Chapter Text
“Go! Go! Go!”
“I am!”
“Well go faster!” Jaime barked. Sideswipe revved his engine loudly in response and shifted gears, pouring on an extra burst of speed. The sliver Corvette Stingray drifted to the side briefly to swerve around a sand dune and continued forward at a blistering pace. The force of acceleration pressed Jaime further into the passenger backrest, costing the girl a few seconds to pull herself forward enough so that she could twist around and peer through the rear windshield.
“How is he still gaining on us?” she demanded.
“Pit if I know!” Sideswipe bit out as he tried to shake their persistent shadow. “Mech’s a fragging ninja!” Jaime watched Prowl’s black and white alt mode inch closer and closer. She thought he would have given up by now after the fifth lap. Was it anger that made him stick to his pursuit? Old habits made dread pool in her stomach.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Jaime muttered lowly to her partner in crime. It wasn’t like they had anywhere to escape to on the island — Diego Garcia to be exact.
“Are you kidding?” Sideswipe laughed freely, soothing the worst of her nerves.“Super gluing everything down in Prowl’s office? That was brilliant!” Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. It was nearly impossible to remain troubled in the prankster’s presence.
WEEEOOOEEEOOOEEEOOOEEE!
Jaime snorted at the sound of Prowl switching his sirens back on. Sideswipe’s radio crackled and the tactician’s no-nonsense tone filled the cab.
:: Sideswipe, pull over. :: Prowl ordered through the twin’s comm.
:: Aw, come on Prowl. :: Sides taunted, completely ignoring the command. :: Don’t you just love racing? :: Jaime fought a grin as he veered around yet another sand dune, now heading back to base. She could feel Prowl’s patience wearing thin but he still did not resort to more extreme measures to stop Sideswipe. Normally he would have stopped issuing warnings and escalated to more forceful measures on the silver prankster, but he held back. Jaime knew it was because of her. It was one of the reasons Sides liked having her as a fellow collaborator. But that exploit had a limit.
“You do realize he’ll eventually catch up to you when you’re alone and throw you in the brig then, right?”
“So worth it,” Sideswipe snickered, dragging a small grin out of her, as he sped closer to base.
A lot happened in the past year. The biggest change would be the new NEST base. Hoover Dam soon became too crowded and conspicuous for their growing numbers. So the government’s solution was to ship the Autobots to a small island in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Neither Sarah nor Will had been happy about that arrangement, and Annabelle threw quite the tantrum. Jaime remembered the agitated look on Ironhide’s face when he was unable to calm her down.
But that hadn’t even been the worst part.
They waited to make the official move until school was out for the summer so Jaime could join them. Her connection to the Allspark (as seen through the solidifying bonds shared with the Autobots and Ratchet’s extensive notes) only grew stronger and Optimus refused to leave Jazz without nearby backup should the Decepticons learn about her unique condition. Not that Annabelle was aware of that, since it was severely regulated and kept to a strict need-to-know basis.
*****
“Why does she get to go?” Annabelle whined, not for the first time.
“I told you,” Will sighed softly, “the bad robots might come after her.”
“The ones with the red eyes?” the little girl sniffled.
“That’s right, honey,” Sarah, who was aware of Jaime’s unique abilities, reached out and gently wiped away the fresh tears. “She needs to be near the Autobots so they can keep her safe.”
“But I wanna go too!” Annabelle stomped her foot. “I wanna go with Hide!” Jaime glanced out the kitchen window, catching a flash of black metal.
“Sweetie,” Sarah reached out to, presumably, comfort the girl, but Annabelle was not easily pacified.
“No!” she shouted. “I wanna go too!”
“Annabelle — ” Will began, stepping closer.
“Why does she get to do everything!” Annabelle cried, tears coming back with a vengeance. “You always say no to me, but yes to her!” Jaime jerked back, surprised by the outburst. That wasn’t — she briefly glanced at Will and Sarah then back to Annabelle — that wasn’t true. If either of them were more likely to be favored, it should be Annabelle. She was theirs by blood. “You love her more!”
