FIC: A Universal Concept - Chapter Seven
Title: A Universal Concept
‘Verse: Post 2007 Movie
Rating: Mature for later chapters
Pairings: Jazz/Maggie Madsen, Ironhide/Sarah Lennox/Will Lennox, Prime/Ratchet, Bumblebee/Sam, Barricade/Mikaela
Summary: What is love? Is it an instinct? An emotion? Or an ability that can transcend species? After eons of conflict, the war-weary Autobots have a new home, a new life, and a chance for something more. And for a single Decepticon, a chance for salvation.
AU, based off of the 2007 Movie only, since I haven't read the books or comics.
Warnings: Mech/human sexual situations and mech slash in later chapters.
( Prologue )( Chapter One )( Chapter Two )( Chapter Three )( Chapter Four )( Chapter Five )( Chapter Six )
---------------
A/N: To my betas, you are the best. Thank you!
*~*~*~*~* Denotes breaks within a scene
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Chapter 7~
One Month After Maggie's Arrival
Timeframe: Present day, just after Prologue events
He sat parked on the hilltop overlook, watching the glow of lights that haloed the town below. The grass was soft, a pleasant sensation beneath his tires. Insects chirred and buzzed strange songs out into the night air, reminding him of another night, not so very long ago. The sweet smell of some blooming plant hung in the air, like the flowers Sam had brought to Mikaela. They made her smile, made her happy. The two had shared a kiss, then another, and another. Climbed inside him and he took them to where they could be alone, putting himself a discrete distance away, far enough for privacy but close enough to watch over them and keep them safe.
You could stay inside me, where it's warm.
Nervous laughter from Sam. That would be too weird!
A loving pat on his dash from Mikaela. Sex is sort of messy with us, 'Bee, she said with a knowing little smile at Sam, and Bumblebee had watched the color rush up into his face.
Night time, the flowers next to her on the blanket, soft moans and tight embrace, flushed skin, panting breaths. An ache in him as he waited, wishing he didn't feel so alone. It was better when Sam was with him. Mikaela, too. The girl who saved him, the boy he loved.
They touched a place inside that was cold for too long, pushing aside the nightmares and the pain of Jazz's death. They were alive and warm and so very soft inside of him. He wanted to hold them forever.
Even after their first mating, Sam still blushed, all awkward, unsure young male where Mikaela was concerned. Bumblebee found this puzzling. Shouldn't Sam feel secure? Didn't they know where they stood with each other?
His unease grew, once he realized, and Bumblebee labored, trying to process how things could fall apart so fast from that promising beginning.
The throb of the engine registered first, then the flash of silver in the moonlight as the Solstice rounded the last curve. Jazz pulled off the road with a flourish that spun gravel from beneath his tires, in a good mood despite having lost the trace.
“No sign of him now. He’s out there, 'Bee, but he’s runnin’ in stealth mode.”
“Right. Just that tiny little blip on the scanners and then it vanished.”
"He’s sure ta have gone ta ground. May as well call it and head for home.”
Home. Home sounded good, or maybe he would find Sam and Mikaela and bring them back here to enjoy the view. Unless they were fighting or not talking or ignoring each other or- Bumblebee resolutely shunted those thoughts from his processors and began to turn towards the road.
"Oh hey, 'Bee, before we go back, there's somethin' I wanted ta show ya."
The Solstice was vibrating, with excitement or impatience or too much pent-up energy, maybe all three, and the Camaro came close with a querying sound. Data streamed between the two, and Bumblebee rocked back on his tires.
“Slag! We can do this? With them?"
"Workin' on the details as we speak, and I'm gonna have Ratchet check, too. A second set of optics on the programmin' will help."
"And Optimus? He said okay?”
“Permission granted,” Jazz responded with a low, exultant laugh. "All I need ta do is pick a partner and get started."
Bumblebee stirred, suddenly uneasy. "Who did you have in mind for this?"
Jazz didn't answer right away, and Bumblebee felt the sudden clench of his spark, the sweep of jealousy. "Not Sam, you can't choose him."
"You're his guardian, 'Bee, not his owner," Jazz said.
Bumblebee reacted before he could stop himself. He let out a growl, low and angry. "Sam is m-" and then he caught the sharpened attention from the saboteur and clamped his vocalizer down, because Jazz was doing what he always did. Intelligence gathering, probing for secrets, and information was a valuable commodity no matter what it was or who it came from.
Bumblebee huffed at the soft chuckle, and Jazz nudged his bumper. "Just wanted ta be sure. I ain't a poacher, 'Bee. Sam's all yours. 'Kaela too, I'm guessin'."
"Yes, since they're together." For how long? Do they even know? They seem to get further apart every day.
"No problem. Maggie's the one I've picked. Gonna ask her tonight, and the odds are in my favor that she'll agree."
The Solstice hummed and touched him gently once more. "I asked Prime for ya too, 'Bee. He said okay."
Jazz spoke up for him, Jazz still looked out for him, the same as he always did, and now, this. Bumblebee felt gratitude well up. I can have more with them, there can be more.
I wish to stay with the boy.
If that is his choice.
Yes.
