After Atlantis, Part 18 (1/2)

[anon_decepticon]

Title: After Atlantis, Part 18 (1/2)
Author: anon_decepticon
Rating: M
Pairing or Character(s): Wheeljack, Trailbreaker, Hound, Mirage, and a human OC.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. Part 1 references scenes from the G1 Season 2 episode “Atlantis, Arise!” Part 4 references scenes from the next episode, “Day of the Machines.” Parts 5 and 6 reference scenes and quote some dialogue from “Enter the Nightbird.” Part 9 references scenes from “Dinobot Island, Parts 1 & 2”. Part 11 references scenes from “The Master Builder” and “Auto Berserk.” Part 12 references scenes from “Microbots,” (as does Part 13, briefly) and gives minor nods to “Heavy Metal War” and “Prime Target.” Part 14 references scenes from the two-part episode “Megatron’s Master Plan,” and gives a teeny nod to “The Ultimate Doom.” Parts 16 and 17 reference scenes and quote dialogue from the two-part G1 cartoon episode “Desertion of the Dinobots.” Part 18 contains oblique references to the G1 cartoon episodes “S.O.S. Dinobots,” “Traitor,” “The Ultimate Doom” (part one) and “City of Steel” (namely the bits featuring Autobots on water skis.) These portions of the fic are not mine.
Warning(s): PTSD angst, references to rape, references to sex, mild sexual humor.
Summary: Raped by Starscream, Wheeljack struggles to cope.
Author's Note: If you've gotten this far, you already know the backstory. Original Kink Meme prompt. Previous installments: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17. Also available on FFN. Happy holidays, everyone! Here’s your (slightly belated) Xmas present – I’d have had it up sooner, but family gatherings + holiday travel = no internets. If it’s any consolation, the damn thing is so big I had to split it into two posts! Extra special thanks to kookaburra1701 for suggesting Bonneville Fish Hatchery as Hound’s idea of a fun place to take a date, and for her willingness to fact-check my descriptions and assist in the background research by hunting down useful links for me to read. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter; I hope everyone enjoys it – especially fans of Hound/Mirage! Aren’t they cute?




Someone was touching him.

The realization crept slowly though Wheeljack’s slumbering CPU, rising ponderously to the surface of his consciousness as his processor registered the external stimuli being recorded by his primary sensor grid: A hand sliding over his chestplate. Fingers tracing the edge of his windshield. A presence looming over him.

In the span of an astrosecond he went from offline and insensate to hyper-alert, every sensor and circuit shrieking in strident warning. He jerked violently, a startled shout bursting from his vocalizer as his arms flailed outward defensively, striving to ward off the attack he sensed was imminent.

He heard the resounding clash of metal against metal as he struck something solid and unyielding, felt the impact vibrating up the length of his arm and heard the low, startled grunt that accompanied it – he’d scored a hit. He swung again immediately, hoping to deny his assailant any opportunity to rally, but his CPU was still half-engaged in its recharge cycle, his systems were slow to respond. His opponent was quicker, catching hold of his hands and throwing his full weight against him, pinning him bodily.

He began to struggle instinctively, bucking and twisting in an effort to dislodge his attacker. His vents were cycling rapidly, his intakes heaving as he endeavored to escape. Not again. he thought desperately, Not again! He wasn’t immobilized this time; he could stop it, he could fight –

“Wheeljack, stop! It’s me, ‘Breaker!”

His optics snapped online, his struggles ceasing abruptly as the familiar voice penetrated his panicked CPU, dragging him out of his fear-soaked daze and into full consciousness. The first sight that greeted them was Trailbreaker’s wide, frightened optics, staring down at him in alarm.

Wheeljack’s spark contracted as comprehension came crashing down on him, bringing with it the crushing realization of where he was and what he had done. Trailbreaker had obviously awakened first, found him still offline, and sought to rouse him with gentle touches, no doubt hoping to start the morning off with a pleasant interface.

Instead of welcoming his advances, Wheeljack had responded as if he were under attack.

He hadn’t experienced any sensor echoes, but he had exposed himself upon awakening just as badly as if he had – perhaps more so. Trailbreaker was sure to demand an explanation for his inexplicable behavior, but Wheeljack had none to give – at least, none he was willing to share. But he had to say something, provide some sort of plausible excuse –

“Are you all right?” Trailbreaker asked worriedly.

