Escape From The Labyrinth...
Plenoptic
This fic has been sitting in my manager for such a long time. :D As in, like, six or so months.
This story is based off of a not-so-famous quote, but it is easily my favorite ever. My friend and I have been contemplating the answer, and I can't help but wonder…is death the only way out? As I write this fan fiction, based off of my own hurts and hopes and belief (especially in the Autobots), I hope to discover the answer for myself. Please enjoy, please review, in that order.
. B E G I N . T R A N S M I S S I O N .
"He was shaken by the overwhelming revelation that the head-long race between his misfortune and his dreams was at that moment reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness. 'Damn it,' he sighed. 'How will I ever get out of this labyrinth!'"
Simon Bolivar (The General In His Labyrinth)
"This isn't unusual."
"She's been in fights before."
"Has she really?"
"How on Earth was she raised?"
"I've met her parents, they're lovely people…her father is government employed, her mother works as a nurse…her sisters are both incredible girls, so how…?"
Yeah.
That's right.
Bash me flat as a pancake, why don't you? Just like all the others…
Hit me until I can't breathe.
You wonder, don't you? You wonder…how did a family like that wind up with HER? You wonder…I wonder, too, you know. I'm still wondering…
I want out.
Out of the labyrinth…
Jordyn leant her head back against the wall, her dyed, straightened black hair falling out of her face. Her eyelids lifted halfway off of hazel eyes, just enough for her to peek at the other boy in the disciplinarian's office. He was scowling hard, his hands in his pockets and his lower lips jutting out slightly. She almost snorted and turned her head away. There was no use getting mad now. So they got caught. What was the point in getting all huffy about it?
Oh, yeah. He'd just gotten beaten up by a girl. A not-too-tall, smaller girl. Not ridiculously thin like every other middle school student nowadays, but certainly not fat. At least, not anymore; a summer of hard-core karate had taken care of the tummy pudge problem. He'd gotten his face bashed in by a gothic girl, a girl who looked like she was just waiting for a chance to off herself. Which she was, in a way.
She was sick of it. Sick of living, sick of having to interact and exist with all of the happy, pretty little people of the world. It was time to take off, as far as she was concerned. Go join God, wherever it was he existed. She'd lived a decent fourteen years. Nothing much had happened. It was time to fly.
"Hey," she said, looking over at the boy, who glared up at her. "How high do you think that window is?"
His only answer was a rather rude hand gesture. With a sigh she got to her feet and walked over to the window, leaning out of it. "Not enough to kill me, I guess, but that's okay. I'm outta here. See ya never."
And, leaving him gaping behind her, she jumped out the window.
It hadn't quite had the killing effect she'd been half hoping it would, but the window was a clean escape before her parents could fetch her. She knew how it would've happened: her mother would run in and grip her in a back-breaking hug and start crying and ask her why she was so angry, why she didn't tell her everything that was going on, why she didn't accept help and on and on and on…
Jordyn tipped her head back. She was wearing black. She was always wearing black. It raised eyebrows, it made the preps whisper, it made the cliques move away when she approached, and she didn't care. The black was there to stay. It wasn't leaving. The black was there. She'd scribbled "BRING BACK THE BLACK" numerous times across all of her folders and notebooks and other people's folders and notebooks and even all over the whiteboard when the teacher was out of the room. She'd been caught doing it by every teacher, and only one hadn't reprimanded her. Her History teacher. He'd taken one look at the board, one look at his student, then nodded and said "Amen, sister."
Yeah, he was a cool guy, she thought, smiling as she continued down the sidewalk. But he wasn't going to miss her too bad. He'd be sad that a kid had died, just like the rest of them, then move on with his life. Maybe he'd attend the funeral. Maybe they wouldn't even hold a funeral for a screwed up kid who didn't know how to deal with her life. Maybe they'd burn her. Maybe they'd burn her body and leave no trace…
Smiling, Jordyn decided she'd like that a lot.
