Six Hours
folder
S through Z › Transformers (Movie Only)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,559
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Transformers (Movie Only)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,559
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Hasbro or Transformers. Or Starscream (SIGH!!!) I don't make any money writing this stuff.
Banner
(AN: about halfway done after this. He's referring to events in my non pervy fic "Prisoner" which is over at fanfiction.net under username antepathy. In case you care. You probably don't.)
She heard engines roar overhead, then cut out, abruptly. The jet landed agilely on his feet in the courtyard of the U shaped building. He seemed pleased that she was waiting for him. She felt like an idiot—she’d actually gotten dressed—a flowery sundress that probably looked like a mess of greys and blacks in the darkness. He’d only seen her not in crappy stuff like jeans and t shirts once. She’d even done the whole eyeliner thing. Why now? She told herself it was to do something to fill the half hour, since her body wasn’t at all interested in sleep.
He crouched down closer. “Your appearance looks…effortful,” he said. “Is the effort for me?”
Right then, Jennifer wanted to fall through the floor. His tactlessness was mortifying at times. “Uh, yeah.” She stared at the pavement, feeling her face flush to the ears.
He tilted his head to one side. “It disguises your shape. It is…intriguing.”
Please, she thought, change the subject.
“You have done something to your eyes as well,” he said. Dammit, would he stop noticing? “It is very attractive. You may do this again.”
Her mortification changed to laughter. “So I have your permission.”
“You do. Now, where is this banner?”
Bad to worse on the embarrassment scale. She gestured vaguely. “Other side of the building. By the parking lot.” She’d hoped he would just let it go. No such luck.
“I shall inspect. Would you like me to assist you?” He extended a hand to her. She sighed, and stepped on, holding one of his thumb talons for balance. He walked, a little more carefully than she’d seen him do before, around the U toward the parking lot. He sat down in front of the banner, considering. “Do you humans normally use this much color in your written communications?”
She laughed. “Not really.”
“What is that thing in the corner and what is it doing?”
“It’s supposed to be a bear. It’s our school mascot. And it’s supposed to be waving.” She sucked at drawing—even she could laugh at this.
“It does not look like any of your bears that I have seen. And that would make a better attack gesture.”
“It’s supposed to be a teddy-bear. A kid’s toy. A stuffed animal. I told you, to make everything seem friendly and kind of goofy.”
“Ah,” his eyes went distant for an instant, which she’d learned to associate with him accessing some data. “I see. A specific kind of bear. They must live some place I have not yet seen.”
Jennifer giggled. There was no sense in explaining this to him. It would only cause more questions and sooner or later she wouldn’t be able to answer them. He watched her reaction, a little confused as to what she found so amusing.
“Ah, yes,” he said, settling her in front of him. “I was beginning to tell you. When I was first on my own. Do you wish to hear the story?”
“Will it make as much sense as that other story you told me once? About the ambush?”
“All of my stories make the same amount of sense, yes.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.” She didn’t have high hopes that she’d follow the moral of this story any better than the last one.
“Those of us who can fly—you might not know that not all Cybertronians have this ability—have to undergo a test of our navigational instincts. You humans can only move in two dimensions—we must move in three. And in space, one must be able to navigate without a fixed referent. You understand?”
“So far.”
“We are led out by the older Seekers, some coordinates we have never been. They overpulse us, and we come back online probably several of your hours later, alone. We must find our way home.”
“They just leave you there? There’s not like, anyone watching over you?”
“That would obviate the purpose of the test. We are alone. It is…frightening.” His voice dropped on the last word, as if he didn’t want to admit to it.
“So, like, if you don’t come back in a certain amount of time, they send someone out for you, right? To look for you?”
“No. If you cannot find your way home, you are not a Seeker.” He said it like it was the simplest thing in the universe and that she was a little dull for not understanding it.
“You could die!”
“Indeed. Many do.” He noticed the distress on her face. “Do not be upset, Jennifer human, I passed that test. Long ago.” He gave a strangely sad smile. “What I remember most is that when I returned…there was nothing. No recognition at all. As if it did not even matter, what we had been through in those terrifying cycles. Those who did not return got a remembrance ceremony, of course. Those of us who succeeded…we had no banner, silly or otherwise.”
He looked down at her in the circle of his long legs, his hands hanging limp, studying the expression on her face. He traced the line of her shoulder and arm with one hand. “I did not mean to distress you,” he said, softly. “It is just what I know of being out on my own.”
She managed a smile, but only because he didn’t seem to want her looking sad.
He nodded his head in satisfaction at her smile. “Now, Jennifer human, we still 4.78 hours remaining. How shall we spend them?”
Despite herself she shuddered. “You make it sound so final.” What else could she think after his story?
