TITLE:
Relations
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by
people with a lot more money
Author’s Voice of Warning (aka Author’s Note):
English is not my first language; it’s German. This is the best I can do. Any
mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: the incredibly fast okami_myrrhibis. Thank you so much!
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The day had started out with the arrival of several new soldiers of various
backgrounds that would join Epps’ unit. The core team that had been to
So new troops arrived.
That was normal. It happened all the time.
Meeting Barricade usually got them wondering. The former Decepticon made no
secret out of who and what he was. Bumblebee evoked
friendlier reactions, though also the ‘what’s his deal?’ and ‘where’s the
trap?’ mutterings. Sam they didn’t take seriously. The young engineer was still
looking like a kid, even at twenty-five, but he had no trouble dealing with any
soldier who gave him narrow-eyed looks. He had learned from the best.
What had them staring and whispering was
They either had been briefed or they would shortly be by Epps and the others.
What didn’t go well were those moments when one or two got cocky. Will loathed
those times. He could hear them mouthing off to the others about what a freak
he was. How they wondered that the military allowed him around. How he was
weird and belonged to a freak show. Sometimes there were remarks on how it was
good that he was no longer the commander of the unit. It had happened once;
that guy had been removed asap. There were those who
didn’t get it after almost four weeks that the giant mechanoid aliens were
their alien allies, not over-sized refrigerators for them to command.
When one of the new batch, formerly Sector Seven, commented that
But sometimes one or two fell through the screening process.
Those were the times he needed to talk to Epps. His friend was now in charge
and he had to know. It felt like ratting out a fellow grunt, but these men
would work with aliens. Deal daily with alien life and culture. If
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Epps regarded him thoughtfully and Lennox knew something was happening in that
brain of his. Something evil. Epps could be a bastard
if he wanted to; he had learned from the best, too.
“Say, you still looking for a job?”
Will frowned. Sometimes he was going stir-crazy, sometimes he felt utterly
useless, and sometimes he simply got the shit shot and beat out of him by
Ironhide in their training sessions, which made him feel nothing at all from
general exhaustion. Now and then he would join his old team for training, which
always had him sweaty and dirty and bruised in the end. A really good feeling,
he decided. Like old times.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well, I need to clear it with Banachek, but I doubt he’ll have any objections.
I want you to do the first screening of the candidates chosen for working at
the base or with the Autobots – before they even set foot on base.”
“What?”
“You heard me: you choose who gets to stay and who has to leave because he’s
some weird xenophobe underneath all the hard-ass soldier shit. I get the files,
Will, I read them,. I look at their service records, I
can talk to them a little, but I can’t drag any of the mechs with me to
confront them with reality. The military can brief them all they want, but the
hands-on experience usually turns them into wrecks.”
“How else?”
“Rob…”
“Hey, if they survive your looks and your selection process – and I know you
can be just as hard-ass as they pretend to be – they are ready to work with the
team. Have Ironhide along for some first contact and they won’t piss their
pants when they meet Barricade any more.”
Will chuckled. “Yeah. Those not keeling over or
running away screaming might just make it through the first rounds of
questions.”
Epps grinned toothily. “Right you are. So, you game?”
“I’m all game if Banachek says it’s okay.”
“Let me handle him. You just dig out your old officer handbook and get ready.”
“Yes, sir,”
Epps threw a paper ball at him. “They’re all yours. Show them your stuff.”
Will laughed. “All of it?”
“Well, no robot sex or kinkiness. Everything else I leave to you.”
“I won’t even go protoform on them.”
“Might just do the trick.”
Will shrugged. “I’m not going to scare them to death, just give them the
choice. They either pull their act together or leave. Simple
as that.”
Epps nodded. “You run into any trouble, holler. They’re my men. You’re the
advisor; I’m the kick-ass commander.”
“Sure do. But I think as your first introduction to scaring the new guys you
can start with the two problematic characters we acquired with this batch. Feel
up to it?” Epps challenged.
“You sure you want them running?”
That got
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That’s how ‘confrontational training’ was born. It
wasn’t on any kind of schedule, not even officially in a report, but the core
unit soon picked up on it as the recruits got to see
It was easy to fall back into his role as a military man, Will mused. He hadn’t
buried the Major deep enough and stepping back into the commander role was like
he had never been away. Those who had fought with him in
Some of the new ones reacted with interest to his suddenly regular presence,
one or two with moderate discomfort, and those two Will had listened in on with
disgust. He wondered how their screening had gone because it must have missed
out on some aspects of their not-so-shining personalities. He had read up on
them in their files and found nothing out of the ordinary. They were good,
qualified, had had missions abroad, but this was clearly over their heads.
