(c) Copyright 1998 Melissa McCook Melody Silver/Golden Eighth Note Ltd.
TRANSFORMERS(tm) AND ALL RELATED CHARACTERS ARE PROPERTY OF HASBRO, INC. USED WITHOUT PERMISSION. THIS STORY IS NOT FOR SALE OR PUBLICATION AND IN NO WAY MEANT TO INFRINGE ON ANY COPYRIGHTS OR CONSTITUTE AN ACT OF PLAGARISM.
Author's Note: Several songs are sampled in this story, taking a moment to give credit where it's due. If I'm in error, please e-mail me at Cobalt2839@aol.com with corrections.
"You Can't Hurry Love" recorded by Diana Ross and the Supremes, Motown Inc.
"The Rose" recorded by Bette Midler, THE ROSE soundtrack
"My Heart Will Go On" recorded by Celine Dion, TITANIC soundtrack
"Posession" recorded by Sarah MacLachlan, on the album Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
That love is all there is, is all we know of love.
--Emily Dickinson
Static squalled and whined as Radiatrix fiddled with the sensitive tuner on her internal subspace radio. She had volunteered for the most boring, remote patrol on the shift, having her own reasons for doing so, but solitude didn't have to lapse into insanity. There were no 'Cons for at least two hundred parsecs in every direction, and she knew she would hear or see them coming long before they could pose a threat, so Trixi kept up her search for at least ONE good radio station in the galaxy.
Since all of Cybertron's frequencies were taken up for military use, there wasn't one single radio station in the entire band that could be used for music, so Trixi turned her receivers in the direction of Earth. Blaster, the Autobot communications officer, loved Earth music, and Trixi had heard some of it from time to time when she passed his quarters on her way back to the femme's dorm. _If he likes some of it, it can't be all bad,_ she thought, watching the virtual dial on her heads-up display scan the frequencies.
"No, you can't hurry love, no you just have to wait, she said love don't come easy, it's a game of give and take-"
Scowling, Trixi nudged the dial again. Oldies just weren't her style.
"Some say love, it is a river...that drowns the tender reed...I say love, it is a razor...that leaves...your soul to bleed--"
_UGH!_ she thought, making a face. _Someone needs to put a plasma blast in that chick's head and end her misery._
"Love was when I loved you, one true time I hold to, in my life we'll always go on...near, far, wherever you are, I believe that the heart does go on--"
Primus, what was it with these humans? Love, love love; all they could talk about was love! It was almost enough to make Trixi heave the glass of energon she'd gulped down before leaving on patrol. There just HAD to be something decent to listen to, even in this tiny little corner of the universe.
"--kiss you so hard, I'll take your breath away...and after I'd wipe away the tears...just close your eyes, dear..."
Suddenly, an image sprang unbidden to Trixi's mind, and she turned her head as if to avoid a harsh blow. The face that loomed before her offline optics was strong, brilliant blue optics shining as if they could scan her to the core, and the more she tried to wipe it away, the more it refused to be neutralized by her processor's override. Trixi hadn't flinched because the image was unpleaant or threatening, but just the opposite. It was also the frequency with which that particular image came to mind that alarmed her. _If the face I see in my recharge dreams was that of anyone else, things would not be so complicated,_ she thought sourly to herself as the haunting, minor notes of the human female's voice started icy shivers along her central neural pathway. That was it--it wasn't just anyone else. It was Optimus Prime.
_This is dangerous. We are at war, and no one knows what the future will hold. How I feel is dangerous for both Prime and myself. It's inexcusable._ Trixi's own thoughts were harsher than anything else, her strict discipline reining in her fondness for the Autobot leader even as she felt her body temperature rise. _I've got to get out of here, just for a little while--_
"Radiatrix to Iacon Command. This sector is clear. I'm returning to base." She radioed back to the control room in Iacon's main stronghold, and transformed without waiting for a reply.
