(no subject)
Title: Sparks (4)
Pairing BeexSam (with others developing)
Rating PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
This has been beta'd but nobody's perfect. Comments and Critiques are welcomed and encouraged.
Thanks!
AN: I owe so much to my biological sibling and the ones I've adopted along the way. I dedicated this chapter to
dragoona
for her excellent skills as a beta.
muzaidenfor hugs and the ocasional slap upside the head.
and
tsumiden for just listening to me.
God I love them! These three have been invaluable during the writing process and I am so thankful for them.
Summary: As with life, not everything is going to go the way you want it to. Not every one is just going to lay down and die. For the Autobots and their companions this lesson is just beginning. An AU with mature themes and oft ignored characters.
S1 Burnt Out , S2 Melt down , S3 Re Boot
Sparks 4
Up load
Sitting in a hanger of the secret Sector 7 beneath the Hoover Dam facility was not how Samuel Witwicky imagined spending the day after coming back to life. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn’t really expected to die. The whole experience was pretty surreal.
At the moment he was both trapped and ignored by a sea of people chattering at a pace he could barely understand. He was no longer cold having been "gifted" with the ugliest uniform of a secret facility in the history of the government. Sam felt stiff and uncomfortable especially since no one had yet graced him with any apparel remotely resembling underclothes. That however, was the least of his worries and he couldn’t help but sigh again as he desperately wished to be anywhere but in an underground hangar with a gaggle of excited and concerned family and friends, both Autobot and human.
Bumblebee had been taken to another hanger for treatment the instant Ratchet judged him capable of being moved from the environs of the cramped and dingy hallway. Getting him back to the main floor had been quite the adventure. Both Miles and Mikaela were still shedding tears and had nearly crushed him in their attempts to embrace him. Sam had to admit he was surprised to wake up in a cold, dim underground room, but he was even more floored by his friends explanations of what had actually happened to him
Bumblebee had been taken to another hanger for treatment the instant he’d been fit to move from the cramped hallway. It had been a real adventure, getting back to main floor. Miles and Mikaela, both of whom had yet to stop crying, had nearly crushed him. As surprised, as he’d been to see them their explanations had nearly floored him. He was still pretty iffy on the being dead thing. To be truthful, he’d never in his life expected to see Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots comforting his sobbing mother.
Realistically, he was still pretty iffy on the whole "being dead and coming back to life" thing. Sam’s grasp on the reality of his situation was further compounded by the unexpected sight of the noble Autobot leader gently comforting his hysterically sobbing mother.
Sam continued to question his sanity as things kept on going from weird to weirder.
He continued to shift minutely, but whether it was in response to his abominably itchy clothes or a mere subconscious desire to edge away from the minor rabble he didn’t know. Sam had questions, lots of them in fact, but he wasn’t getting any answers. So far, all anyone seemed to care about was that he was alive and that the Allspark was gone. . Sam didn’t have any answers to proffer in either situation and he really wasn’t sure if he even wanted to try.
Miles sniffled hard, smeared his tears and runny nose on a somewhat dirty shirt sleeve, and then proceeded to punch his best friend on the arm hard and enough to startle him. "That’s what you get," he warned as Sam winced. "You scare the hell out a lot of people and they’ll never let you forget
He had to admit it, Miles was right and had begun to say that that when he turned to speak to his girlfriend. Unexpectedly, he found Mikaela had retreated to Ironhide’s side watching as he characteristically demonstrated the efficacy of his cannons the late arriving Tom Banchek. The head of Sector 7 hadn’t seemed overly enthusiastic about dealing with the more recent damages inflicted the facility, but Ironhide was evidently quickly updating him as to the whys and wherefores of the situation.
Across the room, Sam noticed his parents deep in discussion with John Keller. Although, he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, he’d heard his name and the words "national security" mentioned together enough times to make him even more nervous. It also didn’t help that his mother kept glancing back every few seconds to give him a worried smile. She may have calmed down since the initial shock, but she obviously was still upset and needed reassurances that her only child was still alive and well
Suddenly, Sam decided he had had enough. He rose sharply to his feet and took all but three small steps before he was subjected to the intense scrutiny of every eye and optic in the hangar. He waved his arms sheepishly and pointed in the direction of the hall.
"Bathroom."
With such a simple lie, he was released Optimus’ bright optics continued to track his path as Sam gingerly stepped past the hunks of destroyed equipment. . Sam was easily able to able to find his guardian by following the bright trial of fluid along the cement floor. Peeking in the second hanger he found the massive CMO working on the still yellow mech. As he attempted to sneak inside the alien surgeon easily foiled him mid-attempt.