It was when Jonesy, one of the old crew, reported an incident with Jazz that
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“If you have a problem, say it now.”
“No problem, sir.”
“Don’t bullshit me, private,” he addressed the taller one. Private Dabasso, he
reminded himself. The other was Tomas. “I’ve had my share of Marines and they
were better at bullshitting me than you two. You knew what this meant. You were
thoroughly briefed.”
Tomas looked a little uneasy. “No one said anything about…” He stopped.
“About me?”
“Sir.”
“We were told about
As if. Dabasso had been the one who had been heard talking about Ratchet as if
he was a giant medical machine, not a sentient life form.
“But not me?”
“It’s just… strange, sir.”
“Get used to it. You work here, you get to see a lot
of strangeness. Mine’s just more visible.”
“Sir.”
“You can still go back, privates. This isn’t a permanent assignment. We need
people we can rely on here, people who can ignore the weird and look past the
strange. This,” and he raised a rune-covered hand, “is
weird and strange and freaky. Believe me, I know. It’ll get even stranger by
the time you finish your third month on the base. Now the question is, can you
work with me or not? Can you work with Sam Witwicky? Can you work with the
Autobots?”
Dabasso shifted unconsciously and Tomas had his eyes on the wall, standing to
attention.
“Think about it, privates. There’s a ride going back to Nellis in twenty-four
hours. Either you get your act together or you’re on it. Good day.”
They pulled off an almost perfect salute and walked out the door.
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“So I heard you scared the newbies.”
Ironhide’s optics reflected his amusement. Will grew more serious.
“But seriously, they need to handle this or leave. Rob can’t have people that
scare at the slightest freakiness in his team. I’m a mildly freaky appearance
to, say, you guys.”
“You scare them more because you’re human,” Ironhide rumbled, not the least bit
offended.
Will nodded, no longer surprised at the mech’s astute power of observation. Ironhide
hid a lot underneath his trigger-happy and grumpy exterior.
“You guys are completely alien. They can work with that after a period of
adjustment. Having a human, a former fellow soldier, turn out to be a mutant is
different. They might wonder if it can happen to them, if they have to be extra
careful, and so on. Sam they can handle. He’s normal on the outside and his
powers don’t threaten them. Me, I’m an unknown.” He shrugged.
“You’re not a freak, Will,” Ironhide said quietly, repeating what he had said
dozens of times before. It never got old; it was never one too many.
“I know, I know. You guys keep reminding me of it.”
“Maybe one day your under-developed, organic brain might even register it,” came the sarcastic reply.
Will chuckled. “One can only hope.”
He looked at his tattooed skin, watched the runes lazily swirl around his
wrist. Some didn’t even move at all. None ever stayed permanently anywhere,
aside from the one on his neck and shoulders, and Ironhide’s name around his
wrist. On some days, his face was almost completely free of any glyphs or
runes, and on other days he had then all over the place.
“Well, my work’s done for today. Time to work on my tan,” he announced lightly.
Ironhide watched him go, then followed.
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Twenty-four hours later Private Dabasso was on his way back to Nellis, Private
Tomas was still at the base. Epps just gave Will a nod, not commenting.
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Another twenty-four hours later Will’s new job had finally been cleared with
Banachek and whoever else needed to give his consent.
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The flight to Nellis two weeks later was both liberating and filled with
tension for Will. Liberating because it was the first time he didn’t have to
hide; and tense for the same reason. A chopper had picked him up, much to
Ironhide’s grumbling. Apparently the black mech had wanted to come along, but
Prime had vetoed that, stating that for the first meeting between
The crew of the chopper greeted Will like they would anyone and
He had talked to Dunn before and he knew the men ‘handling’ him had been
briefed, knew what to expect. It sounded like he was some kind of dangerous
artifact.
Great.
When he had voiced that thought, Sam had accused him of projecting.
The base had a population of nearly nine thousand people, spread out over an
area of forty-six square kilometers. The chances that all of them got to see
Will were slim. Still, he was careful on that first day. Not that he would ever
go into the residential areas.
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The first meeting went well, though it didn’t happen in the base commander’s
official office. To keep
Dunn offered Will all the help he wanted, showed him the office he would use
for the crew interviews, and introduced him to Captain Mike Bowman, his
personal liaison on the base. Bowman was a tall, amiable guy with sharp blue
eyes, the usual crew cut, and a likeable smile. He would shadow Lennox,
accompany him wherever he needed to go, would be the go-between in case of
problems, and he would even fly him back and forth from base to base should
Will request a lift.