“Are you?” he replied, hoping to divert him. There were several fresh scuffs on Trailbreaker’s chassis, marks he hadn’t had the night before – evidence of Wheeljack’s rude awakening.

Trailbreaker glanced down at himself, following his gaze. “Those’ll buff out,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “I’m more worried about you,” he said, meeting his optics again with a look of concern. “What happened?”

“I…I guess you startled me,” he said.

“No kidding,” Trailbreaker replied wryly. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m fine. Sorry for – you know, hitting you. I guess I, uh…forgot where I was.”

Trailbreaker frowned faintly, regarding him with a blend of worry and suspicion. “Where did you think you were?” he asked.

“Nowhere specific,” he replied hastily, his spark clenching in anxiety. He counted to five, struggling for calm. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I’m used to recharging alone.”

“You acted like you thought I was attacking you,” Trailbreaker said reproachfully.

“Well, we’re – we’re at war, right?” he said. “You never know when the ‘Cons might show up.”

“You thought I was a Decepticon?” Trailbreaker asked, sounding both hurt and dubious.

One very specific Decepticon, he thought darkly. “I wasn’t fully online,” he said, doing his best to sound matter-of-fact and casual, as if his reaction had been perfectly reasonable. “I felt something touching me, and I’m used to recharging alone, so I assumed…”

The look of doubt on Trailbreaker’s faceplate faded, allowing hurt to step to the fore. “Oh,” he said. “I see.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said, and he truly meant it. “I just forgot, that’s all. I like recharging with you, honest. I’m just not used to it yet.”

“Sorry for scaring you,” Trailbreaker replied. “I’ll be sure to remember that next time.” He chuckled. “Note to self,” he said in a joking tone, “Wheeljack doesn’t like surprises.”

“…I like some surprises,” he muttered grudgingly.

“Yeah?” Trailbreaker retorted, grinning. “How about this one?” he asked playfully, shifting against him and giving Wheeljack’s captive hands a gentle squeeze, making his intakes hitch at the sudden rush of sensation.

“…that was okay,” he said huskily after taking a moment to recover.

His words elicited another chuckle. Looking amused, Trailbreaker did it again, drawing a soft moan from his vocalizer.

He’d started to heat up a little – no, make that a lot. It was sort of embarrassing, really – the charge that had built up in his circuits in response to the terror that had briefly suffused them had morphed all too readily into arousal; eliciting a response entirely disproportionate to the minor stimulation he had received. He was trapped beneath Trailbreaker’s greater bulk, his hands pinned to the berth above his helm, Trailbreaker’s faceplate scant inches from his own, an awkward position that should have left him feeling utterly ridiculous, but instead he was intensely, undeniably revved.

He squirmed a little, flexing his wrists to test Trailbreaker’s grip. It seemed solid. “You gonna let me go?” he whispered, his vocalizer crackling with static.

Trailbreaker made a show of considering it. “Hmmm, I dunno…” he said with mock thoughtfulness, “I kind of like you right where I have you.” He grinned teasingly. “Judging from how hot you’re getting, I’m guessing you don’t really mind.”

“I’m not that hot,” he fibbed. His internal cooling fans chose that moment to switch on, blatantly contradicting his claim.

Trailbreaker laughed out loud. “Note to self:” he said again, “Surprise Wheeljack more often.”

“…autonomic response…perfectly normal…” he grumbled sheepishly.

“I like it,” Trailbreaker said, giving a playful wiggle that sent little shocks of pleasure through Wheeljack’s overexcited sensor nodes, “You getting all heated up for me.”

“You gonna do something about it?” he asked huskily.

“Yeah,” Trailbreaker replied in a voice even deeper than usual, his optics flaring brightly. He leaned in close, his lip components brushing against Wheeljack’s vocal indicator as he whispered into his audial, “I’m gonna overload you so hard your circuits fry.”

The sheer promise in his tone made Wheeljack’s core temperature spike, made him groan with pure, unabashed need. His engine gave an involuntary rev, his hands tightening around Trailbreaker’s, interlacing their fingers.

Trailbreaker chuckled, scraping his lip components across Wheeljack’s neck cables as he shifted against him, grinding their plating and revving his engine in return.

