Getting to Know You 3

[dream_it_all]

Getting to Know You
Chapter Three

Series: Transformers (2007 movie)

Rating/Warnings: T/PG-13, to be on the safe side. Really, the worst there is is mild swearing.

Characters/Pairings: Bec (OC) and Sunstreaker are probably the main characters.

Beyond that, this story features Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Ironhide, Jazz, Sideswipe, Sam, Mikaela, Judy, Ron, Capt. Lennox and the rest of his team, Trent, Miles, Maggie, Glen, Defense Secretary Keller and probably others.

Non-pairing (gen) except for canon mentions of Sam/Mikaela.

Summary: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker have arrived on earth. That means that all they need to do is track down Optimus Prime, get rid of the pack of Decepticons after them and not scare the local wildlife. That should be easy, right?

Thank you very much to my beta, mmouse15!

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

And at FFnet

oOoOoOo

Sunstreaker bit back a curse as the human girl emerged from the woods, walking right into a full view of the transformed Autobot.

“Oh… Oh, God. Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Bec whispered, poleaxed.

She dropped into a dead faint.

oOo

The organic was doing something weird. Its breathing had gone all funny.

At least it had finally woken up. It had been getting boring, just sitting there, waiting. Sunstreaker would have left the thing-he had no particular fondness for humanity in general, and this miserable little representative of it in particular-but he had the feeling that the Prime wouldn’t approve, and even he didn’t want to start things off that badly.

For another thing, he was going to need someone to ‘drive’ him. Bec would serve that purpose nicely, assuming that she got over some of her current shock, and now that he’d been revealed he could give her directions. For one thing, his interior was never going to see another potted plant again, protective blanket or no.

He was tired of waiting for his brother-how long could it take to get in touch with someone, after all?-and maybe just slightly worried that something had gone wrong. This was his second close call with Decepticons, after all, and they were out in the middle of nowhere.

Huh. Funny. The organic seemed to have stopped breathing. That was new.

Belatedly, he realized that she was probably dying, but by then the girl had groped an inhaler out of her mud-smeared purse; it had fallen beside her, a little ways away. She was just as muddy, if not more so, now. Disgusting.

Forget potted plants, Sunstreaker wasn’t letting her inside him. Risk of discovery or not, she was walking home.

…No, wait, they needed to leave. He didn’t want to wait for the girl to walk the thirty, forty miles back to her house. Especially not since he had the distinct suspicion that the ’Cons knew he was in the area-they’d been looking for him. Even though they’d missed him, inept and bumbling idiots that they were, it hadn’t been a chance encounter.

Someone was onto him. And what about Sides?

“What are you?” gasped the human, voice high and scared, shaking him out of his thoughts. He scowled at her.

“I’m an Autobot-an autonomous robotic entity. Miles above what you are, squishy little organic.”

“Oh God, Oh, God-”

Her breathing was speeding up again. Bored, Sunstreaker did a quick online search and identified the condition as hyperventilation. Humans really were fragile things, weren’t they?

“Snap out of it,” he demanded, poking at her. “You are going to drive me to California. You are going to act as if everything is normal. You will phone one of your genetic donors and tell them something non-suspicious. You will not contact anyone else-do I make myself clear?”

Bec choked on a panicked breath, eyes wild with fear, cowering in the mud of the rough field that served as an impromptu parking lot during high-volume summer weekends.

“Yes,” she managed to breath out, fumbling for her emergency inhaler again.

“Good,” the thing hissed, and-and collapsed in on itself, pulling and twisting and changing, until it was her car sitting there, apparently harmless. It pulled forward, fast enough to make Bec lunge backwards, stopping just short of her. A door popped open, just missing hitting her as well. Slowly, cautiously, Bec climbed inside, shivering hard. She sobbed involuntarily.

What… What was happening…?

“Disgusting,” growled the-the robot’s voice, filling the interior of the car. “You’re covered in filth. I’m covered in filth. You will deal with that.”

“Yes,” whispered Bec softly.

She was silent for the rest of the ride, except for a few soft, involuntary whimpers and the click of her teeth connecting when she shivered too hard.

oOo

Following instructions, she’d prepared herself. Clothes, money-the credit card attached to her father’s account, the one she’d promised herself she’d never use-and a call to her father himself. She’d left her cell phone behind.

She hadn’t even taken the time to set up the timed watering system for her garden, for while she was gone. She’d asked her father to see that it happened, to talk to a neighbor who’d helped her before, a bored, elderly and retired woman; he’d promised her that he’d hire a gardener. Bec had winced, but she hadn’t argued.

Dada hadn’t even wondered about why Bec hadn’t just talked to her neighbor herself. It was natural, for him, for those sorts of things to not be too important.