“I looked at your service record, Major,” Dunn said as they sat down in the
office again. Bowman wasn’t present.
“I’m no longer on active duty, sir.”
Dunn inclined his head. “Maybe not on paper, but I think Mr. Banachek made it
clear that while the title is obsolete, the rank is still there. You were the
first liaison to the Autobots. You helped pave the way. I respect your work and
Captain Epps gave me an idea as to who you are.”
Dunn smiled. “Nothing bad. Your service record speaks
for itself.”
As does my skin, Will thought darkly.
“The SecDef made it clear to me what he expects of my base and my men. I can
assure you, Major, there won’t be an incident. You can move freely around the
base. Captain Bowman is your personal contact. Talk to him
about whatever is required.”
“Thank you, General.”
“Don’t thank me, Major. I’ve talked to Captain Epps and I know of the
problems with the selection process. It’s hard to get across what’s it like out
here, what’s expected at the Autobot base. You can prepare men for war
situations, deserts, jungles and open water, but aliens?”
Will smiled. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I know. Well, Major, good luck with your new job,” Dunn grinned.
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It wasn’t much of a surprise that Ironhide was picking him up at the end of his
visit instead of Lennox getting the air-ride service home.
“So?” the mech prodded.
“Subtle, ‘hide,” he teased.
“You want subtle? You talk to Jazz.”
“Want some assistance?”
Will smiled. “Not right away, but since I’ll be easing the new guys into
working with you… having you around might help.”
“There hadn’t been much easing in with the others,” Ironhide agreed. “Sometimes
the gawking gets a bit tiresome.”
Will burst out laughing.
“Hey, I feel like some dusty, old museum piece,” Ironhide complained.
“You got the old part right.”
“Watch it,
“Oh, you wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Will leaned back in the seats, enjoying the banter. They were almost home and
while he had been happy to be out and about, even if it was just more or less
around the corner at the desert air base, it was good to be home, too.
“Got plans?” he asked softly.
There was silence and he could almost hear the processors clicking. “Are you
coming on to me?” Ironhide asked suspiciously.
He grinned. “What if I were?”
“Then you better stop teasing before we shock the new recruits even
more.”
While Will wasn’t the exhibitionistic type, something inside him reacted to the
low rumble. Maybe it was just the fact that the tension was easing. Runes swam
over his skin, tell-tale of his thoughts.
Ironhide chuckled. “Humans,” he muttered.
“Oh shut up! You started it!”
“I thought you didn’t react to me,” Ironhide teased mercilessly. “I’m not your
kind. I’m not attractive to a human.”
Ironhide suddenly stopped and before Will knew what was happening, he was flung
from the cabin and was rolling over the desert. He was smoothly back on his
feet and glaring at the now transformed mech.
“What’s your problem?” he demanded.
Ironhide knelt down. “The problem seems to be you. And you have it with me.
When will you accept that what you feel and need is reflected by me? When will
it enter your thick head that should you want to initiate a sharing or just be
close, you can do so?”
Will clenched his hands into fists and glared more.
“Will,” Ironhide coaxed. “Sometimes it’s healthier to let go.”
“I never was the type,” he muttered.
And he had never been the type to talk about emotions. Sarah had read him
better than he himself. She had known and he had been grateful for it. That way
he didn’t have to say what he felt. Now he was facing not only something he was
still not accustomed to – a body that was no longer human – but also the fact
that his partner was alien. He had to talk or live with the miscommunication.
Or he had to listen to his body.
Next thing I know we find ourselves in a dark corner of the base and groping,
he thought, remembering his conversation with Sam.
“We should go home,” he finally said, raising his eyes to meet the even, blue
optics.
Ironhide tilted his head and a smirk appeared on his features, but he rose
without a word and transformed.
But only for now.
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His new job pre-empted all attempts of physical closeness with Ironhide for the
next days. Will’s first week on the base was spent finalizing his housing
arrangements, as well as moving his office space into where he would live. In
that regard it wasn’t any different from living with the Autobots. Bowman had
driven him to what looked like a former storage unit. It was spacey, it was in
good shape, it had all the requirements and it was enough out of the way that
casual passers-by wouldn’t happen.
Bowman had several men clean it out and push in what looked like half an
apartment home, including a TV set that would have made Epps cry with
appreciation.