Quiet affirmation, but with a look of such promise, it sent a ripple of yearning through his spark.
Disappointment followed hard on the heels of gratitude, and Bumblebee would have hung his head were he not in his alt-mode. The frame of the yellow car seemed to sag just a little.
"I wish I could ask Sam, and Mikaela, but I can't, not now. Things are not well between them, Jazz. I don't know what to do."
The silver Solstice bobbed on its tires, the equivalent of a shrug. "Yer not obligated to help, not in that way."
"Sam's hurting," 'Bee said, "I can tell. Mikaela, too."
"Not much ya can do for 'em. They'll work it out for themselves or they won't. Best ta wait and let them sort it out, then you can ask."
He was right, but a vague sense of guilt persisted. "I feel like I'm letting them down, Jazz."
"Let it go, 'Bee."
Jazz's powerful engine core purred to life. The Solstice pulled ahead, out onto the road, and turned toward home. The Camaro followed slowly.
______________________________
When Ratchet's wordless inbound alert came across the comm, layered with a wealth of annoyance, aggravation, and anger of the fragged-off CMO variety, Ironhide's first inclination was to transform and head out for an early patrol. In the opposite direction.
His second inclination was to wait. The long drive from the Base to the Lennox property would serve to cool the medic down, and he got little enough company out here as it was.
The medic arrived, not as calm as hoped, and the news he brought earned him a long look from Ironhide.
"Are you insane?"
"I must be."
"And you cleared him for duty, too."
"Yes, but that was before I checked his sanity, or mine, and Prime must be equally insane for allowing it, so I'll have to check him, too, and what the frag are you doing to yourself anyway? Your systems are sluggish, you've got errors piling up, and you're still not regenerating as fast as you should be."
"I'm trying."
"Well, try harder, because I am this close to breaking a datapad over that thick helm of yours."
Not only insane, but still in a very foul mood. Ironhide eyed the medic's twitching fingers and decided to change the subject.
"Since when do you make personal calls, anyway?"
Ratchet's systems snarled. "Since Prime developed a short-attention span, a glitch in his processors, and a general failure to see the obvious."
Frag. If that whole situation wasn't an explosion waiting to happen, Ironhide didn't know what a cannon was.
".... Have you checked on the Captain lately?"
The medical sensors reset and began another sweep. "Captain Lennox is no longer my concern. He has declined my requests to come in, and prefers to let his own medics see to him."
Ironhide grumbled, unhappy with the decision. Ratchet's scanners beeped as they picked up more anomalies and the medic's vents blew out air.
"You need to treat this as you would any battle that's gone to the Pit. Save who you can and leave the rest. The Captain and his mate are close to breaking their bond."
Every instinct in the black mech rose up in protest. "NO. I can't just stand by and watch!"
"Yes, you can!" the medic snapped back. A finger stabbed into Ironhide's chestplates. "You cannot keep them together. Better to have them deal with the pain now and get it over with, then extend it and keep them suffering. It's difficult for them, but it doesn't last as long. They'll recover, and find other mates again."
Just because he was right, didn't mean Ironhide had to like it. The angry growl and pale optics had sent many a lesser mech ducking for cover, but Ratchet never faltered, continuing to monitor systems while he waited for Ironhide to collect himself.
It took longer than Ironhide liked, but Primus, everything was taking him longer these days. His thoughts circled back to Jazz again.
"So Jazz is really going to try that. I shouldn't be so surprised, since it's him."
"I'm more surprised that Prime agreed to Jazz's little pet project, given that his sympathies are all with the humans. He sees them as his personal responsibility now. He let Bumblebee go without even an attempt at a rescue for fear of hurting them. I think he'd risk all of us going to the same fate, if it meant saving the humans."
Pale optics narrowed on the medic.
"Prime has never been willing to risk you."
The slight catch of Ratchet's intakes was telling. Ironhide knew he scored a hit, and immediately regretted it.
"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."
Ratchet bent to his task again. "It's true enough."
"Why did you come back, medic?"
"Because he asked me and I wanted to, and I thought after so long apart, that things would be different."
Ratchet straightened and passed a weary hand over his optics. "Sometimes I think I know him better than my own programming. Other times, I don't think I know him at all."
"It's the Matrix in him-"
"It's not the Matrix, it's him! He cares about everyone and everything and every single planet and species we've ever come across. He carries the guilt of the whole slagging universe around with him, he doesn't have a single selfish bolt in his frame, and Primus blast him to the Pit, but I wish that he did! Then I wouldn't have to fight so hard not to-" Ratchet's broke off abruptly, and just as suddenly, Ironhide put two and two together.
"It's starting again, isn't it."
Not a question, and Ratchet saw no point in denying the obvious. "I can stall it."
"Not forever, you can't."
"No." Air whispered out from Ratchet's vents. "Not forever."
He stilled under the hand laid on his shoulder and looked up to meet the black mech's sympathetic gaze. Ratchet acknowledged it with a low hum.
"Stubborn mech. I can't keep you together forever either. You put too much strain on your systems."
"You know how guardianships work."
"I know how they're supposed to work with one of our own. That's not the case here. Take my advice and step back, Ironhide. Revoke your guardianship and adjust your programming. Let the Captain go. Take care of Sarah and her child. That's the best you can do. Now open your chestplates."