"Iacon Command here," came Springer's voice, the Air Defense officer serving the evening shift he always volunteered for when he was on Cybertron. "Thanks for the info, Trixi, we'll see you when you get back. Watch your tail on your way home, girlie; don't bring anything home with you."
Trixi smiled to herself, her lightcycle mode leaving swaths of pink light behind her that faded into the starry blackness of the night. "Don't worry, Lieutenant. I'll keep my optics open. On my way." _On my way off this planet, that is._
It was late, and the Beta Quad was mostly empty, except for Kup, who was scanning the latest USA TODAY on one of the tableside computer stations, and Arcee, who was slowly sipping a glass of energon and zoning out on the television monitor in the wall opposite her. Her duty would resume in a few microns, but she was savoring the moments of her break and the sweetness of the hi-test shimmering in the glass before her. Springer had taken the 1200-to-2000 hour shift, and as usual, Arcee signed up for the shift following it, hoping they could grab some 'quality time' before they headed back to Autobot city the next morning. The shuttle would leave just after her shift ended, and Arcee knew she would make use of the six-cycle trip to recharge, but for the moment, she allowed herself the luxury of being tired. Being on Cybertron for three Earth months after spending most of the year on Earth was a bit of a switch, but the towers and spires of Iacon were always a welcome sight, bringing back memories of the earliest days of her relationship with Springer.
These memories were interrupted when Radiatrix, one of the younger femmes, entered the Quad and walked over to Arcee with quick, purposeful strides. Her face wore an intense expression, and Arcee drained her glass in preparation for whatever Trixi had to say. "Sir, can I speak to you a moment?" To avoid confusion, the Autobots had adopted the universal custom of addressing all officers, whether male or female, as 'sir,' and both Trixi and Arcee glanced Kup's direction as the old Autobot half-rose to his feet. He looked at the two femmes and gave an embarrased cough, then returned to his newsfile, wondering why Optimus and Rodimus had agreed on such a notion. He wasn't sure he would ever get used to it.
"Of course, Sergeant. I was just going back to work, do you mind if we talk on the way?"
"No, sir. Not at all." Trixi pressed her titanium lips together in nervousness, wondering what she was getting herself into, but she took a deep breath and spoke anyway. "Sir, can I ask a favor? May I switch places with you on the schedule for sympathetic training?"
Arcee's delicate brow furrowed, and she turned her head to look at Trixi as they stopped at the turbo-lift. "Can I answer your question with another question, and ask why?" She keyed in the code for the scanner room, crossing her arms as Trixi shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"No reason, really. I just wanted to get it over with," she said, hoping to Primus that the Tactical Defense officer didn't see through her plan. Since Arcee, Ultra Magnus, Springer, and Rodimus had been transformed into humans by a freak accident, Perceptor had refined the process and suggested to Optimus that the Autobots could use the experience to their advantage. Being human had opened the quartet's eyes to how the war between the Autobots and Decepticons looked to Earth's native populace, and now "sympathetic training," as Rodimus had coined it, was a mandatory part of every Autobot's service. At least once every Earth year, one Autobot from every sector of service from High Command on down to Ground Assault Platoon had to undergo the transformation. Arcee's number had come up again, and to her disappointment, Springer had not been slated to go within the same timeframe, so part of her thought Trixi's offer tempting. The other, more military-minded part of her, however, was curious as to Trixi's reasoning beind it.
"Besides--if you'll pardon my saying so, sir--I know you were hoping that your duty would coincide with Lieutenant Springer's ." Arcee didn't say anything, and Trixi felt as if she were sinking into the floor from embarassment and dread. _That's it, that's it, I knew it. Thirty Sol-cycles of guard duty for insolence, I knew it, I--_
Trixi's morose thoughts were stilled when Arcee began to chuckle, nodding in agreement with what Trixi had said. "Guilty as charged; I suppose you're right. I'll let Optimus know immediately."
"No!" Trixi put a hand on her superior officer's arm without thinking, stopping Arcee short when she would have stepped into the turbo-lift. "I mean, I'll let him know personally. You don't have to take time out of your shift and do something that's my responsibility anyway." She removed her hand from Arcee's arm, but Trixi mistook Arcee's slightly open-mouthed expression for annoyance at the physical contact, rather than surprise at how forceful her outburst had been when Arcee mentioned Optimus' name.
_I thought that was just gossip, but I guess Spring was right--he DID see Prime in Autobot City with a femme. Could it be that Prime and Trixi--?_ "As you wish, then, Sergeant," the pink-plated femme murmured, smiling gently. "Have a safe trip. Being human is an experience that defies explanation; be prepared for some of the wildest things you've ever been through in your life."
A small smile of triumph found its way onto Trixi's face as she saluted Arcee, the door of the lift closing between them. "Thank you, sir. I will."
Trixi, however, did not go to Prime's office after she turned from the turbo-lift, nor did she go in the next few cycles after her meeting with Arcee. When it was nearly 0230, though, Trixi found herself on the second floor of the central stronghold, and her processor was thrumming with indecision. If she went, she would risk detection and time in the brig, when it was found out that she'd gone without permission. _But Arcee gave me permission,_ she countered stubbornly, though her conscience continued to send warning bells clanging in her head. If she did go, though, and managed to clear all this silliness with Optimus out of her system, then so much the better, and no one would be the wiser, if she timed it just right Still, here she stood at Prime's office door, and the light she saw shining from under the door let her know that Prime was pulling an all-nighter too. She raised a hand to knock, but instead put her palm flat on the heavy steel door, resting her forehead on the cool, slick surface in an attempt to cool her burning thoughts. To go in and say goodbye would mean risking detection again, but somehow, Trixi felt like seeing him one last time to say just that. _Oh, slag it, I just want to see him again, never mind saying anything. This is why I need to get off this planet for a while._ She sighed heavily, her choice made.
"See ya in the funny papers," she whispered, fingertips caressing the door as she walked away.
"Are you sure, Sergeant?" Perceptor consulted the training schedule on his workstation once more, highlighting Arcee's name on the list, then skipping a few forward and a few back just to make sure. "Hmm. Silverbolt, Blaster....Sunstreaker, Jazz...I'm afraid you're not on the list. Not until...oh, a few lunar cycles from now." He turned open, unassuming optics on Trixi, and she wondered how gullible an Autobot could be. She had no wish to get Perceptor in trouble, but she knew he would never do anything that hadn't been sanctioned by either of the Primes first--especially Optimus. Loyalties ran deep in this organization, and while Perceptor respected and followed Rodimus' leadership, Optimus always had the final word, in his opinion. And Perceptor was notorious for his opinions, often given at just the wrong times.
"I just volunteered to go in Lieutenant Arcee's place. Prime probably hasn't had time to input the change; he's been up pretty late, and it might have just slipped his mind." Trixi watched as Perceptor stared at the screen, the scientist obviously weighing what she had told him. She guessed with a flash of dread that he was not satisfied with her explanation, and she stepped back as the taller robot got up from his workstation and walked around the corner of the countertop. "Don't you believe me?"
Perceptor's eyes narrowed. "I didn't say I didn't, Sergeant, but I think I'll check with Prime just the same. I'm sure he wouldn't want a member of his team putting themselves in danger, and this will be your first experience with sympathetic training, you know." He reached out to push the exit sensor on the door. "I'm sure there's some briefing Optimus will want to give you before you go. Just wait here, I won't be long. It's probably just an oversight, as you say." Perceptor smiled fondly, shaking his head. "He always pushes himself too hard."
