Author's Note: Mirroring between two very different characters experiencing the same situation was by far my favorite self-assigned challenge yet. It can't be helped, I love to play around with pacing and parallels. It was also interesting to cut back on all that dialogue I'm usually tempted to throw in (which helped cut down any feelings of repetitiveness in this chapter).

There are two ways to read it, either straight through or with both sections side-by-side since the paragraphs line up time wise (almost perfectly!). As for more on this story's actual premise, read away to find out.

Disclaimer: Just borrowing since all recognizable characters and music legally belong to their respective owners.

Related Music: Amanda Marshall – The Sunday Morning After

Done Driving and Drunk Doing

Chapter 1 – The Sunday Morning After

I woke up with a killer hangover
Hope it was worth all this pain
(I'd do it all over again)
By the time the party was over
Tequila was my claim to fame
(I couldn't remember my name)

Blissful oblivion all too quickly gave way to painful consciousness as Maggie's eyes fluttered open. Immediately she clamped them shut once more, but the damage had been done. She was awake and all too aware of her body's current state. Fuck me, she thought resentfully.

Everything hurt. From a pounding behind her green eyes to the aching of overused feet. All the stuff in-between just felt pleasantly sore. Confused, her mind tried to think back to what could have happened. An answer came in the fuzzy memory of a full bottle of Tequila held tightly in her grasp some time last night. Focusing back on this morning, Maggie reluctantly opened one eye to a shadowy room that seemed vacant and unfamiliar at first glance. On the second look around she spotted the shape of a very empty bottle lying several feet away. Fuck me sideways. Apparently, last night was a drunken mess that had doomed her to this morning of misery.

Now why the hell would I do something stupid like that? Drinking is one thing, but I thought I learned my lesson about the evils of Tequila back in college. Groaning softly, she sat up and tried to focus better but the headache made that far from easy. The sound of a worn out air conditioner wasn't helping either. With another pained grown, she laid herself back down. But that only made the obnoxious noise of the overtaxed machine even louder.

Thoroughly aggravated, Maggie lifted her hand to brush disheveled blonde hair back from her face. The action didn't make seeing any easier but it at least assured her that she was still able to move. It also brought to her attention the metal contraption she'd been sleeping on. And just when I thought waking up on top of my roommate was the weirdest thing I could have drunkenly passed out on, she reflected.

Reaching out, she tentatively began running nimble fingers along the unconventional bed. Maggie couldn't help but notice the intricate grooves of the sleek metal surface. Especially since touching it brought back several more hazy memories and the ghost of a delightful sensation. Feeling more relaxed and exceedingly curious, she tried opening both eyes again.

The room was still dim, but now that she was prepared for it everything looked a lot clearer. Though the effort still didn't shed too much light on her current predicament. In fact, things got a whole lot more complicated when she noticed an all too familiar shirt and skirt combo strewn across the floor. Maggie didn't need to look down at herself to realize who those belonged to. I'm naked! Why the fuck am I naked? Instinctively, shaky hands came up to cover herself but another quick survey of the empty room proved that to be a wasted effort. Then she glanced down at the machine she was perched atop.

It looked both familiar and alien at the same time. The metal plating was complex without being jumbled and made a surprisingly comfortable seat. Even in the low light she could tell it was a brilliant electric blue. Maggie couldn't help but think that the color looked much more suited to a sports car's paint job then some industrial air conditioner. Absentmindedly, her fingers trailed along a seam only to pause at one of the vents. While the warm draft of air released from it felt wonderful, it also brought about even more questions. Why would someone have set this thing to hot? That's when she began to suspect that her first impression was definitely off. More curious than ever, she pushed herself up to get a better look at the contraption.

Maggie stared uncomprehendingly at the two glowing blue lenses shining back at her. There was something so alive and expressive about the mechanical movements of its intricate parts. The way they whirled and adjusted reminded her of a camera preparing to take a picture. She then noticed the metal casing they were contained in and all too quickly realized what she was actually looking at. What the fuck?

