Fanfiction: Symmetry in Contrasts - Prowl/Optimus - Part 06
Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 6 - On Insights and Gifts
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: Bulkhead tends to stumble through life and smash things in the process. Now that it actually bothers him - what can his friends do to help? Set in TFA (Season 1); Follows 05
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Ratchet, Bulkhead
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: friendship
Stumbling Issues
In the faint, rosy light of dawn, the parking lot of the Dino-Drive amusement park resembled a scrapyard. Whole double rows of cars lay overturned or in heaps, as if they were toys, scattered there by a careless child.
The wrecks on top balanced precariously on their respective stacks. Creaking ominously in the mild morning breeze, they bobbed up and down; struggling with gravity. It looked like a spontaneous Carhenge exhibit - after an earthquake.
Ratchets magnets buzzed, as he lifted the scattered parts one after the other, transferring bumpers, hoods and more into the gray container of the waiting dump truck.
After the disaster during their visit yesterday, Optimus had, predictably, decided to help with the extensive clean-up operations.
Not that Ratchet disapproved, quite the opposite, in fact. Bulkhead had demolished both the lot and those Dino-machines. And as a team, they had to stick together, and that was that. Besides, it was not as if he had done it intentionally, - he was just a bit... exuberant. Quite the common ailment amongst youngster ‘bots.
Sumdac employed workers took over from beyond the parks gates, repairing those damaged, artificial habitat displays. Their shouts could be heard, as well as the screech of the old crane they were using. A bell rang and the distinct smell of coffee permeated the air - break time, apparently.
Ratchet grunted. After three hours of work, that particular engine block, trapped in his magnetic field, felt much more heavy than it had any right to be.
Getting old was an easy enough to accept fact - up to the point where he had to deal with the consequences. Then it got slaggin’ annoying... He struggled to maintain his grip.
”Careful, old-timer! You might go and strain a back strut!” teased Bumblebee mercilessly. The kid darted around, own servos full with scrapmetal; grinning like a fool.
He looked, insult to injury, disgustingly cheery and energized, the CMO noted with a sideways glance, which did nothing to improve his mood. A flashing warning, that his magnets drained too much energy from his systems, after their prolonged use - and his right back strut actually starting to ache - turned it even more dour.
”Silence, youngster!” he snapped. ”Or the next thing I lift will be spare parts taken from your cold frame!” With that, Ratchet dumped the engine block viciously into the container, smashing something in the process.
The sizzling sound of a laser-bladed ax, chopping through a cars chassis, drowned out Bumblebees reply. ”Less talk, more work. That goes for the both of you,” remarked Optimus sternly. His weapon connected again with the SUV he was working on, breaking the wreck down into more manageable pieces.
Sumdac’s legal department was on the fritz because of this; already transferring compensations on varying bank accounts.
”Sure, Prime,” acknowledged Ratchet; kneading his wrists with carefully hidden motions to loosen up their stiffness, before it could settle in more deeply.
”Ratchet, - could you maybe spare a moment to pack up the remaining personal belongings of the vehicles owners? Bumblebee is too careless for that task -”
”Hey! I heard that!”
” - and I am sure that the humans would appreciate to get their... trinkets back,” interjected Prowl, carrying a stack of doors past the medic.
Hearing that, Optimus glanced up from his work, noting with regret the subtle telltale signs of exhaustion in Ratchets stance. Obviously, the ninjabot had seen them as well and decided to act accordingly, offering the CMO a lighter task without telling him outright to take a break. - A wise choice, because Ratchet would not have taken kindly to such a suggestion. Rather, he would have perceived it as offending, especially with Bumblebee in audio range, who was already teasing him about his advanced age.
Optimus hastened to agree: ”Yes, I think that would -”
”Whoa, whoaaaa!!”
Bulkheads surprised shout was drowned out by the screech of bending metal. A rumble tore through the ground underneath everybots pedes, as his heavy frame hit a van, crushing it flat. - It was the second time he had slipped and thus spared the compactor some work.
Instead of getting up with a ‘Sorry, - my bad!’, like usual, the big ‘bot only vented a heavy sigh; not moving an inch. Frustration etched itself deeply into his frowning faceplate, regarding his own feet glumly.