In weeks to come Jordyn would look back at that precise moment and, in hindsight, wonder what would've happened to her if she hadn't taken the chance she did. Her life would have undoubtedly been "spared" by her intrusive parents and she'd go on living, wondering about death, silently dreaming of escaping the labyrinth.
That moment changed everything. She paused only momentarily, only because her gut told her to. She turned, only because her gut told her to. She looked down the side road only because her gut told her to. And she kept looking because her heart was beating a drum roll inside her chest.
It was a Semi. A big, beautiful eighteen-wheeler. Its cab was multicolored, the first half red and the second blue, with inversely colored flames. She whistled as she strode toward it, deeply in awe of whoever had selected the paintjob.
She'd never fallen in love with a machine, but oh, that Semi was a thing of beauty. It stood proud in the street, solitary, the sun reflecting handsomely off of its exterior. She ran her hands along the length of the door, her fingers itching to pull open the handle and hop in. She almost abandoned the thought—and then she noticed that the lock was up.
Jordyn froze, her digits millimeters away from the handle. It was unlocked. This monster, this magnificent, metallic creature was unlocked, standing perfectly still, as though God had sent it to her at this very moment expecting her to climb in.
Which she did.
She threw the door open and leapt in, slamming it behind her. She bounced across the seat and settled in front of the steering wheel. She rolled up the sleeves of her hooded sweatshirt, though she wasn't hot. It was warm outside, but the interior of the cab was surprisingly cool. Almost cold.
Just the way she liked it.
"God, you're beautiful," she murmured, running her fingers over the steering wheel. "It's almost unfair. Here I am in my dream ride and it belongs to someone else."
She leaned against the window, stroking the seat absently with her right hand. Her head snapped up; she could've sworn the entire cab had just shuddered. Like it was enjoying it. She shook her head quickly, ridding it of the stupid thought. It was a machine. A machine like any other…
"The hell," she sighed, pulling the seatbelt down. "I'm gonna die tonight anyway. So I'll die here in this Semi or finish myself off tonight. Your choice, big guy."
There was no key in the ignition. Jordyn didn't actually care. She took hold of the steering wheel, her hands in the ten o' clock and two o' clock positions, and hit the gas.
She was out of there! Out! Of! There! One point five tons and four hundred-fifty horse power barreled out of there at a hundred miles an hour, the diesel engine screaming at the abrupt acceleration. Or—even in her panicked state she took a moment to ponder it—had that really been the engine, the whine of the pressure gages? Or was that an actual shout of surprise, an actual cry of protest as she took off?
She decided she was being stupid and that she needed to concentrate on the road. She was thankful it was still work hours; the roads were virtually empty, though she took out a fair few mailboxes as she struggled to control her vehicle.
A corner! Too close, too fast! She couldn't take it, she was gonna die here, it was gonna end…but before she could even hold her breath or scream "Please let me go to heaven and not the other way" the wheel spun, unbidden, and the Semi turned the corner in a beautiful arc. By itself, the cab pulled its trailer around in an almost acrobatic turn, clearing the corner easily without obliterating even one mailbox.
Jordyn clutched the seat as the wheel continued to turn (BY ITSELF), steering the Semi over the quiet city's almost desolate roads. Had passerby taken a moment to look closely, they would've seen a very panicked eighth grader driving down the highway—without touching the wheel.
"Woolly," she breathed, loosening slightly and leaning forward to look at the speedometer. "Very, very woolly. One hundred fifty an hour, perfect control. This is one shwank ride."
She leaned back against the seat, content to let the Semi do its work. Yeah, this was pretty insane. Yeah, she was probably going insane. But…this was so different. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect to be kidnapped by an autonomous Semi. This totally beat her definition of "different." "Different" was insulting the preps. "Different" was breaking a kid's nose in a fight. "Woolly" was being kidnapped by a Semi. "Shwank" was being kidnapped by a Semi. "Tinglin'" was being kidnapped by a Semi.