They’d stopped at a car wash on the edge of town.

“Are you okay, miss?” the too-observant attendant had asked her.

“Fine,” she’d said, eyes staring blind at the road in front of her, mouth thick. The car-the, the not-car, the thing she was inside of-had gunned out of the lot, newly gleaming, and muttered angrily at her for what seemed like forever. She’d only recognized maybe half the curses.

She’d been careful to keep her tears from falling anywhere other than on her own lap, when they’d come. She’d been careful to be quiet.

She’d been quiet for the past two and a half hours. She’d been careful to. She hadn’t cried that long, of course, but she’d been careful none-the-less.

Bec realized she was tugging on her left earring hard enough to hurt, and stopped. She kept herself from worrying her lip, and looked out the car window at the scenery flashing past instead. The road was utterly deserted. Night had fully fallen: it was so dark that she could barely see. She caught the gleam of raccoon eyes catching headlights ahead of her, and shivered. She couldn’t stop once she started.

After a few minutes a light appeared to the side of the road-a gas station. “Don’t get me caught,” ordered the car, tone dripping condescension and threat. “You may leave to expel waste products. Don’t think about running. I’m watching.”

Bec stood hesitantly, feeling dizzy, but straightened quickly. She didn’t brace herself against the car, didn’t touch it at all, even when she hovered her hand just fractions of an inch away from the handle, making it look like she was closing it. She was careful not to brush Sunstreaker with a leg as she walked away.

The bathroom was inside and unlocked. Bec avoided the gaze of the bored attendant sitting behind the counter until she made it in, shooting the bolt home behind her. She looked about like she’d expected, she saw in the mirror: face pale and set, panicky, and eyes still faintly red from tears, and glazed with fear. She had a few patches of dried mud on her neck still, although she’d thought she’d gotten them all. She splashed her face with cold water, washing away the salt that had her skin feeling swollen and too-tight along with the dust. She attempted a smile in the mirror. It didn’t look right, but it looked better.

She didn’t want to give the-robot away, after all. She didn’t.

She didn’t know what would happen.

Bec smiled shyly at the cashier, who didn’t bother to smile back, as she bought a bottle of water.

“Have a nice day,” he said blankly as she left.

“You too,” she called back, and her voice barely shook. Her gaze was lost again, though, face hard and set, fixed.

The car was silent as she returned. She looked at the bottle she’d bought blankly, and then thought she’d start crying again as she realized that she hadn’t gotten one with a pull-top. She still didn’t say anything as she tried to drink. She gave up after a few quick swallows, afraid she’d spill as they bumped over the rough road.

She didn’t want that.

oOo

She’d fallen into a daze, almost asleep, although she was still too afraid for that, she thought. The adrenalin had started to wear off, a more pervasive, bone-deep fear setting in behind it, and it left her feeling numb and exhausted.

“Eat,” demanded the car suddenly. It had pulled over into a rest stop; a single truck rested, a ways away, but other than that it was dark and deserted.

Bec didn’t respond, but she stepped out when the door opened. She took her bag with her to the near-by picnic table and took out a granola bar. She stared at it blankly, unopened, until the car flashed its lights at her. She opened it and ate.

Five minutes later she was throwing up. She caught the trucker looking at her as she walked back to the car, panting faintly. She couldn’t see the car-the robot-looking at her, but she thought it was.

oOo

They were driving again.

Sunstreaker was annoyed. Irritated. The organic, the human girl, was still silent.

She hadn’t wanted to eat. He’d told her too, because with how often the things had regular meals they’d drop dead if they didn’t eat three times a day or something. He needed the thing alive and healthy enough to keep her functional. She wouldn’t be much good, otherwise.

She’d eaten when he’d ordered her to. And then she’d-uneaten it, or something. If the human digestive process was disgusting, that was horribly revolting.

Apparently, it was a symptom of illness. She wasn’t sick. Scans could tell him that much.

“You. Human,” he said.

She didn’t respond, except to shiver harder. He knew she’d heard him. Maybe she was broken, or something.

“Respond,” he said , forceful, modeling the command after a particular favorite order of an old ex-commander.

“Yes,” she breathed, voice high and breathy and eyes fixed. Her nails were digging into her flesh where she’d left them on her legs.

“That-thing you did earlier. Why?”

“Stress,” she said, so faint that Sunstreaker didn’t think another human would have heard it.

“It just… happens, sometimes?” he pressed onwards, fascinated. It was revolting, but somehow you couldn’t help but want to know more.

“You usually know when it’s about to happen,” Bec whispered, answering automatically as the rest of her tied itself into terrified knots. “You can feel it. I do it when I’m stressed. I used to throw up before all my piano recitals, when Dada told me to eat something.”

“Why did you eat, then?”

“Because he told me to,” she said, answering and not answering his question, and then her fear got the better of her tongue and she couldn’t form words anymore. She curled in tight on herself, and tried to force herself to stillness.

oOo

She had fallen asleep, Bec realized. She must have, because now she was waking up.

They were at another rest stop. The sun was just starting to break the horizon.

“Finally,” grumbled the car, and Bec flinched. “I couldn’t risk travel after you fell asleep-too great a chance we’d get caught. You humans are pathetic.” Bec flinched again, then stilled. She fumbled for her inhaler, but didn’t need to use it. After a few minutes of silence, without any further reproach, she calmed a little, and put her medicine back in her purse.

“Eat,” said Sunstreaker at last.

“Yes,” said Bec, obedient and unresponsive.

“-if you want to,” tacked on Sunstreaker, unwillingly. Primus knew he didn’t want to watch that again.

Bec ate half an apple and another granola bar before her stomach rebelled. She drank a bottle and a half of water, refilling it at the drinking fountain, and still felt parched.

oOo

She was still being silent.

Sunstreaker was kind of bored.

“It figures that I still end up dragging myself across this Primus-forsaken planet on some sort of pointless, needle-in-a-haystack chase,” he said out loud. Hearing himself talk was better than this repressive silence, at least. Although it was kind of weird how the girl tensed and her breathing went funny whenever he said anything to her. “Sideswipe’s lucky. He’s stuck here too, but he didn’t end up with some nasty organic thing inside him.

“Of course, there’s always the chance that he got himself caught by Decepticons. …No, that won’t have happened. Sides is better than that. We’re hardly infiltration specialists, but we’re not stupid. Well, I’m not. Sometimes I wonder about him.”

He fell silent again.

“Say something,” he said at last.

Bec was fighting for breath. She could feel it coming harder and harder, the passageways swelling closed, and it shot fresh life through the dumb fear that had filled her, electrical.

She grasped for her purse, but it wasn’t there, strained to look behind her, and could barely see it, where a quick stop had sent it spinning into the back of the car. She fumbled for the catch of the seatbelt, but it wouldn’t depress.

“What are you doing?” demanded her-captor, and she gasped, coughing.

“Please,” she said, breath wheezing through her throat. “Please oh God please- Can’t breath-”

Sunstreaker made a noise that was almost a sigh.

“Whatever,” he said, switching lanes. A few seconds later he pulled over to the side of the road, slowly rolling to a halt. Bec was still fighting uselessly to undo the seatbelt, and she was frantic when he finally let her loose. He frowned internally as she lunged for her purse, grasped at her inhaler, fingers shaky and inaccurate.

What was the big deal? She’d still been able to breath: she’d been able to talk.

“What?” he demanded. She didn’t respond. A few minutes later she started crying. He’d seen her cry a lot: once or twice just during the day, once when she’d found a bird that had flown into her window, when her father and then her mother had visited, the night before, as they’d started driving. It had never been this-desperate, uncontrolled, unselfconscious-not because of embarrassment, but because of fear. He frightened her-helpless as she was, useless as her species was, that was only logical-but not as badly as this had shaken her, for now, at least.

She was getting salty squishy-scented water on his interior, he thought with some annoyance, but he didn’t say anything.

oOo

Sunstreaker decided to start with the origin of the message they’d caught. It was as good a place as any-and there was at least a chance that the Decepticons would avoid it because of the possible Autobot threat there.

He ignored the fact that it was also where Sideswipe had been planning to start.

Bec was quiet again, looking quietly out the window. He’d stopped three more times for her. She’d only eaten once, and only when he’d told her to. She hadn’t done anything he hadn’t told her to do, verbally or nonverbally. It was frustrating, in a way he couldn’t act on, because she wasn’t actually doing anything insubordinate, nothing he could yell at her for-not that he hadn’t snapped at her once or twice anyways, just for the hell of it.

There was a motley collection of earth vehicles waiting there already. He stiffened, ready to spring into action, as he approached. The girl was entirely unaware of it all, of course. He figured she’d be easy enough to jettison, if he needed to transform quickly.

And then he recognized Sideswipe’s bright alt form mixed in with the rest of them and relaxed. They didn’t, though: two-a little gray-colored one and a black-colored one bigger than he was, with the most ridiculously over-sized cannons he’d ever seen-transformed, rising to meet him. Bec’s breath caught in her throat, but nothing more. They were followed to their feet, just a second later, by a quickly-explaining Sideswipe and the big truck.