When he was gone, Trixi hurried over to the workstation, punching in a few commands. "Sorry, Perceptor, I'm on a timetable," she muttered to herself as power began to crackle along the miles of cable twisting into a huge, glass cylinder. A smaller glass cylinder stood next to it, and a petrie dish containing one human cell lay in the bottom of the small cylinder, the DNA in the cell's nucleus waiting to react with the cloning solution flooding the chamber at Trixi's command. Finally, all was ready, and Trixi bravely raised her chin as she stepped up to the Autobot-sized chamber.
Suddenly, the door shuddered under a tremendous pounding. "Radiatrix!!" Perceptor had heard the tremendous powering-up whine of the transformation cylinders, and he had immediately assumed the worst and run back to his lab on the double. "Radiatrix!! What are you doing?!"
Trixi forced herself to turn away from Perceptor's horrified expression and walk toward the chamber, then she stepped inside and closed the cylinder. Icy clouds of nitrogen, meant to put her Transformer body into stasis until she returned to it, swirled around her legs and frosted her optics over. _Goodbye, Optimus._ After a few moments, Trixi couldn't tell whether Perceptor had stopped pounding on the door or she just couldn't hear him anymore. _Arcee was right. This is the strangest--uhnh!!_
Her thoughts ended in a gurgle of agony as a violent spasm rocked her, pain hurling her into a smothering blackness. The walls caved in on her, iron bands constricting, putting a body that seemed fragile and weightless in a vicelike grip. _Help me, Primus help me! What have I done? Optimus--!_ A scream welled up from her throat, and she realized vaguely that the sound had the piercing quality of a human female's cry of anguish and pain. Then there was only silence as she slipped into unconsciousness.
"What?" Prime looked at Perceptor, disbelief in his optics at what his science officer had just told him. "Can you run that by me one more time, Perceptor, just to make sure I understand you correctly?" He understood, all right, but Prime hoped the words would change this time--which, to his dismay, they did not.
Perceptor sighed, looking at his intertwined fingers as he stood before Prime's desk. "Radiatrix came to me earlier this morning and told me she'd volunteered to undergo sympathetic training, and that she'd switched places with Arcee. She said she'd told you, and that you just hadn't changed the schedule yet. Now she's made herself into a human, and so far, I haven't been able to locate her."
"Can you trace her with the transmitter implant we give everyone who goes for sympathetic training?" Looking surprised--Perceptor had forgotten about the transmitter in his haste to alert Prime to the situation--the scientist nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, that won't take a moment. May I?" Prime nodded and rose from his seat, letting Perceptor slip into the chair and use Prime's workstation to access the Autobot net. A grid popped up in 3-D, and a small red blip appeared in the middle of a virtual valley, and they exchanged glances.
Optimus leaned over to take a closer look. "That's her, it's got to be her. She can't have gone far. I'll have to go get her before the 'Cons notice."
Aghast, Perceptor tried not to show his misgivings. "But, Optimus--the risks of inducing another transformation sequence in such a short span of time---"
"Perceptor, don't argue with me. Trixi is in danger--our whole mission is in danger, if Galvatron sees her and has one of his agents take her out, or worse, captures her and manages to extract privileged information. Make the chamber ready." _Primus, Trixi, what the hell do you think you're doing?_ he growled to himself as he followed Perceptor out the door. _If anything happens to you--_ Prime shook his head, not wanting to think about anything happening to the young femme before he could get to her. He didn't think Trixi would talk; he knew she would rather die first than betray her comrades, but the words were a good cover for his real reason to hurry.
The two Autobots reached Perceptor's lab in just a few microns, and immediately Perceptor seated himself at his workstation to begin resetting the transformation cylinder. Prime waited impatiently with arms crossed over his chestplate, looking over the scientist's shoulder as Perceptor's fingers flew over the keys. "Well?" Optimus asked, with just a tinge more of irritation in his bass voice than he meant to show.
Perceptor, true to his name, picked up on this irritation, as well as the informal pronunciation of Radiatrix's name, and he drew his own conclusions about the relationship she and Optimus shared. He, like Arcee, kept silent about those thoughts, and took a deep breath instead. "The reset cycle will take just a few microns. Are you sure you still want to do this?"