"So, are you alive or what?" she asked, leaning forward to speak directly into the steering wheel. Like that was its brain or something. Ha hah. "Hey—can you feel this?"
Once again she ran a gentle hand across the seat, and once again the thing shuddered. It was completely free this time, unbidden; an undeniable tremor pulsed through the cab. She grinned and stretched out on the seat, undoing the seatbelt as she did so.
"Woolly," she repeated, closing her eyes. "Very, very woolly…"
Her eyes snapped open. Weird dream. Aliens. Pretty shwank.
Jordyn sat up, rubbing her face to restore the circulation; she was always pale when she first woke up. Her jaw dropped when she tossed a glance out the windshield; she was on a beach. As in, by an ocean.
"Whoa," she breathed, leaning against the door to stare out at the water. "How woolly is this? Kidnapped by a Semi, get taken to the sea…this so beats Honor's Math."
"Awake, are you?" an enormous baritone suddenly grumbled, seemingly out of nowhere, and the doors abruptly flew open. She fell out, landing flat on her face, and she would've bet her right arm the Semi actually snorted, as if mildly amused by her tumble. Jordyn sat up fast, clutching her aching nose and glaring at the cab.
"That," she proclaimed, her voice nasal as she was pinching her nostrils closed, "was way out of whack."
"I'll tell you what's out of whack," the voice growled, and so began her first viewing of a transformation.
The Semi backed up and suddenly fell apart. She yelled, and for a moment panicked, but…no, it hadn't fallen apart. It was coming apart, the separate pieces sliding away and coming back together, melding, rearranging themselves in a way that almost seemed systematic. The process was slow, leisurely, and the thought of a worn out man stretching widely suddenly popped into Jordyn's head. That was sure what it seemed like; as the Semi came apart and came together, it grew up, became almost humanoid, and she could've sworn she heard a low moan echo in its shaping chest.
"Oh. My. God," she whispered, staring up at a forty-foot high robot. "This is really, really shwank."
He—she—it—was a thing of absolute beauty. Total, technological beauty. It was huge, towering, massive not only in length but in width. Each of its respective eighteen wheels lined its legs, and the windshield had separated into plates across its chest. Her mouth hanging open, she stared, slowly identifying the former Semi's parts on the mechanoid's body.
"Hey, a head," she said, mildly surprised to see something of a face upon said appendage. "And eyes! Cool!"
A steel plate covered its face, but this slid away into the sides of the robot's helmet as he crouched down on one knee. Inexperienced though Jordyn was at reading mechs' expressions, she was almost positive he was quite frankly ticked. Irked. Pissed. Dude, this guy was mad.
"You've got some nerve," the robot growled, and she decided that, judging by the incredible baritone and strangely handsome features, it was a male. "You've got some nerve, making me drag you all the way out here."
"I didn't make you do anything," she said with a shrug. "Just jumped in and hit the gas."
"That's the problem," he growled, lowering himself onto his butt with a thud. "Didn't your parents ever teach you to not touch what's not yours? Your actions would and will have consequences."
"I've got nothing to lose," she replied. "Hey, you've got some real pretty eyes. But…do you guys have some other word for them? I guess technically they'd be called 'optics', but I only know that because I read the dictionary."
He made a face, and she identified it as raising an eyebrow. "You read your dictionary?"
"Yup. The whole thing."
"Why?"
"I was bored. We all do weird stuff when we're bored. What do you do when you're bored?"
He hesitated. "…I'm not bored often."
"Huh. Another busy bug, huh? You got a name?"
"I would inquire as to yours first, human."
"I have a right to remain silent," she said immediately. She'd watched enough cop shows that she knew the whole thing by heart. "Anything I say can and will be used against me. I have the right to an attorney. If I cannot afford one…"
"What are you talking about?"
"You're with the government, right? Only the big men on top would have tech like this. I don't know why the government would bother sending a high caliber robot after a runaway kid, but I'm guessing its because I own some heirloom that's got, like, super secret documents that could bring the end of the world if they fall into the wrong hands, right?"
