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Warning(s): G, none
She couldn’t believe it’d already been almost two months since her life had been turned upside down. A life she should would never see that happen, and--it’d felt empty. Emptier than it should’ve, she knew. Beyond finished with high school, with her gap year well into itself, it struck Charlie how empty it’d felt without a certain transforming robot.
Thankfully, neither of them could keep away.
Apparently, they’d be with Sector 7 longer than she originally imagined, learning that Optimus had negotiated with General Whalen that was moving on to the American government. In exchange for asylum, the Autobots were charged with both defense against the Decepticons and to collaborate on missions integral to both parties involved.
And because of it, Charlie had her best friend back again.
“Wait, you seriously mean you have Transformers that tiny?” Charlie’s face was happily flushed with laughter, sitting cross-legged on the hood of the Corvette and slouching contently. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes. Apparently, they were medbots or something of the like, but possessed real attitudes.
Her eyes shone with mirth as Bee squatted across from her, knees gathered to his chest while the radio dial jumped erratically, myriad voices elaborating on the story. “They really sting if you try and crush them, too,” Bee said, finishing with a series of chirps and whistles like chuckling. “Don’t try it.”
“Aw, not even once?” Charlie simpered, feigning a hurt pout. God, it felt so good to have him back. Bee just fit so naturally into her life it was hard to think of it without him. Nevermind that she was considered to be under Optimus’ protection. Distantly, she considered him like a paternal figure, even if they hadn’t really met yet. And eternally grateful for letting Bee back into her life, for whatever the reason.
Bumblebee chirped and perked his head when the distant popping of fireworks could be heard, suddenly hyper-vigilant as he gathered his legs under him and buzzed in warning, like a threat was immanent.
“Bee?” Quieting herself for a long moment, she stilled until she heard it, too. “Oh, I guess they have fireworks on. It is the 4 th of July, after all. Huh, what time is it?”
However, when Bee pulled Charlie off the hood, behind him, and she heard the Autobot’s battle visor unfurl, Charlie’s brows puckered in confusion as to what was even happening. When the popping of more fireworks exploding in the sky sounded even nearer, despite being muffled by the garage, catching sight of Bee’s gaze following the sound brought alarm to flutter anxiously in her chest.
“Bee, hang on a second,” Charlie soothed as she emerged from behind Bee’s back, holding out her hands placatingly. When the visor snapped back into place, Bee’s eyes glistening a familiar blue again and antennae perking affectionately, she knew she had his attention again.
Bracing for another moment, ensuring that Bee had calmed, she inched towards the garage door and cracked it open, poking her head outside and marveling at what she saw. However, knowing it’d be foolish to bring Bee outside before he was prepared, she dipped back inside.
“Okay, so--on earth, we have these things called pyrotechnics, right? Fireworks, explosives--thing is, fireworks aren’t the bad kind. They’re launched into the sky and they make these huge, beautiful flowers. Like--daffodils, yeah! D’you wanna see, Bee? You might like it,” she enticed with a glowing smile.
Chirping curiously, eyes round with curiosity, Charlie opened the garage door enough so that Bumblebee could also stick his head outside just enough, stunned into silence for a moment as Charlie watched him be completely awestruck by the fireworks and the light that played colorfully in his optics.
Subtly did Charlie, overcome with a wave of tenderness, lean into Bumblebee’s side and rest her cheek comfortably nice on his shoulder. The tension in his shoulders seemed to lessen as she did, sagging enough that elicited a slight and soft giggle.
“See? What’d I tell you? Pretty, huh?”
Bee glanced shyly away, sheepish. “Flower-makers. Flowers for Charlie,” the Autobot reasoned, summoning a sweet blush in the brunette.
Flower-makers. Yeah, she liked that.