Completely taken off guard, she began wracking her brain to try and figure out what the hell happened last night. But nothing she could remember clearly was adding up to… to this! And it wasn't enough that she woke up from a drunken bender on top of a giant alien robot. Oh no. To top it all off, Maggie didn't even know its name. She was at least able to tell he was an Autobot, which brought about some measure of relief. Especially when she considered the alternative. Yup, Maggie tried to think optimistically, waking up naked on top of a Decepticon is probably the only thing that could've made this any more discouraging.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to place this particular Autobot. It was hard to be sure but if she had to guess, she'd say it was probably the robotic equivalent of a guy. There was just something masculine about him. Facially, the plating didn't look as human as some of the other bots. It was very angular with these weird metal horns along his head that swept back and gave him the overall impression of being rather aerodynamic. The design made sense when she considered how fast most of these aliens moved. What might have been a mouth extended downwards into this weird looking chin that vaguely resembled facial hair with the way it framed the lower half of his metallic features. His eyes were giving off a brilliant azure glow that she had trouble not getting a little lost in. The overall effect somehow worked well with the electric blue that colored most of his body. For whatever reason, that hard metal meant for battle caused her heart to beat just a little faster in her chest. His was a body she couldn't help but feel like she knew rather intimately. A body she was still precariously perched on top of.

Pushing herself up slowly, Maggie looked over the mech's frame and tried to decide how best to get down. It looked easy enough since he wasn't nearly as large as some of the other Autobots. Someone like Optimus would have posed much more of a problem. Even still, she didn't want to slip off and hurt herself. Or worse, piss him off. He was already giving her the distinct impression that she wasn't exactly what he was used to waking up next to either. Gulping nervously, she watched the way his glowing eyes were regarding her and decided that leaving was definitely a good idea about now. And of course it was at this inconvenient moment that the pounding in her head eased up enough to start wondering a few things besides getting the hell out of here. For instance, what if when she was climbing down she grabbed a hold of something sensitive and freaked him out? She knew their metal plated skin was shielding, but what about all those nooks and crannies in between? She'd need to slip her hands in at least a few of them on her way down. And what if she was already touching something like that now?

The idea of actually asking him for help came to mind but was forgotten as a cooler breeze from the mech's vents enveloped her skin. It served as an alarming reminder to her current lack of clothing in the presence of a guy. A nervous blush brusquely swept across her face while goose bumps rose up along trembling arms. Why am I getting so damn flustered? He may be sentient but he's still a machine. I've been naked around my hairdryer plenty of times. No big deal.

Pep talk out of the way, Maggie began climbing down. It was hard not to admire the powerful body while focusing on where she was going to grip next. Especially since she still couldn't shake the feeling that she knew it a bit too well. Her hands grazed over the lustrous armor while her feet sought footholds till they reached the floor. She was pretty sure she hadn't touched anything too offending since the Autobot remained eerily quiet the entire time. Or maybe he's so quiet because I did something I really shouldn't have...

Shaking her head to clear it of that disturbing thought only brought on another headache. With a frustrated sigh, Maggie stepped back and began moving towards the rumpled pile of clothes lying a few feet away. Aside from being wrinkled and stained to hell and back, the outfit was at least still wearable. Even if her underwear were missing. She reached down to slip on the short black skirt first only to pause when she pulled it up around her knees. What the..? The light was somehow reflecting off her legs just above the skirt. Looking closer, Maggie noticed that a weird looking silver sheen was coating her inner thighs. It shimmered when the light caught it but otherwise she probably wouldn't have even noticed. Whatever it was, it didn't feel sticky or even hard. The adhesive actually reminded her of a layer of sparkles. Like the kind some girls might wear to a club or for a strip show. Abruptly Maggie slid her skirt up the rest of the way and secured it around her hips. At the same time, her mind was trying desperately not to think about whatever implications that metallic coating meant. Especially since a few memories were beginning to surface that she wasn't quite ready to face yet.

As she reached to grab her blouse and get the fuck out of there before things got any weirder, Maggie couldn't help but get that feeling she was being watched. Against her better judgment, she tentatively turned her head to the only other occupant in the room. Her tired green eyes locked onto blazing azure lenses that were intently studying her. Her ass, to be more precise. The thought that maybe he was checking her out was immediately dismissed as she was way too confused by the very idea to feel flattered or outraged. On an impulse, she leaned back and glanced down to see exactly what was so damn fascinating about her butt to a robot. Especially since she was pretty sure these types of aliens haven't tried to probe anyone. Yet, her imagination added without humor.

Maggie looked down at her butt, only to find something staring back at her. She couldn't believe it at first, but there was really no denying that all too familiar shape. It was all over the NEST base, some of her documents at work, and on every good-guy robot that wandered in from outer space. Oh my God, I woke up with an Autobot tattoo!

Desperately needing somewhere else to look, anywhere but at that brand, which surprisingly didn't hurt, Maggie glanced up at the Autobot. He was just sitting a few feet from her, motionless. If it weren't for the glowing mechanical eyes she'd have wondered if he was even awake at all. Though as far as she could tell, he was probably deep in thought. As alien as his appearance was, she felt like she knew what each shift of his metal features meant.