"…Um, no," the robot said blankly, his optics blinking slowly. "Wait, where did that come from?"
"I watch too much TV," she replied, shrugging bashfully. "Youtube, ya know? So are you here to arrest me or not?"
He sighed uncomfortably. "I'm not here because of any affiliation with the human government or military system. I took you with me because I let too much slip."
"Oh yeah. You shouted, and then you took that corner by yourself, and you shuddered when I stroked the seat, and—"
"Yeah, that," he said loudly, and she grinned. "So. Now you have a decision to make…"
"Wait, I know this one!" she shouted, and he jumped. "You either wipe my memory and I forget all of this ever happened and go back to my miserable existence or I agree to throw away my old life and join you!"
"…Well, I was just going to swear you to secrecy, but okay. I think it would be best if I returned you to your home," he said gently, but she leapt to her feet and planted her hands on her hips, glaring straight up at him.
"No. No. You can't make me go back there. No way, no how. I'm not going back, you hear me? There's no way you can force me to do so, either."
She yelped as he reached down and lifted her by the back of her hoodie, lifting her to his eye level. "I could throw you," he said, chuckling.
"Touché," she agreed, nodding. "And I don't think I'd like that too much. This is, like, the coolest thing that has ever happened to me. You're obviously a sensible guy, so how about you put me down and we talk?"
After a moment's consideration, he placed her gently upon the ground and folded his arms over his chest. "You don't seem surprised. Or scared. You act like you've seen this a thousand times before."
"No, but I've met a thousand people who have."
"What?" he asked, frowning.
She grinned widely. "I write. It's my thing. My forte, you could say. I can see and hear and feel everything my characters do. And my guys run into aliens and stuff all the time. So yeah, been there, done that."
"Interesting," he said, settling his chin upon his knuckles and propping his elbows on his knees. "I haven't met many who worked with the literacy arts. Our civilization is primarily an industrial one. I suppose we must have had art and such at one time, before the war, but I was much too small to remember."
"So you're an alien," she commented, looking up at him curiously. "Coolio. You're pretty chatty; does that mean you'll let me stay with you?"
"You're awfully adamant about it," he replied gruffly. "Won't your family miss you?"
"Maybe. I guess my buddies will. But hey, we all gotta fly the nest sometime. I was gonna fly it tonight one way or another, so I guess this is as good as any. I wanted to use my alternative because life was pointless, just endless coincidences…but this could come out really exciting. "
"What was your alternative?" he asked curiously, cocking his head to one side.
"I can't tell," she said with a smile. "I'm not even ready to admit it to myself yet. It's pretty heavy stuff. Some religions even say it's a sin to do it. I don't believe that, but hey, everyone's entitled to their own opinion. My mom says that a lot. So can I come with you or not?"
"…Are you sure it's what you want? There is a human proverb…'You never realize how precious something is until it's gone'?"
"Well then, let me find out for myself."
A small smile lifted his lips. "I've half a mind to tell you no."
"I've half a mind to jump on your back and ride you back to wherever it is you're going."
He winced. "Oh. I wouldn't want that. You might fall off, and then I might step on you. Then I'd have human organs all over my foot."
"See? Save yourself a clean up job, let me come."
He laughed and stretched a hand down to her. "Alright. You've convinced me. But I must warn you; if you come with me, little one, your safety is not guaranteed."
"Screw safety. Can you shoot massive honkin' cannons or what?" she demanded, looking up at him.
"The Pit I can. Like no other."
"Woolly," she replied, and climbed into his palm.
"What's your name? What species are you? Where do you come from? What is your ethnicity and slash or political standing? How far away is your home planet? Do you have a girlfriend? Is she pretty? Do you guys have a kid? Do you have religion? Do you think it's a sin to kill yourself? Do you have a god? If yes to the previous question, is he tangible? Are you smart? What's your IQ? Who's your best friend? Is he slash she smart? What's his or her IQ? Why do you turn into a Semi? Do you have a middle name? Does your species reproduce sexually or asexually? Do you get married? Do you call 'kids', 'kids' or something else? Are you in the military on your home planet? What rank are you? Do you guys poop?"
