“I don't wanna think about it
Don't wanna think clear
Don't analyze
What I'm doing here
Wanna be impulsive
Reckless
And lose myself in your kiss”
-- “Impulsive” – Wilson Phillips
Author's warning: This chapter contains adult themes. There is no explicit description, just some vague wording. If you feel you can't handle that, skip this chapter.
Time passed for the couple, and the months stretched into years. Gradually, Optimus began to open up emotionally to his beloved, and she was amazed both at the amount of pain and sorrow that he had faced in his life, and the braveness and resolve with which he had pressed on. For the Autobots, for his people, for no sake of his own. He trusted her more and more with his true self, and she saw his moods that few others were privy to: his moodiness, his occasional flare of temper. And there was the occasional despondency that threatened to turn into depression. Optimus had confided to her that he had suffered through bouts of depression during low points in his life. There was a darkness in his soul, and it nibbled away at him, and once or twice it had nearly eaten him alive. She sensed that there was even more that he was not telling her – that he had most likely contemplated suicide at one point, maybe even attempted it. The very thought tore her up inside. He was such a good person; he didn't deserve to feel like that.
Their two-year anniversary passed, and not too long afterward came the anniversary of Alita's death. For the first time, Optimus found himself willing to frankly talk about her, and discovered, to his surprise, that he no longer felt the searing pain of her loss. There was still a dull, hollow ache that he figured would never completely go away. Alita had been such a large part of his life, had even seemed to be part of his soul, and nothing could take her place. But he could now think of her fondly and without pain or regret. On the night that she died, the very night that Unicron had attacked Cybertron, Optimus had reached out to Andromeda, finally willing to discuss the one subject he had avoided: Alita One.
Andromeda was surprised when she entered his personal quarters that night. Optimus had a beautiful portrait of Alita hanging on the wall, and next to it now hung an equally beautiful portrait of herself. “My two lovely ladies,” he said proudly.
Andromeda was struck speechless at being in the same category as Alita One. The couple sat down and discussed the events of the fateful night of Unicron's attack. Optimus had been dead at that point, but he had sensed the events that transpired through the Matrix. Andromeda, however, had witnessed the attack first-hand. The femmes had not participated in the Autobot exodus from Cybertron when it fell into Decepticon hands. They preferred, as always, to work as a guerrilla group to try to regain the planet. They had conducted several successful raids, but it was like hitting an elephant with a flyswatter. And then Unicron came and changed everything.
“It was terrible,” the dark blue femme whispered, dreading the memory. “This giant robot, bigger than Cybertron itself, was trying to tear apart the planet! Shockwave was mobilizing the Decepticon fleet to try to counterattack, but Alita knew that it would be useless. She figured that our only chance of survival would be escape. So she herded us all on a shuttle and set it for automatic takeoff. We didn't know what she had planned before it was too late.” She choked off a sob. “She took a small cruiser and distracted Unicron so that our shuttle could safely escape. She gave her life so that the femmes would not become extinct.”
Optimus sat wordlessly, massaging her shoulders, contemplating the implication of her words. Alita had been brave and selfless right to the end. She understood that the Autobot femmes were a dying breed and did everything in her power to make sure that they would not become extinct. It was then that Alita's spark had entered the Matrix and helped once again to make a difference, to use her spark's essence, along with Prime's own and all the others in the Matrix, to destroy Unicron. He was fervently glad that he had not witnessed Unicron's attack first-hand. After an entire century of rebuilding, the damage still remained.
“It must have been a terrible sight,” he whispered.
“Yes, it was,” the femme sighed mournfully. “The worst thing was that we couldn't even fight back against Unicron. To do so would call attention to ourselves and negate Alita's sacrifice. All we could do was watch.”
Optimus drew the trembling femme against him, rubbing her back comfortingly. “You couldn't have done anything. Only the Matrix could have helped. To Alita, the survival of the femmes was everything. I think that she was honored to sacrifice her life for their survival.”
Andromeda gave him a wavering smile. “I served under Alita One for only a few short years, while the Decepticons occupied Cybertron, but I know that she was a remarkable femme. She was always one step ahead of the 'Cons, always thinking of a way to better our chances for survival. She was very matronly, and I could tell how tight the bond was between her and the other femmes.” She looked away, finding the words difficult to say. “Sometimes I wonder if I'm betraying her memory by being with you. She gave her life for me, and here I am with her mate.”
