Getting to Know You 4 part 2

[dream_it_all]

Go back to part 1

oOo

Bec was prying dandelions out of the lawn-she needed something to do, after all-with a dibber (1) and humming tunelessly to herself when Judy found her that afternoon. It was her third day at the Witwicky house.

“Hello,” Bec said as the older woman approached, shifting so she was sitting back on her haunches and looking up at her, shading her eyes with one hand against the bright summer sun.

“Hi,” Judy replied. “You know, you don’t need to do this-I can’t imagine weeding a lawn is any fun-even Ron avoids it, and he’s devoted to that grass.”

‘I like to keep busy,” Bec explained, standing up so she was on a more equal footing with Judy and clasping her hands together to try and wring off some of the dust. “And really, it’s not too odious a chore. It gives me something to do.”

Judy shook her head. “I can’t imagine what you would consider an ‘odious chore,’ then.”

“Algebra,” said Bec promptly, ducking her head to hide a smile. Judy laughed.

“I never disliked algebra all that much-I liked math class. It wasn’t my favorite subject, but wasn’t chemistry or biology-I hated them. Of course, I haven’t used any of those since before I graduated college, so the teachers were wrong there-and that was the main complaint against math classes that I remember.”

“I liked bio,” Bec said. “It was a class where I could get my hands dirty. I’ve always liked that.” She held out her hands demonstratively: they were still stained with mud, dandelion sap and pollen and green residue from the grass.

“Well, I can understand that,” Judy responded. “Anyway, I wanted to know if you’d like to come into town with me this afternoon-I’ve got a few chores to do, which isn’t all that exciting, I ‑­

know, but I could show you around Tranquility. If you want to stay, the boys will be spending the afternoon hanging out around the house-and Sam was saying something about how Mikaela might be coming over, too, if she can talk Ratchet into giving her a ride.”

Bec hesitated.

“There’s a new nursery that’s just opened I’ve been thinking of visiting, too,” Judy continued, pulling out her figurative trump card.

“Yes, please,” Bec said. “I’d like to go. I think it sounds wonderful.”

oOo

Bec was quietly nervous as she delicately pulled open Bee’s passenger-side door and perched on the seat.

She couldn’t slow her heartbeat, though, and Bumblebee was used to tracking the vital signs of the people riding in him, out of habit-it was a good way to keep track of certain moods and emotions.

And Judy was picking up on Bec’s mood, too. She thought that she didn’t realize how differently she talked when she was afraid: she was always quiet and unobtrusive, but now she was almost whispering, hardly spoke at all and looked as if she was trying to pull in on herself until she disappeared.

Judy thought that she should probably feel guilty for encouraging Ron to take the truck that morning. It left them with only Bumblebee-and Jazz, who’d been planning to drop in later, or any other Autobots that happened to drop by and were willing to play chauffer-for transport.

Bec did need to adjust to them, though, and by now she’d had a few days to calm down and think things over-and to distance her from her first exposure to the Autobots, which had been so shatteringly calamitous. Judy thought so, at least, although apparently Will thought that she was overreacting a little-not that he thought it wasn’t reasonable for her to feel panicky, just that she had taken things too far. Either way, Bumblebee was probably the best ’bot to start her on: he was friendly and approachable, and the closest in ‘age’ to the young woman. Jazz was also friendly and younger-and even more outgoing-but he could be intimidatingly Machiavellian, and had a weakness for head games-not something Bec needed, although there was a chance she would be particularly susceptible to them. She wasn’t very confident, very sure of herself.

It was odd, watching her retreat back into her shell, like a prodded snail-in this case, the prod being Autobots, wielded by Judy herself.

Well, she’d need to fix that.

“I’m not sure you’ve been introduced-Bec, this is Bumblebee. Bee, Bec.”

“Nice to meet you,” said the car cheerily. Silently, Judy thanked him for having the social grace to pretend that nothing was abnormal about the situation.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” Bec breathed, eyes darting nervously around the interior of the Autobot, trying to find something to address, some equivalent of a face-Judy could sympathize with the problem. She was also sure that Bec had only managed to say that much because the words were automatic: she didn’t need to think about them.

After a few minutes of uninterrupted silence, Judy elbowed the car door as unobtrusively as possible--making sure that Bec, who was looking out the window at the passing roadside-didn’t notice, to try to get Bumblebee to try and start a conversation.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with Sunstreaker,” he said finally. “I promise you that the rest of us are nothing like that.”

Bec’s breath hitched a little oddly in her throat. Judy understood.

“I’m sure Sunstreaker didn’t help with anything-” Judy was damn sure, in fact “-But all of you can be a little intimidating, you know, Bumblebee. And not everyone wants to jump head-first into adventure.”

“Yes,” Bec said softly. When Judy looked encouragingly at her, clearly hopeful, she added a little bit onto her original statement-or word. “I’ve always been a homebody.”

“-I don't want to see a ghost: it's the sight I fear most.I’d rather eat a piece of toast and watch the evening news-” (2) played the radio.

Bec looked blank for a few minutes, surprised, before she started giggling, and then outright laughing. She was positively shaking with hilarity.

“So what was all that about?” Judy asked as Bec finished, but she was smiling.

“The lyrics,” Bec replied, biting back another giggle. “Is-Is that a real song?”

“Yes.” Bumblebee had replied, that time, and Judy was heartened by Bec’s more-relaxed reaction: she was still far from calm, but it was better. Much better.

oOo

“So, you’ll be willing to help me get these in the ground?” Judy asked as the two of them stood in line with a wagon-this nursery’s answer to shopping carts-half-full of plants.

“Of course,” Bec said. “But-the car-”

At least she’d had the sense to be discreet, Judy thought to herself. This wasn’t a secret that needed to be shouted from the rooftops. Not yet, at least, although there was a good chance that ‑­

it was just a matter of time before video footage of one Autobot or another hit the Internet, at which point the government would need to end up doing some frantic backtracking.

“It won’t be a problem,” she said cryptically. “I’ve got drop-cloths, but even if I didn’t, I don’t think he’d object.”

“Oh,” Bec said, looking at her wide-eyed, as if she’d been surprised.

-Oh. Judy could guess. She’d press her for details in a few minutes, in the car.

The two women pulled the plants back out to the car, and Judy loaded them into Bee’s trunk while Bec returned the wagon. The two-the woman and the Autobot-were waiting for her when she returned.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said quietly as she ducked down into her seat and pulled on her seatbelt.

“So,” Judy said, without preamble. “What you were saying about plants in cars?”

Bec was silent.

“Well, dirt in the upholstery can be kind of unpleasant,” Bumblebee said, a little doubtfully. “Especially when you’re new. Earth is really… Different. Although if you put down some sort of cover and don’t leave the plants in there too long, it really shouldn’t be a problem-”

“It was when I-didn’t know,” Bec said abruptly, hands on her thighs, palm down with the fingers digging into her legs, and hunched over, curling in on herself. “I was… I didn’t know… Really. It doesn’t matter.”

And it didn’t, or at least it shouldn’t. That was thing, Judy thought. But on top of everything else Sunstreaker had done, it did.

She made a mental note to track down Jazz soon. She needed to talk to him. She should probably wait a while to talk to Sunstreaker-which didn’t necessarily mean she would. Just that it would be for the better if she did.

oOo

After Bec had expressed an interest in seeing the desert-not something she was particularly interested in, herself-Judy had gotten an idea. It had been remarkably easy to set up, too, although the guide to local plantlife had been a little hard to track down-she didn’t think much of the near-by bookstores.

All it had taken, really, other than that, was a call to Jazz.

oOo

Bec wasn’t sure how she’d ended up in the Autobot called Jazz, the two of them speeding out into the desert. She tried to concentrate on calming her pulse and keeping her breathing slow and natural. It was completely silent inside the car, with only the noises of tires on the road and the wind rushing past them to interrupt it, until Jazz spoke.