"Optimus Prime. Transformer. Cybertron. Autobot. Light-years from here. Kind of. Oh, good Primus, yes, the most beautiful ever. No. Sort of. Why would you kill yourself? Yes. Yes. Rather. One million, five hundred thousand, one hundred and sixty-two bytes. Ironhide. I think so. I have no idea. It kicks harder aft than Ironhide's Hummer. No. Both. We become bonded. We refer to kids as sparklings or younglings. Yes. Commander. We remove waste with a routine tailpipe flush."
"Wow," Jordyn said in awe, sitting back in his palm. "That's cool. So did you have a girlfriend or not?"
"Erm…sort of."
"Elaborate."
"Oh, good word. She's…Elita and I are bonded. It's a union of our sparks, or our souls, in human terms. We're connected on a spiritual, almost psychic level. We share our joy, our pain, our sorrow…there are no secrets."
"So…do you love her?"
There was a long, almost awkward silence. Jordyn almost took the question back, until he said quietly, "Yes. Very much. With all my spark…whether she knows it or not."
She laughed. "Is she here on Earth? Do I get to meet her?"
"If you'd like. She's fascinated by you humans, I'm sure she'd be willing to associate with you."
"Very shwank. It'll be nice to see some more girl power on the field. How many of you are there? What're everyone's names?"
"Oh, Primus, we've had so many come in since Mission City…ah…let's see here. There's me, Ironhide, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Jazz—but his spark was only recently revived, his body is still in stasis lock—and then there's Prowl, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Elita, Chromia…and that's it, I suppose.
"Big crew."
"It gets bigger every day," Optimus sighed. "But we manage."
"So have you had contact with other humans?" Jordyn questioned, secretly hoping the answer was no. She wanted more than anything to leave the human world far behind her; it certainly hadn't done her any favors.
"A few," Optimus admitted, glancing over his shoulder to look at the giant chasms his feet made in the sand. It was a good thing this area was relatively deserted—sharks in the water. "Two teenagers a bit older than you, a soldier and his wife, the secretary of defense, his advisor, her advisor…and one man who we did little more than lubricate on, yet for some reason he doesn't seem to like us."
"You guys peed on him?"
"He had it coming to him."
"No one in this world appreciates being peed on. I will hurt you really bad if you try to pee on me."
"I'll keep that in mind. Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. Your name?"
"Didn't I tell you? I thought I did. It's Jordyn. With a 'Y'. Never, ever forget the 'Y', I will punch your face in."
"Good luck with that," he snorted, and was about to say more when he was suddenly tackled.
"Optimus!"
"Ouch! Hey, Elita—what in Pit's name are you doing?" Optimus demanded of the femme who had flown into him, holding his precious cargo high above his head. Jordyn peeked over the side of his hand to gaze upon the pink and white bot, who was clutching her mate around the waist and gasping loudly. After a moment's thought Jordyn realized she was laughing.
"Sideswipe," the femme choked out, still holding Optimus for support. "Ah ha hah…being…an idiot…"
"What else is new?" Optimus grumbled, rolling his optics. "Could you let go of me now? I'm carrying someone."
"Who?" Elita turned her head up and gaped at the human peeking over the side of her mate's palm. "Oh, holy slag. Another one?"
"Hi!" Jordyn shouted down, waving. "You must be Elita! Nice to meetcha!"
Optimus bent over and placed the girl gently upon the ground, and she seemed rather glad to hop down and begin to observe Elita from an ant's point of view. "Wow. You're, like, really tall."
"Not really," Elita replied, promptly dropping onto her butt in the sand. Optimus groaned slightly. "You got a name, squirt?"
"Squirt."
"Awesome."
"It's Jordyn," Optimus corrected, scowling at the human while she grinned. "Elita, where's Sideswipe?"