"He’ll be fine."
"I didn’t-" the human began, but was silenced by the look Ratchet spared him prior to resuming his work.
"You came looking for him."
It seemed explanation enough explanation enough for he said no more about it and continued his delicate maneuverings on Bumblebee’s exposed circuitry.
As he stood there and watched the larger mech operate on the throat of his best friend, Sam suppressed shudder. It had to look worse than it was… right?
Bumblebee probably couldn’t feel it at all. Even so he found himself shuffling forward to be at his side anyway.
4444
Simmons had steered clear of the N.B.E’s the moment they’d arrived. It was bad enough their first encounter hadn’t gone so well, but the team "charged with the security of the planet" had unintentionally caused undue stress to one of the damned robots that turned around and saved their ass.
As if he really could have screwed up more but he had, taking the nosey little pal of the Witwickty kid. It was days like this that he hated, knew his father wouldn’t have been proud of him. He should have known better. He’d trained for this, groomed for it. A Simmons had always been a part of Sector 7 from the beginning. It was tradition. One he had come perilously close to destroying with his stupidity. Striding through the base he looked over the damage and the people working on repairs. He probably should have listened to the kid sooner, but he had his pride.
That was the sort of thing that got people fired. This job was not for people who relied on their emotions. This job was for people who put aside their own squabbles, for the common good of their people and their government. Suddenly it had become the world as well. Maybe things were changing. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this job anymore.
Debating the merits of going to clean out his desk, he moved for the doors instead, he needed fresh air.
Things were not exactly as they seemed. Almost all traces of the Decepticons had vanished, Optimus Prime was not surprised. They’d obviously gone off to lick their multiple wounds and plot. That however, was the least of their problems. What with the most recent developments, they had to make some sort of contact with the government.
It really wasn’t as if their appearance was some closely guarded secret. But maybe, just maybe things were looking up.
After their initial introduction, things could have been much worse. Banachek, to his credit had admitted to all present company and the president over a secure line that the situation had been taken care of. It was the truth at the very least.
The next thing on his agenda however was the next step in dealing with the N.B.E.’s that had literally saved the collective asses of everyone on the Earth. Even after everything it would have been so simple for them to destroy any evidence of their presence and way. But they hadn’t and they were staying
Questioning their leader, he almost expected some heartwarming tale about life on their planet being of value in the grand galactic scheme of life.
What he didn’t expect however were the Autobot’s next words.
"This war isn’t over."
If he was surprised by the words he tried not to let it show, instead opting for a peace offering rather than the Spanish Inquisition. After all as important first impressions were, second and third impressions tended to yield better results
4444
Frenzy snarled and hissed, swinging at the humans attempting to hold him down.
As highly undignified as his capture was, the fact it was humans that bound him was downright embarrassing. Oh if they could only understand the death threats and promises of violence he directed towards them. They would pay for their transgression. This Sector Seven, they would pay.
Frozen gas brushed across his optics, earning the fleshlings even more of his verbal diatribe. A swift backhand from the weapons specialist and the foul mouth little hacker was flat on his aft swearing revenge. As the obsidian colored GMC Topkick threateningly loomed in his vision, Frenzy was well aware of the sudden drops in temperature and the subsequent failure of many of his vital internal systems in response to the freezing spray.
"Remember this, you little glitch." the metal behemoth growled in their native tongue, his words accentuated by the unmistakable sound of charging plasma cannons. "It’s because of Optimus Prime that you live. Be grateful and keep you claws to yourself. Even he won’t be able to save you should you harm any other creature on this planet."
Snarling again, Frenzy moved his claws irritably against the floor as his core temperature dropped a few more degrees. Blue optics finally dimmed and began to shutter involuntarily as essential subroutines and programs began to fail. His spark began to pathetically flicker beneath his scorched and crushed chassis. However, it didn’t matter in the long run for he was a Decepticon, a survivor and he certainly didn’t need the compassionate gestures of that pathetic, pit-slagged Autoscum Optimus Prime to do it.
After all, he alone knew where the Allspark’s final resting place was. In the end, victory and glory would belong to the Decepticon faction and that human insect Witwicky would be crushed along with everything he held dear.
4444
Glenn was high as a kite, and he was pretty sure Maggie felt the same way.
"Are you serious?"