“Annabelle!” Sarah admonished.
“That’s not true,” Will’s expression hardened. But it was like she didn’t hear them as she frowned in Jaime’s direction.
“Everything was fine until you came!” Jaime’s stomach dropped to somewhere around her feet.
“I…I-I don’t…” she stuttered, failing to string together a basic sentence.
“Everyone likes you more!” Annabelle continued, face turning red. “Even Hide!”
“That’s completely absurd,” Ironhide groused from just outside, though Jaime wasn’t sure if anyone else heard it but her.
“I wish you never came!” Annabelle howled before turning on her heel and sprinting out of the kitchen and up the staircase.
“Annabelle!” Sarah marched after her, face thunderous. A bedroom door upstairs slammed shut. Jaime swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly, her eyes burning.
“Jaime,” Will reached toward her. “She didn’t mean that.”
“Yes she did,” she bit out before shooting out of the farmhouse. She made a beeline to the barn, seeking out Orion who was always happy to see her. Jaime didn’t come out that night, choosing to sleep in the tack room. Jazz’s holoform found her before she fell asleep, but he didn’t try to strike up a conversation with her (for which she was secretly relieved) instead merely kept her company.
Morning came far too quick and, before she knew it, the time to leave for the rendezvous point arrived.
“Don't get into too much trouble,” Sarah rattled off. “Listen to Will and Optimus.” The sound of someone clearing their throat came from the nearby Pontiac Solstice. The woman paused for a split-second to roll her eyes. “And Jazz.” The silver bot cheekily flashed his headlights, dragging out a soft giggle from Jaime. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth and make sure you stick to Ratchet’s meal guide. Oh, and drink plenty of milk — ”
“Okay, okay,” Jaime huffed lightly (pleased by the doting, though she’d never admit it) and Sarah paused, a reluctant look flashing across her face. “I’ll be fine. You…you don’t need to worry.” The woman pulled her into a tight hug which Jaime returned.
“I’ll always worry,” Sarah whispered into her ear. The words paired with her warm tone made Jaime’s stomach flip-flop pleasantly. When they parted, she noted that Will was frowning at the house, one upstairs window in particular. Annabelle hadn’t come out to say goodbye.
“I’ll go get her,” Will sighed, after sharing a look with Sarah.
“It’s fine,” Jaime spoke up, before he could march inside. The twin looks of disagreement made her skin crawl but she didn’t back down. “It’s fine.” Sure it hurt that Annabelle didn’t want to say goodbye to her, but the idea of the little girl being forced felt even worse.
“No, it’s not fine,” said Sarah in an even voice, but Jaime could still hear the half-hidden note of disapproval. She hugged herself and looked away.
“It’s fine,” she repeated forcefully, jaw clenched. An awkward silence fell over the front yard.
Jaime took a deep breath and deliberately walked over to Jazz’s waiting alt mode. He hesitantly popped the passenger side open for her and she slipped inside. Jaime didn’t even give him a chance to close the door, immediately reaching out and slamming it shut herself. A moment later the seatbelt slid across her torso, quietly clicking into place. The belt gently squeezed her, like a poor attempt of a hug, before relaxing. Jaime took another deep breath and slid lower in her seat.
Will and Sarah spoke lowly for a few moments before embracing and sharing a long kiss. Finally, Will headed to Ironhide’s cab and pulled himself into the driver seat.
And they were off.
*****
They had a few webcam sessions since then, and Annabelle even said sorry without any prompting from Will or Sarah — so the two girls were technically back on speaking terms. But the confrontation still made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
Jaime was jolted from her musings as Sideswipe’s tires found purchase on pavement. He was significantly faster on hard surfaces, and Prowl knew it. Which was probably why he herded the prankster off one of the many streets that crisscrossed the island in the first place. Sideswipe gunned his engine and easily pulled away from Prowl, who reached the pavement a handful of seconds later.