The scientist's optics were darkened with concern, and Optimus sighed. Perceptor had been someone they could all depend on through the years, and when Wheeljack was killed in the battle for Autobot City, Perceptor had taken over all the research and development for the Autobot army. When he voiced his misgivings about something, Prime knew they were genuine, but this time, there was just too much at stake to be as careful as Perceptor would like him to be. "Yes, I'm sure," he said quietly. "I understand your reasons for caution, and believe me, if there were any other way, I'd take it." Prime looked over at the glass cylinders, which were crackling with blue snakes of energy, then back at Perceptor. "Ready?"
Perceptor nodded. "Yes. If you're going to go through with it, now is the time." On an impulse, he offered an open palm to his commanding officer, mimicing a gesture of comradeship he had seen the humans make time and again, and somehow, it just seemed to fit at this moment. "Good luck, Optimus."
Prime smiled behind his faceplate, clasping Perceptor's hand with his own. "Thank you, my friend." Then he turned and stepped inside the chamber as the scientist turned back to the console to engage the sequence. Vaguely, he wondered what would happen if the chamber had indeed been overtaxed, but he pushed the thought out of his processor as he felt the cold bite of the nitrogen surround him, numbing him past all feeling. He tried to focus on Trixi for as long as he could, riding the tidal wave of pain that clenched him in its grip as his spark was ripped from his metal housing and forced into the nucleus of the living cell, and then followed her into the black silence.
The Oregon sky was dotted with fleecy, grey-white clouds, and Tricia Sykes braked her fuscia Katana motorcycle to a stop at a rain-slicked interesection. The asphalt was dotted with puddles from the morning rain, but thankfully it had stopped long enough for her to get out and get the few groceries she needed from the market downtown--although downtown, in this small village, was a row of shops held down by a gas station at either end. The hills just beyond the edge of town shimmered an emerald green, reflecting the color of her own eyes through the plexiglass of her helmet visor, and far away to the west, she could barely see the scant sunlight flickering off the tall towers of Autobot City in the distance. No one around here seemed to pay much attention to the presence of the huge, hulking robots, although there were some who wished they had never come in the first place.
Tricia revved her engine as she waited for the light to change and sighed, her breath fogging up the visor for just a moment. She, like everyone in this town, knew the story--the Autobots had crashed here through no fault of their own (in fact, Tricia rather liked taking her motorcycle on the mountain road near Mt. St. Hilary, where the huge propulsion unit of the alien ship was embedded into the volcanic rock), but she felt reassured by the sight of Metroplex glimmering like a jewel. Of course, she tried to live mostly in the here and now, since whenever she tried to think about her past, her head began to ache. She suspected she probably was an Autobot sympathizer, as evidenced by the small insignia tattooed on her right shoulder, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember where or when she'd had it done. Tricia shook her head, the familiar ache beginning to come back as it always did, but she managed to stop it before it grew into the usual migraine.
Another vehicle pulled up at the light next to her, and she glanced at it out of the corner of her eye as it came to a full stop. It was a heavy-duty pickup truck, like the ones a lot of the residents of this mountain town drove to cut through the mud, but she found herself staring at it for some unfathomable reason. Probably because the truck was painted a deep orange-red, with grey and blue graphics trailing down the side, and sparkling custom rims on the all-terrain tires--or, more likely, the way that the driver of the truck was looking back at her. It was a man, about thirty-five, with short curling hair that was black as night, a neatly trimmed dark mustache gracing the upper lip of an impossibly strong mouth. It was his eyes, however, that startled Tricia; piercing, bright blue eyes that seemed to look right through her. She had never seen eyes that blue on anyone, and something began to tickle at the back of her mind, wanting her to remember something--
_Agh!_ The pain in her head was worse now, and she put her hands to the sides of her head, her hands uselessly trying to soothe the ache through the hard plastic of the helmet. The man hadn't looked away, his stare more intense as the seconds went on, and Tricia knew that he knew her. _I don't know you!_ she screamed silently in her mind _Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?_ The light changed, and through the pain clanging in her head, Tricia gunned the Katana's engine and shot across the intersection, trying to get as far away from the blue-eyed driver as she could.