Keller rubbed the bridge of his nose again looking at his new senior analyst and her beaming hacker assistant.
"I’m pretty sure he’s serious, Glenn" she replied trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.
"Miss Madsen, Mr Whitmann, I’m quite sure you understand the need for secrecy in this organization. In this case, however it is imperative we utilize individuals with the skills and knowledge to respond to a situation accordingly."
Pausing for effect, the Secretary of Defense didn’t get the chance to finish.
"So we’re all like secret agent and shit? Wait till I tell-"
His friend and new boss slapped a hand over his mouth cutting off his next words.
"Secrecy." he amended "Got it"
Satisfied he’d made the best choices for the job, he shook their hands.
"We’re leaving Washington at the earliest convenience."
Maggie and Glenn looked at each other in a manner reminiscent of kids espying all the presents left under the Christmas tree by Santa.
"Yes Sir"
Nodding he turned to finish other arrangements.
"Oh and Glenn?"
"Yes sir?
"I’d cut down on downloading songs, If I were you."
As the color drained from his face, Maggie had to resist the urge to laugh.
4444
Miles was a fairly observant person, or so he liked to believe.
Unfortunately, it did take him a little longer than one would expect to notice Mikaela slipping out into the hall.
Excusing himself from the room, he followed her closely, it really wasn’t all that difficult, she was examining the trail of blue liquid on the floor.
It looked like antifreeze, but probably wasn’t.
It had been pouring from Sam’s Alien Car Thingy after he’d attacked it. The only possibly explanation was blood. Oh god there had been so much of it.
Had he killed Sam’s car?
That was one thing a tune up probably wasn’t going to fix.
Mikaela finally stood and looked at him, bright traces of the alien blood glittering on her pale, slim fingertips. The pale shirt she wore was covered in sticky fluid and dirt although he couldn’t honestly say it was a bad look.
Even with her smokin’ bod and pretty eyes, he suddenly couldn’t look at her, it was just too weird.
Scratching his neck, he opened his mouth to say something anything.
"It’s ok, you don’t have to apologize to me:" She soothed, reaching for him.
"I’m not the one you hurt."
He allowed her to take his hand, and followed her lead.
As convinced, as he was that this was a bad idea, he really didn’t protest as they stepped over the threshold and entered yet another hanger.
The room was filled with plenty of noisy machines none of which he could identify.
Focusing on the situation at hand the blond found himself staring. From the little gasp from Mikaela, he knew he wasn’t the only one. Above the their heads was the recently revived figure of Samuel Witwicky straddling the large hand of the alien resembling a Search and Rescue Hummer
Biting his lip, Miles had to admit it was hot.
His supposedly straight, best friend was stripped very nearly to the hips, the black fabric pooling about him as he moved. His arms were raised above his head in a manner comparable to mythical virgin sacrifice.
Mikaela, bearing witness to the scene as well held her breath. To put it simply, he was breathtaking. All the way down his torso silvered marks had made their home in his skin. Inhuman in their design and expression the tattoos matched the simple lines and shapes of the Allspark
Staring at him, the young woman was suddenly afraid. They had not been warned about this, but then again who could have known? Who could have really said that alien robots were going to show up desperately needing your help to save the world and to fight another faction of aliens hell-bent on the destruction of your entire species. Who also could have predicted that Sam would die and subsequently be resurrected and that the entire situation was really and truly one huge, glorified mass of messiness and confusion
Shaking her head, her gaze briefly flickered to Miles. His eyes were still locked on the body of his best friend. She turned back to look at Sam suddenly glad she wasn’t the only one utterly fascinated by the changes on his visibly altered body.
Miles finally just covered him mouth unwilling to break the spell that had trapped them.
The slight tremors of Sam’s body lent an unusually vulnerable air to him. Sparing a glance at Mikaela, he was convinced she felt exactly the same way. Her brown eyes moved, following each shift and twitch of the teen perched precariously on Ratchet’s hand far above their heads. She took a small step forward and bitterness surged through Miles, woefully unbidden.
4444
For his part Sam didn’t notice, so focused was he on his current predicament. Watching the mech holding him, Sam couldn’t stop trembling. It wasn’t the scrutiny of the medic’s blue gaze, rather the feel of the energy cascading over him, invading the very pores of his body. It tickled more than anything else; it took all of his composure not to laugh. To his surprise the world suddenly spun as the Ratchet turned him in his hand.