“Don't think that!” Optimus said with a ferocity that surprised her. “She cared for every femme under her command, and if you've managed to bring me some happiness, she'd be very pleased. I'm sure she'd approve of you.”
“Do you think so?” Andromeda whispered, her voice filled with hope.
He smiled and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “I know so.” A kiss ended the discussion.
* * * * *
Optimus Prime found, to his surprise, that his feelings for Andromeda were slowly but surely changing. He loved her as passionately as ever, but now there was a new facet to it. He found himself staring at her at the most inopportune moments. He admired her round aft and her long, long legs that seemed to go on forever. He even caught himself several times wondering if the lovely silver accents that complemented her paint job ran underneath her armor plating. He berated himself fiercely for such thoughts. Naughty, naughty thoughts that should never see the light of day! She was worth so much more than that. He should go to the inferno just for thinking about it.
His newfound preoccupation took up a good chunk of his time and concentration. He found his attention wandering at crucial moments, during briefings and staff meetings, and he was sure that the senior staff had noticed. Kup certainly had, and had made his displeasure very clear. Magnus and Rodimus merely seemed concerned.
Prime found his mind wandering once again and forced himself to pay attention. Rodimus was in his office, discussing the division of duty for the next month. “…and we're also working on a trade agreement with the Betazoids. Nothing major, probably a cakewalk. Wanna take this one?”
“I don't think so, Roddy. You can have it.”
Rodimus was puzzled by his reaction. There was a note of… distaste?… in the elder Prime's voice. “Is there something wrong?” He thought of what he knew about the Betazoids. They were a very prosperous people, and they bore no outward distinction from human beings. The two species could be mixed together in a room and, without a medical tricorder, nobody could tell the difference. In fact, it was more than likely that the two species could produce a hybrid offspring. Optimus seemed to have no problem with humans. There was one major difference between Betazoids and humans, though. “Optimus, do you have something against telepaths?”
Roddy watched his friend shudder. The answer was quite apparent. “I have nothing personal against them, Rodimus. I just don't feel comfortable around them. My thoughts are very private, and I don't want anyone intruding on them. Inside my head is the one place where I can have true privacy.” He hated to admit it, but even the binary bonding process unnerved him. He couldn't imagine being attached to another being to such a degree, especially one as small and fragile as a Nebulan or human. Perceptor had discovered that the binary bonding stopped physical aging in the Nebulans and humans, but they were still much more vulnerable than their robotic counterparts. If Optimus had had a say in the matter, such a process would have never taken place. It just wasn't natural. He never, ever wanted to be bonded to another creature in such a matter. It would mean that the little privacy he did have would pretty much disappear, and he would have to worry about the fleshling's life constantly. The Matrix link with Rodimus bothered him enough as it was. It didn't interfere with their lives much, and it only activated when one of them experienced a strong sensation or emotion, but Optimus still despised having anyone sense his emotions, as much as he cared for Roddy. Above all, he did not want to be a Headmaster. It would mean sharing not only his structure but every private thought he had. Also, he would never be independent, remaining stuck in alternate mode when his head component was not around. The very idea creeped him out.
“Ahh. I see.” Rodimus did not comment further on the subject, willing to leave it at face value. Optimus was relieved. “I'll take care of the negotiations if you hold down the fort while I'm gone.”
“No problem.” Optimus was very glad to not be going to Betazed, though he had heard it was quite beautiful, and the inhabitants were very friendly.
Roddy cracked a grin. “You know, I heard a joke about the Betazoids. Goes like this: Two Betazoids walk into a bar. One says, 'I'll have the same.;”
Optimus looked blank for a second, then it came to him. “I get it. Not very creative, though.”
Roddy shrugged. “Hey, it's just a joke.”
The red and blue Autobot looked at his friend, jokes being the furthest thing from his mind. “Roddy, are you expecting company tonight?”
“Nope. All alone tonight, more's the pity. Couldn't get a date.”
Optimus forced back a snicker. Rodimus dateless? Must be the end of the world. “Well, could I come over then? You know, just to visit.”