Wheeljack couldn’t recall ever being so wound up by a mere handful of touches, not even during his first interface, when every sensation had seemed new and overwhelming. Trailbreaker couldn’t possibly be anywhere near as close to overload as he was, but there was nothing Wheeljack could do about it. Even if he’d had the use of his hands, their inherent sensitivity would cause any attempt to stimulate Trailbreaker with them to backfire, sending him into overload all the sooner. If he employed his energy field, Trailbreaker would undoubtedly do the same, with similar results.

He had to do something, and quickly, or risk leaving his partner unsatisfied. The heat between them was steadily increasing, and the way Trailbreaker was moving against him was setting off a rising cascade of pleasure as sensor nodes throughout Wheeljack’s frame reported back every shift and grind –

“No fields,” he whispered urgently, the static in his vocalizer nearly drowning out the words, “I won’t last.”

Trailbreaker paused in his movements. “You’re that close?” he rumbled, his optics flashing.

Wheeljack nodded, panting through his intakes in a futile attempt to keep his skyrocketing core temperature in check. If Trailbreaker held back, he might be able to hold off his overload a little longer, long enough to –

Trailbreaker grinned wickedly. “Perfect,” he said, extending his energy field.

Wheeljack’s world went white.

**

He onlined his optics a few kliks later to find Trailbreaker grinning down at him.

“Welcome back,” Trailbreaker said, sounding just a tiny bit smug.

“What…what happened?”

“I offlined you again,” Trailbreaker said proudly. “Told you I’d fry your circuits.”

He stared at him in dismay. “But you didn’t –”

“Oh, I did,” Trailbreaker replied emphatically. “And how! That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“But I didn’t –”

“You did,” Trailbreaker said, grinning. “When you went off, your field went crazy. Your vocalizer fritzed. It was amazing.”

Dubiously, he accessed his memory files to verify Trailbreaker’s claim. He dimly recalled Trailbreaker’s energy field enveloping him, setting his circuitry aflame, triggering an explosion of ecstasy, and then –

A slow shudder ran through him. Trailbreaker had been telling the truth.

Trailbreaker laughed at his reaction. “You believe me now?” he snickered.

“Yeah,” he said. “Wow. I never overloaded like that before.”

Trailbreaker grinned, his optics lighting with desire. “Keep talking like that and you will again – soon.”

The thought of testing that promise was more than a little tempting, but then Wheeljack remembered something else. “What about Hound and Mirage?” he asked. “Aren’t we supposed to be meeting them?”

“I think we’ve got time,” Trailbreaker said. “If I know Hound, they’re doing the same thing right now.”

“What about your energy levels?” he asked.

“Back to optimal,” Trailbreaker replied with a grin. “I won’t tell Ratchet if you don’t.”

“Deal,” he said.

“What about you?” Trailbreaker asked. “You feeling okay?”

“Fine,” he said. “Pretty good, in fact.”

Trailbreaker’s grin widened, “You wanna go again?”

He was about to activate his vocalizer to respond when Trailbreaker suddenly stiffened. “Aw, scrap,” he said.

“What?”

“It’s Hound,” Trailbreaker said resignedly, levering off of him. “He just pinged me.”

Wheeljack sat up as Trailbreaker rose from the berth and made his way to the door. He’d barely gone two strides when someone – Hound, presumably, began knocking loudly. Wheeljack got hastily to his feet, not wanting to be discovered lounging in the berth. He glanced down at himself nervously, praying to Primus he didn’t look too…debauched.

“All right, I’m coming, sheesh, give me an astrosecond,” Trailbreaker muttered, activating the panel that controlled the door’s mechanism.

The door slid open, catching Hound in mid-knock. He smiled broadly at the sight of his friend. “Hey, ‘Breaker,” he said cheekily, his optics bright with mischief. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything!”

Mirage, who was standing just behind him, gave him a gentle swat. “Behave,” he chided mildly.

“Hi, Mirage,” Trailbreaker greeted him gratefully. “Better listen to him, Hound,” he added, smirking at his friend. “Wouldn’t wanna torque him off; otherwise it’ll be self-service city for you.”

“Aw, Mirage wouldn’t do that to me, would ya, ‘Raj?” Hound said confidently, slipping an arm around his lover’s waist components.