Seeing that, Bumblebee hesitated to rush to his friends side or to say something; recognizing for once the danger of running off at his mouth plate.
Prowl took the sight of the slumped green mech in, noting the tense tremble. Disposing his load of doors with an easy throw over the edge of the half-full container, he walked over to him.
”Are you alright?” Prowl asked simply, offering his servo to help him up.
After a moments hesitation, Bulkheads claw grabbed the proffered hand. The black and golden mech pulled him upright, the movement fast and strong, especially if one took the difference in size and weight between them into consideration.
”Just fine,” he muttered in answer; resuming his work; putting his wrecking ball to good use. - Two hours later, after the clearing task was finally finished, Bulkhead was the first to leave.
BREAK
Bumblebee stood and watched the cloud of dust dissipate; frowning a little. Then his faceplate lit up with the proverbial light bulb of a great idea.
”Hey Prowl - you could help Bulkhead. I mean, teach him. You know, your stillness stuff. Bet he won’t crush things no longer if you show him how to pull some Circuit-Su,” sharing his stroke of genius, Bumblebee bounced on his pedes in excitement.
Ratchet snorted in a spontaneous burst of air, startling a flock of sparrows into flight from the tree next to him. He put the carton with personal objects aside; a teddy bear peeked out over the rim, one button-eye hanging by a thread.
Optimus subspaced his ax, having finished with the last car. He felt it again, that peculiar brand of dread, settling in. - By now he was getting accustomed to the sensation; appearing around their youngest team-mate most often
Prowl tilted his helm after a moments consideration, in a show of skepticism: ”What purpose would such an attempt serve? Bulkheads frame is sorely unsuited for the art of Circuit-Su. To impose my fighting style on him would only result in disappointment, due to a lack of progress. It would just serve to highlight his perceived clumsiness.”
”I have to agree with Prowl. I understand your desire to help your friend, which honors you, Bumblebee. But I fear you are trying to go about it the wrong way.”
”Prime’s right, lad. Add Circuit-Su to the mix and it will only result in more collateral damage,” added Ratchet. His tone was not unfriendly, but rather matter-of-fact.
Bumblebee crossed his arms in a show of both sulking and defiance. That his plan was immediately shot down only served to strengthen his resolve to see it through, regardless of warnings.
”Pah! You three are not helpful at all. Just you watch and learn: Bee-sensei will start the training right now!” Transforming in a blur of rearranging, yellow metal, he sped after his friend, peppering the other ‘bots with grains of sand and splinters of glass.
The three mechs shared a knowing look.
”Sari is not allowed into the base today,” declared Optimus with the air of finality.
Both medic and ninjabot nodded, looking oddly grim: ”Agreed.”
BREAK
Optimus watched on from the sidelines, a bit relieved.
”At least our ‘sensei’ is smart enough to exclude martial arts,” he commented. Aside from that, Bumblebee had insisted stubbornly to deal with the issue his way, - and Bulkhead had agreed, happy to get some help.
From overhead, atop the small assembly crane, a ‘hm’ drifted down to Optimus audio’s; Prowl had opted to steer clear of the ongoing training, after the first little accident.
Bumblebee had set up an improvised mix of a hurdle race and slalom stage, using the layout of the assembly line and empty oil barrels; the latter in lieu of big enough traffic cones. The goal was for Bulkhead to weave around and between the obstacles without either touching or knocking them over.
So far, every round had ended prematurely in either a crash, accompanied by encouraging shouts not to give up - or a stern lecture from the sensei - or because little earthquakes of heavy, stomping steps had rattled the whole setting till it was barely recognizable.
They had tried to point out that the gaps were too narrow for Bulkhead to maneuver, but to no avail. His frame-built would simply not allow for the big mech to swerve around the barrels like Bumblebee had demonstrated. - Refusing help from Optimus to rearrange or further input from Ratchet, who had settled for a stasis nap in utter frustration, the two young ‘bots became ever more irritated, as the first hour passed.
Currently, Bumblebee vented a sigh: ”No. Look again, big guy, do it like this.”
He walked over to the starting point and broke into a full tilt run, not waiting for Bulkhead to clear the last curve. Big mistake - in his haste to get out of the way, the green mech stumbled over an oil barrel, straight behind him. Spinning on one pede, arms flailing for balance, he tilted.