“So, an Irishman, a Scotsman and an Englishman walk into a bar.” There was a brief pause. “You’d think one of them would have seen it.”

Bec stared uncomprehendingly at the dashboard for a long minute, thrown off by the sheer incongruity, before she giggled, and then started laughing.

When she’d finally quieted-although she was still smiling, just barely-Jazz spoke again.

“Okay, so I know I’m funny, but I didn’t think you’d find the joke all that hilarious.”

“Maybe I just needed to laugh,” Bec said quietly, sounding almost shy.

“I find it usually helps,” Jazz said happily. “And you’ve had a rough couple of days-I’m sorry about that, for what it’s worth.”

“Thank you.” Bec’s voice had gone even quieter.

“T’be honest? It was nice to see you smile. The other times I’ve seen you, you’ve looked down-right miserable.”

“It’s been-hard.” Her smile was gone again, and she was almost whispering. Jazz wasn’t sure what to say to that, because it was true, what with Sunstreaker and her father and how she’d been surprised and then almost attacked by a Decepticon-and he was pretty sure that a second joke would be inappropriate. Even if the joke itself wasn’t. Before he could come up with something, Bec surprised him.

“You’re very-very different,” she said carefully, looking away at the emptiness they were passing through.

“Should I be insulted?”

Bec let out another surprised giggle. “I wouldn’t be,” she said hesitantly, not wanting to actually give offense, and still so unsure of what the boundaries were in this new game of social interaction.

“Have to say, if it’s Sunshine I’m being compared to, I’m not too unhappy that we’re coming across pretty differently. The mech’s an ass-I am not looking forward to serving as commanding officer for him or his brother, but Sideswipe at least has boundaries-I think…”

“Commanding officer?” Bec parroted back.

“Hm? Oh, yeah-I’m Optimus’ second-in-command.”

Well. That was-unnerving, Bec thought, eyes wide.

“Hey, whoa there-don’t go taking me too seriously, now!”

Bec didn’t respond verbally, but gave a quick twitch of a smile, a brief moment when her face lost the too-serious half-scared expression she usually seemed to wear.

A few long, silent minutes, Bec spoke up again. “J-Jazz?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank-Thank you for taking me out here. I know it’s kind of… weird, and probably boring for you, and you doubtless have more important things to be working on-”

“Hey, careful with the assumptions! You know what people say about them. I got no problems with helping you get around-and I haven’t tried anything like this little trip yet, so I don’t know if it’ll be boring or not. And more important things to do-nah, just paperwork. People, even if they’re organic, are always more important than glorified secretary duty-which is what being second in command means, y’know.”

Bec laughed a little again, but the noise was weak and nervous.

“I’m here to help-you got any questions? Any at all? I’ll answer ’em for you, best as I can. Helping you get places whenever I’m free-easy. Ask me, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Bec said, ducking her head. “I will.”

Somehow, Jazz doubted that. “Seriously-take me up on this! I warn you, I am damn hard to insult. When I say ‘ask me anything,’ I mean it.”

“Thank you,” she repeated, even more quietly.

“’Course, if you’re asking questions, I want a chance to ask questions back-an answer for an answer, that sort of thing. That okay?”

“Yes,” said Bec, looking up and smiling in the vague direction of the dashboard-which part was the ‘face,’ the bit you talked to, when they were like this?

“Great-thanks. Can I go first?” Bec nodded a hesitant affirmative, not sure how she’d suddenly been roped into something that seemed oddly reminiscent of games of truth-or-dare in the seventh grade. “Why-No, what makes you so interested in plants?”

