Work Text:
Warning(s): T, sexual assault attempt
He wasn’t out of her life; not for good like she’d thought. Weeks had passed since their farewell, teary and full of emotions that were difficult to bring to paper. Working on the Corvette made time pass with a little less of an ache, and the anticipation of going away to college once her gap year was over and done with filled her with a happy sense of anticipation. There was her job at the boardwalk, and she’d become inseparable friends with Memo.
Things were good. At least topically.
Sometimes she still saw a driverless, yellow Camaro. It never seemed to be close, or draw much attention, either. The windows were usually tinted so heavily that it was hard to think of peering inside. Even if the curiosity was there, pounding in the walls of her heart.
So, she just learned to ignore the sightings. Chalking them up as coincidence, that maybe it was attributable to Beverly Hills big wigs cruising through town rather than her close friend.
Work was a steady monotony. Between dipping hot dogs in vats of grease to fry up on a stick and gradually warming her uncle to the idea of him taking her under his wing, it was enough to do. She filled her mind with blueprints of cars, of studying the latest car parts they sometimes imported from Japan.
She was helping out more around the house, too. Sally and Ron had noticed a marked change in attitude, especially since the government had been willing to compensate them for the damages Bumblebee had unintentionally made. Even though she hadn’t made amends with Tina or Tripp Summers, at least she was sticking up for herself more. The doormat they’d been able to walk on was no more and had become the rug she pulled out from under them instead.
Even so, it still felt too ordinary. Like the call to adventure she’d been dragged into had made her feel more alive than anything before it. That what she was doing now was just existing and nothing more.
“Hey.”
Pulled from her thoughts, Charlie looked up to see Tripp Summers leaning on the sill of the counter where people placed their orders. Remembering her own state of underdress, she self-consciously glanced down at herself before matching his like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Oh, hey. Did you want to order something...?” she began cautiously, wondering if it wasn’t one of Tina’s schemes. Gingerly did she glance over and around him, wondering if Tina’s pack wasn’t nearby and cattily remarking on the entire ordeal.
“Actually, I kinda wanted to ask you out on a date,” he replied with a coy smirk, leaning on the counter to accentuate his physique like men did in all the movies, cocksure they’d get the girl. He looked like the cat about to get the canary, to boot.
Glancing over her shoulder, making sure her manager wouldn’t catch them, she broached with a skeptical look, “Hang on, Tripp--not that any girl wouldn’t love to be in this position, but--you’re not pulling my leg or something, are you? Because I do not want an angry or...potentially amused blonde and her posse ragging about this.”
He raised a placating hand in accession. “Nah, I get it. Thing is, Tina and I are over. Her whole pettiness gets really old, you know? You look cool, though. And like someone who’d be willing to eat a burger.” That admittedly got a snort and short laugh from her. “What if you and I hit up the old arcade? Y’know, just something really chill. Soda, burgers, all the games we can play. You in?”
Truthfully, that did sound like fun. Between the monotony of routine and how she’d been living life like a clockwork soldier, Charlie needed something different. A stone to chuck in the stagnant waters of a pond.
Charlie nodded and smiled crookedly. “Sure. After my shift? I get off at five and if you give me some time to change, I’d be all set to go.”
“Sounds like a deal, Watson. See you at six?”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
Unbelievably, she wound up having more fun than she initially believed she would.
Back in high school, Tripp Summers had been the unattainable jock and the very definition of the It boy. Star quarterback of their football team with promises of advancing on to an storied career as a college football player to professional, good grades, Prom King with the most popular girl in school on his arm for all four years through, he was everything she thought she’d never be able to even talk to.
There had been some exchanges. Asking if he could copy biology homework, or asking for a pencil; even the odd, “What the hell is this?” at school pep rallies that saw them interacting with the school’s cringe-worthy mascot. A beaver with a huge, floppy tail. No one was enthused to be it, much less interact like most sports teams did.
Then there was that one accident of soiling a customer’s order, and the goading to get her to dive.
Otherwise, they hadn’t interacted much beyond that.
“See, the trick is, you have to get in this tiny hole in the quarter, right? It’s sorta like lock picks do: like so.” Tripp demonstrated in a flourish with a quarter drilled through and tied with string, grinning at Charlie as the stooped by the Galaga game and popped the quarter inside, the screen acknowledging the deposit before Tripp yanked it free again. “See? Nice, huh?”