Sunstreaker banged a door open quickly and Bec got out so quickly that she ended up half-sprawled on the ground, bag and purse next to her. He ignored her, transforming quickly and striding forward to meet his brother. “What the slag’s the idea?” he growled, covering up his emotions. “Don’t tell me I’ve spent this whole time waiting for you while you relax?”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause that’s all I’ve been doing, Sunny-yeah, I know, don’t call you that. No, I ran into some trouble. Okay, this’s my brother-Sunstreaker, this is Optimus Prime, Jazz, Ironhide, Ratchet and Bumblebee-”

Sunstreaker ignored the small cluster of humans watching them and the three that detached themselves to walk swiftly over towards the human he’d brought.

“And the human?” asked Optimus Prime as the introductions finished.

Sunstreaker cast a disinterested look behind him at the visibly shaking girl being held by Mikaela and Sarah, Sam and now Maggie hovering nearby looking uncomfortable and worried. “Oh. The organic who ‘owned’ me. She caught me untransformed while I was hiding from Decepticons, so she did me the favor of serving as my driver for my trip down.”

Optimus frowned deeply, and the expressions on several of the other Autobots took on a distinctly threatening look.

“Primus, Sunny, what’d you do to her?” muttered Sideswipe, looking slightly annoyed. She looked like she was sobbing, but she wasn’t making any noise except for her harsh breathing, her body shaken back and forth by the motion and still trembling. It looked like she was mostly being held up by the two women. Her eyes were almost dry.

“What? I didn’t do anything. Just because they’re pointless things-”

The little yellow one had transformed guns now. Sunstreaker found it hard to take him seriously-but he supposed there had to be something to him. He’d heard about Tyger Pax…

“You’re the only one of us she knows,” said the Prime carefully. “Can you calm her down?”

“Sure,” said Sunstreaker, even as his brother pinged him with a private warning. He took the few steps over to the cluster and sunk to his knees, bringing himself a little closer. The humans looked protective and wary, except for Bec; she just looked blank again.

“Stop,” he said, voice a casual order-the sort of voice that said the speaker didn’t need to worry about being obeyed.

Bec did. There was a long silence before the girl, eyes still fixed on the giant looming in front of her like a panicking bird in a snake’s gaze, started searching blindly through her purse. Maggie’s spat curse broke the silence.

“Fuck! She’s asthmatic. And you-get the hell away from her,” she ground out, moving over to help the girl.

Sunstreaker bristled, but his brother was on him before he could react. “Just leave it, Sunny,” said Sideswipe, looking serious. Sunstreaker understood, a little, as he turned to see the line of Autobots glaring at him.

oOo

“Holy shit,” muttered Trent from the ground. His first experience with Cybertronians had been Bumblebee and Barricade fighting viciously: that had been horrifying. From there, though, he’d met and talked to, at least a little, Bumblebee, Jazz, Ratchet, Optimus Prime and Ironhide, and then Sideswipe. They were a little frightening, but that was just because any one of them could step on him and not even notice. And just because of what they were. Not because he actually thought any of them were going to actually kill him. Well, maybe Ironhide, but Sam had told him that he was like that witheveryone but probably-almost definitely-wouldn’t actually do it, and everyone else had agreed.

This one, though? The new one, Sunstreaker? He was fucking scary. He had no idea what had happened to the girl but… Shit, she was messed up.

Everyone else seemed to agree.

Yeah, he hadn’t reacted well to the giant robots from outer space disguised as Witwicky’s-Sam’s-car, but he hadn’t been freaking out like that. From the looks she was getting, nobody had. And then when the new one, the yellow one-a damn fine Lamborghini untransformed, part of him though-had kneeled like that, looming over the humans, and just ordered her to stop panicking with that one word-“Stop.”

Damn.

He hadn’t believed it when he saw the computer chick stand up to that, angry and demanding.“And you-get the hell away from her!” Fuck, he’d just been frozen. What kind of man did that make him? He had the feeling that he knew. He knew his dad did.

oOo

Judy Witwicky pulled in behind the two military vehicles satisfied with the continued existence of her perfect timing. She’d wanted to give the boys a chance to spend a little time together with the Autobots, give Miles and even that Trent a chance to settle in some more, but she also didn’t want to miss her chance to talk to the government-and, more specifically, to the Secretary of Defense. She had some questions. She was sure Sam would be horrified.

She’d also packed a large picnic-there was a good number of people there, after all: the three boys plus Mikaela, the Lennoxes plus the rest of Will’s old unit, Maggie and Glen, Keller and his retinue, and Ron was going to stop by after work, which meant any time, now. All the rattling-some of the cutlery had gotten loose-was a bit annoying, but it wasn’t too bad.