“Sure. Just drop by whenever you feel like it.” Roddy kept his tone casual, but he knew something was up. They did meet occasionally just to 'hang', but Optimus sensed that there was more to it this time. Perhaps he wanted to talk about whatever had driven him to distraction.
Sometime after 2000 hours, the chime to Roddy's quarters rang. “Come on in!” he sang, pressing a button that automatically unlocked and opened the door. Optimus stepped into the room. “Have a seat, Op!” Roddy gestured to the Transformers' version of a sofa. It was made primarily of sturdy metal alloys, but the top was a silicone cushion that could comfortably absorb a great deal of weight. The elder Prime seated himself and waited for his rambunctious friend to join him.
“Feel like a drink?” Rodimus reached into a cabinet and pulled out a decanter of reddish-pink liquid. High-grade Energon. Very potent and intoxicating.
“Sure, why not. I finally finished my on-call week and could use some relaxation.” The two Primes took turns being on-call in case of emergency, so that both of them were not needlessly disturbed. The arrangement was working out well and gave both of them more time to relax and pursue leisure activities. Having one Prime ready for an emergency left the other one free to relax.
Roddy grabbed two large blocky glasses and deposited them unceremoniously on the table, then filled them to nearly brimming with the bright liquid. He hadn't offered his friend a drink just for the slag of it – Optimus often had trouble expressing what was on his mind, and a little high-grade went a long way to loosening his vocal module.
The two sat back, making idle conversation. Roddy knew better than to pry – Optimus would get to whatever was bothering him eventually. The chatter was more of a warm-up than anything. Rodimus was very glad to be there for his friend. He knew that Optimus did not bare his soul easily.
“I'm surprised you still want to drink with me, considering what happened last time,” Roddy commented, taking a swig of his alcoholic beverage.
“What?” Optimus looked confused. “I don't remember anything. What happened?”
The younger Prime looked distinctively uneasy. “Uh, maybe I shouldn't have said anything.”
“Too late. Spill it!” Optimus growled.
Roddy cringed. “Okay, okay. Well, the last time I let you drink this stuff, you downed three glasses of it. I didn't think anything of it – I drink that much and scarcely get buzzed – but it seemed to go right to your head. It was weird. You started singing to yourself, and it was a really perverted song. Glad you taught it to me.” Optimus gave him a withering glare. “Anyway, you started complaining about how your armor was really constrictive and you were tired of wearing it, so you ripped it off and threw it on the floor and paraded around my quarters naked.” Optimus gaped at his friend. Why did this crap seem to happen to him when Roddy was around? That 'bot was nothing but trouble! He attracted it like a magnet.
“Anyway, you weren't causing any trouble, so I just let you wander around. You really seemed to get a kick out of being naked. But then you decided to share your newfound liberation with the rest of the Autobot army.” Optimus choked on his sip of Energon, and Roddy thwacked him on the back. “I helpfully suggested that you start with the femmes' rec room.”
“Roddy! I swear I'm going to kill you!” Optimus thundered. Rodimus knew full well that males were never, ever allowed in the femmes' rec room. It was the one place they had staked out for their own, to preserve their own special identity. Any mech that dared enter suffered a very painful fate.
Rodimus fell into a shameless fit of laughter. “You thought it was a wonderful idea and were almost to the door by the time I could catch you. I didn't know how to discourage you, so I finally told you they didn't want you there. You thought it was because you were ugly and started crying like a baby. It was really pathetic.”
The red and blue Autobot's hand clenched convulsively around his glass. Roddy's days were definitely numbered.
Rodimus wisely decided not to mention that he had been sorely tempted to tape the spectacle for posterity. “The only way I could cheer you up was to suggest you go take your naked aft to see Magnus on Earth.”
Optimus huffed. “You sure know how to make the best of a bad situation, Roddy.” He was busy thinking of the best way to cause Roddy pain. Lots of pain.
Rodimus grinned, taking it as a compliment. “Again, you thought it was a great idea and wanted to go see him right away. But before you could get out the door, you suddenly ran into the waste disposal area and puked all over the place.”
“Shoulda done it on your recharge berth,” Optimus grumbled.
“You were so sick I was afraid to leave you alone, so I heaved your fat aft on the recharge berth and slept beside you. In the morning, you were so disoriented I was tempted to pretend something had happened between us, and ask if it was as good for you as it was for me, but I thought it would be going too far.”