“I might,” Mirage replied dryly. Ignoring Hound’s squeak of protest, he smiled graciously at Trailbreaker. “Good morning, Trailbreaker, Wheeljack,” he said with a cordial nod to each, “Good to see you again.”

“You too, Mirage,” Wheeljack replied. “Morning, Hound.”

“Hey, Wheeljack,” Hound greeted him, evidently having recovered from his brief bout of indignation. “You two ready to go?” he asked. “I thought we’d stop in the common room for some energon before we set out.”

“Sounds good to me,” Trailbreaker replied.

“I’m game,” Wheeljack agreed.

**

The morning rush was over, making finding a table in the common room large enough to seat the four of them a relatively simple task. A few ‘Bots were present, trickling in and out sporadically, but the majority of the tables stood empty, and the line at the energon dispenser was mercifully short.

Once they were all settled with cubes in hand, Hound spoke up. “Bet you two are wondering where we’re going today – I’ve got it all planned out,” he said proudly.

“The fish hatchery, right?” Trailbreaker replied blithely, taking a sip of energon from his cube.

Hound wilted. “You knew? Who told you?”

Trailbreaker looked at Wheeljack; Wheeljack looked at Mirage.

Hound turned to look at his lover with a wounded expression. “You told them?”

“I couldn’t help it,” Mirage replied coyly, hiding a smile. “I was so excited about it, it just slipped out. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Hound said, smiling fondly at him. “I forgive you.”

“Probably just as well,” Trailbreaker added with a chuckle, casting a playful glance in Wheeljack’s direction. “Wheeljack’s not a big fan of surprises.”

“Really? Why not?” Hound asked, looking at him curiously. Mirage seemed intrigued, too.

“…I like them sometimes,” he muttered sheepishly. Trailbreaker chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

“So, what do you think?” Hound asked eagerly, turning back to their original topic. “I have everything all set up – I contacted the humans that work at the hatchery, and one of them promised to give us private tour! He said this was the best time of year to go; the salmon are spawning –”

“We get to see that?” Trailbreaker interrupted, sounding almost as excited as Hound.

Hound nodded enthusiastically, “And the sturgeon, and the trout, and the fingerlings – those’re baby fish,” he added in an aside to Mirage and Wheeljack, “We’ll get to feed them, maybe even help tag them!”

“Wow,” Trailbreaker said, impressed. “Way to go, Hound!”

“Aw, it was easy,” Hound replied, preening under the praise. “All I did was ask ‘em nice –”

“Pardon me,” a cultured voice broke in, “but may I intrude on you for a moment?”

As one, the four Autobots looked up to find Perceptor standing next to their table. “Good morning,” the scientist said politely, nodding to each in turn. His gaze skittered past Mirage, finally settling on Hound. “I couldn’t help overhearing,” he began, faltered, shook his helm and tried again, “That is, I heard you talking about going to a fish hatchery? Is that correct?”

“That’s right,” Hound said brightly. “Bonneville Fish Hatchery; the four of us are going there today.”

“I wish I’d known; I would have liked to join you,” Perceptor replied. “Regrettably, I cannot today, I’m assigned to duty this morning – but I wonder if I might trouble you with a small request?”

“Sure, Perceptor,” Hound said agreeably, “What can we do for you?”

“I would like very much to go to the hatchery myself when my schedule permits,” Perceptor said. “Do you think you could ask your human contact there if they would be amenable to a future visit? And perhaps…take a few image captures for me?”

“Absolutely,” Hound replied with a smile. “I’m sure to be taking lots anyway, I don’t mind making copies for you. I’ll even share my data files with you when we get back.”

Perceptor beamed, clearly delighted. “Thank you very much; I sincerely appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Hound replied, a faint glint of mischief lurking in his optics. “I’ll bring them by first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Ah…excellent,” Perceptor said, looking mildly discomfited. “Thank you again. I hope you all enjoy your, ah, outing.”

Wheeljack watched with bemusement as the scientist departed. He understood why Perceptor would be interested, but he was puzzled by the scientist’s demeanor. He’d never known Perceptor to be embarrassed about making a request that would expand his knowledge of Earth – why did he seem so uncomfortable now?

Hound chuckled quietly. “Poor Perceptor,” he said, “He must hate us.”

Trailbreaker barked a laugh; Mirage looked vaguely sheepish. Wheeljack was just confused.