Half clinging to the Autobot’s fingers, he found himself staring down at the body of his friend. Bumblebee was fine, he’d been assured, the injury had been bad, but not in anyway life threatening. He would be alright, he just needed to take it easy. Smiling softly the dangling human stretched his fingers towards the sunshine yellow Camaro.
So near and yet…
All at once, the blue optics flickered brightly and the young scout chirped loudly. Sam stared at the previously injured mech who had been resting so peacefully just several moments before He had to admit however it was so much better to see him functioning. He’d seen the Autobot frozen, tortured and even blown up in the course of twenty four hours it was a relief to know he was alive and well. Ratchet made a low noise, but didn’t protest as the human was drawn from his grasp. Sam yelped as Bee’s large cold fingers encircled him, but found himself beaming at the mechanical face pressed to his chest.
Mikaela seemed to visibly relax at the reunion, Miles however was still unconvinced. That large thing had been called Sam’s friend and had apparently protected them, but did it have ulterior motives? Silently he watched them both, glad his friend was all right, but unsettled still.
Sam smothered another snicker as Bumblebee chirped and squeaked his radio emitting a cacophony of several different songs. It was as if nosingle song could express what he felt.
"I been missing you, nothing is the same without you suddenly I see you’re always in my heart."
It was almost cute, but then again he had to admit, he’d been acting the same way.
Well without the singing.
"What happened to your voice anyway?"
The mech refused to reply instead cuddling the half-clothed teen to his faceplate.
Patting the large head, the young man tried to cheer up his robotic friend while attempting to prevent an unintentional flashing for his rough Sector 7 jumpsuit continually kept sliding halfway off his ass.
Wriggling in the gentle grip, he was blearily reminded of King Kong.
"It’s ok big guy, I’m fine," he soothed.
However, Bee seemed markedly more intent on discerning his charge’s status for himself.
Turning the previously deceased human in his hands, he scanned the recently acquired discolorations on the sun-kissed expanse of Sam’s back. They were so hauntingly familiar and it was as if he’d known of them all his life. He turned to Ratchet inquisitively in the hopes that the Hummer might proffer any suggestions for the miracle of Sam’s recent resurrection
The large medic however was focused on the newcomers, running scans as they moved from the doorway. Sam waved to the pair, a movement Mikaela happily returned and Mile reciprocated with a bit less enthusiasm.
"Oh Miles, I want you to meet-"
Swallowing his pride, the blond shrugged.
"We’ve met."
Sam could only grin with the pride of introducing his best human friend to his alien Camaro.
Looking around the grimy and somewhat dilapidated room, Miles absently picked at a strange and crumbling blue substance flaking off of his skin.
Looking around the grimy and somewhat dilapidated room, Miles absently picked at a strange and crumbling blue substance flaking off of his skin.
Instantly, Ratchet focused in on Miles’ somewhat surreptitious action and his scans confirmed what his optics had already discerned. "Bumblebee."
Interpreting the medic’s statement as the command it actually was, the scout lowered his human to the floor whilst chirruping at his senior officer. His questions and worries were ignored in favor of the alternatively blue streaked figures on the floor.
Dried energon. It covered all three humans and although it was the lifeblood of the Autobots, here was no telling the potentially deleterious effects it could have on human life.
Glancing about the room, Ratchet decided to act on the most suitable course of reaction.
"Strip."
The command surprised the trio of teenagers, but they had no time to argue as he lifted them from the floor and deposited them underneath an unused chemical shower in the corner.
Cold water splattered over them earning a cacophony of yelps and shouts. Looming over them, the medic repeated his previous order.
It was awkward and squished within the small confines of the shower stall as the teens struggled to remove their clothing whilst still staying under the rapidly warming spray. There was no time for reservation or modesty. They moved quickly to toss the spoiled fabric to the floor.
Sam sputtered under the spray while vigorously scrubbing the blue gunk off of his flesh.
Beside him, Mikaela tried to push her hair from her face. Over Sam’s back, her eyes met Miles’ and they both blushed. As if bidden, their eyes hesitantly trailed over the dripping flesh and surreptitiously followed the blackened lines across his spine. Their gazes then dipped down over his backside briefly before they both turned away.
"Have you been working out?"
"What?"
Miles’ question was ignored in favor of the mechs watching them.
Turning her back to them the young soaked female suppressed a groan. "Do you two mind?"
"No, not at all."
It was at that point that Miles realized things could only get stranger from there.