Judy was very glad indeed she’d come when she noticed the two newcomers: one was bright red, the other bright yellow, and they were hard to miss. She smiled. New fighters would help to keep her son-and all the others, of course-safe, what with this new, unknown Decepticon threat.

But the air was tense as she walked away from her car, parked a judicious distance away, and towards the Autobots. One of the newcomers in particular was earning a number of angry glares, from both the humans (and she could see that several of them were missing from the cluster) and the other Autobots.

“Hello,” she called out brightly as she approached.

“Hey, Judy,” said Miles, looking up.

“Hello,” echoed Trent, before he fell silent. There was a little pile of ripped-up dry grass in front of him, and he seemed to be thinking.

There were greetings all round, from both the Autobots and the humans. The newcomers stayed away from her, more on the edges, although the yellow one sent her a sullen glare.

It was Jazz who finally got around to introducing them.

“And these are Sideswipe-” the red one “-and Sunstreaker. Oh, and Sarah wanted to talk to you,” he continued, lying smoothly. “Some questions about baby Anna, I think. She’s down the hill a ways.” He gestured in the right direction.

“Alright,” said Judy. She said a polite hello the Secretary as she passed him, nodding at his assistants, and headed down the hill. She’d always get the chance to talk to him later-and she knew that Jazz knew that she wanted to, meaning that he probably had a reason to send her over to where Sarah was.

There was someone else with them, she realized with some surprise as she approached. The sun was starting to slant so they were backlit, hard to see, but she could make out Sarah, Sam and Mikaela plus one more.

“Hello!” she called out again as she drew closer, and the stranger jumped, a little shaken.

There was a chorus of returned greetings.

“Judy, this is Rebecca Kurtz,” introduced Sarah calmly. “Rebecca, this is Judy Witwicky.”

“She’s my mom,” added Sam.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Bec automatically. Judy covered her frown.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. Are you okay…? You look like you’ve had a rough day-”

Bec shivered.

“She came in with Sunstreaker,” said Sarah. Mikaela snorted expressively. She clearly didn’t have a high opinion of the Autobot, and Judy was inclined to trust her opinion-and she was guessing that she hadn’t even heard most of the story yet.

“He’s an ass,” said Sam flatly. Judy was tempted to call him on his language, but decided the situation warranted it.

“What happened?” She directed the question directly at Bec.

“I- He- They… Oh God, he scares me so bad. He-” Judy frowned, deeply. “And my asthma. I couldn’t breath. How can you-”

How can you be around them, Judy finished, mentally.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gently, pulling the nonresistant girl into a hug. “I’m so sorry… Shush, it’s all right. I promise they’re not all like that. None of them are. If I know Optimus, he’ll make sure that you’re never bothered by him again.”

“He’s earned Bumblebee’s eternal enmity, at the very least,” cut in Mikaela.

“But-all of them-”

“They’re very human, for what they are,” said Judy. “Bumblebee likes music. All music, as far as I can tell. He’s Sam’s best friend, and he’s saved his life, over and over. Ratchet gets annoyed whenever someone comes in to him all dinged up because they were doing something stupid, and he takes his own version of the Hippocratic Oath as seriously as the most devoted human doctor. Ironhide’s a grouch, but he dotes over Annie when he’s not scared silly of her-he’d die happy if it meant he was protecting the Lennox family. Optimus is a hero and an incredible person, and he’s also kind of broody when he’s not shaken out of it, sometimes. Sam saved his life, you know. And the whole world, but his life in particular. Jazz tries his hardest to not be taken seriously, and makes up for it by being incredibly intelligent, even if he does kind of think in right angles.”

Bec looked disbelieving.

“I don’t know what’s up with the one who found you, but most of the Autobots are great,” said Mikaela. “I guess it’s like people-there are good ones and bad ones and a lot that fall in the middle. Although you’d think he’d have been a Decepticon, rather than Autobot… But he seems really self-centered. Really-callous.”

“Somebody’s been studying SAT vocabulary,” said Sam quietly.

Mikaela ignored him. “All of the humans here have close ties, through some reason or another, to one or more of the Autobots. Bee’s my best friend, and Sam’s, but ‘best friend’ isn’t-it doesn’t really cover it.”

Judy nodded. “He made me a little nervous at first-they all did-but he did save my Sam’s life, so I started talking to him. To all of them. They’ve all been very polite.”