"Trixi!" The driver of the pickup shouted, slamming the truck into gear and giving chase.
Tricia skidded her motorcycle to a stop in her assigned stall at the apartment complex, which had been converted from an old roadside motel. The horrible pain in her head had managed to subside on the way, although the orange pickup had been following her from a mile or more behind her. She hoped he wouldn't bother her again, but those hopes were dashed as the pickup came splashing into the parking lot, pulling to a smooth stop beside her Katana as she calmly pulled off her helmet and got the bag of groceries out of the cargo pack. The small can of pepper spray attatched to her keychain was a reassuring pressure in her palm, but she resolved herself to be as civil as possible to the stranger--until he crossed her, and then he'd get a faceful of stinging hellfire. He got out of the truck and shut the door, walking towards her with calm, measured steps, and she fixed him with an emerald stare.
"What is it you want?" she asked, mincing no words with the stranger. She put her finger on the button of her pepperspray canister, but he had seen the tiny movement and stopped a few feet away from her.
"I mean you no harm," the stranger said, holding out large, strong hands to either side. "My name is Austin--Austin Pryme. I--" his blue eyes flicked out to where Metroplex shimmered under the wan sunlight, then back to Tricia. "Please. I have to talk to you. This is of the utmost importance."
Tricia looked at him for a moment, scanning him from his orange and black buffalo-check shirt, down to his deep grey Levi's, and to the navy-dyed leather of the workboots she saw peeking out from under the hem of the jeans. He was lean for his height, but his shoulders were broad, and coupled with the bass of his voice and the impossible blue of his eyes, Austin, as he called himself, might have been somewhat attractive. Right now, however, he was an unwelcome presence, and her eyes narrowed. "Is that why you followed me?"
"Yes. Your life is in great danger, please listen to me." Austin looked around at the windows of the other apartments, and noticed curious faces peeking out from behind the insulating drapes of some of the residences. "Can we speak in private?" Maybe it had been his reference to her life being in danger, but something told Tricia to hear him out. "Sure. But let's get one thing sraight--the first move you make that I don't like, you're out for the count. Got it?"
"Understood." Austin followed Tricia into her apartment, still staying a safe distance from her so she wouldn't feel threatened. She closed the door and tossed her keys down on the table, flipping on the small lamp and illuminating the tiny studio apartment, then went to the small kitchenette and began putting away her shopping. "Nice place," he commented.
Tricia shrugged. "It's home. It makes me feel safe, knowing I can see every corner of my own house from one spot." She gestured to a worn overstuffed chair in the corner by the window, and Austin sat there instead of the woodframe daybed butted up against the wall that doubled as a couch. "So, what is it you have to tell me?"
"Like I said, your life is in danger." Austin looked around the small room, noticing the comfortable second-hand store decorating style, every piece functional as well as homey. However, the absence of any photographs or mementos of any personal sort wasn't lost on him, and it only cemented his thoughts that this girl was indeed who he sought. "Are you from around here?"
"First you tell me I'm gonna get killed, then you try to pick up on me." Tricia uttered a staccato laugh, stepping out of the kitchenette and into the ma
in living area of her home. "No, I don't think I'm from around here." Austin's dark brow creased in puzzlement. "What do you mean, you don't think you are? Don't you know?"
The ache began again behind her eyes, and Tricia rubbed her fingers against the delicate bridge of her nose. "No. I don't remember a lot about my past. I must have blocked it out." She shrugged and laughed again. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this."