“Us?” he asked. “Why? What’d we do?”

“Not you, us,” Hound said, tilting his helm toward Mirage. He grinned teasingly, “Did you see that, ‘Raj? Couldn’t even look you in the optic. That’s what you get for makin’ so much noise.”

“Perceptor’s quarters are right next door to Hound’s,” Trailbreaker explained sotto voce, leaning in close to murmur into Wheeljack’s audial.

“Oh,” he said, catching on.

Hound laughed at his expression, which probably looked a lot like Perceptor’s had.

“I don’t think I’m the one he heard this time, Hound,” Mirage informed him primly. “The next time you get the urge to howl like your namesake, you should at least warn me.”

Hound gave an indignant squawk; Trailbreaker laughed out loud. “I know that sound!” he crowed. “He’s right Hound; you get loud when you’re enjoying yourself.”

“You’re one to talk, ‘Breaker,” Hound retorted, turning to Wheeljack, “You wanna hear loud? Try grabbing his communications array right when he overloads – he’ll blow out your audials!”

Wheeljack’s vocal indicators flashed wordlessly. Trailbreaker sputtered, his vocalizer producing an outraged buzzing noise, “That happened one time –!” he protested.

“All right, that’s enough, now,” Mirage said, raising his hands in a placating gesture, “Let’s just agree that we’re all loud, and leave it at that.”

“Fair enough,” Hound agreed. “We all get pretty noisy under the right circumstances.”

“Not everyone is loud,” Trailbreaker argued. “Wheeljack isn’t.”

Wheeljack’s vocal indicators flickered again as three pairs of optics abruptly focused on him.

“Wow, really?” Hound asked, his optics bright with curiosity. “Not even when you –” he broke off abruptly with a soft grunt, having been subjected to a none-too-gentle nudge from Mirage.

“I knew a mech in the Towers who was like that,” Mirage said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just elbowed his lover, “It’s not that unusual.” He nodded to Wheeljack, “Please forgive my assumption; I’d forgotten some mechs aren’t quite so…vocal. I meant no offense.”

“None taken,” he replied with an awkward shrug.

“We should probably get going,” Trailbreaker suggested nervously. “We don’t want to be late.”

“I agree,” Mirage said. Hound looked like he wanted to add something, but Mirage quelled him with a warning look.

They got to their feet, Trailbreaker and Hound dispersing their empty cubes. Wheeljack had only consumed half of his; he subspaced the rest for later. Mirage did the same.

They’d started towards the exit when Mirage suddenly paused. “I need to stop in my quarters for a klik,” he announced. “I’ll meet you at the entrance.”

“All right, ‘Raj,” Hound replied with a knowing grin. “We’ll see you there.”

As Mirage left them, Wheeljack abruptly recalled the spy’s earlier suggestion about the water skis. They’d been one of his more successful inventions; at Prime’s request he’d outfitted every ‘Bot on the Ark with them, but it had been a while since they’d had any call to use them. It’d probably be a good idea to bring his tools along, just in case the upgrades malfunctioned. “I need to stop in my lab,” he said. “I’ll catch up with you, too.”

Trailbreaker and Hound turned to look at him in surprise, even though Mirage had just made a similar statement. Neither offered any objection. Hound looked just a tiny bit gleeful, casting a quick glance back and forth between them; Trailbreaker looked uneasy. He stepped in a bit closer, murmuring in a hasty undertone, “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he said. “I just want to grab some of my tools, just in case.”

“I’m sorry about before,” Trailbreaker said in the same hushed tone. “I didn’t mean to say that; my vocalizer got ahead of my processor.”

“It’s okay,” he said with a shrug. It had been a little embarrassing, but he hadn’t been all that put out by it. Compared to some of the things Hound had said, Trailbreaker’s inadvertent over-disclosure had seemed pretty tame.

“Sometimes when I’m joking around with Hound, I get carried away,” Trailbreaker persisted. “I just…I just didn’t think. I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not mad,” he said, bewildered by Trailbreaker’s sudden contrition. Did Trailbreaker think he was really that uptight?

“Is everything all right?” Hound called.

“Fine,” he called back, holding Trailbreaker’s optics. “I’ll be right there; go on ahead without me.”

“See you in a klik,” Hound replied blithely. As Wheeljack turned to leave, he heard him add, “C’mon, ‘Breaker, get the lead out! We gotta roll!”