The only thing Bee saw was a sudden green-dark shadow, looming over him, coming closer - He tried to stop, but his momentum carried him further. ”Wah! Noooo!”
At the last possible moment, the carefully measured impact of a flying kick sent the yellow ‘bot out of harms way; in the same instant that two grappling hooks swished by, to connect only with thin air.
A crash resounded, bits of concrete flew up and the row of barrels toppled over in a domino chain reaction; one hollow clank following after the other.
”Bee!” yelled Bulkhead in panic, getting back up. ”You okay, little buddy?!”
”Uh...” wide-opticed, the mech in question stared at the small crater right at his pedes, taking in the cracks crisscrossing from there. Bee snapped himself out of it, though, and grinned cheekily: ”No worries, I’m fine!” - He was instantly pulled into a bear hug.
Resigned to his fate, Bumblebee shot a glance in Prowls direction, mouthing ‘Thanks, owe you one.’ Mere moments later, he struggled free: ”Don’t go all gushy over me! Enough now! Come on, - let’s try again!”
Bulkheads frame slumped in defeat; gears creaking quietly: ”It’s useless. Let’s... let’s just give up.”
Optimus, his grapplers retracted, as Prowl had, fortunately, beaten him to the punch, walked over. ”Bulkhead... You may make mistakes, like everybot does and yes, sometimes something is accidentally crushed in the process. But in a fight, both your strength and build are a huge advantage. You have proven that many times over. There is no need for this sudden doubt in yourself.”
He could easily see that Bulkhead was unconvinced and tried to think of a different approach, to remember his own days as an Elite Guard recruit, were he had had similar issues.
”Yeah, he’s right - as long as you don’t crush us alongside the enemy.”
”Bumblebee!”
”Sorry!” Bee slapped a servo over his mouth plate. Mumbling against it, he added, sheepishly: ”I... uh... wasn't thinking. Sorry.” He backed up to put some distance between himself and his glaring leader.
”You are more clumsy now because you attempt to copy Bumblebee,” interjected Prowl calmly, managing somehow to lessen the sting in his assessment due to his almost gentle tone. ”But you are you, Bulkhead. There is no need for this... training. Just do what you always do - you can never be wrong in staying true to yourself.”
Optimus had to smile in something akin to nostalgia, hearing that - the last part reminded him of his drill sergeant, Kup, from back then. As did the slightly awkward pat Prowl gave Bulkheads shoulder plate, before he stepped back.
Bulkhead mulled that over for a moment, then nodded to himself and stood straight again. A grateful smile twitched around his mouth plate.
”Thank you, Prowl.” He turned to Optimus and Bumblebee, frame finally relaxing for real. ”Thanks, guys. You’re both right. And, Bee - thanks for your help, lil’ buddy,” he beamed. ”But, heh - I guess I should try to be a bit more careful around parking cars, though.”
”A wise decision”, commented Prowl with quiet amusement.
Optimus chuckled: ”I second that.”
”Great, then all of sensei Bees hard work was for nothing,” sighed Bumblebee dramatically, - and obviously relieved that his friend had cheered up. ”Come on - let’s go and see Sari!”
”Sure!” - They transformed and were gone in a flash.
”That went... well, all things considered.”
A grunt emerged from the parked ambulance in answer to Prowls comment; the revving motors had woken the CMO from his well deserved stasis nap. He switched to robot mode - and swept a disapproving stare over the mess, stopping to look pointedly at a black puddle of oil.
”Primus! And you two just stand there and let those punks loose! Don't you dare think that I'll help to clean this up,” Ratchet informed the room at large. Quickly, he stalked away to reach the safety of his med-bay.
Without comment, Prowl righted the leaking barrel and proceeded to clear the obstacles away. Seemingly unperturbed to deal with someone else's mess.
Optimus thought that he looked almost... content. Maybe the ninjabot was and for the simple fact that the ruckus had died down. He took another barrel; helping him.
For a moment, they worked in easy, companionable silence. But Optimus could not shake that nagging feeling.
”Prowl -”
”He will be fine from now on,” assured the ninjabot without looking up; knowing exactly what Optimus was worrying about.
It felt almost like one of their ‘midnight talks’, with the only difference that the sun was shining in through the high windows.
