1.5-Terrible Life Choices(And Other Las Vegas Attractions)-F

[Bluestreak]

Bluestreak nodded. "Thank you."

"Engineer?" he echoed after a moment even as he puzzled at her age. "That's a tough job, not one I sure could do. I'm impressed - that's hard, hard, exacting work, you know? You build something slightly off and things go wrong and well, you get the part about fixing it, but

He glanced up at her. "Not much," he admitted with a bit of a grin, watching her open the fridge with interest. There were all sorts of things. "Wow. So right, you did work that was for the government- wait, contracted out to the government."

"I've seen those cranes,," he agreed with a low whistle. Well, not really, he'd seen big cranes back on Cybertron loading up big ships with cargo, but hey, same difference, right? He'd have to go with that. "They're just huge, can move some large stuff..."

Like Cybertronians, that little voice in his head offered. Like us. If she's an engineer for that type of machinery, they need that stuff at MECH, and they need to probably build it in house because they don't want to contract out for it because that would tip someone off outside of them, I bet. Like hi, could you come and lift our giant robot onto the ship, mind the screaming and cursing, it's a test.

"Did these guys that were chasing you today ask you to build that sort of rigging for them or something? Like a crane? Like to move cargo? Or was it for something else?"

Outside in the garage, his car mode went into a full body shudder. It helped though, helped him keep his avatar grounded quietly in the chair. Weird.

"I've never been on a carrier though," he told her, and looked up with honest interest. "I've been on some other ships, sure. Some smaller stuff, here and there I guess, but mostly uh-- cruising ships, I guess, that's the right term. Sorry, so not up on my ship classes - but... wait, you said- was? Was a great job? Do you not work for the smaller company any more?"

"Sounds like you miss it," he told her. "Being on those ships."

He inclined his head, watching her punch the pop can open. Okay. Finger under that lifty thing, Bluestreak, pick it up slowly, and then it makes a hissy noise, right, got it.

[Deleted]

Luckily, Bluestreak’s can opening skills would not be put to the test – because she popped open the second can as well.

Carly smiled a bit mistily at mention of the ship as she poured both drinks.

“Actually, that’s a good hypothesis – but no!” she said. “While our work on the carrier was indeed pretty badass, the guys that contacted me weren’t interested in it specifically. It gets a bit creepier than that. Lemme explain.”

She wiped her hands on her jeans and turned back to the fridge to look for ice. As she opened the freezer she said, “So anyway, a year ago that small company I was working for got sold – we were bought out by Rolls Royce. Which was, eh... both good and bad. Good because Rolls kept all of us employed, since they liked our work and the close–knit team we had fostered between ourselves. Bad because, well... the paperwork tripled overnight. Ugh.”

Carly sighed as she pulled out an ice tray. “Like... if you want to do or change anything, even the smallest alteration on a design, even if you want to switch a font, it has to go through at least three different channels just to get the proper authorization. And everything has to be checked and rechecked, not because it needs the evaluation, but because it satisfies the lawyers. So annoying. But hey, pay raise. Anyway.”

She plopped a few ice cubes into the drinks before returning the tray to the freezer. “Anyway! I’ve been working for Rolls for over a year now, and things have been pretty okay. I miss the old government contracts, bit we’ve been working on some interesting stuff. Then, maybe two or three weeks ago, I got an email. From another small engineering ’company’, who said they first spotted my name on the MIT alumni list and were interested in hiring me.”

Carly rolled her eyes and made air quotes before picking up the drinks and swishing over to the table to join Bluestreak.

[Bluestreak]

Saved by her tab-lifting intervention on the Coke can, the sharpshooter sat and watched her pour the liquid into the glass. It danced upwards, foaming and spattering up bubbles. They made a popping sound as they rose into the air, crackling ominously.

Not only did Coke apparently make noises, it was the same brown shade as burned and used motor oil. Okay, humans are made of sturdy stuff if this is the thing they drink on a regular basis, he decided. When she added the ice, more rather dubious sounds curled from the concoction.