He laughed easily. “Oh, no. Simply that that is what remains to us tonight. There will be other nights.” He slid one exploratory talon up the hem of her skirt. “That is, if you actually ever contact me,” he teased.
She heard engines roar overhead, then cut out, abruptly. The jet landed agilely on his feet in the courtyard of the U shaped building. He seemed pleased that she was waiting for him. She felt like an idiot—she’d actually gotten dressed—a flowery sundress that probably looked like a mess of greys and blacks in the darkness. He’d only seen her not in crappy stuff like jeans and t shirts once. She’d even done the whole eyeliner thing. Why now? She told herself it was to do something to fill the half hour, since her body wasn’t at all interested in sleep.
He crouched down closer. “Your appearance looks…effortful,” he said. “Is the effort for me?”
Right then, Jennifer wanted to fall through the floor. His tactlessness was mortifying at times. “Uh, yeah.” She stared at the pavement, feeling her face flush to the ears.
He tilted his head to one side. “It disguises your shape. It is…intriguing.”
Please, she thought, change the subject.
“You have done something to your eyes as well,” he said. Dammit, would he stop noticing? “It is very attractive. You may do this again.”
Her mortification changed to laughter. “So I have your permission.”
“You do. Now, where is this banner?”
Bad to worse on the embarrassment scale. She gestured vaguely. “Other side of the building. By the parking lot.” She’d hoped he would just let it go. No such luck.
“I shall inspect. Would you like me to assist you?” He extended a hand to her. She sighed, and stepped on, holding one of his thumb talons for balance. He walked, a little more carefully than she’d seen him do before, around the U toward the parking lot. He sat down in front of the banner, considering. “Do you humans normally use this much color in your written communications?”
She laughed. “Not really.”
“What is that thing in the corner and what is it doing?”
“It’s supposed to be a bear. It’s our school mascot. And it’s supposed to be waving.” She sucked at drawing—even she could laugh at this.
“It does not look like any of your bears that I have seen. And that would make a better attack gesture.”
“It’s supposed to be a teddy-bear. A kid’s toy. A stuffed animal. I told you, to make everything seem friendly and kind of goofy.”
“Ah,” his eyes went distant for an instant, which she’d learned to associate with him accessing some data. “I see. A specific kind of bear. They must live some place I have not yet seen.”
Jennifer giggled. There was no sense in explaining this to him. It would only cause more questions and sooner or later she wouldn’t be able to answer them. He watched her reaction, a little confused as to what she found so amusing.
“Ah, yes,” he said, settling her in front of him. “I was beginning to tell you. When I was first on my own. Do you wish to hear the story?”
“Will it make as much sense as that other story you told me once? About the ambush?”
“All of my stories make the same amount of sense, yes.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.” She didn’t have high hopes that she’d follow the moral of this story any better than the last one.
“Those of us who can fly—you might not know that not all Cybertronians have this ability—have to undergo a test of our navigational instincts. You humans can only move in two dimensions—we must move in three. And in space, one must be able to navigate without a fixed referent. You understand?”
“So far.”
“We are led out by the older Seekers, some coordinates we have never been. They overpulse us, and we come back online probably several of your hours later, alone. We must find our way home.”
“They just leave you there? There’s not like, anyone watching over you?”
“That would obviate the purpose of the test. We are alone. It is…frightening.” His voice dropped on the last word, as if he didn’t want to admit to it.
“So, like, if you don’t come back in a certain amount of time, they send someone out for you, right? To look for you?”
“No. If you cannot find your way home, you are not a Seeker.” He said it like it was the simplest thing in the universe and that she was a little dull for not understanding it.
“You could die!”
“Indeed. Many do.” He noticed the distress on her face. “Do not be upset, Jennifer human, I passed that test. Long ago.” He gave a strangely sad smile. “What I remember most is that when I returned…there was nothing. No recognition at all. As if it did not even matter, what we had been through in those terrifying cycles. Those who did not return got a remembrance ceremony, of course. Those of us who succeeded…we had no banner, silly or otherwise.”
He looked down at her in the circle of his long legs, his hands hanging limp, studying the expression on her face. He traced the line of her shoulder and arm with one hand. “I did not mean to distress you,” he said, softly. “It is just what I know of being out on my own.”
She managed a smile, but only because he didn’t seem to want her looking sad.
He nodded his head in satisfaction at her smile. “Now, Jennifer human, we still 4.78 hours remaining. How shall we spend them?”
Despite herself she shuddered. “You make it sound so final.” What else could she think after his story?
He laughed easily. “Oh, no. Simply that that is what remains to us tonight. There will be other nights.” He slid one exploratory talon up the hem of her skirt. “That is, if you actually ever contact me,” he teased.