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but she unnerves Optimus to no end,” whispered Maggie to Bec. “Something about how she’s the mother of the person who saved his life. Well, that and she has a remarkably forceful personality when she wants to…”

“I wasn’t one of the first ones to meet the Autobots,” said Sarah. “My husband was, though. I didn’t find out about any of this until about a week after Mission City. So the first Autobot I met was Ironhide-and he’s hardly the most… relaxed Autobot. Actually, you could probably argue he’s the scariest of them all. He was, at least-I don’t know about that Sunstreaker. I was really scared for a while, even once I got past the ‘Oh my God, there’s an alien truck parked in the driveway’ part of things. I didn’t really trust him until he took out an enraged bear for us on a camping trip.”

“A… bear?” Bec looked slightly incredulous.

“We were just tent camping, because of Annie-we’d driven to Yellowstone, and we’d taken Ironhide as our car for the trip. We’re in our campsite and everything’s fine until a bear comes along. It starts going through a tub of food that some idiot left out, and the group next to them sees it and panics. They shoot it-and it’s a miracle they didn’t hit someone else in the campsite-but it’s not enough to do anything other than enrage the thing. It runs off, heading in our direction-we’d camped a good ways further down than most of the other campers-and Ironhide shoots it just in the nick of time.”

“How’d you explainthat to the camp warden?” asked Mikaela, curious.

“By lying through our teeth,” said Sarah cheerfully.

“Anyways,” continued Sam, “Right now, we’ve all been put under the guard of one of the Autobots. It’s because of the Decepticons-they’re worried that they’re going to go after us. They already have once already. That’s why Miles and Trent are here. You’ll probably need to be assigned to one of them, too.”
Bec blanched.

“It won’t be Sunstreaker,” said Sarah immediately. “I don’t know who it will be, but not him.”

“Hmm,” said Judy. “Let’s see-Bee’s watching Miles, Trent and Sam; Ratchet’s watching Mikaela, Maggie and Glen; Ironhide’s watching the Lennoxes and Captain Lennox’s team, or unit, or whatever it is that soldiers call it. Optimus needs to be unrestricted, of course, and Jazz is still assigned to the base, because Ratchet wants him on light duty for a while longer.”

“How do you know all this?” asked Maggie, amazed. “I mean, I knew the assignments, butI had no idea that Ratchet wanted Jazz assigned to base, and I practically live with Ratchet now! -I do, in fact. We’re all at Glen’s house, because his grandma knows about the situation and Mikaela’s mom doesn’t, and my apartment’s too small to fit us all. I have no idea what the neighbors think about having an emergency vehicle there.”

“Hah!” said Sam, sounding vindicated. “I told you, Mikaela! My mom’s got this, this-I don’t know, it’s like she’s a spy or something, she always knows what’s going on even before it happens, or even when it’s top-secret, or just stuff nobody would expect somebody toknow-”

“Oh, nonsense, Sam. I just pay attention. Now, I think it would be best to put you with Jazz, Rebecca, because I know that my house is awful full, and I’d imagine that Adrianna’s house is as well, and there’s already so many people with the Lennoxes-”

“-I don’t know Glen’s grandma’s name,” said Maggie, looking unnerved. “I just call her Mrs. Whitman…”

“Oh, that’s wrong, dear, she’s his maternal grandmother-her surname’s Roring. As I was saying, I think that it’d be best to put Rebecca-”

“Bec,” said Bec, interrupting. Everyone’s eyes snapped to her, and she blushed. “Everyone calls me Bec.”

Everyone except her mother. Her mother called her Rebecca.

“To put Bec with Jazz. It would be convenient, and he’s very personable.”

“I don’t know,” said Maggie doubtfully. “Ratchet doesn’t like his orders being ignored, even when they’re technically recommendations because he’s outranked, but he usually has a good reason for giving them out in the first place…”

“I might be able to talk him around,” said Judy confidently. “Anyways, Bec might need to stay at the Autobot base anyways, and then he’s still around.”

“I wouldn’t argue with him,” said Sarah. “And I argue with Ironhide. Almost daily, actually. I continue to maintain that ‘Ironhead’ would be a more apt name.”

“And does he threaten to shoot you?” asked Sam dryly.

“Almost daily,” replied Sarah, with a grin. “I usually win, though. He’ll do almost anything if you threaten him with infants. Or with Annie, at least.”

“And where is little Annabelle?” asked Judy with the proprietal air of a surrogate grandmother-or great-aunt, at least.

“With Bobby Epps and the rest of the team. They went on a hike, I think.”

“-you argue with them?” said Bec, voice thin.

“Well, yes,” said Sarah.

“With some of them, you need to,” said Judy.

“I usually don’t,” said Sam, mock-virtuously. Mikaela rolled her eyes and jokingly half-pushed him.