Okay, even if I could drink that I can't say it would be something I want to put into my lines. Actually, I have a feeling Ratchet would totally ream me up one side and down the other if I did drink it. Great, how do I keep ending up in the situations that the spooks should be doing this sort of thing, seriously? I am the worst at this. I am so the worst at this.

Don't even try, Bluestreak. Seriously. You shoot things. You shoot things well. Stick with that.

"Sure," he offered when she started to explain, and then he was quiet. He didn't say a word as she spoke - instead he listened to every word. It was important. Wash and Rook might be able to pick out the finer details but right now, all he had was one Bluestreak sitting in a chair that he was afraid might break under his weight all of a sudden.

He also just- he liked her voice. It filled the kitchen like the light from the windows. In the garage, the Datsun relaxed over his tires, the hood nearly brushing the cool concrete floor. His engine ticked softly.

What she was saying though, proved to be very important. Right, her small company was sold to a big one - he could understand that. Bluestreak could also understand the change in dynamics. His expression shifted into one of honest empathy. He understood her feelings on the matter. He'd been part of a close knit team before, and when you changed field commanders, the dynamics changed on the group, no matter how it had been before.

Also, delivery guys understood all those datapad notes in triplicate. Yep.

Carly's frustration was obvious to the mech in her choice of words, her sigh. She understood why they made her do it, she just... chafed at doing it like that. She was an engineer like - well, probably like Wheeljack. With less blowing things up (hopefully) and less punching things in the face (again, hopefully) but she liked to build, to tinker, to change on the spur of a moment maybe. The sort that liked the creation part of the process as much as she took pride in the final outcome.

Bluestreak could oddly relate a bit. His rifle. It was as custom as any customized weapon could be, and he'd spent years learning how to shoot, but also how to build it to be better.

There was nothing that compared to realizing you had an extra five yards now, or the sight was sharper, or that this system meshed just so. Trial and error, troubleshoot, take it apart and put it back together.

Nowhere near the engineering she was talking about, but still...

"Yeah, pay raises are totally great," he murmured, and then continued to listen. She worked for this company on interesting stuff. He wondered what it was, and wanted to ask, but thought that might be something private for sure.

He tipped his head at the gesture she made, not quite sure what to make of it. Her tone had changed to a bit of sarcasm though, so he assumed that was what she meant.

"So this not a company -right, that's what you think, it's not an actual company - they just grabbed your name off a school list three weeks ago and contacted?" he asked. "They sent you a job offer? Is that normal, because it doesn't feel right for me, that they'd contact and not know your current skill level as an engineer, or what you specialize in? Or did they?"

[Deleted]

Carly set one of the drinks down in front of him. The ice clinked.

“See, that’s what I thought at first!” she said. “That they just grabbed my name off the list because of the year I graduated or something.”

She collapsed into the chair across from Bluestreak and cradled her arms around her own drink. A gold ring gleamed on one of her fingers, heavy and square. “But then I sent a kind of cautious email back and they replied and it turned out that this company had actually gone and done a little more research into my background than that. I guess somehow they got a hold of one of my resumes from when I was first looking for work and had gone from there. So they knew where I had worked before all this, where I was working currently – they knew I specialized in field and space robotics, that I was part of the MIT Biomimetics lab – all sorts of stuff. ”

Carly winced and swirled one finger through her drink.

“I’ll admit, at first I was a liiittle bit flattered,” she said lamely. “I mean, it really seemed like these guys wanted to headhunt me from Rolls pretty bad. So I sort of played along with it for a while, played at being interested in their offer of employment at their company. I mean, they said they were working in conjunction with Boston Dynamics! That is a pretty big deal!”

She winced. “In retrospect, not my finest moment. Talk about terrible life choices right there.”

[Bluestreak]

Bluestreak watched her poke a finger into her Coke. The ice clattered off the sides as she stirred it, and a tiny whorl of bubbles spun up inside of the glass. He settled his hands on the table and leaned back a bit in the chair to listen to her.

Robotics.