The police cruiser paused, likely recognizing the dwindling chance of catching up to the silver prankster. There were no other Autobots currently on base to assist him. Bumblebee remained in the United States to continue acting as Sam Witwicky’s guardian, and apparently join him at college. Optimus, Ironhide, and Ratchet were on a mission, investigating a Decepticon sighting somewhere in South America. While Jazz, Jolt, and the newly arrived Arcee triplets were in Europe for a similar reason.
Prowl remained at Diego Garcia for emergency standby, and Ratchet had yet to clear Sideswipe for active duty due to last week’s battle injury. Jaime had a pretty good guess what was going through the tactician’s mind, as he lingered far behind them, quickly learning to better decipher what certain flickers of emotion over the developing bonds meant. Prowl was the most stoic of the Autobots, preferring logic over emotions. But he still experienced them like everyone else. He just chose not to show it. Sometimes Jaime felt like the heavy emphasis on professionalism was used much like a mask, but she didn’t know him well enough (or have the confidence) to point it out. Judging by the faint feeling of resigned determination, Prowl would bide his time until Sideswipe was either too exhausted to flee or Jaime wasn’t around to stay his servo.
*****
“Hey Jaime.”
“Hi Mikaela,” she grinned and eagerly waved at the brunette on the computer screen. “How’s it going over there?” A few days had passed since the prank in Prowl’s office, and it was time for Jaime and Mikaela’s monthly webcam chat.
“Pretty good, I — hey! — ” Mikaela was cut off when a large mastiff entered the frame. “Down boy,” she gently pushed the large animal away, making it disappear from view.
“You got a dog?” Jaime gasped, eyes widening. She liked dogs and wouldn’t have minded one bit if Sarah and Will decided to get one. But given Ironhide’s (understandable) aversion to them, it was very unlikely to ever happen.
“Technically he’s a stray,” Mikaela shrugged. “I found him a few days ago hanging around the garage looking for a handout.”
“He’s so cute!” Jaime gushed and leaned forward, attempting to catch another glimpse of the mammoth-sized dog. “What’s his name?”
“I don’t know,” Mikaela admitted. “I put up some flyers around in case his owners are looking for him…but I’m beginning to think he was abandoned.” Jaime felt a pang of empathy for the dog. What kind of person just dumped a loving animal like that? Certainly not someone who deserved his unconditional affection. The mastiff reappeared to plop his head on Mikaela’s leg and she began to absentmindedly massage it. “So what’s new across the pond?”
“Well, Sides is in the brig,” Jaime shared, tapping her chin.
“That’s not new,” Mikaela rolled her eyes, making Jaime laugh. “What was it this time?”
“We…may or may not have super glued everything in Prowl’s office so he couldn’t move anything,” she quietly admitted, earning a snort.
“I’m not even going to ask how,” Mikaela shook her head. Movement in Jaime’s periphery caught her attention and she straightened to wave her hand.
“Maggie!” she called, attracting the blonde’s attention. Maggie Madsen and Glen Whitmann also relocated to NEST’s new Diego Garcia base. She was sad to note the dog was gone when she turned back to the screen.
“Hey Mikaela,” Maggie warmly greeted once she joined Jaime.
“Maggie, hi!” Mikaela perked up at the sight of the Australian. “I need your help with something.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Well…” Mikaela paused, expression twisting. “It’s Sam.”
“Boy troubles?” Maggie asked in a knowing voice. Jaime frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Mikaela offered a somewhat glum nod.
“What’s wrong?” Jaime asked. “Did something happen?” It sounded like things were going well between the couple the last time they talked.
“No, that’s the problem,” Mikaela sighed, shoulders slumping. “We’ve been together for over a year now and he still hasn’t said it.” Oh. Jaime had a hunch what this was about.
“Said what exactly?” Maggie tilted her head in confusion.
“I think she means the L word,” said Jaime. Mikaela had actually mentioned it before in passing, but she didn’t realized it was bothering the teen so much.
“Wait — seriously?” Maggie raised a brow.
“Seriously,” Mikaela groaned. “I mean, I know he’s kinda shy and all, but I guess he’s under the impression that I should say it first.”