End
Part 7
Chapter: One Shot 6 - On Insights and Gifts
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: Bulkhead tends to stumble through life and smash things in the process. Now that it actually bothers him - what can his friends do to help? Set in TFA (Season 1); Follows 05
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Ratchet, Bulkhead
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: friendship
Stumbling Issues
In the faint, rosy light of dawn, the parking lot of the Dino-Drive amusement park resembled a scrapyard. Whole double rows of cars lay overturned or in heaps, as if they were toys, scattered there by a careless child.
The wrecks on top balanced precariously on their respective stacks. Creaking ominously in the mild morning breeze, they bobbed up and down; struggling with gravity. It looked like a spontaneous Carhenge exhibit - after an earthquake.
Ratchets magnets buzzed, as he lifted the scattered parts one after the other, transferring bumpers, hoods and more into the gray container of the waiting dump truck.
After the disaster during their visit yesterday, Optimus had, predictably, decided to help with the extensive clean-up operations.
Not that Ratchet disapproved, quite the opposite, in fact. Bulkhead had demolished both the lot and those Dino-machines. And as a team, they had to stick together, and that was that. Besides, it was not as if he had done it intentionally, - he was just a bit... exuberant. Quite the common ailment amongst youngster ‘bots.
Sumdac employed workers took over from beyond the parks gates, repairing those damaged, artificial habitat displays. Their shouts could be heard, as well as the screech of the old crane they were using. A bell rang and the distinct smell of coffee permeated the air - break time, apparently.
Ratchet grunted. After three hours of work, that particular engine block, trapped in his magnetic field, felt much more heavy than it had any right to be.
Getting old was an easy enough to accept fact - up to the point where he had to deal with the consequences. Then it got slaggin’ annoying... He struggled to maintain his grip.
”Careful, old-timer! You might go and strain a back strut!” teased Bumblebee mercilessly. The kid darted around, own servos full with scrapmetal; grinning like a fool.
He looked, insult to injury, disgustingly cheery and energized, the CMO noted with a sideways glance, which did nothing to improve his mood. A flashing warning, that his magnets drained too much energy from his systems, after their prolonged use - and his right back strut actually starting to ache - turned it even more dour.
”Silence, youngster!” he snapped. ”Or the next thing I lift will be spare parts taken from your cold frame!” With that, Ratchet dumped the engine block viciously into the container, smashing something in the process.
The sizzling sound of a laser-bladed ax, chopping through a cars chassis, drowned out Bumblebees reply. ”Less talk, more work. That goes for the both of you,” remarked Optimus sternly. His weapon connected again with the SUV he was working on, breaking the wreck down into more manageable pieces.
Sumdac’s legal department was on the fritz because of this; already transferring compensations on varying bank accounts.
”Sure, Prime,” acknowledged Ratchet; kneading his wrists with carefully hidden motions to loosen up their stiffness, before it could settle in more deeply.
”Ratchet, - could you maybe spare a moment to pack up the remaining personal belongings of the vehicles owners? Bumblebee is too careless for that task -”
”Hey! I heard that!”
” - and I am sure that the humans would appreciate to get their... trinkets back,” interjected Prowl, carrying a stack of doors past the medic.
Hearing that, Optimus glanced up from his work, noting with regret the subtle telltale signs of exhaustion in Ratchets stance. Obviously, the ninjabot had seen them as well and decided to act accordingly, offering the CMO a lighter task without telling him outright to take a break. - A wise choice, because Ratchet would not have taken kindly to such a suggestion. Rather, he would have perceived it as offending, especially with Bumblebee in audio range, who was already teasing him about his advanced age.
Optimus hastened to agree: ”Yes, I think that would -”
”Whoa, whoaaaa!!”
Bulkheads surprised shout was drowned out by the screech of bending metal. A rumble tore through the ground underneath everybots pedes, as his heavy frame hit a van, crushing it flat. - It was the second time he had slipped and thus spared the compactor some work.
Instead of getting up with a ‘Sorry, - my bad!’, like usual, the big ‘bot only vented a heavy sigh; not moving an inch. Frustration etched itself deeply into his frowning faceplate, regarding his own feet glumly.
Seeing that, Bumblebee hesitated to rush to his friends side or to say something; recognizing for once the danger of running off at his mouth plate.