"You missed a spot
Pairing BeexSam (with others developing)
Rating PG-13
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Hasbro does. All characters are 18 or older with the exception of Annabelle.
This has been beta'd but nobody's perfect. Comments and Critiques are welcomed and encouraged.
Thanks!
AN: I owe so much to my biological sibling and the ones I've adopted along the way. I dedicated this chapter to
dragoona
for her excellent skills as a beta.
muzaidenfor hugs and the ocasional slap upside the head.
and
tsumiden for just listening to me.
God I love them! These three have been invaluable during the writing process and I am so thankful for them.
Summary: As with life, not everything is going to go the way you want it to. Not every one is just going to lay down and die. For the Autobots and their companions this lesson is just beginning. An AU with mature themes and oft ignored characters.
S1 Burnt Out , S2 Melt down , S3 Re Boot
Sparks 4
Up load
Sitting in a hanger of the secret Sector 7 beneath the Hoover Dam facility was not how Samuel Witwicky imagined spending the day after coming back to life. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn’t really expected to die. The whole experience was pretty surreal.
At the moment he was both trapped and ignored by a sea of people chattering at a pace he could barely understand. He was no longer cold having been "gifted" with the ugliest uniform of a secret facility in the history of the government. Sam felt stiff and uncomfortable especially since no one had yet graced him with any apparel remotely resembling underclothes. That however, was the least of his worries and he couldn’t help but sigh again as he desperately wished to be anywhere but in an underground hangar with a gaggle of excited and concerned family and friends, both Autobot and human.
Bumblebee had been taken to another hanger for treatment the instant Ratchet judged him capable of being moved from the environs of the cramped and dingy hallway. Getting him back to the main floor had been quite the adventure. Both Miles and Mikaela were still shedding tears and had nearly crushed him in their attempts to embrace him. Sam had to admit he was surprised to wake up in a cold, dim underground room, but he was even more floored by his friends explanations of what had actually happened to him
Bumblebee had been taken to another hanger for treatment the instant he’d been fit to move from the cramped hallway. It had been a real adventure, getting back to main floor. Miles and Mikaela, both of whom had yet to stop crying, had nearly crushed him. As surprised, as he’d been to see them their explanations had nearly floored him. He was still pretty iffy on the being dead thing. To be truthful, he’d never in his life expected to see Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots comforting his sobbing mother.
Realistically, he was still pretty iffy on the whole "being dead and coming back to life" thing. Sam’s grasp on the reality of his situation was further compounded by the unexpected sight of the noble Autobot leader gently comforting his hysterically sobbing mother.
Sam continued to question his sanity as things kept on going from weird to weirder.
He continued to shift minutely, but whether it was in response to his abominably itchy clothes or a mere subconscious desire to edge away from the minor rabble he didn’t know. Sam had questions, lots of them in fact, but he wasn’t getting any answers. So far, all anyone seemed to care about was that he was alive and that the Allspark was gone. . Sam didn’t have any answers to proffer in either situation and he really wasn’t sure if he even wanted to try.
Miles sniffled hard, smeared his tears and runny nose on a somewhat dirty shirt sleeve, and then proceeded to punch his best friend on the arm hard and enough to startle him. "That’s what you get," he warned as Sam winced. "You scare the hell out a lot of people and they’ll never let you forget
He had to admit it, Miles was right and had begun to say that that when he turned to speak to his girlfriend. Unexpectedly, he found Mikaela had retreated to Ironhide’s side watching as he characteristically demonstrated the efficacy of his cannons the late arriving Tom Banchek. The head of Sector 7 hadn’t seemed overly enthusiastic about dealing with the more recent damages inflicted the facility, but Ironhide was evidently quickly updating him as to the whys and wherefores of the situation.
Across the room, Sam noticed his parents deep in discussion with John Keller. Although, he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, he’d heard his name and the words "national security" mentioned together enough times to make him even more nervous. It also didn’t help that his mother kept glancing back every few seconds to give him a worried smile. She may have calmed down since the initial shock, but she obviously was still upset and needed reassurances that her only child was still alive and well
Suddenly, Sam decided he had had enough. He rose sharply to his feet and took all but three small steps before he was subjected to the intense scrutiny of every eye and optic in the hangar. He waved his arms sheepishly and pointed in the direction of the hall.
"Bathroom."
With such a simple lie, he was released Optimus’ bright optics continued to track his path as Sam gingerly stepped past the hunks of destroyed equipment. . Sam was easily able to able to find his guardian by following the bright trial of fluid along the cement floor. Peeking in the second hanger he found the massive CMO working on the still yellow mech. As he attempted to sneak inside the alien surgeon easily foiled him mid-attempt.
"He’ll be fine."
"I didn’t-" the human began, but was silenced by the look Ratchet spared him prior to resuming his work.
"You came looking for him."
It seemed explanation enough explanation enough for he said no more about it and continued his delicate maneuverings on Bumblebee’s exposed circuitry.
As he stood there and watched the larger mech operate on the throat of his best friend, Sam suppressed shudder. It had to look worse than it was… right?
Bumblebee probably couldn’t feel it at all. Even so he found himself shuffling forward to be at his side anyway.
4444
Simmons had steered clear of the N.B.E’s the moment they’d arrived. It was bad enough their first encounter hadn’t gone so well, but the team "charged with the security of the planet" had unintentionally caused undue stress to one of the damned robots that turned around and saved their ass.
As if he really could have screwed up more but he had, taking the nosey little pal of the Witwickty kid. It was days like this that he hated, knew his father wouldn’t have been proud of him. He should have known better. He’d trained for this, groomed for it. A Simmons had always been a part of Sector 7 from the beginning. It was tradition. One he had come perilously close to destroying with his stupidity. Striding through the base he looked over the damage and the people working on repairs. He probably should have listened to the kid sooner, but he had his pride.
That was the sort of thing that got people fired. This job was not for people who relied on their emotions. This job was for people who put aside their own squabbles, for the common good of their people and their government. Suddenly it had become the world as well. Maybe things were changing. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this job anymore.
Debating the merits of going to clean out his desk, he moved for the doors instead, he needed fresh air.
Things were not exactly as they seemed. Almost all traces of the Decepticons had vanished, Optimus Prime was not surprised. They’d obviously gone off to lick their multiple wounds and plot. That however, was the least of their problems. What with the most recent developments, they had to make some sort of contact with the government.
It really wasn’t as if their appearance was some closely guarded secret. But maybe, just maybe things were looking up.
After their initial introduction, things could have been much worse. Banachek, to his credit had admitted to all present company and the president over a secure line that the situation had been taken care of. It was the truth at the very least.
The next thing on his agenda however was the next step in dealing with the N.B.E.’s that had literally saved the collective asses of everyone on the Earth. Even after everything it would have been so simple for them to destroy any evidence of their presence and way. But they hadn’t and they were staying
Questioning their leader, he almost expected some heartwarming tale about life on their planet being of value in the grand galactic scheme of life.
What he didn’t expect however were the Autobot’s next words.
"This war isn’t over."
If he was surprised by the words he tried not to let it show, instead opting for a peace offering rather than the Spanish Inquisition. After all as important first impressions were, second and third impressions tended to yield better results
4444
Frenzy snarled and hissed, swinging at the humans attempting to hold him down.
As highly undignified as his capture was, the fact it was humans that bound him was downright embarrassing. Oh if they could only understand the death threats and promises of violence he directed towards them. They would pay for their transgression. This Sector Seven, they would pay.
Frozen gas brushed across his optics, earning the fleshlings even more of his verbal diatribe. A swift backhand from the weapons specialist and the foul mouth little hacker was flat on his aft swearing revenge. As the obsidian colored GMC Topkick threateningly loomed in his vision, Frenzy was well aware of the sudden drops in temperature and the subsequent failure of many of his vital internal systems in response to the freezing spray.
"Remember this, you little glitch." the metal behemoth growled in their native tongue, his words accentuated by the unmistakable sound of charging plasma cannons. "It’s because of Optimus Prime that you live. Be grateful and keep you claws to yourself. Even he won’t be able to save you should you harm any other creature on this planet."
Snarling again, Frenzy moved his claws irritably against the floor as his core temperature dropped a few more degrees. Blue optics finally dimmed and began to shutter involuntarily as essential subroutines and programs began to fail. His spark began to pathetically flicker beneath his scorched and crushed chassis. However, it didn’t matter in the long run for he was a Decepticon, a survivor and he certainly didn’t need the compassionate gestures of that pathetic, pit-slagged Autoscum Optimus Prime to do it.
After all, he alone knew where the Allspark’s final resting place was. In the end, victory and glory would belong to the Decepticon faction and that human insect Witwicky would be crushed along with everything he held dear.
4444
Glenn was high as a kite, and he was pretty sure Maggie felt the same way.