“But most guys go running if the girl says it first,” Maggie nodded in understanding. Jaime blinked. Really?
“Exactly!” Mikaela exclaimed, hands gesturing vaguely as if to add emphasis.
“I don’t think it’s fair to say he’s like most guys,” Jaime muttered, feeling an obligation to defend him at least a little, but they didn’t seem to hear her.
“Okay, maybe he’s not ready to say it out loud,” Maggie continued with a soft exhale. “Does he at least show it in other ways? Like…through his actions?”
“Well, yea,” Mikaela answered haltingly. “It’s just…he’s going to college soon. Did you know he got into Princeton?”
“Really?” Jaime raised her brows in surprise. She vaguely recognized the name, in the manner of something she overheard adults talk about with admiration, so it must be impressive. Was that one of those fancy schools on the East Coast? Who knew ladiesman had it in him?
“He’s going to be meeting all these pretty college girls and I’m…” Jaime frowned as Mikaela trailed off.
“And you’re what?” she demanded. “Smart? Funny? Badass?” Mikaela blushed at the descriptors.
“All of the above,” Maggie chimed in with a smile, making the teen’s ears turn pink as well. “Maybe you could share an apartment near the college?” she tacked on.
“I can’t,” Mikaela groaned again, shaking her head. “I need to stick around the shop to help my dad.” Jaime tilted her head at the reminder. He must have been released since their last chat. She knew it was supposed to happen sometime late summer. She wondered how much time the former car thief ended up serving, but that felt too prying a question. Maggie hummed thoughtfully, the corner of her mouth turning downward.
“Why don’t you just say it first?” Jaime asked. It seemed like a straightforward solution, but…
“That never works,” Mikaela protested. “I come on too strong and the guy runs.” She flung her arms out, looking visibly upset. Jaime pursed her lips together into a firm line. Dating must be awfully complicated, she thought. Did marriage somehow change that? Because Will and Sarah weren’t restrained with their affection for each other. She didn’t remember her parents being like that either.
“I mean, I guess he can be kinda…high-strung,” Jaime allowed. “But he did face off against Megatron. How many guys can say that?” Sam deserved some credit, surely? Mikaela was silent for several moments as she seemed to ponder over that.
“Woof!” Maggie jerked back in surprise as the mastiff's head filled the computer screen once more.
“Hey! Knock it off boy,” Mikaela moved the dog aside so they could actually see her.
“I didn’t know you had a dog,” Maggie blinked, smile playing on her lips.
“He’s a stray,” the brunette explained shortly, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face.
“Does he have a name?” Maggie asked, leaning forward with obvious interest.
“Not yet. Any ideas?”
“Jack?” Maggie offered. “Dexter?”
“Bones?” Jaime added, eyeing the large folds around his mouth that seemed to collect drool.
“Hmm,” Mikaela tilted her head in consideration. “I like Bones.” The dog quietly panted beside her, seemingly more concerned about ear scratches than anything else.
“He’s a big dog,” someone off-screen protested. “You gotta give him a fitting name. Something tough and manly.” Mikaela briefly glanced away, presumably toward the unseen speaker, and back at a rather confused Maggie and Jaime.
“My dad,” she sighed. “Yesterday was his first day back.”
“Bones is a fine name,” Maggie argued.
“No it ain’t,” Mikaela’s dad disagreed from off-screen. Jaime made a face. Sure names were important, but what made a name manly? Tough she could understand. Something like Ironhide sounded tough, but manly?
“Fine,” Jaime huffed, not caring enough to pick a fight with Mikaela’s dad. “You can name him something ‘tough and manly’ like…Bonecrusher, and still call him Bones for short. You know, like a nickname.” There was a significant pause.
“I guess that works,” the off-screen voice grumbled and Mikaela sent Jaime an approving grin.
“Come here Bones,” she called to the mastiff (who had since disappeared during the whole naming debate), arms outstretched. Maggie and Jaime laughed when a brown blur filled the computer screen and the newly named Bonecrusher knocked Mikaela off her stool with overwhelming affection.