“You know that this beauty makes you the ideal host for the next football
party,” Bowman joked.
Will laughed. “Yeah, right. You bring the food, I’ll
bring the space.”
A thought that immediately came to his mind was that this place was large
enough for Ironhide to stand up in, and
Over time he got to know his liaison a lot better over coffee and sandwiches. Bowman
brought food with him whenever he came over for lunch. By the end of the first
week Will’s place was up and running and he had been given a few insights into who Captain Michael Bowman was. They had traded service
stories, dropped a few hints as to dangerous missions and places they had been
sent to, and generally found they were pretty much alike.
Bowman asked him quite openly about what had happened and
Will found himself talking about the accident – which he
couldn’t really remember – the changes, the consequences, his ‘death’, the loss
of his family. It was liberating in a way. Bowman in turn told him about
his work for the 422d Test and Evaluation Squadron, about losing two of his
best friends in a simple aerial maneuver over supposedly friendly grounds, his
own crash, his rescue, his fight to remain in the service, and how he had
finally been allowed back on active duty – just not back into a squadron again.
“That had to suck,” Will commented.
“Not as much as giving it all up like you. You and your men were the heroes of
the hour, Major.”
Will laughed humorlessly. “We didn’t feel like it,
believe me. We survived and we handled it. Everything else after that…” He
shrugged.
Bowman cleaned his plate of the last fries and wiped his hands on a napkin. “We
lost men and civilians that day. I lost almost a whole squad of F-22s. I know
it was a war and I know we won it for now. The question is,
are we really prepared for another?”
Will met the sharp blue eyes. “You’re never prepared for war, Captain.”
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In the end there were three stacks: the good, the bad and the questionable.
Will wondered who had chosen the candidates. They came
from all over the spectrum: the
Bowman stuck his head in at the end of his shift, took one look at Will, the
amount of coffee consumed, and smiled.
“Need help?” he asked.
“Nah. You go and catch some sleep. I’ll take this
stuff and just shred it,”
The Captain laughed. “That bad?”
“Worse.”
“When do you want to start the interviews?”
“End of the week,” Will sighed. He held up a
list. “I wanted to give that to you tomorrow. Those are the guys coming in
first.”
Bowman walked up to him and took the sheet of paper. “Mail me the list,” he
said after running an expert eye over the names and ranks. “I’ll set everything
up.”
“Thanks, Captain.”
“You’re welcome. And by the way, there’s a frigging huge Topkick sitting out in
the dark and waiting for you.”
“He came in an hour ago.”
“What?!”
The other man chuckled. “He had the clearance and secure
ID. Showed it to the guard at the main gate. Go and
get some sleep, Major. And tell your friend hello.”
With that he left the office.
Will was out ten minutes later and looking for Ironhide.
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He actually spent the night with Ironhide, who had rolled in the back door of
the former storage facility. They hadn’t talked much, just enjoyed being
together, and something inside Will had curled up with happiness. He smiled
even more as he thought of Ironhide’s attempts to fine-tune the holographic
image without drawing too much power.
Drying his hair, Will looked into the mirror, noting the pale runes on the left
side of his face, running over his cheek and temple. They drifted slowly,
lazily, and where the display had been rather bright yesterday, it was barely
visible today.
He sighed softly.
Things were still changing, though not as quickly and scarily as before. Then
again, his growing attraction to the black mech was scary sometimes. He had
never been interested in anything but soft curves made of flesh and blood. Ironhide
was neither human nor curvy or female. While Will could overlook the gender
issue now – he had had a lot of time to think about that throughout long nights
lying awake – there was still the fact that humans weren’t attracted to giant
metal beings on a regular basis.
Part of him was. A part he couldn’t blame on the Allspark.
“I wish we had the time to experiment with this,” he told his reflection. “Because it scares the hell out of me.”
Walking back into the main area, he found Ironhide sitting on the ground,
waiting.
“You need to leave?”
“Prime hasn’t given me anything to do, so I could stay,” was the careful reply.
“You have enough parking space in the back.”
Will nodded. He was actually kind of relieved Ironhide would be staying. Suddenly
a smile crossed his lips.
“I think I’ll introduce you to Captain Bowman. He’s been wanting
to get to know some of you guys.”
“Candidate?”
“Nope, my liaison. He’d make a good addition to the base if I could
persuade him to leave Dunn and Nellis behind.”