“They can get weird, especially when it comes to human things,” added Maggie. “Sometimes they’re hard to argue with, but that’s only because they’re smart and their handle on human cultures-and what parts of our cultures make sense-can be a little iffy. Also, they have more reliable source material. But other than that, it’s just like arguing with someone else.”

Bec shuddered. The others exchanged concerned glances.

“I think it might be good for you to meet some of the others for yourself,” said Judy gently, putting a caring hand on her shoulder. “You’ll see. They’re not all alike. They’re not all like that.”

oOo

“Are you hungry?” Judy asked Bec after a while. “Or have you eaten already-”

“Oh, no, I should have thought of offering you something to eat!” said Sarah immediately. “It’s just, you arrived after we’d eaten and with the excitement I hadn’t thought-Oh, I’m so sorry-”

“I’m hungry, too,” added Mikaela. Sam and Maggie nodded.

“Good-I packed a picnic for everyone.”

Sam groaned. Knowing his mother-which he did-she would have included the Secretary of Defense and his retinue along with that ‘everyone.’ Doubtless she was going to try to feed him freezer-jam-and-peanut-butter sandwiches, now. Along with his serious, vaguely threatening bodyguards and the frosty, professionally cold assistants.

“I’m not very hungry,” said Bec quietly.

“When did you last eat?” asked Judy, looking over at her.

“Around eleven this morning,” said Bec quietly.

“And what did you have?”

“An apple and a granola bar.”

“And before that?”

“Ten-thirty last night. I… Threw it back up.”

There was a long silence.

“Before that?” continued Judy, sounding like she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I don’t know. My last meal before-this happened.”

“I see,” said Judy, lips a thin, unhappy line. “Come, I’ll get you something to eat. Does stress upset your stomach?” Bec nodded slowly. “Okay, then. You shouldn’t eat if you’re just going to throw it back up again, you know. Are you feeling a little calmer now?”

“I know,” Bec sniffled. “But he-”

There was a horrified silence. Bec tried to explain. “He-told me to, and I couldn-didn’t want to argue. So…”

“We’ll need to work on that,” said Sarah gently. “You’ll soon find that the Autobots can be insufferable know-it-alls, the kind that really doknow it all-it comes by virtue of having the entire Internet at their fingertips, so to speak-but when it comes to day-to-day maintenance of the human body, they’re at a distinct disadvantage, since they don’t have one.”

Bec managed a weak smile.

oOo

“Okay, here we are.” Judy looked back over her shoulder, ignoring the wide-eyed, frightened stare Bec was giving the Autobots, now silhouetted against the horizon by the almost-set sun. The light was strangely bloody, the sky unusually red. It probably wasn’t helping the poor girl. “Rebecca-Bec-would you help me a little?”

“Yes,” she said, automatically, blinking her attention away from the distant giants.

Sam and Mikaela went over to see what was happening with the Autobots, and Sarah followed. “I don’t want to just leave you,” she’d said, apologetic, “but I want to see if Bobby’s back with Annie-you should meet her, Bec! She’s adorable.” Bec had paled until she was almost the same color she’d been when she’d fallen out of Sunstreaker as he pulled up. Everyone had laughed-Bec included, after a minute.

So Judy and Bec dragged out food and the cooler of drinks and table settings (plastic and paper, although Judy had packed real tablecloths, for the handful of picnic benches; there were too many people for the heavy-duty plastic settings they had for camping, and she didn’t trust her ceramics along this sort of bumpy, middle-of-nowhere road.) At least it would be easier to pack up-hopefully, most of it would be eaten by then.

As they finished and surveyed the completed job, Judy snuck a glance over towards where the Autobots were still gathered. The humans were hidden behind their collective bulk, she knew. “Just a second,” she told Bec. “I’m going to go tell everyone that dinner’s ready. I’m sure they’re hungry by now-it’s late. Help yourself to whatever you want, and take a seat. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Bec didn’t say anything as Judy walked away, but she did sit down and poke half-heartedly at the plate of sandwiches in front of her. It wasn’t particularly appetizing; her stomach was still roiled with stress. Instead she cast a nervous glance towards the huddle of cars a ways away: Judy’s, Epps’ and a handful belonging to Keller and his entourage.

She looked away to watch the humans now approaching. A mixed bunch: Sam and Mikaela, apparently typical teenagers; Maggie and Glen, although neither looked like a genius hacker; a handful of soldiers, and the wife of their captain with their baby daughter in tow; Judy and Ron Witwicky, apparently just any middle-aged couple; and the Secretary of Defense and his entourage.

Bec was pretty sure she wasn’t ready to meet them. She wasn’t a people person. She wasn’t personable. The rest of her family was, beginning and ending with her mother, who lived for socialization. She’d always been the odd one out. The black sheep, who only wanted to live as normal a life as she could, and some peace and privacy, and a chance to work in her garden. In any garden. She was majoring in botany. Most days, all she worried about was remembering the difference between the various varieties of paintbrush in the area. On a bad day, she thought about her family-

Her family. They had no idea where she was. Her father, her dada, didn’t think anything was wrong. Her mother wouldn’t, either. She probably wouldn’t expect to hear from Bec until just before the trip to Hawaii for Susan’s wedding in October, and that wouldn’t be for months. How long would she be expected to stay here?

The-alien, the robot, certainly didn’t want her. Maybe he’d let her go home. She could catch a bus and repair the damage the gardener her father had promised her he’d hire-and he always went through with his promises to his little girl-and throw herself back into her studies (she was facing her thesis, it was finally coming up) and forget all this. She could build normalcy back up.

But the government. They might not want her going back home, if they were in on this-and they were keeping this secret. They might think she was a security risk, or whatever term they used. Who knew how long. And she lived all alone and didn’t want to deal with people, and so she could disappear and nobody would know-like one of those little old ladies who live alone, and nobody discovers they’re dead until they notice the smell.

She’d been happy like that. It meant that now nobody knew where she was. Nobody would notice, until October. Right now, it was halfway between the middle and end of July.

Bec was startled, badly, by someone sitting down across from her, and she jumped, visibly. She felt her face burn with shame.

“Hello, there,” he said kindly, politely ignoring her surprise and embarrassment.

“Hello,” she said softly, in return.

“I don’t think we ever got properly introduced-sorry. I’ve been held up all afternoon. I’m William Lennox. You’ve met my wife, Sarah?”

“Yes,” she replied, voice still quiet, faint. “I have. She’s been very kind to me. Everyone has.” There was a pause. Belatedly, she added, “I’m Bec Kurtz. Rebecca Kurtz.”

“Nice to meet you, then. How are you doing?”

“Fine, thank you,” she said, lying through her teeth. “And you?”

“Well, I could be better,” he said in turn, voice confiding, obviously truthful, which tied another knot in Bec’s stomach. “We’re all worried about this new situation we’re in-have you heard anything?”

But Bec just shook her head in terror. “Please, I just want to go home,” and she couldn’t help the quiver that filled her voice. Lennox looked at her with some sympathy, and something else she couldn’t quite recognize, or name.

“I’m-I’m just a college student,” she continued, feeling very much like she needed to say something.
For one thing, all these people hadn’t chosen to meet with the Autobots in the first place, but they’d all chosen to keep on spending time with them. They’d chosen to risk their lives, to be with-friends.

“I’ll go back to my cheap little rented house-I live in Oregon, a nice mild climate. For gardening, you know. And I’ll-the tomatoes need watering twice a day, now, they’re in pots, and I’m ordering bulbs for fall. And I’ve got papers to worry about, and I was hoping to get a booth at the local farmer’s market, to sell some of the apples from the old trees on the property this fall, I could use the extra income, I’ve got student loans-”

“Wait, you’re worrying about money, and you bought a car like that?” Will nodded in the direction of the yellow mech, now pointedly ignoring his brother, who was talking excitedly about something.

“It was a gift from my father,” said Bec quietly, but there was an unexpectedly cold wall inside the soft tones, barring any further questions.

Bec had just wanted to-live a normal life, alone. Her family had made that hard, maybe impossible, but she’d been trying anyways.

She wasn’t a hero. Almost everyone else here was, in some way. If nothing else, they hadn’t turned tail and run away.

She could live with that, though. It took all sorts. Bec knew that. It took people like her parents and people like the heroic Captain Lennox and people like her.

Another handful of people sat down, further along the picnic bench, and Will turned to talk to them. Bec looked at the still-uninteresting food, finally picked up a sandwich and took a bite. After that, she ate it quickly-she hadn’t realized she’d been so hungry. She hadn’t thought she’d been hungry at all.

Bec finished and stood, wandering away from the table towards a stand of scrubby trees. She couldn’t quite tell what they were from where she was… And it was getting dark. Dusk had fallen.

She broke off a twig and pressed a finger into the watery sap, fiddled with a leaf. It wasn’t a very interesting tree. She missed her home, and her garden, and the firs that made it impossible to grow anything that needed more than partial sun, try as she might with the tomatoes.

And then one of the shadowy cars to the side of the trees, she’d assumed it had been one of the Secretary of Defense’s, stood up, and Bec couldn’t help herself. She screamed.

And then the shadow-shrouded figure shot at her, and Bec went dumb with shock.

--end chapter 3--