He headed back down the corridor toward his lab, feeling vaguely troubled by Trailbreaker’s reaction, and all too aware of his worried gaze resting on his backstrut as he departed.

**

As promised, Hound and Trailbreaker were waiting at the entrance when he arrived. Mirage was still absent. They looked up at his approach with the air of two mechs who’d been interrupted in the midst of a conversation, but greeted him warmly all the same.

“Mirage isn’t back yet?” he asked.

“I’m here,” came the quiet reply from the corridor behind him. As they turned toward the sound, Mirage appeared – literally out of thin air. He’d been using his electro-disruptor.

Hound frowned faintly, but after a glance at Wheeljack and Trailbreaker he said, “Well, let’s get going; we’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us, and we don’t want to be late. Not all of us were built for speed,” he added self-deprecatingly, casting a teasing glance at Trailbreaker.

They transformed and rolled out.

Hound took the lead, Mirage falling in behind him. Wheeljack followed Mirage, with Trailbreaker bringing up the rear. It was a defensive formation, placing the mechs with greater endurance in a position to defend their speedier but less resilient compatriots, one they fell into instinctively without need for discussion. Even on a leisure outing, old habits died hard. Since Hound was the only one who knew where they were going, the formation also made good old-fashioned sense.

They had driven in silence for roughly a breem when Hound spoke over an open comm channel, *All right, ‘Raj,* he said. *Out with it; what’s wrong?*

Wheeljack was startled; Mirage looked perfectly fine to him. He’d been on the spy’s bumper the whole time, and hadn’t noticed any indication of mechanical trouble – had Hound spotted some problem he’d overlooked?

*It’s nothing,* Mirage replied after a brief pause.

*It’s not nothing if it’s got you hiding again,* Hound disputed. *You were fine this morning; did something happen?*

Mirage didn’t respond immediately. Trailbreaker’s deep voice came over the comm. *You two can take this to a private line, if you want,* he volunteered gently.

*Thank you, Trailbreaker,* Mirage said, *I appreciate the offer, but I don’t mind if you and Wheeljack hear. In fact, I think I’d like your opinions.*

*Our opinions on what?* Wheeljack asked.

*What happened, ‘Raj?* Hound asked with concern.

*When I was on my way back to meet you three, I ran into Cliffjumper,* Mirage began hesitantly.

*Don’t tell me he’s started up with that ‘traitor’ slag again,* Hound interrupted with a growl. *That little punk; I oughta dent his plating –*

*It’s all right, Hound,* Mirage said soothingly, *It wasn’t like that. Actually he was very nice to me, at least at first. I think he was trying to be friendly; I ran into him in the hall, and he stopped to talk to me. I think…he really wanted to talk to me.*

*So what was the problem?* Trailbreaker asked, voicing the question on all their CPUs.

*The problem was I didn’t have time to talk,* Mirage replied. *I knew you three were waiting for me, so when he paused for a moment, I cut in and said I couldn’t talk to him right then, that I was in a hurry. I tried to be polite about it, but...he got angry.*

*How angry?* Hound inquired cautiously.

*…he called me a snooty Towers brat,* Mirage admitted reluctantly. *Said I thought I was too good to waste my time talking to a mech like him, and then stormed off.*

For a moment they were all too stunned to speak. Hound recovered first. *That – that’s stupid – you had plans, we were all waiting for you!*

*Cliffjumper always was a bit of a hothead,* Trailbreaker said.

*So you don’t think it’s true that I’m…snooty?* Mirage asked.

*You’re sophisticated, sure,* Hound replied, *but you don’t act like you’re better than the rest of us; Tracks and Sunstreaker are way worse than you are.*

*You were perfectly polite to him,* Trailbreaker opined. *You’re polite to everyone – actually, that’s probably what set him off; if you had a reputation for being rude or violent like Tracks or Sunstreaker, he’d have never mouthed off to you like that in the first place. He’d have been too scared to.*

*What about you, Wheeljack?* Mirage asked, noting his silence. *Do you think I’m…like that?*

*Not at all,* he said sincerely. *I worked with a couple Towers mechs back on Cybertron; believe me, you’re nothing like them. You’re…really nice.*

*Cliffjumper’s an aft,* Hound said, less diplomatically. *He’s got a mouth about three sizes too big for him.*

They had to laugh at that.