Just like that, they were back to business. Ironhide complied and tried not to twitch while Ratchet poked and prodded.
"Still feeling tired? How's your recharge cycle?"
"Yes, I'm still tired, recharge is slag and Jazz is really going to give this a try?" Ironhide wasn't sure why his processors kept belaboring the topic.
"Yes he is, and if he breaks any of the humans, I'll break him. How much energon are you consuming a day?"
"Three cubes, and Prime obviously hasn't given him enough to do, if he's got time to play with the humans."
"No argument there. Three should be plenty, the new module is functioning perfectly, why are your systems not regenerating faster?"
Ratchet poked something and Ironhide winced. "Ow, that hurt!"
"Shut it, you big sparkling."
"Fragger. So who'd Jazz pick, anyway?"
"Maggie Madsen."
Ironhide blinked. "The femme who screamed and ran away from Prime?"
"The same."
"Huh. Good luck with that."
Ratchet snorted.
_______________________
The two humans sat at the dining table of the small kitchen area. Mikaela was slumped in her seat, her head propped up in one hand. Maggie twirled a soda can around, deep in thought.
A groan broke the silence. “I think my brain is broken.”
Maggie summoned a weak chuckle. “I keep thinking mine’s on crack. It’s been one weird thing after another since I got here. This though…”
“Yeah, this. Wow. You and Jazz been spending any time together? Outside of work I mean.”
“Well, he’s offered to take me into town a few times. There wasn’t anything I really needed, but I said yes anyway, just because I love getting into him.“
Mikaela arched a brow and Maggie blushed. “I mean, getting into his car, riding in him… I mean, him as a car… when he’s a car I like riding him…”
Mikaela started to giggle and Maggie face palmed.
“Damn. I quit. I’m not talking for the rest of the day.”
Mikaela sat forward with a determined air. “Alright. Tell me what happened.”
“I just did.”
“Right, but it broke my brain. It’s better now, so tell me again what Jazz said, what you said--everything. ”
“Mikaela, if I think about this too much longer, it may break my brain.”
“There had to be some hint this was coming. Any candy, flowers, dinner and a movie, expensive jewelry?”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. “Not helping here. At all.”
“Hey, I'm trying! Just start from the beginning, exactly how it happened, and don’t leave anything out.”
“Fine. Here’s exactly what happened.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I... what? You want me to… what?”
Maggie froze, her shocked gaze dropping from Jazz's face right down to the very large plate between his legs, her brain instantly conjuring up images of-
Oh god, did she just look at his- no, No, NO! His eyes, his eyes, focus on his eyes! Wait, not eyes, he had optics, covered with a visor, so she couldn't see his eyes, she needed to look at something else, somewhere else, anywhere else except his cro-
She tore her eyes away from that large plate once again, and swallowed hard, blushing hotly.
Jazz patiently repeated his request.
No, she hadn't heard wrong--oh my god, what?!--and this was no shiny Rubik's cube, and no dream, and not even her brain on crack. This was Jazz. Giant Alien Robot Jazz, and he was asking... asking her to...
Maggie’s gaze skittered once again over his frame--oh god, he must be at least 15 feet tall!--darting from his face to his chest to his legs and finally landing on the pelvic plating at the juncture of his thighs. Again.
Her brain whimpered out a tiny little eep. Maggie could feel herself blushing right up to the roots of her hair. She dropped her eyes and looked at her hands instead. They appeared to be trying to twist together into a knot. How interesting.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You didn't."
Mikaela watched Maggie bury her face in her folded arms.
"You did? You really looked at his...?
A muffled moan emerged. "... Yeah. I did."
"Well, so much for noticing the eyes first."
Maggie lifted her head to glare at the snickering girl. "Oh, like you wouldn't have looked there, too!"
Mikaela raised her hands, still smirking. "Alright, sorry. So then what?"
Maggie sat up and pushed her hair back behind her ears. "I thought it was a joke, but he said he was completely serious. Then he told me a story."
"He- What?"
"He told me a story."
"Huh."
"...Yeah."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Speechless, overwhelmed, dumbfounded, staggered, and… and… Her brain stalled out, trying to come up with a suitable description for its current condition.
Some part of Jazz made a muffled, whirring sound, and she looked up to see his head tilt slightly.
“I’ve noticed ya watchin’ me, Maggie,” he remarked. Her jaw dropped; she could feel her face heat up again.
He didn't. Did he?
He did. He caught you looking, admiring all that sleek silver armor, admiring him.
Now she could add completely mortified on top of being stunned. If Jazz had set out to embarrass her purposely, he was doing a great job, and that thought brought a little twinge of hurt along with it. She stared up at him for a long moment, searching for what this was all about, but that visor of his gave nothing back, not the slightest hint of what he was thinking or feeling, if he was being serious or-
Joke, it all had to be a joke.
"Oh. I- I get it now. That's a good one... really."
She couldn't quite keep the hurt out of her voice, and the silence afterwards was agonizing.
It was broken by soft clicks and a deep hum. They all did that, Mikaela told her, and the sounds meant something, but she couldn't seem to remember what. And you call yourself a signals analyst.