"Are you serious?"
Keller rubbed the bridge of his nose again looking at his new senior analyst and her beaming hacker assistant.
"I’m pretty sure he’s serious, Glenn" she replied trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.
"Miss Madsen, Mr Whitmann, I’m quite sure you understand the need for secrecy in this organization. In this case, however it is imperative we utilize individuals with the skills and knowledge to respond to a situation accordingly."
Pausing for effect, the Secretary of Defense didn’t get the chance to finish.
"So we’re all like secret agent and shit? Wait till I tell-"
His friend and new boss slapped a hand over his mouth cutting off his next words.
"Secrecy." he amended "Got it"
Satisfied he’d made the best choices for the job, he shook their hands.
"We’re leaving Washington at the earliest convenience."
Maggie and Glenn looked at each other in a manner reminiscent of kids espying all the presents left under the Christmas tree by Santa.
"Yes Sir"
Nodding he turned to finish other arrangements.
"Oh and Glenn?"
"Yes sir?
"I’d cut down on downloading songs, If I were you."
As the color drained from his face, Maggie had to resist the urge to laugh.
4444
Miles was a fairly observant person, or so he liked to believe.
Unfortunately, it did take him a little longer than one would expect to notice Mikaela slipping out into the hall.
Excusing himself from the room, he followed her closely, it really wasn’t all that difficult, she was examining the trail of blue liquid on the floor.
It looked like antifreeze, but probably wasn’t.
It had been pouring from Sam’s Alien Car Thingy after he’d attacked it. The only possibly explanation was blood. Oh god there had been so much of it.
Had he killed Sam’s car?
That was one thing a tune up probably wasn’t going to fix.
Mikaela finally stood and looked at him, bright traces of the alien blood glittering on her pale, slim fingertips. The pale shirt she wore was covered in sticky fluid and dirt although he couldn’t honestly say it was a bad look.
Even with her smokin’ bod and pretty eyes, he suddenly couldn’t look at her, it was just too weird.
Scratching his neck, he opened his mouth to say something anything.
"It’s ok, you don’t have to apologize to me:" She soothed, reaching for him.
"I’m not the one you hurt."
He allowed her to take his hand, and followed her lead.
As convinced, as he was that this was a bad idea, he really didn’t protest as they stepped over the threshold and entered yet another hanger.
The room was filled with plenty of noisy machines none of which he could identify.
Focusing on the situation at hand the blond found himself staring. From the little gasp from Mikaela, he knew he wasn’t the only one. Above the their heads was the recently revived figure of Samuel Witwicky straddling the large hand of the alien resembling a Search and Rescue Hummer
Biting his lip, Miles had to admit it was hot.
His supposedly straight, best friend was stripped very nearly to the hips, the black fabric pooling about him as he moved. His arms were raised above his head in a manner comparable to mythical virgin sacrifice.
Mikaela, bearing witness to the scene as well held her breath. To put it simply, he was breathtaking. All the way down his torso silvered marks had made their home in his skin. Inhuman in their design and expression the tattoos matched the simple lines and shapes of the Allspark
Staring at him, the young woman was suddenly afraid. They had not been warned about this, but then again who could have known? Who could have really said that alien robots were going to show up desperately needing your help to save the world and to fight another faction of aliens hell-bent on the destruction of your entire species. Who also could have predicted that Sam would die and subsequently be resurrected and that the entire situation was really and truly one huge, glorified mass of messiness and confusion
Shaking her head, her gaze briefly flickered to Miles. His eyes were still locked on the body of his best friend. She turned back to look at Sam suddenly glad she wasn’t the only one utterly fascinated by the changes on his visibly altered body.
Miles finally just covered him mouth unwilling to break the spell that had trapped them.
The slight tremors of Sam’s body lent an unusually vulnerable air to him. Sparing a glance at Mikaela, he was convinced she felt exactly the same way. Her brown eyes moved, following each shift and twitch of the teen perched precariously on Ratchet’s hand far above their heads. She took a small step forward and bitterness surged through Miles, woefully unbidden.
4444
For his part Sam didn’t notice, so focused was he on his current predicament. Watching the mech holding him, Sam couldn’t stop trembling. It wasn’t the scrutiny of the medic’s blue gaze, rather the feel of the energy cascading over him, invading the very pores of his body. It tickled more than anything else; it took all of his composure not to laugh. To his surprise the world suddenly spun as the Ratchet turned him in his hand.