Before she was too tempted to open her mouth and actually try talking to the mech, Maggie abruptly threw on her shirt and made for the only door in the storage room. This has to be, by far, the most bizarre walk of shame ever, she decided while stepping through the fumbling with the garment, Maggie struggled to remember exactly what the fuck she did last night. Well, besides that giant alien robot.

Oh my god! Oh my god!
It's the Sunday morning after, and baby who the hell are you?

8-8-8-8

My alter ego took over

And took me on a fantasy ride

(Took me on a ride)

You can take me anywhere twice

But the second time will be to apologize

Jolt's optics flickered on briefly before he chose to disable them instead. Viewing his surroundings through static-lined vision caused unnecessary stress on his processor. To compensate for the lack of a visual, the rest of his systems were initiated. Though he might as well have disengaged them considering how terribly they were lagging. Why do I have so many errors, he pondered.

Nothing seemed to be operating at any semblance of an acceptable level. Running a quick diagnostic, the blue mech linked the abnormalities to traces of highgrade in his tanks. Typically Jolt had always refrained from consuming such a potent form of energon. While it provided more than adequate sustenance, highgrade also came with undesirable side effects. Particularly if consumed in excess. And according to these readings I have had more than just my fill of the substance. Now if only he could locate the memory file detailing a report on how he achieved such a compromised state.

What compelled me to act so uncharacteristically foolish? This in no way coincides with my basic behavioral patterns and core programming. Well, at least not in matters regarding the use of intoxicants. Even the very thought of moving caused his ventilations to hitch in protest. Apparently his internal workings were still overheated, even after recharging. Jolt's audio input mechanism also seemed to be glitching since there was this incessant wet grating sound that made concentrating rather difficult.

Agitated, he trained his sensors on the noise and was alarmed to find that it originated from somewhere atop his chassis. No more information on the matter would adequately process, so he focused on clearing his mainframe of fragmented files. While he did so, more sounds and now movement were detected from the unknown object atop him. This is highly unprecedented, Jolt griped internally.

The movements continued, now resembling a light probe while coasting along his armor plating. It was a familiar sensation yet he could not place having experienced anything like it before. Now more fascinated then perturbed, the blue mech attempted to activate his optics once more.

While the lighting was faint, it still accommodated his faulty visual sensors considerably. First, the blue mech determined the layout of the room he currently occupied. It corresponded with recognizable schematics, confirming that he was within the confines of the Autobot's base. A storage room… what compelled me to recharge here?Acting on an impulse, Jolt ran another scan which informed him that no other Cybertronian was in the vicinity. Content that he was not in a completely compromised position, he finally focused on the curiosity located on top of his frame.

The Autobot was not exactly sure what he was perceiving. The shape was definitely familiar, though still too pixilated for him to be certain of anything more specific. He considered reaching out to touch it. Utilizing those receptors might provide the extra data necessary to determine what it was. Just as he was about to act on the inclination, the feel of a carbon-based touch trailed along a cooling vent. Jolt could not help but emit a rush of air at the gentle sensation.I am certain I experienced something agreeably similar to this before, but when?He suddenly located a memory file that had not been accessible a nanoclick ago. Before he could even open it, the unknown silhouette moved into his visual range. As more systems came back on line, the images around him became clearer.

Adjusting his optics accordingly, Jolt found himself staring into two predominately white orbs containing a green ring. At the center of each, a black hole seemed to be gazing back at him. He could not place having observed anything quite like it before. Zooming out to better visualize the image, he was taken aback by the sight of a human face looming just above his metallic one. This is rather...unexpected.

His mainframe attempted to connect a plausible sequence of events that might have led to this most alarming happenstance yet no discernable data sequence computed to this. All accessible data proved to be either corrupted or inconclusive. It was then he became aware of another mitigating fact. Jolt was not privy to this human's designation. His access to the base's facial recognition system was not even responding, along with several other programs that would have assisted him in classifying her. Though if they had been functioning adequately to begin with I would not have found myself in this predicament, he concluded irritably.

Deciding that some semblance of identification was required; Jolt began to take in the human's appearance manually. The first conclusion he was able to make identified it as a female of the species. Like most organics, her features were soft with varying amounts of dead skin cells protruding from her malleable external covering. The build of her musculoskeletal structure beneath hinted at a fairly athletic frame for this species. Her helm contained a thick mass of interwoven tendrils that looked quite disheveled. Pausing briefly in his analysis, Jolt could not dismiss the inclination that he was somehow responsible for that unkempt state. While her optics did not glow, they still seemed to radiate life and vitality in their green gaze. Overall her coloring was light which made identifying her ethnic origins exceedingly difficult to narrow down considering how common and widespread 'Caucasians' are. He repressed a rev of agitation at not being able to definitively place her anywhere based on that accessible information. Especially since there was something so familiar about this human and the way she pressed against his chassis.

A circuit in his mainframe began radiating signals at the thought but he disregarded it when his sensors detected her moving again. Adjusting his focus, Jolt determined that she was attempting to dislodge herself voluntarily. This would leave him to scan, defragment, and overall repair his central processing unit in peace without such a niggling distraction. Knowing this was more than a relief, since the last thing he needed was to further stress his systems by attempting to converse with the human. Even when fully functional, lowering his processing speed to communicate with the barely sentient organics of this planet was tiring. Now that his CPU was compensating for detrimental aftereffects courtesy of a high-grade induced stupor the prospect was disconcerting, at best. Not only would the interaction stress his already compromised relays, but waste valuable time needed to repair what he could before Optimus Prime, or worse, Ratchet, discovered his condition. Vented relief cooled his overcharged circuits at knowing he would not have to directly communicate with the organic curiosity for now.

He was distracted from his conceited musings by an abrupt physiological change in the human. Her vital signs began to indicate a level of stress while the texture and coloring of her external covering altered intriguingly. Jolt once again resisted the urge to reach out and manually evaluate her condition at. After all, he assured himself. I will have the opportunity to properly assess my memory banks and her when my systems are running at an optimal level.

Priorities now firmly established, Jolt averted his optics from the human's slight form as she began her decent to the floor of the storage room. Yet even without visual confirmation he could not help but get a charge out of the way she continued to brush against him. Perturbed by the very idea, the mech muted his vocalizer to silence his excited systems. It was alarming enough that she was getting such a reaction out of him; he did not need to alert the human to his internal response to her stimuli as well. I must be in need of more repairs then I had previously determined…

Keeping his gaze fixed blankly on the ceiling, Jolt distracted himself with a more thorough scan of his own physical state. It was more to keep from watching her since initiating another scan was only going to review what he already knew: every system was in disarray and in need of priority reconfiguration. The internal repairs alone would take long enough to sort through without her confounding his already lagging processes. On the subject of distractions... Jolt paused on an especially peculiar notice that flashed before his HUD. It declared that an unknown substance had been detected on his frame. Perplexed, he accessed the readings to find that the compound was organic in nature. The blue mech was well aware that humans were known to leak and shed their waste all over. That he now experienced the phenomenon personally caused his tanks to churn in disgust. Deciding that he would culture it later and put it out of his mainframe for now, Jolt rotated his helm to glare at the cause of his strife. Yet the effort to shape his features into an expression of displeasure was wasted as the sight of a familiar red emblem caused his optic guards to narrow and relays to respond erratically instead.

Uncomprehendingly, he gawked at the Autobot sigil located just above the curve of the human's stabilizing limbs. That insignia was meant for soldiers, fighting for a cause that he had devoted his life to so very long ago. To see such a noble symbol adorning her undeserving flesh was a disgrace. Before he could vocalize such indignation, Jolt abruptly felt his optics brighten when a memory file surfaced in answer to his silent questions. From his perspective, the video clip depicted the blue mech's very own servos carving the symbol of his faction into this human's organic covering. And by her goading, no less! In abject horror he wondered,Vector Sigma… what pit-spawned virus infected me to do such a thing?

What was left working of his processors reeled at the implications this presented. Statistics and diagrams flared up in his HUD while a glitching internal chronometer attempted to piece together a viable sequence from the last known time of proper functioning. By Primus, what else could have transpired during such a lapse?!

Jolt switched his attention to the human, only to find that she too appeared rather taken aback by the Autobot insignia as well. At least he presumed so since her current facial expression was rather difficult for him to accurately gauge while being so impaired. The fact that he even had an interest in determining her emotional state struck him more than anything he had observed since booting up. Somewhere in his jumbled CPU, he knew this being quite well. There were too many fragmented folders containing lines of code pertaining to her for him not to.

Ignoring her fleeing form, Jolt frantically continued searching through fragmented files while a small section of his HUD projected displeasure at the sound of the human's retreating footfalls. There had to be a logical explanation for this,he reassured himself. Aside from what I hope has not actually transpired with that small, organic femme.

Exactly where am I now, baby

Wake up and tell me your name

(Excuse me)

Cause this is insane

(Insane)