"Maggie."
His voice slid smoothly across the confusion in her mind, along with another whirring sound. She looked up and Jazz was so close she could see seams and small gaps in his armor, could have reached out to touch the Autobot sigil on his chest, if she wanted. Close enough to touch his visor, trace the seam where his helm met and joined the smooth flexmetal of his face.
"Maggie..."
Jazz's visor flared with a blaze of colors, some of which she couldn't put a name to, swirling and moving so fast she could barely follow them.
"... I'm completely serious."
Her brain gave a little lurch. Then it whimpered, because if he was serious, then-
Oh. Damn.
"Why?"
She meant 'why me' but 'me' got lost along the way; her brain seemed to have curled up in a corner somewhere.
A soft sound from Jazz, along with a gentle puff of air across her face. He sat back and regarded her, a lazy smile on his lips.
"If you landed on a new world, what's the first thing you would do?"
Maggie frowned, not expecting a question for an answer. "I suppose I would set out to explore or something."
"Exactly. And then what?"
"I guess, look for some signs of life, a civilization."
"And after that?"
"Try to make contact, maybe, if they seemed friendly."
Jazz beamed as though she'd passed a test with flying colors.
"Good, very good. Now let's add a little adventure into this picture, something unexpected. Two aliens from different worlds, both explorers travelin’ around the galaxy, and they both discover a new world, very strange. But then, somethin’ goes wrong.”
Jazz’s voice dropped low with suspense; Maggie chuckled.
"What goes wrong?"
"Oh, how about their ships glitch or somethin'."
"So they crash."
"Sure do, and the crash knocks out their engines, computers, communications-"
"-and they're stranded."
"Right again. They each set out from their ship and start to explore, lookin’ for other people." He paused, inclining his head to her. "And then?”
Maggie smiled. “They see each other?”
“They do. One of the aliens is really large, the other one is really small. They decide ta join forces and begin ta explore this new world together. And that’s when they discover somethin' altogether different.”
“What 's that?”
Jazz looked at her. “I don’t know yet, Maggie, but I can tell ya this. The little one is pretty scared at first, but the big one is nice and friendly. He likes her and she decides she likes him, too. What happens next is up to you."
Up to-
Oh.
Maggie blushed all over again.
The silence was not agony this time, but time seemed to stretch while her breath came a little quicker, her heart beat a little faster, the air charged, and his question hovered, waiting on her answer.
Maggie's eyes slid over Jazz, his large form so still and quiet next to her, easily three times her size. Apprehension crept in; her mind balked.
As if triggered by some unseen cue, Jazz hummed once more. “We’ll take it slow, Maggie. We’ll go as slow as ya need ta.”
Distracted by that deep sound again, she struggled with a reply, trying to order her thoughts and failing completely.
“I… don’t… quite know what to say...” She trailed off unhappily, silently begging him not to push for an answer.
All the little clicks and that hum came to a stop, replaced by a sound like a small whoosh of air from a vent.
“Don’t say anythin’ right now, just think about it, okay?”
His smile was still in place, but fading a little; the glow of his visor dimming, so unlike Jazz it brought a troubled frown to Maggie's face. She was about to ask, when she caught the movement of his hand.
She watched as he reached out, very slowly, slow enough for her brain to catch up and realize she could choose. Stop him, leave now, and that would be her answer-
-or seriously consider what he was proposing.
Jazz's hand hovered; Maggie didn't move.
“Ya don’t have ta answer right away. There’s no rush. Take all the time ya need.”
Even his voice sounded smaller, softer, a little unsure. The whole effect made him seem uncertain, and oddly vulnerable.
His finger touched her lightly, smoothing over her hands still gripped tightly together.
Large metallic hand and finger, a delicate, butterfly touch that was there and gone again, but the sensation remained on her skin, warm, gentle, and promising.
“Will ya think about it, Maggie?”
His finger touched her hand again, inviting her into the adventure of a lifetime.
She nodded. “All right, Jazz.” Her breath caught at the brilliant smile that matched the glow of his visor.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“So I told him I’d think about it,” Maggie finished, "and then he left."
“That was it?”
“Yeah, that was it.”
Mikaela propped her head on her hand. Maggie picked up her soda, looked at the metal can and put it back down again, frowning.
“He’s an alien, Mikaela, a big, metal alien. How can this possibly work?”
Mikaela hummed, thoughtful. “One sure way to find out.”
Maggie uttered a strangled gasp. “You are really not helping.”
Mikaela laughed and stood up, stretching. "Sorry, I'm no help tonight. I'm tired and I have to be up early for Ratchet the slave driver, too. I'll see you for breakfast?"
Maggie rubbed her eyes and sighed, feeling the start of another headache. "Yeah, see you in the morning. "
She climbed into bed a short time later, hoping for a deep, dreamless sleep, but of course that was too much to ask. Instead of shutting down sensibly, her poor overworked brain staged a full-on revolt.
