...

Phoenix

...

It had come as a surprise to Jack. The minute he'd heard about it, the first thing he'd asked was, "Is she here to stay?" Arcee had simply shrugged her struts, but Jack had ignored her, and bolted out of the bay.

She'd changed so much since the last time he'd seen her, and that was when she had been boarding an off-planet bound shuttle, alongside Springer and Magnus...

Gone was the misheivous rocker chick, gone was the mech-anime enthusiast, and gone was the loudmouth who'd gotten him into trouble more times than he could count. In its place was a woman; strong, smart, determined, a warrior in every respect...

An honorary Wrecker...

Primus, how long had it been? Five years? Ten? And yet here she was...

She snapped a lazy salute, in that smart-ass way of hers, that only she had been capable of mastering, and said, "Wrecker operative, Mikoto Nakadai, reporting for duty, sir!"

Jack waved a hand. "At ease." And then he hugged her tightly, and to no one's surprise, Miko hugged back.

She'd gotten rid of the pinkish-red streaks in her hair. That was the first things he'd noticed, when she'd arrived. Her now raven-black hair had been tied back into a clumsy tail, a hairstyle she'd adopted, so as to prevent any strands from distracting her in combat.

Combat...

Miko lived for combat. A week after she'd come back to Earth, they'd been needed at some woody part of Europe. The Decepticons had been tearing the place apart, something awful, and that one skirmish was forever lodged in Jack's memory, possibly forever.

He rememberd it vividly; the surrounding forest was on fire, flames leaping like wild beasts, embers shooting past like angry insects, the near constant roar of burning wood.

And there she was, piloting her mecha, her weapon blazing, custom-made rounds spitting forth, pulverizing the squad that had tried to flank her, chainsword buzzing angrily, the motorized teeth glowing red hot, their angry roar turning into a high pitched whine as they tore through armor and limbs, sparks flying like a fireworks display gone to hell.

And with the flames surrounding her, their crimson-orange glow glinting off the mecha's armor, she truly looked like a creature made from fire, an embodiment of war and combat and battle...

It had been terrifying...

But, in it's own way, it had also been beautiful.

Jack remembered the first time he'd seen her drunk. He'd entered the mess hall, just in time for Miko to flop into his arms. She was babbling madly, her eyes half lidded, the scent of alcohol on her breath.

Jack, dumbfounded, looked to an idle Prowl.

"Raf did it," he said nonchalantly, without looking up from his datapad.

"So...listen to any good songs, lately?"

Miko looked up briefly, before ducking back down to work. "No, not really," she said, "Should get myself some CDs, though."

Jack watched, as he leaned against the work table, a mug of steaming hot recaf in hand. An energon powered weapon, scaled down for human use, lay there, dismantled. Every piece was now being inspected, cleaned, replaced, and then set back down on the table again. Her hands, which had once expertly strummed a guitar's strings, now darted around the weapon's individual components, with the same practised finesse.

She wore a sleeveless shirt, because she'd developed a taste for sleeveless shirts, and her arms were completely exposed, revealing the sinewy muscle she'd developed, that were more suited to a dancer's, and the scars-

Jack felt his throat tighten at the sight of the scars. They were faint, almost invisible, if one didn't look too closely, but they were there; pale, thin lines, that criss-crossed up the length of her arm, with faint nicks and scratches on her hand and fingers.

He pulled back his own sleeve, up to the wrist, and found he had the same.

A snap and click, signaling completion.

"All done!" she said, cheerfully, "Come on; let's go get some grub..."

It had happened, once more, on New Year's Eve.

Jack sighed and shook his head, as he watched Miko giggle and stagger about, a bottle of what he could only assume to be an alcoholic beverage clutched in her hand.

"Goddamnit, Raf!" shouted Jack, "Did you get Miko drunk again?"

She'd woken up in Jack's bed. Jack had to admit, it was kind of funny seeing Miko fight back the massive hangover she was suffering from. "Primus," she swore, "What the hell happened to me?"

"You drank a shitload of beer," explained Jack, "You're lucky my room was so close; you would've passed out in the hallway..." He stirred the remedy he'd swiped from the med bay and handed it to the young woman. "Here, drink this; you'll feel better..."

Miko grumbled an incoherent response, and downed the remedy. Almost immediately, she coughed and spluttered. "What the hell? This tastes like shit!"

Jack couldn't help it; he laughed.

Their next assignment, surprisingly, took them to another planet entirely. Graia was the world's name, an uninhabited rock of grey stone, and black chasms. Their mission was to look for any energon deposits the Autobots could safely mine, and Graia was positively swollen with energon.

Their mission had been completed in a single deca-cycle, with seven possible energon veins located and marked, and they were now waiting for pickup.

And then it had started raining.