Ironhide tilted his head. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
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Second Lieutenant Andrew Burn knew that the day he had been called to appear
personally at Nellis Airforce base his career was about to change. His Captain
had talked to him about someone taking an interest in his skills. Not that he
was a particularly talented pilot; no more than the others. He knew how to fly
and he flew everything with wings or a rotor. He had shipped people into all
kinds of locations, had been in war zones, at the end of the world, in heat, in
cold and he had been under fire before. So he could handle himself in difficult
situations.
When his superior had told him to fly to Nellis and talk to a Captain Bowman,
he had done so. Meeting Bowman, he had been told he had been chosen as a
candidate for a special unit and would he be interested. What was Burn to say?
Special units had been his life already. He had never served a regular unit
anyway. There had always been secrecy and undercover missions.
Now it was the same.
So he was told he would talk to the liaison responsible, Major Will Lennox.
Burn had expected everything, but not a man in civilian clothes, with a clearly
military air around him, in an office that had been set up in an old storage
unit at Nellis. He also hadn’t expected the… things on his skin. Burn was trying
not to stare, but it was hard. Something was moving over the tanned skin, like
some weird symbols or strings of writing. Burn was no language buff, but the
things looked more like some kind of ancient glyphs than anything else.
“At ease, Lieutenant,”
Okay, he knew guys who would love to get something like this tattooed on their
bodies. Some of his buddies were tattooed and proud of every single needle
mark. Still… eerie.
“I know Captain Bowman already mentioned the classification of what we are
about to talk about, as well as what you see.”
Like you? Burn thought.
“But I want to remind you again. Nothing I’ll tell you now is a joke. Nothing
that will be shown to you is an elaborate set-up.”
“Yes, sir,” he answered automatically.
Burn looked at the other man, carefully running the possible answers through
his head. Finally he said, “If it was undoubtedly proven, yes, sir.”
“Good answer. What would you say this is?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“If I told you it was the result of an accident with an alien device that
should have killed me but didn’t, would you believe it?”
Now his head started to spin at least a little bit.
“Would this be proof enough?” the Major pressed on.
“It could be a skin condition, sir.”
“Sir.”
But then a different kind of questions started.
Yes, he had heard about
And it had been an alien attack.
Burn stared.
He knew he should be saying something, but all that came out was
”Sir?”
“But…”
“I was there, Lieutenant. I was there and I was in
Burn felt his head spinning.
“The unit currently working with those life forms, the Autobots,
needs manpower. I chose you out of many other pilots because you have a clean
record, you show you can adapt quickly to situations, and because you work well
with people of different nationalities. We don’t need xenophobes, Lieutenant.
We need people who we can trust, who are willing to take a chance, and who will
trust not only in their human commander and fellow soliders but will also
follow an order from our allies should need arise.”
“Ah, yes, sir,” he said unsteadily.
“Sir?”
“You’ve seen the runes on my skin. The ‘skin
condition’. You are wondering what the heck they are.”
“It’s none of my business, sir.”
“It will be because I live at the Autobot base, too. You will see a lot more of
me. I am human, Lieutenant, despite the looks. You’ll get the full briefing
from Captain Epps at the base, if you accept your new posting.”
Burn was still reeling, but he didn’t have to think about it twice. “Yes, sir!”
“Thank you, sir.”
Another nod. “Dismissed, Lieutenant.
See you around.”
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Another week later Lennox had already spoken to several more candidates and he
had to give it to the men: they were truly professionals. Their service records
were perfect and they didn’t keel over in a dead faint when they met Will. Some regarded him with curiosity, but they were professional enough
not to ask any questions then, nor did they discuss their interviews anywhere
on base.
Choosing Burn had been gut instinct, coupled with an impressive service record.
Others had been more difficult to pick out. So far only one other man had made
it into the second unit Epps would command. They were going international now
and aside from working with alien life forms, the unit would also interact with
different cultures of their own planet. Just having a Canadian and an American
on the same team could be problematic, but add a British or French or
Australian, and things could really escalate off duty. So selection was
carefully done.
By the end of the second week he had four men and three different nations. Epps
was going multi-cultural, Will mused to himself.
For the first time in a long time Will Lennox felt truly like he was needed
again, that he had a purpose, a job, and he enjoyed it immensely, even if
talking to several dozen men and women was repetitive, tiring and sometimes
exhausting.
Ironhide had stayed. It was actually a very good feeling to have him here,
especially since what happened inside his temporary home stayed in his
temporary home. Not that anything censured or x-rated occurred anyway.