*****
Jaime glared at the floor, going as far to scuff it with her foot, as she ambled down the hallway. Today had been a really good day, up until five minutes ago. Her scowl deepened, hand curled into a fist and burrowed deep inside her shorts pocket. Honestly the absolute nerve of some people. How did someone like that get to be so insufferable? You would think being so unlikable would make someone unsuccessful in life but nooo.
The metal wall on her right disappeared suddenly and Jaime halted in her tracks, finding herself just outside the med bay right next to its entrance. She didn’t usually enter Ratchet’s domain unless absolutely necessary (i.e. her mandatory checkups) but in this case, it might just prove to be the best place to be right now.
Jaime hesitantly poked her head into the large room. Ratchet was hunched over something at the far counter she couldn’t quite make out.
“Hey Ratchet,” she greeted, strolling inside. The medic’s helm whipped around and the object disappeared. Subspace? Jazz explained the concept to her a few months ago. She wished she could do that, it sounded really cool. “What are you working on?”
“Just a personal project,” he answered after clearing his intakes. He tilted his helm to study her with narrowed optics. “Did you need something?”
“Not really,” she shrugged. A distraction maybe, but she was too embarrassed to outright ask Ratchet. He was usually busy, always working on something when he wasn’t fixing his fellow Autobots. She glanced around the med bay, wondering if it would be weird to sequester herself to a corner until the coast was clear. The CMO crossed his arms, his heavy gaze unwavering. “I — uh — was wondering if you need help with anything?” she tried. Ratchet shuttered his optics and she could feel his mild surprise.
“Are you planning some kind of prank?” he asked, surprise quickly turning to suspicion. “Is this meant to be a distraction?”
“What? No!” she instantly denied, half-raising her hand in surrender. Jeez, he was so cynical. She wasn't that bad, was she? Jaime liked Ratchet just fine, but most of their interactions had been limited to…well…She cleared her throat. “I was just, you know, looking for something to do.” She didn’t mind being in the med bay too much, probably because it was tied so closely to Ratchet in her mind. He continued to scrutinize Jaime, like he didn’t believe her.
“Is there something going on that I should know about?” he asked in a no-nonsense tone. Ugh, why did he have to be so stubborn? Jaime bit her lip, trying to think of an excuse that he would accept, before letting her shoulders slump.
“Galloway’s on base,” she admitted. She wasn’t scared, she just didn’t want to deal with him. Meeting him once was enough. Ratchet growled softly at the sound of the man’s name but bent down and offered Jaime his servo. She eagerly accepted the silent offer. Ratchet gently set her next to a collection of human-sized file cabinets that were almost as tall as her.
“The files in the far right cabinet need to be sorted into alphabetical order.” Jaime shot him a wide grin, relieved that he was willing to humor her unspoken request. Ratchet grumbled under his breath and he left her on the counter to (she assumed) return to whatever he was working on before.
Jaime hummed softly to herself as she focused on the assigned task. Jazz was right. Ratchet really was a big softie under the layers of surly complaints and empty threats to reformat troublemakers. She glanced at the medic out of the corner of her eye, wondering if the life-changing outcomes of the car accident would have been different if someone like Ratchet had been — she shook her head and refocused on the files. There was no point dwelling on that.
She didn’t really understand the intricacies of government, despite talking about the subject with Optimus on more than one occasion. Honestly, how could someone as annoying and thickheaded as Galloway climb through the ranks as high up as he was? Didn’t his superiors realize what an idiot he was? He didn’t seem to care about anyone but himself and his own self-importance. At least he didn’t have access to the Autobots, she thought. God help them if he ever got the clearance for that. Jaime froze. Did she just…nah. She wasn’t one of those paranoid superstitious people (what a sad way to live). No one could be dumb enough to trust Galloway with that much power.
The corner of her mouth turned upward. As grating as she found Galloway, their first and only meeting had been pretty funny, all things considered.