“Way too far.” Roddy had to die. The sooner the better. “I don't know why I drink with you, Roddy. It's just asking for trouble.”
“I'm just irresistible,” the young Prime said jokingly.
“I'm gonna kick your irresistible self where the solar winds don't blow!”
Roddy's grin stretched around his head. He loved trading insults with Optimus; it showed he had a sense of humor. “So what's up in your life? Everything going okay with your lady?”
“Yeah.” The elder Prime sighed and took a long drought of the high-grade Energon, feeling it burn slightly as it slid down his throat. He hadn't even finished half of the glass, but he already had a good buzz. Roddy was right. He really couldn't handle this stuff. “That's what I came to talk to you about.”
The flame-colored Autobot was intrigued but knew he should proceed with caution. Optimus Prime guarded his privacy very jealously, and if Roddy pressed too hard he would just clam up. “That so? Problems?”
“Not exactly.” Optimus was unsure how to proceed, so he took a moment to sip at his intoxicating beverage. It was a poor replacement for courage, but he was brave enough to face down an entire Decepticon platoon, and it wouldn't help him in this situation. “Things between us are… changing, and I'm not sure how to deal with it. Nothing bad, or even unpleasant. Just different.”
Rodimus tried to get the gist of the statement and failed. Optimus could be very enigmatic at times. “Sorry, Op, I don't quite get your meaning.”
Optimus rubbed his face. “I've been feeling different about her lately. Things between us are, well…” there was a long pause, “… progressing.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I'm having thoughts about her that I shouldn't. Thoughts that are inappropriate. She's been wonderful to me, and I shouldn't be thinking about her in that way.”
Ahhh, now this was starting to make more sense. “Well, that certainly explains a lot. You've been so preoccupied of late that I was beginning to think that something was wrong.” He tried not to smile at the idea of Optimus having lustful thoughts. “If it's advice you're looking for, you've come to the right place. Welcome to Roddy's palace of love.”
Optimus threw him a look of disgust. Sometimes he thought that Roddy needed a leash. “Roddy, I don't know how to deal with this. I keep wondering if it's right. After all, she's not much older than you. How can I… feel this way… about someone that's almost the same age as my son? For the love of Primus, I'm almost twice her age!”
“You didn't have a problem with this before,” Rodimus said reasonably. Age usually wasn't a big deal to beings with such longevity as the Transformers. “Look at it this way: you were non-functional for four million years. That should even the score a bit.”
“Technicality, Roddy. But I do see your point. I guess the age gap really isn't at the root of the problem.”
“So what is? Look, Optimus, I don't want to pry – I can understand your desire to keep this private – but I need to know more about this if I'm going to help you.” Rodimus set aside his glass, devoting his whole attention to his friend.
Optimus chewed on his lip component in embarrassment. He knew that Roddy would keep any secret that he told him – he wouldn't have lasted long as a Prime if he didn't know how to keep his mouth shout – but that didn't make this any easier. “Well, over the past few months, the relationship has, erm, well, become physical. I'm torn, Roddy. Part of me thinks I shouldn't be doing this, but the other part… doesn't want to stop. It gets so I can't even think straight.” He looked down, fingering his glass. “I'm just not sure what I should do next. I haven't done this so long. And it's not like I've got the experience you do, Roddy.” His voice grew so soft it was nearly inaudible. “Besides that one, uh, incident with Phantasma, Alita has been my one and only.”
Rodimus tried to not gape too much. He should have known, or at least suspected! The incident in question with Phantasma was, as it turned out, the way Roddy was created. Optimus had said it was the only time he had strayed, and Rodimus had a very strong suspicion that the Matrix had arranged that little episode so that the Chosen One could be created. But still, it hadn't sunk in that Optimus had had only one real lover. “No wonder you're having so much trouble,” he breathed. “About Alita, was she… your first?”