Suddenly, Austin was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. "I do. Because I'm from the same place you are. I know who you really are, Trixi. Please, remember me." His eyes were pleading with her, and his grip tightened on her arms in his effort to make her remember. "Stop. You're--you're hurting me," she quavered. "I'm warning you, Mr. Pryme, don't do anything both of us are gonna regret."
"Trixi, I--"
"That's not my name!" Tricia shouted, breaking away from Austin and putting her hands to her head, crumpling into a heap on her daybed. "My name is Tricia Sykes. I don't know who you are, or why you're bothering me, or even why I was stupid enough to let you in my house, but--just leave me alone!"
Suddenly annoyed, Austin pulled the black knit of her sweater jacket away from her shoulder, revealing the skin laid bare by the halter top under the sweater. The bright red tattoo that mimicked an abstract face stained her smooth flesh, and it burned like a brand as Austin exposed it to the cool air. "This is an Autobot symbol. I know because I have one too." He let go long enough to unbutton the plaid shirt and roll up the sleeve of his white t-shirt, and sure enough, an identical symbol marked his muscled shoulder.
"So?" Tricia shrugged herself back into her sweater, looking up at Austin with accusing eyes. "It means I'm not the only human sympathizer."
Austin continued, undaunted by the hurt stare in her green eyes. "Can you remember where you got it? Or why? Or can you tell me why I don't see any evidence of family or your childhood?"
The pain was unbearable, and Tricia curled even tighter into a miserable ball. "I don't remember. I don't---ahh! Primus, I can't stand it," she whispered, and Austin leaned forward with a start.
"Trixi, please." That voice was so familiar, Tricia thought, and when she looked up at Austin
through a haze of agony, she saw two of him, like double vision--or not two of him, but one of him and one of what looked like a robot, with a face impassive behind a battlemask. The only similarity was the color of the robot's optical sensors and that of Austin's eyes, and when he spoke, she heard him in stereo.
"Trixi.......Trixi..."
"Optimus..." she breathed, and all the memories came crashing back into place with almost an audible "It's okay. It'll be okay," he soothed her, smiling to himself as he felt her arms tighten around his waist. "I've missed you, Trixi. I was worried about you."
Trixi sat up and smiled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. I truly didn't remember who you were....or who I was, for that matter."
Optimus nodded, taking her hand into his and studying the smooth, pink flesh of her fingers in fascination. "I understand. Perceptor told me what happened. But there is one thing I don't understand, and that's why did you do it?" His blue eyes turned sad and confused, and Trixi wanted to weep with shame.
"I ran away because--because I let myself feel things that I have no right to feel." She turned away, unable to bear her commanding officer's penetrating gaze any longer. "I put you and myself in danger if I continue to feel that way."
Optimus turned her back around to face him. "So you ran away? Trixi, that's no way to solve anything. As an Autobot, you know that. Even humans understand that. Trix, why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what, that I would cease to function if something happened to you?" she nearly shouted, on her feet in front of him, pacing up and down the small room. "I can't put that kind of responsibility on you. You are our leader, and your time is better served for the good of all of us, rather than focusing in on me."
Prime, too, was on his feet, again taking her shoulders in his powerful hands, though they were gentle this time. "And I suppose you think you can speak for me, and tell me where my time and focus belongs?" He wanted to shake her and kiss her at the same time, and a corner of his brain ruefully thought that if this was humanity, the humans were welcome to it. However, this wasn't much different than how he felt with Trixi at other times, so he decided that love--or what the elusive Cybertronian word for devotion, honor, respect and affection roughly equalled--was more universal than he'd ever realized. He had always known that as a fact, but now he knew it inside of him as truth, and he was thankful all over again for the sympathetic training. Most of all, he was thankful for Trixi, and the fact that she cared--and that was what mattered most.