Bowman had been only too excited to meet an Autobot and he
and Ironhide talked now and then. It was clear that the captain would love
nothing more than to work with the Autobots, but for now he was assigned to
Nellis and, he had confessed, he loved his work. Will wondered if they might
need a liaison and kept that in mind. Just in case.
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Being with
Will was different from being with someone of his own kind. Ironhide had been
aware of the differences between them from the get-go. It was hard not to be.
Will
But Will was still different. For all his shape-changing abilities, for all his
protoform looks, he wasn’t one of them.
And Ironhide was slowly becoming aware of how much he in turn had changed
because of it. It were small things, the way he looked at something, how he
handled himself, how he let his mind wander when it came to the human. As much
as they were different, they were a similar breed – warriors foremost.
The way he shared with Will was not like what he was used to either. He had
only had one more than casual relationship and that had been Chromia. She was
lost; he had no idea whether she was at all functional any more, and it hadn’t
been a spark bond. That had never happened to Ironhide and Will wasn’t his
bonded either. He was alien and new and still, now, familiar.
Nothing compared to this.
Not even Bumblebee’s semi-bond with Sam. Sometimes Ironhide envied his younger
friend his connection. It was so much easier, he had less
problems with inter-cultural clashes, and Sam just knew what his partner felt. Ironhide
had never been much of a talker when it came to himself. Neither was Will. What
they had shared already had been given freely, though it was hardly one’s life
story. Tiny fragments of the whole pieced together over time became a picture.
Looking at the human stretched out before him, Ironhide let his optics linger
on the lazily moving runes. Today they were mostly Cybertronian, with just a
spatter of cosmic code and a few singular glyphs of ancient Cybertronian. The
sun played over the tanned skin as it fell through the open skylight of the
temporary home on Nellis. It was Sunday afternoon and everything was quiet; no
interviews, no debriefings, no calls, no work at all.
Will looked relaxed, totally at ease, and it was such a contrast to the
normally tense and controlled behavior his human friend had adopted.
The past several weeks at Nellis had changed Will subtly. There was a new
purpose in his life, a challenge, and Ironhide found that the challenge and
purpose also came with an unexpected openness. Times spent together suddenly
had new additions; they had started to experiment more, and Ironhide himself
had been pestering Ratchet about the holo emitters until the medic had nearly
blown a gasket.
But Ironhide was happy for his friend.
Too much had been thrown at him. Too much was still happening.
Like their compatibility.
Ironhide knew Will enjoyed it. He himself did so, too. But humans had different
needs. Their interaction in that regard was drawn out, consisted of touching
before and after the actual act. Ironhide found it messy, to say the least,
with too much bodily fluids involved. He had downloaded and viewed all kinds of
material on the subject and he wondered how the species had been able to
procreate so successfully. The human body enjoyed the act, but the logistics
involved, the very danger to the body as it heated up and almost went on
overdrive, had Ironhide puzzled.
He couldn’t give this to Will and
Optimus had approached him about the unusual relationship. Ironhide had almost
laughed at how his commander had tried to be discreet and still find out the
truth about it all.
“We’re working something out between us,” he had only said.
“I see.” Blue optics gazed quizzically at him. “Does Will
understand what this entails?”
“More than I do, Prime.”
That had gotten him the equivalent of a quirked eyebrow.
“Working on it,” Ironhide had only repeated.
And they were. A life filled with compromises because of their differences.
Checking his energon count he calculated he had enough for his hardlight
hologram, and he transformed. It was easier to be on four wheels than two legs
when it came to depletion problems.
Will had moved, tensing a little in alarm, when he had heard the transformation
kick in. He almost knocked the holographic projection in the head when Ironhide
appeared.
“Good God!” he exclaimed. “Don’t do that!”
Ironhide smirked. He and Will had worked on the projection and it looked more
or less human now. There were still the unnaturally blue eyes, which the mech
found he actually preferred. He didn’t think of himself as human and having the
image look and feel so real… he wanted others to be reminded that he really
wasn’t. Not that many saw this. So far, only Will had and he didn’t complain
about the looks.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Solving another puzzle,” the human mumbled and lay back down again.
Ironhide was surprised, but then he chuckled. “Yes.”
“Do I have to move for that?”
“No.”
“Good. Puzzle and solve away.”
When Ironhide’s very solid hand touched the warm skin,
“You said…”
“I know what I said!”
Eyebrows rose in a ‘So?’
More grumbling, but Will let him continue to caress the warm skin, watch the
runes. Muscles relaxed and the harder lines in Will’s face smoothed out.