**

They arrived at their destination approximately half a joor later.

They’d passed the time with amiable chatter, joking back and forth over their comms. By the time they pulled into the near-deserted parking lot, they were all in good spirits.

There was only one human present, a dark-haired male who appeared older than Spike, but a little younger than Sparkplug. He observed their arrival with obvious curiosity; when they transformed, he broke into a grin that lit up his whole face. “Good morning!” he greeted them brightly. “Welcome to Bonneville Fish Hatchery! I’m Brad Callahan; which one of you is Hound?”

“I am,” Hound replied, stepping forward a pace. “Nice to meet you, Brad. Are you the one I spoke to earlier? I thought he said his name was – ”

“Tom,” Brad finished for him. “Tom’s my supervisor; he couldn’t make it in today,” Brad said. “It’s killing him to miss out on meeting you, but he’s got a really bad case of the flu, so he had no choice but to turn you over to one of us.” His grin widened. “We had a lottery to choose who would get to be your guide; I won. My colleagues all hate me now,” he reported gleefully.

“Why would they hate you?” Mirage asked, frowning faintly.

“Because I get to meet you!” Brad gushed. “It’s a huge honor – I’m actually shaking, here! What are your names, by the way?” he asked excitedly.

“I’m Hound, but you knew that,” Hound said. “This is Trailbreaker, Wheeljack, and Mirage,” he continued, gesturing to each in turn.

“Nice to meet you,” Trailbreaker said with a smile.

“A pleasure,” said Mirage.

Wheeljack waved, “How’s it going?”

“Wow,” Brad breathed, shaking his head in awe. He stared at them in wonderment for another moment, then seemed to shake himself. “Well, enough gawking; are you ready to see the hatchery?”

“You bet we are,” Hound replied eagerly, “and you can tell Tom that he may not have missed his chance after all. One of our scientists wanted to come too, but he couldn’t make it today. He wanted me to ask if he might be allowed to pay you a visit some other time.”

Brad’s smile couldn’t get any wider, it was already threatening to overtake his face, but he nodded enthusiastically. “He’ll be thrilled to hear that! Tell your friend to contact him; we’ll make the arrangements just like we did for you.”

“What sort of arrangements?” Wheeljack asked. He’d been looking around while the others talked, taking in the tidy collection of white-painted buildings and well-kept grounds. The parking lot was more than spacious enough to accommodate them, but he was certain they would be too large to enter the human-sized structures, at least not in the conventional way.

“Well, you’re too big to go in the gift shop, but it’s closed for the winter anyway,” Brad replied with a grin. “Tom put together an assortment of souvenirs for you, though. He figured you wouldn’t have much use for t-shirts or caps, but he said he’d found some bumper stickers and postcards he thought you might like.”

“Awesome,” Hound said happily.

“As for the tour itself, you may have noticed no one else is around,” Brad continued. “We figured you’d have an easier time if you didn’t have to fight our usual crowds, so we’ve closed the hatchery for the day. Since this is a working facility, most of the buildings were designed to be accessible to trucks and large equipment, so your size shouldn’t pose much of a problem. The tour will basically be one big circle, starting with the trout ponds and the sturgeon viewing center, then on up to the dam and the fish ladder, where you’ll get a chance to see the salmon making their way upriver to spawn. You’ve come at a great time; we’re in the height of spawning season right now.”

Hound exchanged glances with Trailbreaker. Both looked excited and pleased by the proposed tour.

“We really appreciate you going to all this trouble,” Hound said. Trailbreaker nodded in agreement.

“It’s our pleasure,” Brad replied with a smile. “We’re delighted to have you.”

“Is it all right if I take image captures?” Hound asked hopefully.

“You mean pictures?” Brad asked. Hound nodded. “Only if you send us copies,” he replied with a wink. “Ready to get started?”

“Absolutely,” Trailbreaker said enthusiastically. “Let’s roll!”

Hound nodded and transformed, then addressed the wide-eyed human, “Hop in, Brad,” he said cheerfully. “It beats walking!”

The human eagerly complied. “Wait’ll my colleagues hear about this,” he said, looking around excitedly. “Hell, wait’ll my wife hears about this!”



*A/N: Feh, stupid posting limits. The second half is here.*