That one word sent the car in the garage back up and over his tires as if it was going to crawl backwards out of the room. The mirrors shifted nervously and caught the light, sending a disk of brightness zipping across the concrete floor. Bluestreak tried not to think about how low the ceiling was. The door. His scanners flickered across the space again, and for a second, all he could think of was MECH and hoped he hadn't just blithely driven into a trap. Or that- that he hadn't left Wash to do the same.

"You- you're a robotics specialist?" he stumbled, as he processed that information. An expression of surprise drew his brows together; the chair scooted back against the tile with a squeak. "Seriously? I--"

They knew about this woman's work, and no doubt they knew exactly where she lived. They had the ability to hunt down Cybertronians, she'd answered them with a resume. Didn't those have your personal information on them?

At her wince and shift in tone, he immediately was drawn back to her.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa." he countered with a shake of his head and a quick lift of his hand.

"Let me tell you, there's nothing wrong with being flattered over something like that, honest." His smile was earnest and his shoulders rolled forward as he leaned his avatar's forearms against the table. "Look, trust me, I've been there too, I think most everyone has, you know? When someone searches you out, when they come up and tell you you have a skill that's worth something to them, when- well, especially when it's something that you've spent your life and time building up from the bottom up? You just kinda want to know more because it makes you feel like - well, like you're something special."

"Er, not that you're not," he said apologetically after a moment. "Something special, I mean. Or something like- well, you know what I mean, I hope because I'm not doing a good job of explaining it."

"Speaking of explaining, I hate to ask because maybe I should know but hey, I've uh, been living under a rock lately. So, what's Boston Dynamics? Actually, what's biomimetrics? Also, what made you decide not to go and work for these guys, and wait, why would they chase you across Vegas instead of just both of you saying thanks but no thanks, you're not what we're looking for...?"

[Deleted]

Carly beamed at 'something special'.

"Boston Dynamics?" she said shyly. "Oh man, they're a major engineering and robotics company back home in Massachusetts. They make amazingly mobile robots and design for everyone from Sony to DARPA. Have you ever seen BigDog? Oh my god. Look up BigDog the next time you're online. He may be kind of noisy - no surprise, I mean, his powerplant is just a little two-stroke - but he's incredible. His dexterity and balance amazes me. He can even recover on icy surfaces! I love him. Him and his little P4 brain."

Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, her hands cupped around her glass of Coke. "And biomimetics? Is kinda like what it sounds like: adapting natural designs to solve modern problems in engineering, medicine, science. Bio - mime - tics. See? It's really neat. Like... how researchers have applied the biological systems behind iridescence in butterflies to produce brighter cell phone screens. Or studying how the leaping edges of a humpback whale's flukes could produce more agile wings in aircraft. Such neat stuff. But I'm getting off track, aren't I?"

She laughed sheepishly. "Anyway, so... what made me decide not to go work for those guys? Well, I don't know, exactly. Something about the whole thing just felt off. Like... they told me I'd need to move, for starters. Okay, that's not so suspicious, lots of people need to move for new jobs. But to an isolated private community northeast of Salt Lake City that doesn't have a website for information I could visit, but they would email attachments about pending a signed contract?"

Carly made a face. "Yeah, uh, I dunno. That just screams survivalist cult to me. There were other things too. They were awful upfront about how much they would pay me - and it was a lot - but then you'd ask them questions about the company itself and they got a bit evasive. I think I asked an innocent question about their QMS once and boy, dead silence from the other end. They said they did military work, but when I asked them if they were registered under the SAM program - er, that's the System for Award Management, I don't think the USACE will even look at you if you're not registered - more evasion. So... I got a bit suspicious."

"And they got pushier." Carly sighed and swirled her drink. "Like, they weren't actually threatening me, but their communications just felt... politely ominous. And then I got mad and maybe the reason I was chased by black cars today is because I might have told that I was not interested in working for them, and that maybe they could suck it?"

She paused. "Not in those exact words, mind you."

[Bluestreak]

Bluestreak settled his elbows on the table, folding his arms across each other. He listened to every word; her enthusiasm was obvious and drew him in. She spoke about these things like he did about wind trajectory, or the way a scope needed to be calibrated. He shook his head - no, he didn't know about BigDog, but he'd absolutely look it up because- well, because it sounded neat. He was a bit doubtful about the amazingly mobile robot, but hey, he'd keep that to himself, because... well, obvious reasons.

Bimomentrics was something he honestly had no clue on at all. None. The mech was quiet as- well, she talked. She filled up the space between them, and it was fascinating to him. In some odd way it made sense; they had to base their mechanics off of what they knew, right, and that would be the world around them. Butterflies and flukes-- oh, he knew what a humpback whale was, hooray.

He'd been watching a lot of surfing on TV.

"Nah, no, not off track," he assured her. "It's fascinating, but -- oh wait, yeah, wait, we're a little off track, sorry..."

He echoed her laugh with one of his own, and lifted his hand to gesture for her to continue her story. As she did, he couldn't help the frown that drifted across his features. Yeah, he could understand the moving thing, sure, it was a job. Even back home he'd had friends who'd moved from one city to the next for job opportunities. However, the bit about the private community gave him pause, as did everything else.

She's smart not to have done it, he thought. Well, of course she's smart, stupid, she's an engineer, and you're sure not, haha. Great, I need to tell Wash about this, I need to tell him about Salt Lake City and no websites for these guys. If she felt it was washy enough, that the company was evading things it had to have in her field, how many of the other people that do know robotics took the jump, they've got a hiring pattern, it looks like and uh, yeah, I'm not great at that, but even I can see that might be a lead or a way to get them to rear up and we can get an in with them or something, not that I want anywhere near them, but that's what the spooks are for, right?

He didn't dare open up a comm line right yet. Wash hadn't contacted him in a panic, so best not to disturb him since he was the one having to explain how he'd cannonballed off the top of a Datsun and smashed into a car full of MECH folks.

How he was going to do that, Bluestreak had no idea, but hey, it was Wash.

Probably with a lot of style.

When Carly finished her story, Bluestreak brought his avatar's hand up to rub at his forehead. What she'd said was incredibly important, in fact, that was a pretty big breakthrough for them, all this information that she'd given but... it didn't sit well with him for her. Not at all.

Okay, that felt weird without the angles of his helm. Weirder was that it felt, he supposed, that he touched things and it registered to him as he sat in the garage.

"I think," he chuckled, "that telling them to do that even in different words was perfectly justified. That all your suspicions sound pretty spot on. I mean, okay, all these things they don't have that they should have and then they get pushy when you ask the right questions that sound like perfectly normal questions for someone in your field... not good. Even forgetting about a bunch of black cars with tinted windows trying to--"

"Hey, um, did you meet them somewhere before they came after you?" he asked quietly. "Like face to face, or did you tell them via email?"

[Deleted]

Carly shook her head.

"Nope, never met any one of them face to face," she said. "So I'm not sure how they knew what I look like or what I drive. I'm sorta wondering if maybe they've seen me at work. Or, ugh, if one of my coworkers at Rolls is associated with them, amazing. They only emailed me after the original company got bought out. That's a disturbing thought."

She grimaced and lifted her drink. Her hand was a little shaky, but she downed half the glass in one go and then rolled the cool glass on her sweaty forehead.

"Anyway, no one strange has ever come here to my door to bother me," she said. "And if they looked me up through an old resume they're out of luck, because the address on it is to my old apartment. So, I dunno. I don't really like the thought that I could get jumped again the next time I step out my door to go to the bank or to go downtown to visit friends. Ugh. It sucks, being so loaded with employable skills."

Carly laughed, but it sounded a little forced was immediately followed up by a sigh. Then she gave Blue a curious up and down look.

"So, er... who exactly are you, anyway?" she said. "Other than 'Blue'. Are you a cop or ex-military or a private detective or something like that? Because you kind of quartered that guy into a motel parking lot! And then the other man who was with you jumped onto the hood of a moving car and into the windshield, and that is kind of crazy? You don't seem like, you know... ordinary bystanders."

She eyed him a little warily now.

[Bluestreak]

Bluestreak really didn't like that answer. It was better than it could have been, sure but it wasn't a good answer. It actually was a troubling thought; if she'd said she'd met them face to face, okay, that's why she'd gotten chased down, hunted through the streets of Vegas by these creeps, sure.

He noted the shaky hand, the gulp - good thing it wasn't alcoholic, that was for sure. It was that steadying swallow you tried to do when you were nervous and upset. Well, at least that was how he translated it; human hand motions were a lot like their own, which... was sort of- well, it made things easier. Kind of.

"No, I don't like that thought either," he told her, and shook his head. Then it sort of hit, no, they couldn't just leave her to deal with MECH, because he was now one hundred percent sure, no questions asked. They seemed like the sorts that if you said no, it meant, too bad so sad, guess you're run over on a Vegas highway and-- gah, he couldn't let that happen, it wasn't right. No. Not at all. Not to him. They'll come back. No way.

"I mean, if they've seen you at work and know where you work, it's not hard to --oh."

"Um," he replied. "Um. Right. That."

See, she was smart. And you... what did Ratchet say to you once? Brain to mouth filter, Blue. Brain to mouth- wait he'd also mentioned it needed to be replaced. Friggit.

The Datsun flattened nearly to the concrete floor of the garage. The front tire twisted like it was digging a shamed hole in the dirt, oops. His engine gave a tiny hiccough as his headights dimmed and brightened. His mirrors lowered and raised slightly, reflecting light against the ceiling.

At the table, he brought up a hand to run through his avatar's hair. Okay, wait, wait, she gave you an opening. Take it, take it. Think. What would Wash do? Besides kick feet first through a windshield, that's not helpful right now? Cool, but not helpful.

"Uh, you got it, we're military, yeah. I can't talk about it too much," he told her, looking apologetic. "But my partner back there is part of my squad, yeah."

"Really, though, my name is Blue," he replied, and ducked his head with a self-conscious smile. "I swear. It's Blue. You know how some families on TV have responsible lives and two cars and a garage and a picket fence? Well, my- my parents, haha-- they were sort of way out there sometimes. Really way out there."

In an effort to explain, he held his hand above his glass of Coke and raised his hand like he was raising an invisible bar.

"Like - the truth is out there. But hey, the dog was named Indiana."

[Deleted]

"Oh my god," said Carly.

There was a subtle scrape under the table as she edged her chair in a little closer. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on her knit hands, her lower lip caught between the corner of her teeth. Her eyes sparkled. "That is... so cute."

"Your name, I mean," she added a moment later, as if she felt the need to elaborate. "Er, with your family and everything. That they named you Blue. That's really cute. The military part though, that kicks ass."

She gave him another searching look, and this time it was definitely curious.

"You kind of looked either military or like a cop, which is why I was wondering," she said. "You know, with the hair and the manners and the muscles and everything. Um. In which case, I'm sorry I fled the scene of a crime? Ish? I don't normally get into high speed scooter chases down major urban streets, I swear. But thank you for helping me. I feel a lot better now knowing that you're here. Ish. I know you said you couldn't talk about whatever it is you're up to in the city, but I don't suppose you have any ID you could show me-"

Without warning, the front doorbell let out a cheerful ring. Carly jumped and looked back down the hall a little fearfully.

"Bing bong!" sang Wash over the comm line. "I'm just parked outside. It's me at the door, not MECH or the vindow viper or anything, here to vipe your vindows. Everybody okay in there?"

[Bluestreak]

There was a terrible moment where Bluestreak was pretty sure he'd blown it. Like blown it so badly it was hanging off a pretty narrow ledge without a safety harness. He tried to think of something. Anything. Really, even with his limited knowledge of the planet - who the heck names someone Blue, right, that's the stupidest thing, isn't it, she's going to see right through it, seriously, why didn't you come up with a different name like - like Steve or Tony or something human-sounding at least.

His hand closed over nothing - and he realized stupidly that his rifle was oh, in the garage. The next thing that came to mind was that he started to open his mouth. Preferably without putting his foot in it again. She was leaning her chin on her hands and sounded as nervous as he did.