Half clinging to the Autobot’s fingers, he found himself staring down at the body of his friend. Bumblebee was fine, he’d been assured, the injury had been bad, but not in anyway life threatening. He would be alright, he just needed to take it easy. Smiling softly the dangling human stretched his fingers towards the sunshine yellow Camaro.
So near and yet…
All at once, the blue optics flickered brightly and the young scout chirped loudly. Sam stared at the previously injured mech who had been resting so peacefully just several moments before He had to admit however it was so much better to see him functioning. He’d seen the Autobot frozen, tortured and even blown up in the course of twenty four hours it was a relief to know he was alive and well. Ratchet made a low noise, but didn’t protest as the human was drawn from his grasp. Sam yelped as Bee’s large cold fingers encircled him, but found himself beaming at the mechanical face pressed to his chest.
Mikaela seemed to visibly relax at the reunion, Miles however was still unconvinced. That large thing had been called Sam’s friend and had apparently protected them, but did it have ulterior motives? Silently he watched them both, glad his friend was all right, but unsettled still.
Sam smothered another snicker as Bumblebee chirped and squeaked his radio emitting a cacophony of several different songs. It was as if nosingle song could express what he felt.
"I been missing you, nothing is the same without you suddenly I see you’re always in my heart."
It was almost cute, but then again he had to admit, he’d been acting the same way.
Well without the singing.
"What happened to your voice anyway?"
The mech refused to reply instead cuddling the half-clothed teen to his faceplate.
Patting the large head, the young man tried to cheer up his robotic friend while attempting to prevent an unintentional flashing for his rough Sector 7 jumpsuit continually kept sliding halfway off his ass.
Wriggling in the gentle grip, he was blearily reminded of King Kong.
"It’s ok big guy, I’m fine," he soothed.
However, Bee seemed markedly more intent on discerning his charge’s status for himself.
Turning the previously deceased human in his hands, he scanned the recently acquired discolorations on the sun-kissed expanse of Sam’s back. They were so hauntingly familiar and it was as if he’d known of them all his life. He turned to Ratchet inquisitively in the hopes that the Hummer might proffer any suggestions for the miracle of Sam’s recent resurrection
The large medic however was focused on the newcomers, running scans as they moved from the doorway. Sam waved to the pair, a movement Mikaela happily returned and Mile reciprocated with a bit less enthusiasm.
"Oh Miles, I want you to meet-"
Swallowing his pride, the blond shrugged.
"We’ve met."
Sam could only grin with the pride of introducing his best human friend to his alien Camaro.
Looking around the grimy and somewhat dilapidated room, Miles absently picked at a strange and crumbling blue substance flaking off of his skin.
Looking around the grimy and somewhat dilapidated room, Miles absently picked at a strange and crumbling blue substance flaking off of his skin.
Instantly, Ratchet focused in on Miles’ somewhat surreptitious action and his scans confirmed what his optics had already discerned. "Bumblebee."
Interpreting the medic’s statement as the command it actually was, the scout lowered his human to the floor whilst chirruping at his senior officer. His questions and worries were ignored in favor of the alternatively blue streaked figures on the floor.
Dried energon. It covered all three humans and although it was the lifeblood of the Autobots, here was no telling the potentially deleterious effects it could have on human life.
Glancing about the room, Ratchet decided to act on the most suitable course of reaction.
"Strip."
The command surprised the trio of teenagers, but they had no time to argue as he lifted them from the floor and deposited them underneath an unused chemical shower in the corner.
Cold water splattered over them earning a cacophony of yelps and shouts. Looming over them, the medic repeated his previous order.
It was awkward and squished within the small confines of the shower stall as the teens struggled to remove their clothing whilst still staying under the rapidly warming spray. There was no time for reservation or modesty. They moved quickly to toss the spoiled fabric to the floor.
Sam sputtered under the spray while vigorously scrubbing the blue gunk off of his flesh.
Beside him, Mikaela tried to push her hair from her face. Over Sam’s back, her eyes met Miles’ and they both blushed. As if bidden, their eyes hesitantly trailed over the dripping flesh and surreptitiously followed the blackened lines across his spine. Their gazes then dipped down over his backside briefly before they both turned away.
"Have you been working out?"
"What?"
Miles’ question was ignored in favor of the mechs watching them.
Turning her back to them the young soaked female suppressed a groan. "Do you two mind?"
"No, not at all."
It was at that point that Miles realized things could only get stranger from there.
"You missed a spot