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A clock strikes in the town square. Twelve loud, ringing gongs of the bell within the courthouse. Midnight, the humans call it. The point when the darkness is its deepest and the moon at its highest.
Well, that was clearly the original intent. But as Havoc pulls through the center of the little town, she can’t help but note that the moon peaked hours ago. Muse laughs softly as her boom-box alt mode the passenger seat, her holomatter avatar miming the sound, when Havoc brings it up.
“They’re not good at math, sweetspark. We can’t blame them too much. Besides, they recharge when the moon is out. I can’t imagine they know much about their pretty silver satellite.”
Havoc revs her engine in annoyance. It wasn’t an excuse. It was negligence. Besides, what about those full moon animal-men?
Muse taps her fingers against the wheel scoldingly. “Those aren’t real, Havoc. We’ve talked about the folk stories. They’re made to frighten the young into obedience.”
Before Havoc can respond, blue and red lights flash in the rear view mirror, the police car close enough that Havoc’s interior is painted in the colorful strobe. Muse grumbles, glancing in the mirror before rolling her eyes.
“Just Prowl. I see his badge.”
Muse slips out of Havoc’s cab, running her fingers over the top edge of the car door window before turning her attention on Prowl’s holomatter as it materializes beside her. Havoc can’t help but note the disparity between them.
Prowl was unmistakable even in such an unfamiliar form. Standing tall with his arms crossed over his chest. His face was drawn into a very familiar frown, eyebrows knit together. His avatar was plain: a human man in his early forties, moderate skin tone and medium brown hair, dark eyes. He blended in, as someone his age very well should.
Muse’s avatar was a stark contrast. Deep brown skin, vibrant dyed hair, honey colored eyes. She and Havoc had spent a lot of time studying people before designing their own avatars. Muse was an attention grabber, and her avatar matched her well.
“Muse, Havoc. Your patrol ended over an hour ago, and I’ve not received a report from either of you. Do you enjoy making me hunt you down?”
Yes.
The comm only goes to Muse, who manages to keep her amusement off of her avatar’s expression.
“Sir, there’s never anything to report. If something happens, you know I’ll tell you.”
Prowl’s scowl deepens. Havoc gives her engine a rev of warning as he starts to speak, and he turns his ire onto her.
“You’re awfully quiet, troublemaker. Nothing to say? Or are you letting your conjunx keep you in line for once?”
Havoc scoffs, just wishing she were in root mode so she could swipe a servo through that smug face he projected onto his holomatter so effortlessly.
“More like you told us no talking in our alt modes, aft-hat. Or do you just want to complain about me?”
Prowl huffs. “Well. Miss Muse could choose better company for her patrols, surely, but if she’s going to insist on continuing to juxtaposition herself with a former Decepticon…”
Havoc revs her engines again, a loud warning to change the subject. Muse interjects before Prowl can continue his disparagements.
“I just submitted the report. Now, I’m pretty sure there’s no rule against joyriding when we’re off duty so can I please get back to doing that?”
Prowl makes a face, but he’s clearly received the report.
“Fine. But don’t make a habit of this. And make sure you keep her in line.”
Muse mimes a salute at him before getting back into Havoc’s driver’s seat. They wait until Prowl is gone, peeling away into the night.
“You know he doesn’t–”
“Of course he means it. He hates all us defects. Me, Drift, Jetfire. I bet the Matrix of Leadership itself could choose each one of us and that still wouldn’t be good enough for him. Look at his Forgelings, for Pit’s sake! He’s even harder on Hot Rod than he is on the defectors, and Roddy’s, like, the Autobot!”
Muse chuckles and runs a hand over the center console, smiling as Havoc shudders with appreciation. She doesn’t have to say anything to know that Havoc understands. Prowl’s opinion doesn’t matter. Pit, even Optimus Prime himself couldn’t change Muse’s mind about the muscle car. Havoc saved Muse’s life. Defected from the Decepticons as her Act of Devotion. There was a bond between them that a few harsh words and a little bit of bad energon could never sever.