"Wha?" he asked, totally startled. "I'm-- oh, ah, I'm glad it doesn't sound stupid. Well, too stupid, because I was thinking that it really sounded stupid all of a sudden and let me tell you, I don't want to sound like a total babbling circuit fried-"

The sharpshooter stopped in mid-chatter. Mostly because she'd asked for identification.

Which really, he had none. Well, no human identification. In fact he had no idea what the heck he was supposed to have to identify himself to some human, and for some reason he didn't think pinging her an Autobot code was going to help the situation, oh boy.

Quickly, he copied her, he wrapped his hands around his Coke but didn't drink it. "I can go--" he started to say, but then she jumped. Immediately, he jumped, his hand off the cup and reaching for his shoulder -and there was nothing there. That unsettled him totally, and he scraped back in his chair and was on his feet.

"Stay here." he told her quietly, starting to reach over his shoulder again. However, much to his utter relief Wash's voice echoed in his comm.

"Ahhh, Wash! You scared the heck out of us! Are you okay? Well of course you're okay or you wouldn't be here now so ah, it's good to hear you, you found the place okay, isn't it a nice house? Great, grand, okay, that's great, you've got that all under control because I sure don't, but hey you'd not believe her windows in here, there's even one in the garage, go figure, and this concrete is clean enough to set a cube on- ah, sorry, distracted a bit here, I'm kind of a bit distracted, she's distracting! But in a nice way, I swear, oh, right, so the human-"

"I mean, her name's Carly, and she's an engineer can you believe that, works on robotics, right, and she's super friendly and so smart and they were trying to recruit her off an old resume and okay so everything's making sense but not in the good way. Also, uh, I kinda messed up I think we were just talking and she asked about you cannonballing and me quartering the car and I said we were military which she totally understood - ah, I should have said we were private detectives or something, but we really are military it's not a lie because I'm a lousy liar sometimes when I'm caught on the spot..."

There might have been a pause in there. Probably not. Bluestreak was so relieved to hear Wash that he couldn't shut up. Wash knew far more about humans, and he was just flailing and fumbling and she was totally going to catch him on some point and then- what were they going to do. Take her back to the base?

Not a bad idea, the little voice in his head said. Heck, she's friendly, she'd get along fine with the kids, right?

"I totally messed up though, told her my name was Blue, so I guess it really is Blue haha, it's okay though, she says it's cute, I told her that my parents were sort of out there in space. I know that was bad but it worked, but she wants to see some ID and I can't blame her, but I don't have a darn thing I can show her, and I'm totally going to mess this up talking to her I just know it...."

"Help?" he beseeched Wash. "Hang on, I'll go to the door and let you in haha, window wipers. You should see her windows. She's got the prettiest windows."

He turned back to her quickly. "Hey, Carly? I'm hoping it's my partner, I gave him coordinates but if it's not, you need to get out of here in a hurry, okay? I'm going to trust you with my car. I saw you drive that scooter. Keys are in it. I'll get you out of here."

[Deleted]

Carly quickly nodded. But despite her frightened expression there was a keen glint in her eye. She sat upright and alert with her hands resting lightly on the tabletop, ready to spring to her feet in an instant.

Meanwhile, there was silence over the commline.

"I ask you a four word question and you give me a four paragraph answer?" said Wash. He sounded amused. "Bluestreak, never change. Okay, I think I got all that. She wants to see identification? No problem, I can provide. Don't worry, you're doing fine. Just let me in and I'll handle the ID thing. Agent Fowler grilled me well. Wow. You know, our girl's got a nice house. What's it look like inside to you - fifteen hundred, two thousand square feet? Somebody is doing all right for themselves. Oh, hang on, lemme make things a little less awkward for you."

There was a knock on the door.

"Hello?" said a muffled voice outside. It sounded friendly. "Miss Scooter? It's just me, Blue's partner. Is he in there with you? Do I have the right house?"

A moment later Wash's pale head peered through one of the little frosted window panels in the door, his hands cupped to the glass. He waved.

[Bluestreak]

Bluestreak had to admire Carly quietly for a second. Sure, she was scared, but she was steady and ready to get moving if needed. More than he could say for himself sometimes.