Maggie's dreams that night were filled with images of Jazz transforming, and she was left staring at a perfect silver cube with no discernable markings, utterly blank and completely baffling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
( A Universal Concept - Chapter Eight )
( Table of Contents )
‘Verse: Post 2007 Movie
Rating: Mature for later chapters
Pairings: Jazz/Maggie Madsen, Ironhide/Sarah Lennox/Will Lennox, Prime/Ratchet, Bumblebee/Sam, Barricade/Mikaela
Summary: What is love? Is it an instinct? An emotion? Or an ability that can transcend species? After eons of conflict, the war-weary Autobots have a new home, a new life, and a chance for something more. And for a single Decepticon, a chance for salvation.
AU, based off of the 2007 Movie only, since I haven't read the books or comics.
Warnings: Mech/human sexual situations and mech slash in later chapters.
( Prologue )( Chapter One )( Chapter Two )( Chapter Three )( Chapter Four )( Chapter Five )( Chapter Six )
---------------
A/N: To my betas, you are the best. Thank you!
*~*~*~*~* Denotes breaks within a scene
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Chapter 7~
One Month After Maggie's Arrival
Timeframe: Present day, just after Prologue events
He sat parked on the hilltop overlook, watching the glow of lights that haloed the town below. The grass was soft, a pleasant sensation beneath his tires. Insects chirred and buzzed strange songs out into the night air, reminding him of another night, not so very long ago. The sweet smell of some blooming plant hung in the air, like the flowers Sam had brought to Mikaela. They made her smile, made her happy. The two had shared a kiss, then another, and another. Climbed inside him and he took them to where they could be alone, putting himself a discrete distance away, far enough for privacy but close enough to watch over them and keep them safe.
You could stay inside me, where it's warm.
Nervous laughter from Sam. That would be too weird!
A loving pat on his dash from Mikaela. Sex is sort of messy with us, 'Bee, she said with a knowing little smile at Sam, and Bumblebee had watched the color rush up into his face.
Night time, the flowers next to her on the blanket, soft moans and tight embrace, flushed skin, panting breaths. An ache in him as he waited, wishing he didn't feel so alone. It was better when Sam was with him. Mikaela, too. The girl who saved him, the boy he loved.
They touched a place inside that was cold for too long, pushing aside the nightmares and the pain of Jazz's death. They were alive and warm and so very soft inside of him. He wanted to hold them forever.
Even after their first mating, Sam still blushed, all awkward, unsure young male where Mikaela was concerned. Bumblebee found this puzzling. Shouldn't Sam feel secure? Didn't they know where they stood with each other?
His unease grew, once he realized, and Bumblebee labored, trying to process how things could fall apart so fast from that promising beginning.
The throb of the engine registered first, then the flash of silver in the moonlight as the Solstice rounded the last curve. Jazz pulled off the road with a flourish that spun gravel from beneath his tires, in a good mood despite having lost the trace.
“No sign of him now. He’s out there, 'Bee, but he’s runnin’ in stealth mode.”
“Right. Just that tiny little blip on the scanners and then it vanished.”
"He’s sure ta have gone ta ground. May as well call it and head for home.”
Home. Home sounded good, or maybe he would find Sam and Mikaela and bring them back here to enjoy the view. Unless they were fighting or not talking or ignoring each other or- Bumblebee resolutely shunted those thoughts from his processors and began to turn towards the road.
"Oh hey, 'Bee, before we go back, there's somethin' I wanted ta show ya."
The Solstice was vibrating, with excitement or impatience or too much pent-up energy, maybe all three, and the Camaro came close with a querying sound. Data streamed between the two, and Bumblebee rocked back on his tires.
“Slag! We can do this? With them?"
"Workin' on the details as we speak, and I'm gonna have Ratchet check, too. A second set of optics on the programmin' will help."
"And Optimus? He said okay?”
“Permission granted,” Jazz responded with a low, exultant laugh. "All I need ta do is pick a partner and get started."
Bumblebee stirred, suddenly uneasy. "Who did you have in mind for this?"
Jazz didn't answer right away, and Bumblebee felt the sudden clench of his spark, the sweep of jealousy. "Not Sam, you can't choose him."
"You're his guardian, 'Bee, not his owner," Jazz said.
Bumblebee reacted before he could stop himself. He let out a growl, low and angry. "Sam is m-" and then he caught the sharpened attention from the saboteur and clamped his vocalizer down, because Jazz was doing what he always did. Intelligence gathering, probing for secrets, and information was a valuable commodity no matter what it was or who it came from.
Bumblebee huffed at the soft chuckle, and Jazz nudged his bumper. "Just wanted ta be sure. I ain't a poacher, 'Bee. Sam's all yours. 'Kaela too, I'm guessin'."
"Yes, since they're together." For how long? Do they even know? They seem to get further apart every day.
"No problem. Maggie's the one I've picked. Gonna ask her tonight, and the odds are in my favor that she'll agree."
The Solstice hummed and touched him gently once more. "I asked Prime for ya too, 'Bee. He said okay."
Jazz spoke up for him, Jazz still looked out for him, the same as he always did, and now, this. Bumblebee felt gratitude well up. I can have more with them, there can be more.
I wish to stay with the boy.
If that is his choice.
Yes.
Quiet affirmation, but with a look of such promise, it sent a ripple of yearning through his spark.