Optimus looked away, and Roddy was afraid he'd pushed too far. “Yes, she was,” the whispered reply finally came. “Seems like it was just yesterday. It's not something I'll ever forget. Not something most people forget.” He gave Rodimus a sidelong glance, and it was Roddy's turn to be uncomfortable. That one glance showed that Optimus understood everything, although Roddy had never breathed a word to him. Arcee had been his first, and he had been well on his way to falling in love with her when fate had intervened. He had become Rodimus Prime, and she had decided that Springer was better suited for her. Ever since then, he'd been unwilling to settle down, looking more for Miss Right Now than Miss Right. But sometimes he still thought of Arcee and wondered what could have been.
Optimus rubbed his face, trying to sort out his thoughts. “I just can't get Andromeda out of my mind, Roddy! She's all I think about when I'm awake, and I dream about her when I'm recharging. And the dreams are… not something I'd ever like her to find out about. Every date ends the same now, with both of us on the sofa in her quarters or mine, doing things that I feel embarrassed even thinking about, but I… still can't go through with it. Something always stops me, and it's getting to the point where I can't take it anymore. My mind and my body are telling me two different things. I'm so frustrated I could explode!” He ran his hands over the sides of his head, wishing he could relieve the pent-up tension.
Rodimus stroked his chin with his hand thoughtfully. He could make a pretty fair bet how Optimus was relieving that tension, but he'd never call him on it. The poor guy was embarrassed enough already, and there was no need to make it worse. “How – how far has all of this gone?”
He was sure that Optimus was not going to respond to such an intrusive question, but his friend surprised him once again. “Too far.” A pause. “Not far enough.” He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. “You really want specifics, huh? All right. I'll tell you.” And he did…
/ / / / /
“My heart, it's beating 'Don't say no'
My head keeps saying 'Take it slow'”
-- “Impulsive” –Wilson Phillips
They had been in his quarters this time, but the scene was pretty much the same. They were in a clinch, holding each other very close. Optimus felt his fuel pump pounding, his lifeblood roaring in his head. His thoughts were a jumble; he couldn't think, didn't *want* to think. All he could focus on was his hands on her, and her hands on him, and how right all of this felt. He didn't ever want it to stop… but as her hand trailed down his abdomen, he knew it wasn't right. Not yet. “W-wait,” he stammered, catching her hand in his own. “Please… not just yet. I want to save that… for later.” He cursed himelf for being so inept. He squeezed her hand in his own and kissed it. He tried very hard not to look at her exposed chest – his doing, he knew, though he scarcely remembered it. She looked so confused as he searched desperately for the words to explain himself. “It's not that I don't want to… I just want to wait a bit more.” He looked at her earnestly. “I want things between us to be perfect. Special.”
Her uncertainty slowly changed to a shy smile. “No man has ever said no to me before.” Her surprise was evident in the tone of her voice. “It's sweet that you want to wait. I want it to be special too.” Her smile turned a bit teasing. “Just don't make me wait too long.”
Optimus echoed her smile. “You're not an easy femme to say no to.” He kissed her gently, trying not to get sucked back in. “It won't be long, I promise.”
/ / / / /
“You mean she was willing, and you turned her down?!”
Optimus winced at Roddy's shout. “You make it sound like it's some sort of crime. Honestly, I just want to make sure that everything is right between us.”
“You know what, Op?” Roddy shook his head. “You're a tease. That's all you are. To her, and yourself. You want to know why you're so frustrated? It's your own fault, you know. It's your own damned moral code that won't let you touch her, and you'd better find a way around it, or the relationship will fail. Mark my words.” His tone softened. “I'm not trying to be mean here, Optimus. I just want you to listen to reason. This… impasse that you've reached, it's not healthy. Neither of you are happy with it. You can't go forward, and you can't go back. If your relationship doesn't evolve, it will die. She won't wait for you forever, you know. She'll be patient with you, probably more than you deserve, but in the end she won't be able to stand it anymore.” Roddy took his frustrated friend by the shoulders. “I know you want to be a gentleman, but there's no gentlemanly way to go about this. It's all or nothing, and if you don't see this to the end, you'll have nothing at all. And I don't want to see that happen to you.”
Optimus Prime was silent for a long, long time. Rodimus was afraid that he had really angered him this time. “I see,” he finally sighed. “I don't necessarily agree, Roddy, but I'll concede that you have more experience in these matters than I. I promise that I'll think about what you've said.” He stood and turned to go. “Good night, Rodimus.”
“Good luck,” Roddy whispered as the doors slid shut.