*****
It was like any other day on base. Autobots and NEST personnel went about their business, largely focused on their appointed duties and destinations. The monotony was broken by a small blur racing down the hallway. There were two reasons why the human NEST personnel tended to hug the corridors. The first was to avoid any (squishing) accidents. Not that it was an issue or there were any close calls, but the precaution seemed to mollify the more easily startled recruits. The second reason…was Jaime.
Ever since she was gifted the pair of rollerblades, her speeding figure became a common sight on base, particularly in the hallways. The numerous corridors of varying size and shape made for some very exciting games of tag. Jazz and Sideswipe were her usual associates, though Bumblebee had been known to join them during his rare visits to base. Since the Autobots possessed inhuman speed (even when utilizing their holoforms), Jaime was allowed the use of her rollerblades to help even the playing field.
There was the occasional moment when a newbie had not been made aware of hallway tag (though this dropped significantly when a warning about the practice was formally included during NEST initiation) and there was the risk of collision. But due to NEST’s strict recruitment guidelines, the newbie usually had fast enough reflexes to dive out of the way. Jaime would throw an apology over her shoulder as she sped by, but other than that, everyone would continue on like nothing unusual had occurred. To be fair, working with giant aliens robots had a way of redefining what one considered normal.
Unfortunately, when Jaime had the bright idea to cut around that day during their game of hallway tag, she was clueless to the brewing argument near the front entrance. She did not know of the suit unsuccessfully attempting to gain access to the base. So when Jaime flew around the corner of the hallway that connected to the front entrance, she was rather surprised to see Will and Epps arguing with a stranger — directly in her path.
“Look out!” Jaime shouted, moving too fast to safely stop in time. This particular corridor was narrower than most, and with the three men spread out as they were, there was no way to skate around them. Instinct drove Will and Epps to immediately press themselves against the wall.
“What?” the suit-wearing stranger snarled, turning to face Jaime. She had a split-second to question the man’s intellect (what part of her warning was unclear?) before barreling into him. They topped to the ground and landed in a painful heap with Jaime on top.
“Aw, shit,” she absently registered Epps mutter under his breath. Will quickly offered her his hand, which she accepted, and pulled Jaime up as the man in the suit scrambled to his feet. She rubbed her bruised knee, fighting down a scowl. The stranger brushed himself off (rather pompously, might she add) before peering down at her with clear disdain.
“What kind of base are you running, Major Lennox?” he glared at Will, not giving the man in question a chance to answer before plowing ahead. “This isn’t a daycare! Rollerblading in the halls?” He refocused on Jaime, making no attempt to hide his contempt. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” Jaime scoffed. Just who did this guy think he was?
“Better question,” she shot back, not caring for his tone. “Who are you?” The man bristled.
“Director Galloway, National Security Advisor of the president,” he listed off, allowing himself a small smirk at her startled blink. Say what? Her eyes briefly flicked over to Will, who appeared to be wearing his forced patience expression. She supposed that being advisor to the president could be considered impressive, but not nearly as cool as meeting robot aliens from outer space. “Who are you?” the man demanded when the silence stretched. She eyed the director, shifting her weight on her rollerblades. A quick glance toward Will earned her a near indiscernible shrug. Well, her name wasn’t exactly a secret.
“…Jaime.” Galloway’s mouth curled into a victorious smile.
“And why are you here?” If he had to ask, she mused, then he definitely didn’t have the clearance to know that answer.
“Classified,” she allowed herself a small grin, enjoying his pinched expression. She didn’t give him the chance to continue the impromptu interrogation. Jaime spun around and skated back the way she came.
*****
Jaime was brought back to the present at the sound of Ratchet’s annoyed grunt.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, abandoning the file cabinet to face him. The medic wore an unpleasant expression, unlike his customary grumpy one. She picked up the faint feeling of discomfort over the bond they shared.
“It’s nothing,” he waved her off without even looking away from the datapad in his servo.