"About a mile down. Go easy on him, love, it was all in good fun."
"What was all in good fun?" Optimus asked suspiciously.
"Stuff," Elita replied airily, waving a hand to shoo him away. "Go. Girl time now."
"I'm already gone," Prime said with a groan, hurrying down the beach.
"Okay, kid, tell me honestly," Elita said seriously, looking down at Jordyn, who had sat down in the sand with her legs sprawled wide, and was now drawing in the mud with a finger. "What are you doing with us?"
"Getting away from it all," Jordyn said, looking up at her. "Between you and me—because I'd never tell a guy—I was going to kill myself tonight."
Elita gaped at her. "You…why?"
"Because I was kinda sick of it all," Jordyn replied, folding her legs and propping her elbows on her knees. "Because I was kinda just ready for it all to end, you know? I was sick of living, I was sick of having to get up in the morning and put on a happy face and look like I was enjoying myself while on the inside I'm so screwed up it's not even funny. I was just tired of pretending."
"So why go with us?" Elita pressed.
"Because this looks like it could be exciting," Jordyn said with a grin. "That's all."
"That's Ironhide—the black one who looks like he'd rather be anywhere in the universe right now but here. The yellow one's Ratchet, and the other yellow one is Bumblebee, who I like much more. Because I'm too lazy to describe them all, that's Prowl, that little perv over there is Sideswipe, that psycho is his twin Sunstreaker, and this is my old friend Chromia. Oh, yeah, the lug over there is Optimus, but you already know him."
"…Hey, did Elita just totally bash everyone except for Bumblebee and Chromia?" Sideswipe asked loudly, and there were a few vigorous nods.
"I wasn't bashed," Prowl said, raising a hand, and Sunstreaker kicked him. "Ouch! I'll put you on report for that!"
"Yeah, yeah, you old piece of slag. Bite my aft."
"I'd be rinsing the aftertaste out of my mouth for orns afterwards."
"You little bull-spawn!"
"Cool your jets, guys," Elita said loudly, setting Jordyn on the conference table in front of her. "We've got guests. Didn't your mothers teach you manners when you were wee little sparklings?"
"No."
"Not particularly."
"Woolly," Jordyn said approvingly, looking around at them all. "Very woolly. Is it okay with you guys if I kick it here for awhile?"
"Oh, I like her," Sideswipe said immediately, grinning. "Listen to this kid. Talk some more."
"Uh, what'm I supposed to say?"
"Tell us about yourself."
"…Um, okay. I'm fourteen, but my idea of a real tinglin' time is sitting on my butt reading fan fiction online. Which is really pretty shwank, I think everyone should give it a shot at least once before they hit the dirt. I keep good grades because other than reading fan fiction I've got nothing better to do than study, which is really kinda pathetic, but so is your face so I guess who cares. My slogan is 'Bring Back The Black' because black is awesome and so am I so it fits. My logic sucks, but people think that's pretty shwank. I don't have friends, I have buddies, and I don't have buddies, I have homies. When we chill at their places we go on walks in the dead of night and one time we walked by this old barn and we heard a baby laugh and it was totally whacked out. And we were walking down this totally black road and we got to this bridge and we turned back because we all had this feeling like we really should not keep going. Like there was a killer over there or something. So yeah I guess I'm basically screwed up. The end."
"Yeah, I like her," Sideswipe concluded. "You're hangin' with me sometime. And Sunstreaker. And Jazz, when he's all good and diggin'."
"Tinglin'. Hey, you know what's awesome? That was, like, totally a run on paragraph and you guys understood every word of it. Tell me how."
"The world wide web," Optimus replied, tossing a glare in Sideswipe's general direction. He was already being far too familiar with the human. "It contained every language known to the human race. Quite helpful, really. Unfortunately, that includes slang…"
"Which my bro and I promptly adopted," Sideswipe finished, grinning slightly maniacally. "By the way, I'll bet you my right arm we're half as screwed up as you are. Well, he is, anyway."