Bec shrugged helplessly. “I-I guess I just don’t know. But I have, since I grew sunflowers in the grade school-it felt like a miracle, you know, those gorgeous flowers towering above me when I knew they’d just been tiny little seeds a while ago. I loved those plants-sunflower yellow was my favorite color for years.” She laughed humorlessly, the sound bitter. “It’s how I ended up with-him.” She fell silent but Jazz didn’t speak, so she kept talking, trying to explain herself. “I-I suppose it still feels a little miraculous to me-do you know anything about desert wildflowers? They look as if they’re some kind of mistake, some of them look so out-of-place in the midst of all this dry dirt and sand and rock, delicate and exuberant and colorful flowers mixed up in all that brown. Everything out here lives under such harsh conditions-and that’s just one example. It’s all just interesting, too. Farming changed the course of human history.”

“I could see that,” Jazz said after she’d finished, once it was clear she wasn’t going to continue. “It’s a world’s difference from Cybertron-literally as well as figuratively, I suppose.”

“What was… -Cybertron like?”

“Well, in its prime it was the most beautiful planet I’ve seen-and I’ve seen a lot…”

oOo

Judy looked up from her notes as a car pulled into the driveway: she smiled as she recognized Jazz. Before she could get up to greet the mech and the girl-young woman-with him, the driver’s-side door swung open, Bec stepping out. She paused to say something-that was new, Judy thought, slightly smug but mostly relieved-and smiled slightly before heading towards the patio, where Judy was still sitting. The car door slammed shut behind her and Jazz’s holoform flickered into being, as eerily blank-faced as they all were, even with the eyes hidden behind sunglasses-none of the Autobots could manage a good human face, and she doubted the Decepticons could, either.

Judy just had time to wave good-bye before he was gone.

Looking at the still-clearly-happy Bec-who was no longer smiling but still looked as if she might at any minute-she decided she owed Jazz considerably more than a thank-you. Maybe she could talk Ratchet into putting him back on active duty-although she’d been planning to do that anyways.

“How was the desert plant life?” Judy asked as Bec started up the steps.

“Really pretty-there’s going to be some kind of cactus blooming tonight. There were lizards, too. It’s been too long since the last rain for many flowers, though.” She sounded distracted.

“And how was Jazz?” asked Judy calmly, with a slight smile. She hoped it wasn’t too much of a cat-in-the-cream grin, although Bec didn’t seem to notice it at all. For someone who could pick out an interesting leaf variation from twenty paces, she could be remarkably unobservant.

“Thank you for… Setting me up like that,” said Bec suddenly, looking up from the patch of grass she’d been looking at to face the older woman, gaze square. Judy’s face went blank with wide-eyed surprise for a quick second before her smile returned-although this time there was a softer edge to it. Maybe she’d been wrong about Bec’s apparent obliviousness when it came to other people.

Something Bec saw in Judy’s face relaxed her a little, and she turned away again, sitting down in one of the lawn chairs Sam or one of the other boys-probably not Mikaela-had left out. She wasn’t sure whether or not Bec was waiting for her to speak up again, to respond, but she was going to reply either way.

“I’m glad it worked out,” Judy said at last, thoughtfully and gently. “I thought it would. Jazz is good at… Not calming people down, but putting them at ease. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Bec said. “I… Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that.”

Judy laughed. “That’s the Autobots in a nutshell. And Jazz too-especially Jazz.”

“I know. I still don’t know what I would have expected one of them to be like, but… Nothing like that. -He really liked the lizards, you should have heard him when one of them crawled onto his foot to bask.”

“The lizards?” Judy asked, amused.

“I think he thought the plants were kind of boring, although he was polite about it, but there were all these lizards zipping around-I think the vibrations from his footsteps disturbed them, something like that.” Judy laughed again, and Bec smiled.

“Do you want to meet the others-the other Autobots? I mean really meet them, get to know them a little better…” It was a risky question to ask the woman at this stage, Judy thought, but she hadn’t seen the girl look this happy before, let alone without the help of something that could photosynthesize. There was something worrisome about that, and about how shy she was, at her age-even the teenagers put her on edge. So did Judy herself, (although admittedly less so,) for that matter.

