over, landing on her back.
"Fuck!" she cried, no longer seeing the Autobot's heads as she slid down the tilted roof. She felt every bump and ripple with each strike in her spine. The edge was imminent. She'd survive, but she may break a leg or two. Praying that one of them would notice her predicament, she did her best to grip the shingles and slow her roll, praying in whispers the whole way down. "Somebody please catch me!"
Her converse-toed feet didn't find purchase on the gutter and she slipped over the edge into the open air.
"Come to Papa!" With a soft 'whump' she landed in a set of robotic arms. Cradled by yellow plates, she never more secure.
"Thanks, Bee," she breathed, smiling appreciatively at the wink he sent her. A heave of a breath left her, finally feeling at ease in the 'bot's embrace.
Her parents were arguing and it was coming from Sam's open window. Optimus circled his servo in the air, commanding them all with his severe demeanor. "Quick, hide." The Autobots sprung into action, each of them looking for somewhere they won't be found.
While he got on his tip toes to avoid crushing the deck and pressed his back against the house, Ratchet and Ironhide slipped around the left side of Sam's room and hid in the shadows. Jazz hemmed and hawed until the last moment and he finally jumped into the deck space under Sam's room.
The yellow scout squatted down, bringing the two of them back to the patio. Once more under the dangling, spherical lights, he flattened the doors on his back as much as he could, the woman nestled solidly against his chassis. His servo encased her like a turtle's shell, her arms and legs curled up against his breastplate.
What struck her was his warmth. When she thought of metal, she thought of the cold, harsh and unflinching. Bumblebee was anything but.
Her father lamented over the destroyed yard, his voice falling from the window. When he finally ducked back inside, they could all breathe again, so to speak.
There's a far-off sound like a conversation being had on the other end of the backyard, but all she could think about were stunning blue optics in front of her, scanning intently over every inch of her. He held her low and in front of his face, many times larger than her own. Laying in his palm on her back, she felt like Mojo, a tiny little animal being examined by a being much larger than herself. Belatedly, she supposed that was what was happening. She had a newfound empathy for the chihuahua.
Her hand rose, thin fingers coming to caress his metal jawline. He was pleasantly hot to the touch, his optic shutters drooping like half-lidded eyes. He held her closer to his huge faceplate, allowing her to truly take in how handsome he was. Locked in the 'bot's gaze, she felt the rest of the world fade away, until Optimus ruined the moment with a word.
"Bumblebee."
Their stares moved to him and the human and bot disentangled themselves. In the process, Midge caught a glance of a black SUV with flashing red and blue lights out front. The shadows of multiple figures stalking the front yard passed by. All the signs pointed to law enforcement being all up in her family's business. Her time was limited.
She rounded on the Autobot leader.
"You guys need to get out of here. Like now. The cops are here. They might want nothing, but if they see you..." Midge's forlorn visage turned to Bumblebee, her eyebrows furrowed. He echoed her features. "They'll treat you like science experiments, dice you up and find out what makes you tick. You gotta go."
Optimus deliberated momentarily, eyeing the lights in the front yard. "Very well." Bumblebee shook his head, not wanting to leave her. He only softened his resolve when his commander gave him a direct order. "Bumblebee, fall back. You must leave dealing with other humans to them for the time being."
He finally bowed to the directive, but not before looking at her like a kicked puppy just to drive the piercing guilt into her chest. She hoped it wouldn't be the last time she saw them, eyes trailing as the giant mechanical silhouettes stepped back into the street and transformed into alt modes.
The crunch of her father's beloved and pampered grass alerted her to an intruder. He looked like a cop, shined-up shoes and a black suit trimmed to fit the gangly, balding man that stood before her. "You must be the sister, Margaret Wickity," he stated, sounding quite sure of himself, clasping his hands in front of him. "Your presence is requested inside."
"It's Witwicky," Midge corrected, widening her legs in case she needed to dodge, arms hanging by her sides and ready to form fists. "I must admit, you have me at a bit of a disadvantage. I don't know your name, piglet."
There wasn't the slightest effort put into answering her verbally, but he flashed a badge at her so briefly she wasn't sure what to make of it. Sector Seven? It looked official, but she'd never heard of it before. She wondered what sector of the government they were under.
The man stared at her, sunglasses shielding his eyes from view. Midge raised a brow at the white-clad man behind the suit. He seemed to be defiling her mother's rose bushes. Each one he placed in that yellow bag was just another thing her mom would blow her top over.
"Your presence is requested inside." Like a broken record, he repeated himself. This time, though, he was approached by another suit, handed some kind of observational device. It had a large cube with a handle and a wand connected by wires. He waved the rod in front of her, the other piece of the device beeping at an increasingly rapid pace as he does. She swiped at it, knocking the wand away from her. She didn't consent to whatever he just did. "17 rads. That's enough for me to take you in, no questions asked. Cuff her."
"Do not fucking touch me. I know my rights." As the second man approached her, she pointed in his direction. It didn't stop him from grasping her wrist and using it as leverage to turn her around, slapping a pair of manacles on her. "Ow! Fuck you!" she shouted when he twisted her arm. This was going to be a long night.
A/N: To y'all under 21 who may not know, Zinfandel is a slightly sweet red wine.