literature

Making Up For Lost Time II: Message Delivery

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Literature Text

Several vorns ago . . .

Smokescreen sat in one of the outdoor tables near his next class. One data-pad was on the table as the other was in his lap. The mech had one end of his stylus stuck on his mouth.

He glared at the historical information. As much as he liked history of the Thirteen Primes . . .

Frustrated, the mostly white mech rubbed his optics. His denta gritted against the stylus.

"Excuse me?"

Smokescreen looked up.

Oh, it was New Guy. The youngling was a transfer from one of the smaller academies just outside the city.

He was very late coming into the first day of the year. The poor transfer student was a hyperventilating mess as he burst through the door. His action startled the professor and the class of forty.

Smokescreen looked him up and down. The yellow and black mech had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Three data-pads were in his right servo.

He seemed nice enough.

"Yeah?" Smokescreen replied nonchalantly. He took out the writing utensil in his mouth and put it back into his note pad.

"Um, do you know where Building C is?" the youngling asked. He shuffled his pedes sheepishly.

"I thought they have a welcoming committee for new bots," Smokescreen said. He settled his servos atop his thighs.

"Yeah, but they kinda ditched me," the yellow and black mech sighed. His wings drooped a bit. Smokescreen held out his servo and the transfer student gave him the schedule.

"Well, you're in luck," Smokescreen flashed the newcomer a grin. He handed back the schedule to him.

"That's close to my next class. I need one thing though."

The transfer student raised an optic ridge. His wings stiffened a bit. The youngling turned to go, but was stopped by a servo that clamped upon his forearm.

"Your name, numb-node. I can't keep calling you New Guy," Smokescreen laughed. The yellow and black mech sputtered and shrugged off Smokescreen's appendage

"I'm Bumblebee," he answered. There was no animosity in his tone, much to Smokescreen's relief.

"Smokescreen." They shook each other's servo as the warning bell rang.

"C'mon kid, I'll show you where it is." Smokescreen picked up his data pads and led the way.

Bumblebee followed suit.


Present day . . .

"Sire, did you eat something bad? Your face looks funny."

Smokescreen looked down to see Warper scrutinizing him.

The mech laughed. "Oh, no, no. I'm fine."

He held up the data-forms. "I just need to finish these before we can go home."

"Is that why we're in this dinky room?"

Smokescreen smiled at Warper as she walked over to him and climbed into his lap. "I'm getting bored."

Smokescreen wrapped his arms around the sparkling. "I thought the cards kept you occupied?"

"Well yeah, but I'm getting tired of flipping and shuffling them. I'm out of questions to ask too." Warper pouted, reminiscent of her Sire.

Smokescreen couldn't help laughing. When Warper shot him a look, he did his best to stop. His armor rattled, and he failed to contain his laughter.

Warper sighed exaggeratedly and face-palmed.

There was a knock on the door.

Warper leaped out of her Creator's lap. She peeked through the blinds that covered the glass panes of the door.

"It's Mister Bumblebee!"

Smokescreen looked at Warper as she opened the door. He raised an optic ridge as he saw the Enforcer carrying in a tray with energon cubes.

The femling squealed in delight. There was a bowl of sweets next to the energon.

"With goodies! Yay!" She bounced up and down.

"Whoa kiddo!" Smokescreen placed a restraining arm around her shoulders as she was about to tackle the Enforcer. "Don't! You'll knock everything over and you will have to clean it up."

"Aw . . ." Warper stopped herself, but her optics never left the energon sweets.

"Courtesy of Cliffjumper," Bumblebee explained as he set down the tray. He glanced at Warper, who squirmed in Smokescreen's arms. "You know, the Enforcer that rescued you?"

"Oh yeeeeah!" Warper nodded. "Big, red mech? Horns on his helm?" Warper used her fingers to mimic the horns on the aforementioned mech.

"That's him," Bumblebee smiled.

Smokescreen laughed and patted his sparkling's back. The little one beamed at her Sire.

"Hey, Smokescreen," Bumblebee stated, glancing at the data-pad. "Are you done with that yet? It's been nearly two mega-cycles since you got here."

The taller mech exhaled, frustrated. He covered his face-plates with his servo. "I'm on the last section of the behemoth. Tell your sergeant I'll be done in . . . oh, ten to twelve cycles, tops."

"I'll pass it along," Bumblebee nodded. He got up to go.

"Wait! Mister Bee!" the Cybertronian turned around in time for Warper to wrap her arms around his midriff. Bumblebee smiled as he knelt down to return the hug.

"Thanks for . . . putting up with me," Warper said. She stepped back and rubbed her upper arm, sheepish.

"You were no trouble at all," Bumblebee responded. The Enforcer got to his pedes and patted her helm.

"Be a good little femme. You'll be out of here soon enough."

O*O*O

Smokescreen gave the appropriate data-forms back to the secretary.

He glanced about and noticed the precinct was full of busy Enforcers. Some ran off to get to their cases. Others were gathered around certain desks as a comrade spoke about the plan for that day.

The mech soon spotted Bumblebee. The black and yellow Enforcer was toward the back of the precinct. Cliffjumper was beside him; the red horned mech said something that made the shorter Enforcer smack him in the arm.