“No,” said Bec abruptly, standing, the chair scraping across the cement patio as she stood and started pacing, staring almost blankly at the vine growing on a small trellis to one side. “I don’t.” Then, voice gentler, “But you know? I think I will anyway.”

Before Judy could respond, Bec spoke again. “This is mislabeled-it’s not a hybrid clematis, it’s a Clematis armandii, it’s going to get too big for this trellis.”

“Really?”

oOo

“Hello, Mrs. Witwicky,” a voice behind her said as Judy bustled her way across the wide expanse of floor, headed determinedly for the human-sized entrance to the Autobot base, located on the far wall.

“Oh! Optimus-it’s good to see you again. How are things going?”

“We’re at a loss when it comes to the source of the Decepticon attacks, and we can’t seem to find a pattern, but there haven’t been many more incidents, and they don’t seem to be attacking uninvolved humans. How is Bec doing?”

“Thank heaven for minor mercies, that’s what I say. As for Bec-much better, actually. She’s no social butterfly-I’d be worried if she was acting like one, or trying to-but she’s opened up a little. I’m pretty sure I have Jazz to thank for that-he’s the one who opened her up. I don’t think Bumblebee really knew how to get around that.”

“So that’s where he went when he snuck off the base. Ratchet was furious.”

“I think he would have snuck away anyways, even if I hadn’t asked him to talk to Bec,” Judy replied, suddenly privately amused. “He certainly didn’t mention he’d been confined to base again-just that he was still on medical leave.”

“He strained that seam again,” Ratchet said sourly, entering the room. “You know, where I had to weld two halves of him back together. I keep on telling him that a wound like that isn’t going to fix itself as quickly or painlessly as a superficial slash will, and it’ll take even longer than normal-not that there’s anything normal about this situation-because of the strain being dead put on his body and spark-”

Judy laughed. “Has Jazz ever listened to you while he’s capable of moving under his own power? From the sounds of things, he hasn’t… At least not often.”

“He’s a worse patient than Ironhide.”

“At least he’s helping Bec adjust,” Optimus said, voice quieter but asking for-not demanding-attention. “Sunstreaker’s been disciplined, but that doesn’t undo the damage he’s done.”

Judy scowled. “It’s good to hear that he’s been talked to-I have to say, I keep on having to repress some choice words of my own, when it comes to him. That said, Bec’s surprisingly resilient-I think she’ll manage.”

“Good to hear. -And as for Sunstreaker, he could probably stand to hear certain things another time.” His voice was mild as milk.

“Although, so far, he’s been talked to by you, Optimus, and Jazz and Captain Lennox; he was given a lecture on human psychology and physiology by me; threatened by Ironhide and probably Bumblebee; and informed of how the United States government looks at the death, ‑­

accidental or otherwise, of humans, or even their torment, by the Keller and a few aides. I think even his brother’s upset with him.”

Judy smiled, a mean expression-there was very little to do with happiness to it. “Good,” she said, somewhat coldly. “Maybe he’ll finally get it.”

oOo

“I just don’t get it,” snarled Sunstreaker, pacing across the room he shared with his twin. Sideswipe was sitting, watching him.

“It’s not hard, glitch-head. This planet currently has a human population six times that of Cybertron in its golden age. And it’s a smaller planet. Living here means getting along with organics. When you’re kidnapping and terrorizing them, that’s hard to do. And then they like the humans, Sunstreaker. The crazy one with the guns? He treats a set of humans like they’re a group-bond-and I’m not sure the squishies realize that, but he does. And I’m not getting within cannon range of those adolescents Bumblebee’s attached himself to, and I’m not even the one he threatened-that would be you. Because he’s afraid you’re going to slag around with them like you did that girl-Bed?-you-”

“Bec,” growled Sunstreaker.

“Fine, Bec. The point is, bro, what you did is the stupidest thing either of us have ever done, and that includes that one time. You know which one I’m talking about.”

Sunstreaker aimed a solid kick at the door, which rocked back in its frame. “Just-let it go.”