"Aw, thanks," Bluestreak replied. Out in the garage the Datsun's tires splayed a bit. The silver mech's hood dipped slightly and he settled down with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm going to make a guess it's about two thousand square feet. Not counting the garage, which is pretty clean. I don't think she has a car. Hey though, I just am totally out of my element and not that car that looks like a breadbox on teeny tires, either. Like, I mean, point me at it, I'll shoot at it and hit it. But hey..."

"I figured if anyone could get all of it and understand it, it was you," he said simply.

"Besides, heh, there's no special four word code that describes this situation. I'm going to invent one, just for us. For moments like these. How does 'it's tinfoil helmet time,' sound?"

"Right, hang on... I'll get the door for you."

Bluestreak grinned and his avatar rocked back on his boot heels as he waved back at Wash peeking through the door. His shoulder relaxed, he brought his hands back to his sides and then glanced over his shoulder at Carly.

"We're clear. It's my partner. You okay with him coming inside to talk or would you rather have me step outside too while we do...?"

[Deleted]

“Tinfoil helmet time!” sang Wash. He sounded in a good mood.

The pale–haired avatar waved again when it saw Bluestreak looking at it through the door. Then it ducked back out of sight, content to wait for the door to be opened now that it knew it had been seen.

Carly shook herself out of her surprise. She fell back in her chair, her hand clapped to her forehead.

“Oh, that’s a relief!” she said. “I’m so glad it’s someone you know. No, um, I don't mind if he wants to come in too. Go ahead, let him in. Maybe he’s got more to tell us about those goons in the black cars. Oh, man... I’m going to need more Coke, aren't I.”

Flustered, she got to her feet and puttered back over the fridge. The events of the afternoon, combined with the fact that she had two military men standing in her house, seemed to finally be throwing her for a loop.

[Bluestreak]

Wash sure sounded in the best mood. Probably went with his leaping foot first into the black car's front window. Well, that was okay, he himself was pretty delighted about that whole situation too.

Bluestreak paused before he headed to go open the door, long enough to give Carly what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Really, he knew how those things went when you had every system running high and suddenly were attempting to decompress, but not sure you should start in case you had to pack up and run again. Or something like that. So you tried to do the natural things; you repeated patterns your mind and body knew how to do. Go to fridge, get Coke, pour Coke. It resettled you into the moment, and he could respect that.

"Yeah, I think we both would like to know a lot more about the goons in the black cars," he agreed. He did want to know because this had suddenly become a totally different thing for him; they were recruiting humans that had knowledge- and well, in a weird way the comments she'd made about biomimetics made him even more uncomfortable. Applying the natural world humans understood to robotics, or... uh...

He'd pulled apart his rifle so many times it was second nature to him. He also loved tinkering on other types of rifles, to understand how they worked. Not that he planned on changing his build ever; this one was his.

Reverse engineering. That thought didn't sit well with him at all. Not that Cybertronian systems were the same and Ratchet would probably snort and tell him he oversimplified things, but... maybe it was like the guns. The first time he'd done it, he'd just had to struggle to understand it.

Now Bluestreak could do it blindfolded and in a rainstorm or something. He knew how to take it apart and what all the little parts were for and how to adjust them... and how to cobble together a workable thing out of spares if he was desperate.

"I'll go let him in then. Thanks though. Honest, you'll like him, he's a great guy, I swear," he called back over his shoulder as he went to open the door. It took him a moment to figure out how it worked. Okay, uh, where's the touch pad that opened the door? No. Wait, right, got that - turn it - not that way, this way. He had to adjust his grip a few times before he managed to do it right and then it thunked and didn't move. Oh, shoot-caught by that bar up there. Deadbolt. Wow, talk about a primitive door. No wonder she went through the garage.

Finally he managed to get it open. On seeing Wash he grinned from ear to ear and gestured him in the house.

"Hey - come on in, gosh it's good to see you, everything okay? Well, not that it's okay, but that we're not going to be dressed down and made to scrub the floors in the entire base by the-- ah, the big F himself the moment we get back to base?"

Bluestreak was the first to admit that Fowler had a way of just shooting a look at you and you knew you were in deep, deep trouble, oh boy.