“Nice,” he got as a comment after a while.
They rarely had such close contact. Even when working on the hologram, spending
the nights at the base and in very close proximity to Will, he had stopped at
becoming intimate. Human intimacy was something he was only just learning
about.
Ironhide had no similar experience to compare this to. His metal skin wasn’t
receptive enough. Jazz’s micronet might give the silver Autobot an edge when it
came to experiencing human touch, but Ironhide had never seen any sense in it. The
hologram was even less responsive, but he had had Ratchet work out a few
problems and the medic had installed a new feature. It allowed Ironhide to
switch on an additional, sensory booster, which enabled the hardlight
projection to relay the sense of touch. Of course it drew more power, but if
Ironhide played it well, he could use it for a good length of time.
Experiments. Compromises.
They defined their lives.
A string of runes swirled around his fingers and Ironhide chased them over the
tanned skin, amazed at the responsiveness of both the human and the Allspark
part.
A sigh escaped Will.
Ironhide studied him. “Are you unhappy?”
Will’s eyes flew open and he twisted around again. “What?!”
“Your old life still weighs on you despite everything. I can’t change
it, can’t help you.”
Ironhide was doubtful of it, but the human looked so sincere. His hand now
rested on the warm skin of Will’s chest and he regarded the glyphs curiously.
“Humans get those moods, ‘hide. We’re just like that. It’s been a year since
the accident. My anniversary, so to speak. It’s a long
time, but not really long enough. Working through
this… sometimes I get these moods and then… you just gotta let me run with it. What
you do… it’s more than enough. Don’t work yourself in a knot, okay?”
Ironhide let a finger trace over a line of pulsing runes. They spelled ‘warrior’.
They were always there, on Will’s skin, moving about, never at the same place. They
reminded him more than anything that the human was more than a small organic. He
was a warrior. He was his companion. They were equals.
Will didn’t withdraw, didn’t move away, made no attempt to stop Ironhide’s
caress.
“We’re doing fine,” his human friend said softly.
Ironhide regarded him steadily. “Sometimes you want more.”
“So do you. We both need to compromise. We both need to grow into this. It’s
still changing and has too many variables, Ironhide. I keep learning about
myself, about you, and all of it takes time. And it’s me who has the more
regular freak-outs.”
“You’re entitled to.”
“After a while it should stop.”
“There’s no deadline, Will.”
That got Ironhide a chuckle.
“The job helps,” Will went on. “A
lot. I get to interact with other people, not just Sam and the unit. I
get out, even if it’s just a few hundred miles around the corner.”
“You enjoy it.”
“Yeah.”
“You haven’t okayed any of them yet, though.”
“It’s nothing to take lightly, joining a special unit. And Epps has a very
special unit. You can’t just transfer out of it after a few trial months. This
is top secret stuff until your presence might one day be known to all of
mankind. It’s a small step that the team is becoming more international
already.”
And with the small steps came the larger steps in their relationship.
“Would you feel more at ease if the hologram was female?”
Okay, whenever he thought he had Ironhide pegged, he got thrown for a loop once
more.
“What? No!”
“Your society seems to have trouble with two individuals of the same gender
being closer, being compatible.”
“Ironhide…!”
“By your definition, we are male.”
“Are you going into gender issues now?!”
“The definition of gender is ‘type’, ‘sort’ or ‘kind’. We are of a different
kind, but your people keep referring to gender as something sexual,” Ironhide
told him.
Will sighed. “We keep going back to the sex.”
“Your language is difficult to understand.”
“You downloaded more than just English,”
“And each language has its obstacles. If it bothers you, I can change my
set-up.”
“Good gawd!” Will groaned. “You sound like you’re nothing but a machine where I
flip a switch and it changes programs!”
Ironhide regarded him seriously. “You keep many secrets already. Being seen
with a male image of myself, touching you…”
“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” Will exploded.
Why was it they always ended up with him losing his temper over something
menial?
“This isn’t… Listen, our relationship… is different from anything that could
happen here on Earth, Ironhide. Or on Cybertron. That
you’re male by our definition… hell, I don’t care!”
“You were never attracted to your own gender.”
“How would you know?” he challenged.
The inhuman blue eyes just looked back at him, no holographic muscle moving.
“Okay, so I wasn’t, but this… us…” Will failed at the
words. “For me there’s no gender involved. Hell, the emotions involved are
nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I’m not confusing you with a woman or a
man or even a human being, ‘hide. I wouldn’t do this if I had those issues.