“I want to know what you were thinking! They were thiiis close to throwing you in the brig! -And you could have killed the human. Something easily avoidable. You know what gets said about you, Sunshine-you want to convince you everyone you actually are a cold-blooded uncontrollable psychopath?”

“You know I’m not.” His eyes were dangerously bright, and he was positively shaking with rage.

Sideswipe softened a little. “Yeah, I know. You’ve convinced at least one human otherwise, and gone a long way towards convincing everyone else on the base, at the very least. And they’d probably have been willing to completely ignore your-our-old record, just dismissed everything on it-a new start. But when even I’m wondering if you’ve lost it… What was going through your mind? Were you seriously enjoying her fear like that?”

“…Yes.” Sunstreaker couldn’t miss his brother’s disgust at his answer.

Sideswipe didn’t respond.

“No. Slag, I don’t know- She kept on putting slimy organic things in me. And she didn’t wash me-it was disgusting-”

“She thought she was going to die. Even when she wasn’t choking to death.”

“-I didn’t know! I just thought… I don’t know, but I didn’t know, alright? And it wasn’t even like I did all that much! I stopped threatening her! I started asking her to do things!”

“Really.”

“Don’t give me that look, you fragger-I did. After she… Un-ingested food when I told her to eat. That’s all I did then, too! I didn’t stuff it down her face, she could have said ‘no’…”

“Sunstreaker. Sunny. Sunshine. You are violent, unpleasant and built to kill-you scare your teammates. Sometimes you scare me. Bed’s a timid organic with a processor prone to malfunctions who didn’t even know that anything like you-us-existed before you sprung it on her. Bumblebee freaked out the humans when they first met him, and he’s little, friendly and had just saved their lives instead of threatening to step on them or something. And those humans are more out-going, as far as I can tell. What did you expect, someone who treats you like I do? You’ve had commanding officers too afraid to say ‘no’ to you.”

“But-”

“What, it’s okay because she didn’t maintain your polish?”

“Bec-not Bed, glitcher-should have taken better care of me-”

“She didn’t know you were alive! She had no real reason to!”

The broke off the argument to stare at each other, glowering. The metal of the table Sunstreaker was gripping creaked warningly.

Sunstreaker finally spoke. “Fine. I… Shouldn’t have. I-Slag it, I didn’t mean to freak her out that badly.”

His brother relaxed. “That wasn’t too hard to admit, was it?”

“I’m not saying it’s all my fault. I’m just saying I… Might have done a few things a little better.”

“Hmm. It’s a pity she’d probably have a miniature breakdown if you went anywhere near her, and then you’d be shot at by five mechs and a handful of humans bent on revenge. If that wasn’t the case, you could apologize.”

Sunstreaker stared at him with a what-are-you-thinking? expression stamped on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’ve seen you apologize before: I know you’re capable of it-”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Wiseaft.”

“Oh, look who’s talking!”

oOo

Judy was halfway across the common room when she realized she was being watched. She looked over, staring Sunstreaker, a few Autobot-sized chairs away, straight in the face.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” she said, clearly and calmly, and continued on her way.

After all, she was running late for her meeting with Will-Captain Lennox-and the base was big enough and to a large enough scale that it was hard for humans to manage in.

Sunstreaker didn’t respond.

oOo

Trent was still surprisingly polite and well-behaved around Judy, or any of the Autobots, but when Sam’s mom wasn’t around or there wasn’t a clearly visible Autobot in sight, he was starting to revert back to his normal school behaviors.

Sam was really, really sick of it already. Mikaela was furious. Miles was as close to committing homicide as he’d ever been.

“You throw like a girl, Gillon,” Trent sneered.

You are above him. You are above the taunts, the idiocy, the misogyny- Miles reminded himself.

“At least I don’t scream like one.” There went that plan. And bringing in the attack by Barricade was a low blow, he had to admit.

“Either of you keep the sexism up-or hell, any of your attitude in general, especially you, Trent-and I get Bumblebee to turn you into jam,” Mikaela snarled through gritted teeth.