"I heard that," Sunstreaker growled coldly, his optics narrowing. "Don't put me on the same level as some kid. I am a whole new league of screwed up. You have not even brushed surface of screwed up until you have spent a good hundred orns in solitude with me."
"He speaks the truth," Prowl groaned, having spent many deep space missions with the psychotic mech.
"I don't suppose you have any desire to meet our human allies?" Optimus inquired, ignoring the bickering of his men and turning to the girl.
"Not really, no," Jordyn replied, shrugging. "Not yet, anyway. There's no need, is there?"
"I suppose not. I'll let Ratchet put together a quarters for you, I have a cerebral ache coming on…"
"…Oh, a migraine?"
"Yes."
"Sorry. I feel for you."
Optimus smiled and pushed the human over with one finger. "Rest well. We'll introduce you to the coming-abouts of the base tomorrow. For now I suggest you rejuvenate. This must be a lot to process in one day."
"Like I said," Jordyn said, shrugging. "Been there, done that."
Optimus groaned slightly as Elita's graceful hands massaged his neck plates from behind, and his body fell lax almost immediately. "Primus, you do that so well."
"Yeah, I've been told that," she replied, smiling. "You're too soft, you know that?"
"Elita, what was I supposed to do? She was trying to kill herself," Optimus said firmly, tipping his head back to look up at his mate. "Should I have left her? Let her crash me into a wall, extract her body, and be on my way?"
Elita sighed and leaned her elbows on the back of the couch, bringing her face closer to his. "I don't know, okay? But she still has a family. And it's not like with Sam and Mikaela, we actually took custody of her. Illegally, I might add. If Keller gets wind of this…"
"He won't," Optimus replied softly, lifting a hand to stroke his lover's face. "This is what Jordyn wants. And she'll see reason soon enough, you'll see. Now come here, I can't kiss you properly like this."
She smirked and came around the couch, settling comfortably into his lap. The position didn't last long; within moments she was on her back, his body pressing upon hers, their lips locked in a passionate kiss. There could have very well been threat of sparklings had Sideswipe and Ironhide not poked their heads in and whistled loudly.
"Go get her, Boss!"
"What the Pit?! Ironhide, Sideswipe—!"
"Oh man, run! He's mad now, run!"
"Come back here! When I get my hands on you two—!"
"Go on without me, Ironhide! Save yourself!"
"Aw, shaddup, ya stupid aft."
"You Pit-slagging redneck!"
"Shrapnel brain!"
"Kiss aft!"
"Ya take tha' back!"
"Make me!…Oh, slag, now there's two of them on me!"
Chuckling, Optimus abandoned the chase to Ironhide and reentered the rec room. Elita smiled as he came back in and opened her arms wide; he settled willingly back into her warm embrace with a whispered, "Now, where were we?"
. E N D . T R A N S M I S S I O N .
All that stuff with the midnight walks really happened. We take walks at midnight and at 2 in the morning whenever we're over at one of their houses. One night my two homies were walking past this old barn and they heard a baby laugh out of nowhere. Apparently they ran back to the house full speed. Then, when I went with them, we got to this bridge and all stood there for about five minutes.
"Dude, I think we should turn back."
"Uh, yeah. I have a really bad feeling about this."
"Duh. It's like if we go on…okay, I get the feeling we should really not go on."
"Yeah."
"Dude…"
"Let's go back."
So we turned around and walked. Fast. Then one of them is all "No, no, just walk normal, it'll only make it worse if we run…" As a joke I took out my cell and the screen was all bright, so I flashed S.O.S in Morse code. It was pretty shwank. We all got back inside panting and terrified. So we watched Youtube. And played Guitar Hero, which rocked!
Please enjoy, please review, in that order.
The other time, we stayed up until like four playing Digimon...that's like the best game ever, you should all try it. (We only tried it because her Kingdom Hearts was being a buttface). (Oh yeah, I'm done now).