“Whoa, cool. Can you do that again? I’m so not letting you win this round,” Charlie goaded as he did so, continuing with their hours-long foray through the arcade and playing as many rounds as they could.
“Best two out of three?” Tripp simpered at her.
“You’re on!”
Eventually, the hours spanned into twilight and it soon grew dark by the time the arcade closed and they cruised in Tripp’s car on the way home.
“Hey, you mind if we make a stop? The view from here is killer.” Charlie assented, already in agreement for a sight she’d seen before.
Tripp banked to the right and they ascended the shallow hill crowned with tough, swaying sea grass and sandy soil that plunged headlong into the crashing sea. True to his word, the sight was one to behold as downtown San Francisco seemed to be spangled with stars and veins of white and red where traffic moved through the sleepless city. The red giant of the Golden Gate Bridge stood ever-constant vigil, the crowning glory.
“Whoa, check out that view,” Charlie marveled appreciatively, craning in her seat. However, the seat itself was suddenly dipped back and the girl uttered a startled sound, light blocked out by Tripp’s enigmatically expressed face. Charlie furrowed her brows at him. “Uh, Tripp--“
Charlie froze up the second she felt Tripp’s breath descend and ghost on her face, lips then smothering her own as her eyes shot wide in surprise. His weight shifted over and he straddled her, feeling the unpleasant sensation of his hand skimming the waistband of her jeans and searching upwards.
“Tripp, hey--what are you doing--” However, she was quieted again with another unwelcome kiss, lips crammed messily against hers. “Tripp!”
“Charlie, just relax. It’ll be fine, promise,” Tripp laughed as though it were nothing, as if he weren’t astride her, forcing her into something she never asked for or consented to. She could smell alcohol on his breath, but it sure as hell didn’t excuse this!
Charlie wasn’t passive, that was for sure.
Deciding she’d had enough when he tried to kiss her again, Charlie kneed his groin as hard as she could and Tripp jolted up from it in recoil, head smacking the roof of his car as he swore loudly and cursed Charlie as she fumbled with the lock and practically tumbled from the car, an indignant and enraged Tripp following suit.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Watson?” he roared as they stood in attrition, arms flung open. “Why do you have to act like such a fucking bitch?!”
“You tried to force yourself on me!” Charlie shouted back, crossing her arms at him. “You didn’t even think to ask what I wanted!”
Tripp reared his head back incredulously. “What the fuck do you think guys with girls come up here to do, Watson? Fucking stargaze?!”
Out of the blue, the dull, metallic staccato of footfalls temporarily quelled as Charlie took a step back at who suddenly approached in a fury, eyes a fuming red as Tripp was hauled by a fistful of his shirt like a kitten by their scruff. The young man yelled out fearfully as he was suddenly dangled helplessly several feet off the ground, kicking his feet uselessly.
“What the hell is that?!” he cried out in horror at the sight of Bumblebee glaring at Tripp angrily, an intimidating series of disapproving clicks and whistles sounded. He gaped at Bee helplessly, the Autobot narrowing his eyes dangerously.
“Bee?”
That alone was enough to call off the edgy crimson in Bee’s gaze, softening to a familiar blue, antennae perking receptively at the sound of her voice. Tripp was unceremoniously dropped to the ground in an unscrupulous heap, barking a shout as he was while Bumblebee stepped over him and squatted before Charlie with an affectionate expression.
“Hey, my hero,” Charlie beamed as she craned herself to plant a kiss on Bee’s receptive brow. In the background, she could hear Tripp scramble into his car and speed off in a spray of dust. Good riddance. She’d be calling his parents in the morning, that was for sure. See how he liked it.
“Are you alright, Charlie?” Bee inquired gently, patting off her head like when they’d first met.
Charlie sighed gustily. “In desperate need of a shower and to brush my teeth, but--yeah, I’d say so.” Without warning did she walk into his proximity, circling her arms around his neck as Bee craned into it, their brows touching.
“You know, he did make one good point about this place,” Charlie admitted as she leaned on Bee’s chest plate, smiling conspiratorially. With the way Bee’s eyes seemed to lid, their thought process was likely the same. ”...Do you want to? ...You know.”
Her heartbeat spiked when Bumblebee slowly sprawled out on his back, eyes sinking closed while Charlie pulled herself a little higher for a better angle, sealing the space between them with a slow kiss, Bee’s hand hovering over the small of her back.
Might as well salvage the night with someone she truly loved, right?