Prowl took the sight of the slumped green mech in, noting the tense tremble. Disposing his load of doors with an easy throw over the edge of the half-full container, he walked over to him.
”Are you alright?” Prowl asked simply, offering his servo to help him up.
After a moments hesitation, Bulkheads claw grabbed the proffered hand. The black and golden mech pulled him upright, the movement fast and strong, especially if one took the difference in size and weight between them into consideration.
”Just fine,” he muttered in answer; resuming his work; putting his wrecking ball to good use. - Two hours later, after the clearing task was finally finished, Bulkhead was the first to leave.
BREAK
Bumblebee stood and watched the cloud of dust dissipate; frowning a little. Then his faceplate lit up with the proverbial light bulb of a great idea.
”Hey Prowl - you could help Bulkhead. I mean, teach him. You know, your stillness stuff. Bet he won’t crush things no longer if you show him how to pull some Circuit-Su,” sharing his stroke of genius, Bumblebee bounced on his pedes in excitement.
Ratchet snorted in a spontaneous burst of air, startling a flock of sparrows into flight from the tree next to him. He put the carton with personal objects aside; a teddy bear peeked out over the rim, one button-eye hanging by a thread.
Optimus subspaced his ax, having finished with the last car. He felt it again, that peculiar brand of dread, settling in. - By now he was getting accustomed to the sensation; appearing around their youngest team-mate most often
Prowl tilted his helm after a moments consideration, in a show of skepticism: ”What purpose would such an attempt serve? Bulkheads frame is sorely unsuited for the art of Circuit-Su. To impose my fighting style on him would only result in disappointment, due to a lack of progress. It would just serve to highlight his perceived clumsiness.”
”I have to agree with Prowl. I understand your desire to help your friend, which honors you, Bumblebee. But I fear you are trying to go about it the wrong way.”
”Prime’s right, lad. Add Circuit-Su to the mix and it will only result in more collateral damage,” added Ratchet. His tone was not unfriendly, but rather matter-of-fact.
Bumblebee crossed his arms in a show of both sulking and defiance. That his plan was immediately shot down only served to strengthen his resolve to see it through, regardless of warnings.
”Pah! You three are not helpful at all. Just you watch and learn: Bee-sensei will start the training right now!” Transforming in a blur of rearranging, yellow metal, he sped after his friend, peppering the other ‘bots with grains of sand and splinters of glass.
The three mechs shared a knowing look.
”Sari is not allowed into the base today,” declared Optimus with the air of finality.
Both medic and ninjabot nodded, looking oddly grim: ”Agreed.”
BREAK
Optimus watched on from the sidelines, a bit relieved.
”At least our ‘sensei’ is smart enough to exclude martial arts,” he commented. Aside from that, Bumblebee had insisted stubbornly to deal with the issue his way, - and Bulkhead had agreed, happy to get some help.
From overhead, atop the small assembly crane, a ‘hm’ drifted down to Optimus audio’s; Prowl had opted to steer clear of the ongoing training, after the first little accident.
Bumblebee had set up an improvised mix of a hurdle race and slalom stage, using the layout of the assembly line and empty oil barrels; the latter in lieu of big enough traffic cones. The goal was for Bulkhead to weave around and between the obstacles without either touching or knocking them over.
So far, every round had ended prematurely in either a crash, accompanied by encouraging shouts not to give up - or a stern lecture from the sensei - or because little earthquakes of heavy, stomping steps had rattled the whole setting till it was barely recognizable.
They had tried to point out that the gaps were too narrow for Bulkhead to maneuver, but to no avail. His frame-built would simply not allow for the big mech to swerve around the barrels like Bumblebee had demonstrated. - Refusing help from Optimus to rearrange or further input from Ratchet, who had settled for a stasis nap in utter frustration, the two young ‘bots became ever more irritated, as the first hour passed.
Currently, Bumblebee vented a sigh: ”No. Look again, big guy, do it like this.”
He walked over to the starting point and broke into a full tilt run, not waiting for Bulkhead to clear the last curve. Big mistake - in his haste to get out of the way, the green mech stumbled over an oil barrel, straight behind him. Spinning on one pede, arms flailing for balance, he tilted.