“Ratchet,” she warned. He was almost as bad as Prowl when it came to workaholic tendencies. Had he gone too long without recharging again? She studied him for any signs of exhaustion. The CMO finally looked up to send a cranky glare her way, but there was no heat behind. “I will call Optimus,” she threatened, fist on her hip. Ratchet made a face and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘meddling femme’.
“Ironhide just found out Galloway is on base,” he shared with an annoyed vent. Jaime made an ‘oh’ noise, dropping her now uncurled hand back to her side, then snorted lightly. She wondered if Ironhide would punt the oil tank again. The shooting range was still being rebuilt from the last time he demolished it.
Jaime stayed in the med bay alphabetizing the files for Ratchet, even an hour after Galloway left. Once she finally finished, she headed to the cafeteria to eat dinner with Will and his team. She burned some time in the rec room and finally headed back to her bedroom once her eyelids began to droop.
Unlike the Hoover Dam base — which was mostly comprised of giant hangars — the Diego Garcia base could be divided into three general sections. There was the ‘human’ side, the ‘Autobot’ side, and the mixed use area. Unlike the rest of NEST personnel, Jaime’s room was located on the Autobot side. She didn’t mind the size difference like others seemed to. After nearly a year of strengthening the bonds she shared with them, she felt more at ease with the bots around.
Jaime paused in the hallway to enter her code and the human-sized metal door slid open. Next to it was a much larger Autobot-sized entrance. She slowly climbed the spiral staircase attached to her loft and flopped on her bed.
Since she was on the Autobot side, her room was Autobot-sized. It was the smallest of the bedrooms, compared to the other bots’ rooms. But it was still huge to her, and several times larger than her bedroom at the Lennox farm. A balcony had been added to place furniture and her personal belongings, so she didn’t feel like a small ant in a giant metal box. The raised loft took up almost half the room. Jaime could sit on her bed and converse with any of the bots — who easily fit in the other half of the room — without craning her neck up at them from the floor.
Jaime exhaled and heaved herself up to get ready for bed. She changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth — she had her own mini bathroom — and burrowed under the covers, enjoying the warm cocoon-like feel. Before falling asleep she sent a goodnight tug to Jazz, who was right across the hall. The last thing she remembered before drifting to sleep was his answering tug.
*****
She floated in the dark inky void. She might have found the out-of-body sensation disconcerting if it wasn’t a somewhat regular occurrence.
A familiar presence brushed up against her and she eagerly drifted forward. It took many visits to learn to navigate this weird in-between.
Hi friend!
A flicker of reluctant amusement, paired with underlying contentment.
She prodded the presence, curious about its well-being.
A moment of hesitation. Then…a flash of sharp pain — twisting, burning, Primus-make-it-stop — never gonna talk fragger — a single fiery red optic that inspired deep-rooted DrEaD — got to keep them safe, keep him safe, keep FiGhTiNg — pipe-sucking Screamer, want to RiP hIs StUpId OpTiCs OuT —
She jerked back in surprise. Screamer? Was that?…But —
What is it? Where are you going?
Sorry! Sorry. Screamer? Starscream?
Fragging coward. Oooh, that was a lot of anger. She dropped it.
They reconnected and drifted along together, resonating like two crystals. Nothing but them and the inky void. Time didn’t exist here.
Sideswipe got thrown into the brig again.
Fond exasperation.
Of course he did.
Ironhide tested a new combination with his cannons. Oil. Boom. Lots of fire.
Mild curiosity.
Hatchet is still Hatchet. Buries his spark under fifty layers of grump.
Naturally.
Prowl was running around putting out fires. Metaphorically. Not real fires.
Did he glitch?
No.
Pity.
That’s not nice, she chided mildly.
Hmm.
Jazz has been testing how loud he can crank his new speakers. The others are close to offlining him.
An unusual wave of sympathy.
…Optimus looks tired. He’s so busy lately.
That sounds like him.
They continued like this, going back and forth for an indeterminate amount of time.
Eventually the visit came to an end and she felt the vague tugging sensation that preceded consciousness.
I have to go.
Disappointment.
Sorry.
The presence grudgingly let go and she floated away.
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