Believe me, I’d never have started anything of the like if it grossed me out or
made me sick or something.”
Will knew he had crossed boundaries with their relationship. Not just one or
two; many.
“I’m not sick of your company either,” was the careful reply. “Not for selfish
reasons either.”
Will smirked. “Long time no sharing?” he teased.
Ironhide glowered at him. He felt an alarm tingle through him, a first one. He
had another twenty minutes left if he played it close.
“Ironhide? Don’t waste energon.”
He smiled. “So you are technopathic?”
“No, I can hear the alarm klaxons.”
The mech frowned. Will laughed.
“There was a flicker in your eyes. Very tell-tale. Switch
it off. I’m done sunbathing.”
Ironhide transformed as he let the image disappear. His friend pulled on his
t-shirt and stretched. It was easy to see how relaxed Will was and the runes
gave it to him in writing, so to speak.
Theirs was one of the strangest relationships, even compared to Bumblebee and
Sam, who had less problems relating to each other on a more intimate basis. But
it was working out.
Will smirked a little.
And the day the soldiers got wind of that little tidbit, information they
weren’t privy to and wouldn’t find out about unless
For some reason, Will couldn’t care less. His relationship with Ironhide was a
private matter and he wouldn’t reveal it to anyone he didn’t trust implicitly. Nor
would Ironhide tell anyone about something he thought was only between them,
least of all their human allies.
He sent a tingle over Ironhide’s skin and the blue optics narrowed, growing
brighter, as they locked onto the innocent human ones.
“You are developing new abilities,” the mech remarked.
“Comes in handy,” was the casual reply.
“What for?”
“When I don’t want to spell it out.”
Now the light was even brighter. Will smirked, then
let the protoform take the place of his human appearance.
“We gotta work on that foreplay,” he only said as sockets connected and energy
flowed between the two different beings.
“I’m a fast learner,” Ironhide replied, tightening his hold, pulling him
closer.
The rest was drowned in the pulse of pure energy that connected a spark with
hybrid cells. Runes flared brightly and Will knew this was too brief, way too
brief, but a relief nevertheless. Air hissed out of his lungs, or whatever
doubled as lungs in this form, and he felt a massive arm around his waist,
holding him up. His nerve-endings tingled and Will
knew his optics glowed brightly with the overload of sensation and energy.
“Wow,” he only whispered roughly.
“Was it good for you, too?” Ironhide teased, but the unsteady edge told
“Jazz is a bad influence on you,” the human hybrid replied. “You watch too many soaps.”
Ironhide removed his fingers from the interface sockets, running a hand over
the smooth protoform metal.
“I keep learning interesting things.”
“From soaps?!”
The grin said it all. Will felt like slapping him.
“I think we should work off the energy,” he muttered.
He easily reverted back to his human form, feeling less shaky after a sharing
than in his protoform appearance, and Ironhide transformed. He climbed into the
cab, noting the lazily drifting runes, barely visible under his skin.
Satisfied, he mused.
Ironhide’s engine purred with the same satisfaction as they left the storage
facility and headed toward the main gate. It was a nice day for a drive and Will felt it would also be a great day for a swim. There
were bodies of water not too far away and he didn’t have to be back until
Monday.
Yeah, that sounded good.
Really, really good.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
Four months later the second unit stood. Banachek gave his approval, though
that was only a pro-forma signature, and mentioned that he wanted to keep Will
as a liaison to Nellis.
“So, what do you say, Major?” Banachek asked calmly.
“I’m no longer in the service,” Will replied
automatically.
That got him a brief smile and raised eye-brows.
“Okay, I accept,”
“Good. Arrangements have been made. You still only report to Optimus Prime and myself, to clear that up. Captain Epps also requested that
you take over the unit’s training whenever he is unavailable. I’ve heard it has
happened already and it known as ‘confrontational training’?”
Will nodded.
“Keep at it. These men might one day be confronted with another Decepticon
attack. I don’t want them shooting at friendlies or to freeze up because of the
alienness of the enemy.”
“Neither do I,”
Banachek gave him a nod, then took his briefcase and left. Will knew the man
had a meeting with Prime about something.
He found his friend in the weapons shop where the mech was tinkering with
something or other.
“Hey. Whatcha doin’?”
Ironhide looked down at him, holding one huge cannon in his hand. “Weapons testing.”
“Cool. Going to the range?”
“Later.”
“Call me?”
“Will do.”