A hot night on the West Coast...
In the darkened room, the street light pours through the blinds. The window is open, so the sounds of the city can be heard, almost like the soft roar of the ocean if you have the imagination for it.
For the first time, he sees the appeal of cigarettes, as the smoke from the ash tray on the night stand does its slow, backlit pseudo-spiral upwards, creating a nearly artistic set of ever-changing shapes, a swath through the night air.
Fingers trace lightly down the sweat on his chest.
"I was only sixteen when I met him," she says, as she slides her thigh gently over his lower abdomen. "A brassy, nerdy kid with a penchant for knee socks and cute pantsuits. I didn't really think too much of him at first, but he was connected to these amazing alien machines, and that made him my way in. All it took was going out for milkshakes once, and I had him. Starry-eyed kid, took it really well when I kept putting off sex until we were older. I didn't realize for a long time - at sixteen, you're just amazed by everything, even moreso when you're a science geek who gets to hang around with alien robots - that he was just part of the greater package, really. If I was to continue hanging around the Autobots, I had to keep dating Spike. At the time, it wasn't really a problem. He wasn't pushy, he was a nice guy. A nice guy, really. I thought I loved him."
Her fingers stop their swirl on his chest, and her palm flattens against his skin.
"Maybe I did. I don't know. I just know that when I thought about him, I thought about all of you at the same time, and how that meant a unique, stand-out life for me. It helped that the connection helped me blow through M.I.T. so easily. It all just felt right at the time. That's the kind of thing that gets you married to your first boyfriend."
"That's so... sad."
She glances up at him, a little incredulous. "You're the first person ever not to say it was 'sweet.'"
"Well... for as much as your life involved in our war was unique, it sounds like you got nothing out of the human experience itself."
She has to watch his eyes for a moment. "I thought you were supposed to be less scary as a human."
"I... I'm not trying to scare you."
A sigh, as she rests her head on his shoulder. "I know, I was... I just didn't expect to identify with a Decepticon."
"In case you haven't noticed, I haven't really been one of them for a long time. As evidenced by your having to save my aft from Buzzsaw."
A smirk. "Well, I've long since learned to pack the heavy ordinance Wheeljack whipped up for us. You get captured and held to cow the Autobots often enough, you start to wise up." Her eyes close, and she rolls her face into the pillow. "Although you'd be evidence to the contrary of the idea that I've got an ounce of wisdom in my whole body."
"I have nothing but good things to say about your body."
She gives him a soft purr. "You know what I mean. This isn't smart, what I'm doing with you."
"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about. This is no one's business."
She's quiet for a long moment. "Thank you," she says, finally. "I... might tell him myself, eventually. I... keep having it in my head that if I ever manage to divorce him, I'm gonna be shut out of everything I like about this life in Autobot City, you know? They all knew him first. He's got dibs."
"If the Autobots shun you for making a choice to make yourself happy, they aren't who they've always claimed to be."
That brings a slow smile. "How did YOU turn out to be the one with the wisdom?"
"Actually... you're the first person that hasn't had to explain things to me like I was a child. I think you just happened to be in the right sequence."
Blink. "Do you realize that's not remotely romantic."
"I thought you were looking for the follow-through rather than the flowery promise."
A laugh. "You got me." A look around. "So. As long as I'm trusting you with secrets, guess who the first Transformer I wanted to have sex with was."
"Why, Carly, I'm hurt that I'm not the first."
"No, you're just the first one I was ABLE to have sex with. C'mon, I was a teenager in a whole spaceship full of strong personalities. There was one in particular I really wished I could... well... really wished I could fuck."
"Prime?"
"God, no. He's everybody's father."
"Jazz."
"Well, as I got older, sure, you want to take the bluesman for a drive - spring break in New Orleans or something, but no, not the first."
"If you say Bumblebee, I'm going to have to take a shower."
"Hey! He's a good guy! He was always hand in hand with Spike, though, so no."
"If you say Starscream, I will throw you out the window."
"NO, no, no. No Decepticons, they're all bad. You're the first in that regard, too."
"I give up. They all kind of blur after a while for me, into one big self-righteous thing."
"We'll have to change that. I'll vouch for you. But no... it was Blaster."
"Blaster? No way."
She blushes, looking at him sheepishly. "I know, I know, but at seventeen, he's the coolest guy in the world. He ALWAYS knew the best music of every kind, and he was so much more personable than anybody else. I mean, he turned me on to The Cure, of all things. You really got the sense he liked you - everyone else always had something bitchy to say about Earth if you talked to them long enough, but he never did." A beat. "Although it didn't hurt that I imagined him in LL Cool J's body."
"I Can't Live Without My Radio."
"HAH, yeah. Don't ever tell him that."
"Didn't plan to."
"I think we need to seal that agreement. By doing something ELSE he would never do."
She whispers into his ear, and he can't help but smile at the suggestion.
He spent eight million years being a nasty soldier-type, and every once in a while, deep down inside, there's something he doesn't like to admit. Sometimes, it's supremely satisfying to be a dick.
He'll keep his word, but this is why marriage is for fools.
He never liked that little twerp, anyway.