Almost as if it had been rehearsed, Miko popped open her mecha's cockpit, and let the rain drops thunder down on her face and chest, soaking her shirt. She stood up in her seat, and threw her arms wide, shaking her hair out of its tail, whooping loudly, as the ice-cold drops flew every which way, and for a minute Jack was stunned, before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Some things didn't change...

And then, one day, while on mission, she'd gone missing. She had been sent for a scouting mission to a planet called Hastur, before he'd woken up that morning, and it was only near noon, did he receive the news.

Jack was beside himself. He had paced the main bay like a caged animal, so great was his anxiety, and his temper was on a short fuse. He'd already sent Bumblebee scurrying for cover when a short reprimand from Optimus Prime had sent him to his quarters, like a child being punished.

Alone, and insulated from the noise of the main bay, Jack was left to worry. He couldn't lose Miko again. She'd already left once, and he didn't think he would be able to forgive himself if she went KIA.

He'd drifted off to sleep, and horrible images assaulted him; Miko stripped naked and strapped down to a table, while razor sharp tools sliced her open, Miko screaming as Hastur's aggressive wildlife tore her limb from limb with broken and jagged teeth, Miko forced to kneel down to the ground, while a Decepticon levelled his weapon at her head.

He'd then woken up screaming, and Arcee had burst into the room, and she laid a comforting servo on his back, as he shivered, trying to banish the visions from his head.

No, he definitely wouldn't forgive himself, he wouldn't...

But Miko was tougher than that.

After a day or so, they'd received a beacon, pinpointing Miko's location, with several Decpeticon signatures flanking her. Without a moment's hesitation, Jack had jumped into his mecha, and taken the first Bridge to Hastur, his weapon and sword primed and ready to deal death to the enemy.

What he found, instead, was something else entirely.

There, strewn across the desert floor, were the burning bodies of the enemy, twisted, hacked, torn, blown to bits, mutilated, eviscerated, and generally torn to pieces, their energon soaking into the ground, until it was soggy, like mud.

And there, sitting on a mound of Decepticon carcasses, was Miko's mecha, the woman herself sitting in its cockpit, the canopy open, and she sat there, smiling, half tired, half happy. There were several scrapes on her hands and face, and a shoulder injury that had been tended to with a now bloody cloth, that made Jack's stomach turn.

"You're okay...," said Jack stupidly.

"Yes I am," sighed Miko, a tired, yet smug, smile on her face. In the background, they could hear the Autobot troopers making a perimiter sweep.

"Could've left some 'Cons for us," said Jack, smiling.

"And let you have all the fun?"

The minute she'd gotten back, she was put under the ministrations of Ratchet. The medic concluded that her injuries were not life threating, and tended to her shoulder wound with medical gel, the wound healing instantly. After that, she was prescribed a shower, a helping of rations, and sleep, in that order.

For once, Miko didn't complain, and she sighed as she flopped onto her bed, adorned in a sports bra and shorts, feeling grateful for the soft sheets and pillows, and the blissful hum of the air conditioning, a far cry from Hastur's desert climate.

A few seconds later, she heard her door swish open. Frowing, she cracked open her eyes, and felt strong arms wrap around her waist, and the lightly muscled chest on her back.

"Jack-"

"Shhhh..."

Miko bit her lip, unable to think of what to say, but ran with it anyway, her body settling againts Jack's. This certainly felt awkward, but she'd been through worse; she'd ask Jack about this in the morning. And besides, being in Jack's arm didn't feel so bad; it felt somewhat pleasant, and dare she say it, even safe...

Miko smiled as she wriggled around and dug her face into Jack's chest. Who was she kidding; this felt great!

Jack's breath caught in his throat, as Miko nuzzled his chest. But this was to be expected, after all; Miko was inherently unpredictable, like a rushing river, or like a roaring flame...

Like a phoenix...

A short speculative fic, mainly dealing with Jack and Miko. I just wrote this a day ago, mainly for fun, and partly because I'm a little stuck with Exile for the moment.

I particularly like the JackxMiko pairing, or the Jiko pairing as they're calling it nowadays; it may not look like it, but these two characters really click together.

I hold no love for the JackxArcee romance, however. The two don't really seem like the sort to form a relationship, and i'm not talking about the biological differences either. That, and the fact that the JackxArcee romance stories are way too overdone, to the point of being boring and annoying.

Miko might not be the perfect person for Jack, but as she gets older, she might start seeing the world from Jack's point of view, and Jack from her's.

I can imagine Miko growing up into a strong, loyal, independent woman, with the battle scars to prove it as well. She might lack Jack's aura of 'Honorary Prime', but her status as an honorary Wrecker will more than make up for it.

But more than that, she will still exude her usual smart-assery, even in the field of combat. Miko will still be Miko, no matter how much we might complain, and I think even Jack might agree that Miko is better no other way.