"No, sir," Trixi said softly. "I don't suppose anything of the sort, but I'd do anything to make sure you were safe." She laughed a little. "That's rather ridiculous, since we're at war, and you're our commanding officer. I don't know why I feel like this. I thought if I came here as a human, I'd--"
"--forget all about me." Prime shook his head, a small smile playing about his strong mouth. "Trixi, you could go to the Crab Nebula and back, and I'd still find you. Yes, there's risks involved with all of this, but don't you think it's ultimately worth it?" He looked at her for a long time before speaking again, his bass voice edged with a sad softness. "Elita did."
Elita--strong, serene Elita, the last person who Prime had entrusted to share his burdens with. Her image swam behind Trixi's closed eyelids, and a sob choked the young femme's throat as she remembered Elita. He was right; Elita had shared his life with full knowledge that he might one day be forced to choose the good of the Autobot cause over his personal feelings for her, and she had accepted that unconditionally. She had been beside him even when they were light years apart, their sparks entertwined for as long as they both functioned. Now she was gone, and Elita had made him promise to carry on without her. Trixi's tears fell as she thought how foolish her own attitude had been, how selfish that she had never taken up that same responsibility. She looked for a long moment into Prime's blue eyes, and she shuddered to think that she might have missed this opportunity to be his encouragement, his confidant, his partner. Trixi put her arms around him, feeling his warmth against her, his arms around her, holding her safe. The contact was vastly different from the kind they shared in their other forms, but the peace that settled in her was the same, and she held on tighter. "So do I. I was wrong." Trixi smiled at him. "Let's go home."
Kup leaned over the table toward Springer and Arcee, both of the young Autobot's eyes slightly rounded with the gossip their old friend was laying down. "Well, he burst right into Perceptor's lab and said, "If you don't tell me where she went, Perceptor, I'll turn you into slag right here and now!", and what could the poor guy do? Prime was breathin' cinders, he was so mad."
"Really?" Arcee put one pink hand under her chin, listening raptly. "Wow, I don't believe it."
Springer, however, was more skeptical, and leaned back in his chair. "Ah, come on, Kup. I don't think he'd blow his top like that over some dame." He'd been watching James Cagney movies on his off-duty time, and some of the lingo had rubbed off on him. "You're kidding us, right?"
"It's---romantic, Spring." Arcee blushed. "Besides, it's kind of cute."
Springer chuckled and shrugged. "Well, whatever it is, I've gotta get back to work. See you two later." He pushed himself away from the table and walked out of the Quad, Arcee and Kup looking after the retreating bulk of their friend. They quieted their conversation, however, when they saw Prime step into the Quad through the same door Springer had just exited, and there was a scraping of chairs as everyone in the room stood to their feet.
"At ease, everyone," Prime called, and all his troops in the room did as they were bade as he walked casually toward Arcee and Kup. Kup stood to give Prime his seat, but Prime waved him back down and pulled up a chair from an adjoining table, then turned it backwards and straddled it like any common soldier. "So. I understand I'm grist for the gossip mill," he said, trying to keep his tone stern, but only half-succeeding.
Kup shifted uneasily in his seat. "Well, Prime, we were just worried about you. I mean, it's not every day you take off on a wild goose chase like that. What were we supposed to think?"
Prime's broad shoulders shook with laughter, deep bass chuckles rising from the harmonizer in his chest. "I don't know. Just do me a favor and don't embellish the truth too much, okay?"
"Optimus?" A femme's voice echoed across the Quad, but the speaker only smiled as every optic in the place turned to look. Trixi calmly walked toward the three Autobots seated at the table, and Kup grinned knowingly. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you ready to go over those stats with Ultra Magnus?"
"Sure. Tell him I'll be right there." Optimus rose from his seat as Trixi turned to go, and he fixed Kup and Arcee with a friendly gaze. "Remember what I said, you two. As you were."
The Security officer and the Tacitcal Defense officer looked after their commander with knowing smiles, and Arcee broke the silence with a sigh. "What do you think, Kup?"
"I think he's happy. I haven't seen him this relaxed since he was with Elita." Kup shrugged. "Well, come on, lass. Let's get moving."
*THE END*