A laugh exploded from the sergeant as Bumblebee shook his helm. The young mech waved in farewell to Cliffjumper as he went into a different direction.

Smokescreen called out to the secretary before she went away. When the femme came back he took out a thin data-pad and pointed to it.

The secretary was not amused as the mech explained what he wanted her to do for him. When she shook her helm, the mech sighed. His door-wings drooped.

A small purple limb shot up from beside Smokescreen. Warper waved it vigorously in front of her.

The clerk looked down at the sparkling. Warper gestured her to come closer. Humoring the young one, she came around the desk and squatted in front of the little one.

Warper got close to the worker. The femling cupped her servo around her mouth as she whispered to the femme. Once Warper was done she stepped back and made her optics really big.

The adult frame mouthed 'oh' and got up to her full height. She looked to Smokescreen and chuckled.

The mech's smile was the brightest in the room as she took the additional data-pad.


Before the midnight cycle . . .

A room is dimly lit in the third floor of an apartment complex. The berth was placed perpendicular to the wall. To the left of it was a simple nightstand; the right had a desk that was covered in case files. Behind those data-pads were holograms and holo-scans of his friends and family.

In one of the frames, a part of it was reduced to pixels because of a fist-sized crack. The rest revealed the Enforcer during his sparkling years. His Carrier held Bumblebee in her arms. To the femme's right stood Ratchet. The medical examiner's servo was upon his daughter's shoulder. The mech had a reserved smile.

On the floor of his room, Bumblebee sat with a data-pad in his servos. Although slim, it was heavy with memories.

The young mech looked through it. Bumblebee flipped through the pages of his year book. He paused several moments when he came upon a certain image.

Bumblebee smiled as he tapped the screen twice, enlarging the page. Projected from the data-pad showed Smokescreen hugging the daylights out of his best friend.

Then, Smokescreen was mainly white with red and blue accents. The mech's arms were wrapped around the youngling version of Bumblebee. The holo-scan was taken right when Smokescreen swung Bumblebee around in a circle.

It right after the graduation ceremony. "We did it! I can't believe it! WE DID IT!" Smokescreen had hollered gleefully.

Bumblebee smiled at the inserted file. Good ole' Carrier took the best shots . . .

The Enforcer flipped to the next page. There were scores of signatures from his classmates, but he lingered on one. Bumblebee enlarged the signature that he had circled with a red stylus.

"You better do good out there. Hey, maybe we can pick up that rain check we had before finals? What do you say?" Underneath the text continued Smokescreen's cheerful scrawl. The flamboyant mech had penned his own comm-code to remain in contact.

A sigh escaped Bumblebee.

The last time they were face to face, they had a major argument. Over time, they lost contact because of it. Bumblebee tried to call the mech one day. To his shock, the comm-link wasn't listed anymore.

Today, he had seen Smokescreen. Strangely, the mech didn't have the Elite Guard insignia that was etched into his shoulder anymore.

And Warper. How did she happen?

Bumblebee was taken out if his thoughts as his door was opened.

"Hi Doc," Bumblebee greeted the his grand-sire.

WHAP!

Bumblebee looked down to the pile of data-pads that was unceremoniously placed in front of him.

"My paperwork?"

"Yes . . . and something from a certain mech," Ratchet huffed. The red and white shook his helm as Bumblebee tore through the small stack.

"I can't believe you!"

"What?" Bumblebee mumbled. He found the thin data-letter and opened it up.

"I thought you said you were over him!" Ratchet pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor as Bumblebee read the message. "After the graduation ceremony, he admitted that he was seeing some femme-are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I am," Bumblebee set down the data-pad. "But-"

"But nothing!" Ratchet exclaimed. He exhaled and looked at the much younger mech.

"Bumblebee, even if he does return those feelings all those years ago . . . you are not allowed to be courting a civilian that is involved in a case."

"Actually, I was just put onto sparkling-sitting duty," Bumblebee retorted. "I wasn't involved in interrogation, the arrest of the perpetrator, or calling the Sire of the victim. I was out because of a virus, and the bot involved in it happens to be Smokescreen."

He was startled to see Ratchet slack-jawed.

"Um, Ratchet . . .?"

"Well, you certainly have your Carrier's tenacity . . ." The medical examiner shook his helm. He went out of the room.

Bumblebee stared out into the hall for a while. Roughly two cycles later, Ratchet passed by his door. In his servo he grasped a cube of energon.

"Where are you going?" Bumblebee questioned.

"I'm going to recharge before I decide to whack your helm for your stupidity," Ratchet mumbled as he paused in front of the entrance. His expression shifted into consideration.

"Actually, I might do that in the morning."

Bumblebee snickered.

"Night Ratchet," he replied quietly.

"Get to recharge yourself youngling," the red and white grumbled. The M.E. hadn't made ten steps to his room when Bumblebee plopped down into his berth. and cycled down for the night.


A/N: W00T! Lol, Warper is a cute little wingman, isn't she? X3

I am so happy I got this down. It certainly got the stress out of me. In one of my classes next week, we're doing mock interviews. I am stressing over it because I am not so sure if my resume is the best as it could be. We're still practicing in class, so I'm gonna jump on that as soon as I get to that.

Read and review! :D

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LoveDoc2's avatar

Aw, cutest wingman ever indeed! :love: