Author's Note: This is a dream I put down on paper. I apologize for the OOC-ness, the perhaps wonky way I wrote it, the fact that I never got around to naming the little girl, and the pathetic title. And no, I don't own any of the characters here, except for the girl, who I am extremely jealous of. coughcough
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The Girl
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There is utter silence on both sides. One can almost feel the tension gnaw and tingle its way towards insanity. She does not remember how this whole situation even started; all she knows is fear, the thick, tangy scent of hot copper pinching her tongue, and the inescapable hold of her captor.
"One false move, and the girl dies," Megatron had said. He stands now, the young girl in his steel arms, darkly eyeing Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobots who are desperately trying to rescue her from this nightmarish ordeal.
She should be more afraid than she is, for it is obvious that Optimus is completely powerless. She should be more afraid, with Megatron's hefty blaster dangerously close to her head. She should be more afraid, for her life treads on an unbearably fine line. But she is not. Despite everything that he has said and threatened to do, how badly he has frightened her, she feels strangely safe. His words may be those of a killer, but how carefully and gently he cradles her small body tells her otherwise. His threats are cold-blooded, yet he is warm under her slight fingers.
Her kind heart is confused, and doing the only thing she knows to, she reaches for the nearest source of possible comfort.
Megatron takes a moment to glance at the girl, her delicate arms wrapping themselves quietly around his neck. Soft brown eyes stare innocently back at him, stealing his attention for a moment longer.
"Why?" she asks simply. Her light voice rains with buttercups, fire-flies on summer nights and creamy milk mustaches. She waits expectantly, but her only answer is a flicker of uncertainty deep within his crimson optics.
Suddenly, a movement catches Megatron's eye, and with an almost eerie deftness he turns, takes aim with his blaster and fires. It is a direct hit, and the offending 'bot does not stir from its hiding place behind some stunted bushes. Megatron's face splits into an ugly sneer, and the girl whimpers faintly into his shoulder.
"It seems I have greatly misjudged your capacity for foolishness, Prime," he jeers. He sets the girl down in front of him and points his blaster down at her. Nearly inaudible gasps come from the group of Autobots, and Optimus slumps slightly in defeat, optics dull with despair.
"The girl will die, and you shall have only yourself to blame," Megatron hisses cruelly. His aim is dead on; he cannot miss.
The little girl gazes up at him between knees hugged to her chest, her face pale and scared. She looks straight at him, however, her velvety eyes meeting his harsh daggers with unwavering steadiness. Seconds that seem like hours trickle past, and still Megatron does not fire. He stands motionless, blaster aimed for her heart and optics locked with hers.
And then, the impossible happens.
His shooting arm wavers, and falls limply to his side, all traces of his previous fury vanished.
"I – I cannot…" he murmurs at last. "Go back to your friends, and family." He stares fixedly at his feet, his optics troubled and expression full of shame. "Forgive me, child," he adds, in no more than a hint of a strangled whisper.
She watches Megatron for another moment before she stands up. All of her fear inexplicably forgotten, she gingerly touches his hand. He stirs from his unsettled thoughts and focuses again on the girl. She motions for him to come closer, and he obeys, slowly squatting down to her level. He smiles weakly, an attempt at friendliness, and she smiles back shyly. With blissful ignorance to the idea of unforgivable evil, she throws out her arms and hugs him tightly. Megatron stiffens, his air puzzled, embarrassed, amused, and pleasantly surprised all at once. She lets go finally, almost reluctantly, but before he can say or do anything in response, she plants a tender kiss on his cheek.
She takes a step back, and after stifling a giggle at his shocked face, she waves goodbye and skips away to the waiting Autobots.
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Long after the Autobots have left, Megatron is still in the same position that the little girl left him. But now, he is smiling, the wide, dreamy smile of a soul enraptured by pure delight. His fingers lightly stroke his cheek, the spot of his first admirer's affection still as warm as when he was first blessed with it.