Disappointment followed hard on the heels of gratitude, and Bumblebee would have hung his head were he not in his alt-mode. The frame of the yellow car seemed to sag just a little.
"I wish I could ask Sam, and Mikaela, but I can't, not now. Things are not well between them, Jazz. I don't know what to do."
The silver Solstice bobbed on its tires, the equivalent of a shrug. "Yer not obligated to help, not in that way."
"Sam's hurting," 'Bee said, "I can tell. Mikaela, too."
"Not much ya can do for 'em. They'll work it out for themselves or they won't. Best ta wait and let them sort it out, then you can ask."
He was right, but a vague sense of guilt persisted. "I feel like I'm letting them down, Jazz."
"Let it go, 'Bee."
Jazz's powerful engine core purred to life. The Solstice pulled ahead, out onto the road, and turned toward home. The Camaro followed slowly.
______________________________
When Ratchet's wordless inbound alert came across the comm, layered with a wealth of annoyance, aggravation, and anger of the fragged-off CMO variety, Ironhide's first inclination was to transform and head out for an early patrol. In the opposite direction.
His second inclination was to wait. The long drive from the Base to the Lennox property would serve to cool the medic down, and he got little enough company out here as it was.
The medic arrived, not as calm as hoped, and the news he brought earned him a long look from Ironhide.
"Are you insane?"
"I must be."
"And you cleared him for duty, too."
"Yes, but that was before I checked his sanity, or mine, and Prime must be equally insane for allowing it, so I'll have to check him, too, and what the frag are you doing to yourself anyway? Your systems are sluggish, you've got errors piling up, and you're still not regenerating as fast as you should be."
"I'm trying."
"Well, try harder, because I am this close to breaking a datapad over that thick helm of yours."
Not only insane, but still in a very foul mood. Ironhide eyed the medic's twitching fingers and decided to change the subject.
"Since when do you make personal calls, anyway?"
Ratchet's systems snarled. "Since Prime developed a short-attention span, a glitch in his processors, and a general failure to see the obvious."
Frag. If that whole situation wasn't an explosion waiting to happen, Ironhide didn't know what a cannon was.
".... Have you checked on the Captain lately?"
The medical sensors reset and began another sweep. "Captain Lennox is no longer my concern. He has declined my requests to come in, and prefers to let his own medics see to him."
Ironhide grumbled, unhappy with the decision. Ratchet's scanners beeped as they picked up more anomalies and the medic's vents blew out air.
"You need to treat this as you would any battle that's gone to the Pit. Save who you can and leave the rest. The Captain and his mate are close to breaking their bond."
Every instinct in the black mech rose up in protest. "NO. I can't just stand by and watch!"
"Yes, you can!" the medic snapped back. A finger stabbed into Ironhide's chestplates. "You cannot keep them together. Better to have them deal with the pain now and get it over with, then extend it and keep them suffering. It's difficult for them, but it doesn't last as long. They'll recover, and find other mates again."
Just because he was right, didn't mean Ironhide had to like it. The angry growl and pale optics had sent many a lesser mech ducking for cover, but Ratchet never faltered, continuing to monitor systems while he waited for Ironhide to collect himself.
It took longer than Ironhide liked, but Primus, everything was taking him longer these days. His thoughts circled back to Jazz again.
"So Jazz is really going to try that. I shouldn't be so surprised, since it's him."
"I'm more surprised that Prime agreed to Jazz's little pet project, given that his sympathies are all with the humans. He sees them as his personal responsibility now. He let Bumblebee go without even an attempt at a rescue for fear of hurting them. I think he'd risk all of us going to the same fate, if it meant saving the humans."
Pale optics narrowed on the medic.
"Prime has never been willing to risk you."
The slight catch of Ratchet's intakes was telling. Ironhide knew he scored a hit, and immediately regretted it.
"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."
Ratchet bent to his task again. "It's true enough."
"Why did you come back, medic?"
"Because he asked me and I wanted to, and I thought after so long apart, that things would be different."
Ratchet straightened and passed a weary hand over his optics. "Sometimes I think I know him better than my own programming. Other times, I don't think I know him at all."
"It's the Matrix in him-"
"It's not the Matrix, it's him! He cares about everyone and everything and every single planet and species we've ever come across. He carries the guilt of the whole slagging universe around with him, he doesn't have a single selfish bolt in his frame, and Primus blast him to the Pit, but I wish that he did! Then I wouldn't have to fight so hard not to-" Ratchet's broke off abruptly, and just as suddenly, Ironhide put two and two together.
"It's starting again, isn't it."
Not a question, and Ratchet saw no point in denying the obvious. "I can stall it."
"Not forever, you can't."
"No." Air whispered out from Ratchet's vents. "Not forever."
He stilled under the hand laid on his shoulder and looked up to meet the black mech's sympathetic gaze. Ratchet acknowledged it with a low hum.
"Stubborn mech. I can't keep you together forever either. You put too much strain on your systems."
"You know how guardianships work."
"I know how they're supposed to work with one of our own. That's not the case here. Take my advice and step back, Ironhide. Revoke your guardianship and adjust your programming. Let the Captain go. Take care of Sarah and her child. That's the best you can do. Now open your chestplates."