The only thing Bee saw was a sudden green-dark shadow, looming over him, coming closer - He tried to stop, but his momentum carried him further. ”Wah! Noooo!”
At the last possible moment, the carefully measured impact of a flying kick sent the yellow ‘bot out of harms way; in the same instant that two grappling hooks swished by, to connect only with thin air.
A crash resounded, bits of concrete flew up and the row of barrels toppled over in a domino chain reaction; one hollow clank following after the other.
”Bee!” yelled Bulkhead in panic, getting back up. ”You okay, little buddy?!”
”Uh...” wide-opticed, the mech in question stared at the small crater right at his pedes, taking in the cracks crisscrossing from there. Bee snapped himself out of it, though, and grinned cheekily: ”No worries, I’m fine!” - He was instantly pulled into a bear hug.
Resigned to his fate, Bumblebee shot a glance in Prowls direction, mouthing ‘Thanks, owe you one.’ Mere moments later, he struggled free: ”Don’t go all gushy over me! Enough now! Come on, - let’s try again!”
Bulkheads frame slumped in defeat; gears creaking quietly: ”It’s useless. Let’s... let’s just give up.”
Optimus, his grapplers retracted, as Prowl had, fortunately, beaten him to the punch, walked over. ”Bulkhead... You may make mistakes, like everybot does and yes, sometimes something is accidentally crushed in the process. But in a fight, both your strength and build are a huge advantage. You have proven that many times over. There is no need for this sudden doubt in yourself.”
He could easily see that Bulkhead was unconvinced and tried to think of a different approach, to remember his own days as an Elite Guard recruit, were he had had similar issues.
”Yeah, he’s right - as long as you don’t crush us alongside the enemy.”
”Bumblebee!”
”Sorry!” Bee slapped a servo over his mouth plate. Mumbling against it, he added, sheepishly: ”I... uh... wasn't thinking. Sorry.” He backed up to put some distance between himself and his glaring leader.
”You are more clumsy now because you attempt to copy Bumblebee,” interjected Prowl calmly, managing somehow to lessen the sting in his assessment due to his almost gentle tone. ”But you are you, Bulkhead. There is no need for this... training. Just do what you always do - you can never be wrong in staying true to yourself.”
Optimus had to smile in something akin to nostalgia, hearing that - the last part reminded him of his drill sergeant, Kup, from back then. As did the slightly awkward pat Prowl gave Bulkheads shoulder plate, before he stepped back.
Bulkhead mulled that over for a moment, then nodded to himself and stood straight again. A grateful smile twitched around his mouth plate.
”Thank you, Prowl.” He turned to Optimus and Bumblebee, frame finally relaxing for real. ”Thanks, guys. You’re both right. And, Bee - thanks for your help, lil’ buddy,” he beamed. ”But, heh - I guess I should try to be a bit more careful around parking cars, though.”
”A wise decision”, commented Prowl with quiet amusement.
Optimus chuckled: ”I second that.”
”Great, then all of sensei Bees hard work was for nothing,” sighed Bumblebee dramatically, - and obviously relieved that his friend had cheered up. ”Come on - let’s go and see Sari!”
”Sure!” - They transformed and were gone in a flash.
”That went... well, all things considered.”
A grunt emerged from the parked ambulance in answer to Prowls comment; the revving motors had woken the CMO from his well deserved stasis nap. He switched to robot mode - and swept a disapproving stare over the mess, stopping to look pointedly at a black puddle of oil.
”Primus! And you two just stand there and let those punks loose! Don't you dare think that I'll help to clean this up,” Ratchet informed the room at large. Quickly, he stalked away to reach the safety of his med-bay.
Without comment, Prowl righted the leaking barrel and proceeded to clear the obstacles away. Seemingly unperturbed to deal with someone else's mess.
Optimus thought that he looked almost... content. Maybe the ninjabot was and for the simple fact that the ruckus had died down. He took another barrel; helping him.
For a moment, they worked in easy, companionable silence. But Optimus could not shake that nagging feeling.
”Prowl -”
”He will be fine from now on,” assured the ninjabot without looking up; knowing exactly what Optimus was worrying about.
It felt almost like one of their ‘midnight talks’, with the only difference that the sun was shining in through the high windows.
End
Part 7