“I’d take her seriously,” Sam added as Bee transformed to poke Miles in the side demonstratively. Trent gulped and backed down. Miles gave it up and laughed.

The five of them had taken a day off to get away: Ratchet had provided the teens who hadn’t fit into Bumblebee with a lift up into the mountain they were on-he was free while Maggie and Glen were at the Autobot base-and Ironhide had been reluctantly convinced, or at least argued into, picking them up later. It had been a great opportunity to get out of the Witwicky house, which seemed to be shrinking, rapidly. Unfortunately, the attempt at a friendly game of Frisbee had ended… Badly. Even if you didn’t count Miles colliding with Mikaela and accidentally ‑­

groping her when he was trying to get off her. Really, though, the only person who’d been truly embarrassed had been Miles, and the only other person who’d really cared had been Trent. He’d taken full advantage of the lovely opportunity to insult both Miles and Mikaela.

“So what now?” Mikaela asked, flopping down.

“We could eat,” Sam said, hopefully.

Miles agreed. “I’m up for that.”

“Sure,” Trent said, sullenly.

There was an awkward silence.

“Could you please lose the attitude?” Miles said finally. “Yeah, I get it, you could pound me into the ground in a fight or any sport ever invented, but I’m inclined to think that that doesn’t necessarily make me a worthless person. And you are being down-right unpleasant, young man, as my mother used to tell me. Er, still tells me, unless last month counts as ‘used to.’”

“I’d appreciate it, too,” Sam said mildly. “I know you’re probably not all that happy-I know I think things could be better. I want my room back, for one-but none of us are, and we’re all dealing. And keep in mind that we’re trying to keep you safe. I don’t want to see you dead, even when you’re being an utter ass.”

“Yeah,” Mikaela said, with considerably more attitude. “And you know what? Insulting my boyfriend or Miles isn’t going to make me go running back to you. It’s over, Trent, I’m not interested. I wouldn’t be interested even if you were someone I’d consider dating if I didn’t have the perfect boyfriend already-which I do-and you’re not.”

“Ouch,” said Miles, with a wince. “That was mean, Mikaela.”

“Fine. Sorry, Trent.”

“…Fine.”

“And I’m pretty sure that ‘fine’ isn’t an acceptable response to ‘I’m sorry.’”

“Shut it, Gillon.”

“My name is Miles. And Trent-there are four people at our school who know about the Autobots. We are the other three. Do you really want to push us away? I know I like having someone to talk to when it comes to this.”

“I want to pretend this never happened,” Trent muttered. “Just go back to school and the team-Not any of you freaks and the, the robots…”

“Trent,” Miles said seriously, looking over at the other boy, waiting until Trent returned the gaze. “This is-our chance to really do something. You seriously want to just let it go? This is history.”

“…No,” Trent said finally. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Not a problem,” said Miles breezily, flopping down again. “Hey, Sam, your mom packed us a picnic, right?”

oOo

Bec wondered where her life had changed. She wondered what would change: where would learning how to get the best tomatoes from the least light fit into the world of giant robots and explosion-filled fights she’d entered?

For that matter, now that she was here, what was she going to do?

Or maybe nothing would change. Everything was different, true, but maybe this would wrap itself up and go home, and everything would return to normal, except for her. And that would fade eventually, or scab over, at least, or maybe just start feeling unreal, like it had never happened.

But who knew? Maybe things really would be different. Right now she couldn’t imagine life beyond the next day. Who was to say?

oOo

(1) A dibber is basically a small pointy stick, usually metal in today’s world. Fancy versions come with a additions like a handle or a slightly forked end. You use it for weeding. (At least, ‘dibber’ is the word my research came up with. I would probably refer to it as a pointy tool for weeding, or ‘hey, hand me that thing next to trowel, would you?’)

(2) From Life, by Des’ree. Yes, those seriously are real lyrics.

--End chapter 4--