Just like that, they were back to business. Ironhide complied and tried not to twitch while Ratchet poked and prodded.
"Still feeling tired? How's your recharge cycle?"
"Yes, I'm still tired, recharge is slag and Jazz is really going to give this a try?" Ironhide wasn't sure why his processors kept belaboring the topic.
"Yes he is, and if he breaks any of the humans, I'll break him. How much energon are you consuming a day?"
"Three cubes, and Prime obviously hasn't given him enough to do, if he's got time to play with the humans."
"No argument there. Three should be plenty, the new module is functioning perfectly, why are your systems not regenerating faster?"
Ratchet poked something and Ironhide winced. "Ow, that hurt!"
"Shut it, you big sparkling."
"Fragger. So who'd Jazz pick, anyway?"
"Maggie Madsen."
Ironhide blinked. "The femme who screamed and ran away from Prime?"
"The same."
"Huh. Good luck with that."
Ratchet snorted.
_______________________
The two humans sat at the dining table of the small kitchen area. Mikaela was slumped in her seat, her head propped up in one hand. Maggie twirled a soda can around, deep in thought.
A groan broke the silence. “I think my brain is broken.”
Maggie summoned a weak chuckle. “I keep thinking mine’s on crack. It’s been one weird thing after another since I got here. This though…”
“Yeah, this. Wow. You and Jazz been spending any time together? Outside of work I mean.”
“Well, he’s offered to take me into town a few times. There wasn’t anything I really needed, but I said yes anyway, just because I love getting into him.“
Mikaela arched a brow and Maggie blushed. “I mean, getting into his car, riding in him… I mean, him as a car… when he’s a car I like riding him…”
Mikaela started to giggle and Maggie face palmed.
“Damn. I quit. I’m not talking for the rest of the day.”
Mikaela sat forward with a determined air. “Alright. Tell me what happened.”
“I just did.”
“Right, but it broke my brain. It’s better now, so tell me again what Jazz said, what you said--everything. ”
“Mikaela, if I think about this too much longer, it may break my brain.”
“There had to be some hint this was coming. Any candy, flowers, dinner and a movie, expensive jewelry?”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. “Not helping here. At all.”
“Hey, I'm trying! Just start from the beginning, exactly how it happened, and don’t leave anything out.”
“Fine. Here’s exactly what happened.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“I... what? You want me to… what?”
Maggie froze, her shocked gaze dropping from Jazz's face right down to the very large plate between his legs, her brain instantly conjuring up images of-
Oh god, did she just look at his- no, No, NO! His eyes, his eyes, focus on his eyes! Wait, not eyes, he had optics, covered with a visor, so she couldn't see his eyes, she needed to look at something else, somewhere else, anywhere else except his cro-
She tore her eyes away from that large plate once again, and swallowed hard, blushing hotly.
Jazz patiently repeated his request.
No, she hadn't heard wrong--oh my god, what?!--and this was no shiny Rubik's cube, and no dream, and not even her brain on crack. This was Jazz. Giant Alien Robot Jazz, and he was asking... asking her to...
Maggie’s gaze skittered once again over his frame--oh god, he must be at least 15 feet tall!--darting from his face to his chest to his legs and finally landing on the pelvic plating at the juncture of his thighs. Again.
Her brain whimpered out a tiny little eep. Maggie could feel herself blushing right up to the roots of her hair. She dropped her eyes and looked at her hands instead. They appeared to be trying to twist together into a knot. How interesting.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You didn't."
Mikaela watched Maggie bury her face in her folded arms.
"You did? You really looked at his...?
A muffled moan emerged. "... Yeah. I did."
"Well, so much for noticing the eyes first."
Maggie lifted her head to glare at the snickering girl. "Oh, like you wouldn't have looked there, too!"
Mikaela raised her hands, still smirking. "Alright, sorry. So then what?"
Maggie sat up and pushed her hair back behind her ears. "I thought it was a joke, but he said he was completely serious. Then he told me a story."
"He- What?"
"He told me a story."
"Huh."
"...Yeah."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Speechless, overwhelmed, dumbfounded, staggered, and… and… Her brain stalled out, trying to come up with a suitable description for its current condition.
Some part of Jazz made a muffled, whirring sound, and she looked up to see his head tilt slightly.
“I’ve noticed ya watchin’ me, Maggie,” he remarked. Her jaw dropped; she could feel her face heat up again.
He didn't. Did he?
He did. He caught you looking, admiring all that sleek silver armor, admiring him.
Now she could add completely mortified on top of being stunned. If Jazz had set out to embarrass her purposely, he was doing a great job, and that thought brought a little twinge of hurt along with it. She stared up at him for a long moment, searching for what this was all about, but that visor of his gave nothing back, not the slightest hint of what he was thinking or feeling, if he was being serious or-
Joke, it all had to be a joke.
"Oh. I- I get it now. That's a good one... really."
She couldn't quite keep the hurt out of her voice, and the silence afterwards was agonizing.
It was broken by soft clicks and a deep hum. They all did that, Mikaela told her, and the sounds meant something, but she couldn't seem to remember what. And you call yourself a signals analyst.
"Maggie."
His voice slid smoothly across the confusion in her mind, along with another whirring sound. She looked up and Jazz was so close she could see seams and small gaps in his armor, could have reached out to touch the Autobot sigil on his chest, if she wanted. Close enough to touch his visor, trace the seam where his helm met and joined the smooth flexmetal of his face.
"Maggie..."
Jazz's visor flared with a blaze of colors, some of which she couldn't put a name to, swirling and moving so fast she could barely follow them.
"... I'm completely serious."
Her brain gave a little lurch. Then it whimpered, because if he was serious, then-
Oh. Damn.
"Why?"
She meant 'why me' but 'me' got lost along the way; her brain seemed to have curled up in a corner somewhere.
A soft sound from Jazz, along with a gentle puff of air across her face. He sat back and regarded her, a lazy smile on his lips.
"If you landed on a new world, what's the first thing you would do?"
Maggie frowned, not expecting a question for an answer. "I suppose I would set out to explore or something."
"Exactly. And then what?"
"I guess, look for some signs of life, a civilization."
"And after that?"
"Try to make contact, maybe, if they seemed friendly."
Jazz beamed as though she'd passed a test with flying colors.
"Good, very good. Now let's add a little adventure into this picture, something unexpected. Two aliens from different worlds, both explorers travelin’ around the galaxy, and they both discover a new world, very strange. But then, somethin’ goes wrong.”
Jazz’s voice dropped low with suspense; Maggie chuckled.
"What goes wrong?"
"Oh, how about their ships glitch or somethin'."
"So they crash."
"Sure do, and the crash knocks out their engines, computers, communications-"
"-and they're stranded."
"Right again. They each set out from their ship and start to explore, lookin’ for other people." He paused, inclining his head to her. "And then?”
Maggie smiled. “They see each other?”
“They do. One of the aliens is really large, the other one is really small. They decide ta join forces and begin ta explore this new world together. And that’s when they discover somethin' altogether different.”
“What 's that?”
Jazz looked at her. “I don’t know yet, Maggie, but I can tell ya this. The little one is pretty scared at first, but the big one is nice and friendly. He likes her and she decides she likes him, too. What happens next is up to you."
Up to-
Oh.
Maggie blushed all over again.
The silence was not agony this time, but time seemed to stretch while her breath came a little quicker, her heart beat a little faster, the air charged, and his question hovered, waiting on her answer.
Maggie's eyes slid over Jazz, his large form so still and quiet next to her, easily three times her size. Apprehension crept in; her mind balked.
As if triggered by some unseen cue, Jazz hummed once more. “We’ll take it slow, Maggie. We’ll go as slow as ya need ta.”
Distracted by that deep sound again, she struggled with a reply, trying to order her thoughts and failing completely.
“I… don’t… quite know what to say...” She trailed off unhappily, silently begging him not to push for an answer.
All the little clicks and that hum came to a stop, replaced by a sound like a small whoosh of air from a vent.
“Don’t say anythin’ right now, just think about it, okay?”
His smile was still in place, but fading a little; the glow of his visor dimming, so unlike Jazz it brought a troubled frown to Maggie's face. She was about to ask, when she caught the movement of his hand.
She watched as he reached out, very slowly, slow enough for her brain to catch up and realize she could choose. Stop him, leave now, and that would be her answer-
-or seriously consider what he was proposing.
Jazz's hand hovered; Maggie didn't move.
“Ya don’t have ta answer right away. There’s no rush. Take all the time ya need.”
Even his voice sounded smaller, softer, a little unsure. The whole effect made him seem uncertain, and oddly vulnerable.
His finger touched her lightly, smoothing over her hands still gripped tightly together.
Large metallic hand and finger, a delicate, butterfly touch that was there and gone again, but the sensation remained on her skin, warm, gentle, and promising.
“Will ya think about it, Maggie?”
His finger touched her hand again, inviting her into the adventure of a lifetime.
She nodded. “All right, Jazz.” Her breath caught at the brilliant smile that matched the glow of his visor.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“So I told him I’d think about it,” Maggie finished, "and then he left."
“That was it?”
“Yeah, that was it.”
Mikaela propped her head on her hand. Maggie picked up her soda, looked at the metal can and put it back down again, frowning.
“He’s an alien, Mikaela, a big, metal alien. How can this possibly work?”
Mikaela hummed, thoughtful. “One sure way to find out.”
Maggie uttered a strangled gasp. “You are really not helping.”
Mikaela laughed and stood up, stretching. "Sorry, I'm no help tonight. I'm tired and I have to be up early for Ratchet the slave driver, too. I'll see you for breakfast?"
Maggie rubbed her eyes and sighed, feeling the start of another headache. "Yeah, see you in the morning. "
She climbed into bed a short time later, hoping for a deep, dreamless sleep, but of course that was too much to ask. Instead of shutting down sensibly, her poor overworked brain staged a full-on revolt.
Maggie's dreams that night were filled with images of Jazz transforming, and she was left staring at a perfect silver cube with no discernable markings, utterly blank and completely baffling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
( A Universal Concept - Chapter Eight )
( Table of Contents )