literature

One Human, One Spark 19

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Wheeljack was the first to do something, which was say weak and shaky, “Miko?” He tried to open his chest plates, but he found he couldn’t. Despite that being alarming, he was . . . calm, actually. He was still intaking rather heavily from the stress of the ordeal, but otherwise, was strangely peaceful.

When he couldn’t override whatever it was keeping his chest plates closed, Wheeljack’s servo jumped to his chassis, and he tried to manually force the doors back open. Despite undoing the latch and pulling until it hurt, the doors didn’t budge. Worry slashed over him.

“Miko? Miko, Babe, are you all right?”

Ratchet clamped a servo on his shoulder, and Wheeljack tensed up, coiled up like a cobra for the strike. An answering spike of activity of his spark answered his defensiveness. “Calm down,” Ratchet ordered, not taking into account how Wheeljack was reacting he was so worried about the human trapped inside. “Stay as calm as possible. The more steady and calm your spark, the better.”

Wheeljack clenched his jaw. Telling him to be calm at a time like this!?

“Miko,” Ratchet called towards Wheeljack’s chassis. “Miko, can you hear me?”

A muffled, but answering, “Yeah!” met their audio receptors, and Wheeljack let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Are you all right?” Ratchet asked next.

“Yeah!” There was a pause. Her muted voice was shouting to be heard from the inside of Wheeljack’s chest. “Um, it’s really bright in here! I can’t open my eyes! And it’s hot!”

“Hot?” Ratchet said immediately. “Hot enough to burn you?”

“No!”

“Good. Try to stay as far away from his spark as possible. We’re going to get you out.”

“Uh, sure!”

“It’s not opening,” Wheeljack told Ratchet heedlessly, spark still pulsing with unease.

Ratchet gave a perturbed grumble and reached for the hidden latch to open Wheeljack’s spark, attempting to pry open the chamber.

Wheeljack couldn’t stop the next thing that happened either.

His spark roared to life with white-hot activity, making Miko shriek from within. Wheeljack gave a growl that rattled his chest as he felt his spark react in a violent, defensive anger. The invasion attempt infuriated him, and he could feel Ratchet’s hand attempting to open the chamber and STEAL. HIS. SPARKLING!

With territorial fury, Wheeljack surged up on primal instinct and slammed Ratchet into the wall. His optics blazed nearly neon-white and a threatening rumble rolled up his chassis.

“MY humanspark!” he roared dangerously, servos clenching on Ratchet until his metal crunched beneath his grip.

A tense cloud of silence shrouded the silo. Wheeljack’s rapid venting was the only sound that penetrated through the veil, and Ratchet held perfectly still, gauging Wheeljack’s instability. Finally, a muffled voice broke the silence.

“Wheeljack! Wheeljack, it’s really hot in here now! I mean, it’s getting REALLY hot!”

Ratchet eyed the Wrecker whose dancing optics were finally calming a little, anchoring himself back to reality. “Let go,” he said evenly. “Unless you want to risk burning Miko to a crisp. We’ve got to get her out.”

After a moment of venting sharply, Wheeljack gave a curt nod as he tried to control his raging emotions—where the hell had THAT come from?

Ratchet moved off quickly, muttering something complicated to himself about how to get Wheeljack’s chassis to open, but Wheeljack thought he had already figured it out. It was his emotions getting in the way—he was stressing and possessive to the point of dangerous. Taking a deep breath, Wheeljack let it roll off of him, and he toggled the latch. True to his thoughts, the chest plates opened easily and his raging spark of before settled. He plucked Miko out with ease, leaving a sputtering Ratchet bewildered at his mood swings.

Note to self, Wheeljack thought, don’t get ruled by emotion.

“What just happened.”

Wheeljack looked up to where he saw a puzzled and scared Mrs. Davis looking at them with apprehension. He looked down at Miko, back up to her host mom, and finally said with a light shrug. “Well, I didn’t expect that one. I guess you could call it an episode. That’s what happens when you take her from me.”

He started to put Miko down, but Ratchet’s angry snarl of, “Don’t you put her down!” caused Wheeljack to jerk back up in shock.

“Doc?”

“Don’t call me that! And if you think you can just put her down and walk away after THAT you are SORELY mistaken!”

The CMO whipped around and scanned Wheeljack’s spark again, and Wheeljack blinked down on Miko who stared up equally bewildered. Ratchet was really . . . piqued. Pissed off. Wheeljack didn’t move as he considered the last time he had gotten on Ratchet’s bad side and met with an evil wrench.

The medic grumbled angrily to himself, and Wheeljack arched a brow before looking down at Miko. Her big brown eyes were wide, and she gave a hesitant shrug. Wheeljack shrugged back before looking at the worried Mrs. Davis.

“It really is life and death for you, isn’t it?”

It stung to be that dependent on someone else to live, but Wheeljack knew it was true, despite all misgivings. He gave a nod and said, “Guess so.” He snorted. “Great. I’m getting all needy now.” He jabbed a finger down at Miko. “This is your fault, know that?”

Before Miko could come back with her own snarky remark, Ratchet whirled with his optics pinned to his arm, double-checking all of Wheeljack’s levels. “Mrs. Davis,” he said brusquely to her, “I do not care what your husband says. This is a doctor and his patient, and Wheeljack needs Miko. I am here by forcing Miko and Wheeljack to keep each other company for a minimum of one hour each day.”

Wheeljack, befuddled at Ratchet’s train of thought, blurted the first thing that came to his mind.

“What? You can’t just go prescribing human, Ratchet!”

“I just did,” he replied smartly back. As he compared scans at the computer, he added in a grumble, “Make that hour two . . .”

Miko suddenly grinned. “You mean Wheeljack HAS to stick with me?”

The implications of that suddenly hit Wheeljack too. He gave a hearty but relieved laugh. “Oh Primus, Ratchet, I could kiss you right now!”

An aggrieved rumble passed through Ratchet. “I would appreciate it if you would keep your distance.”

Wheeljack laughed again, and in his exhilaration, did a very non-Wheeljack-like thing. In a very rare display of public affection, Wheeljack scooped Miko up to his chassis and let a pleased rumble pass through his chest. “Miko, you better get ready, cause it looks like you’re stuck with me!”

Miko squealed with delight and snuggled in close. “Yes!” She pumped her fists into the air before wincing and rubbing her ribs slightly. “Good. Yes!”

Wheeljack looked down at Mrs. Davis, and his optics sparked to life at the smile she was trying to suppress and her disbelieving chuckle. “Wheeljack, I expect to see you around,” she said lightly. Then, she tried to give her severest frown and pointed and wagged a finger at him. “But if you so much as try something funny again . . .”

Wheeljack held up a defeated servo at her threat. “Trust me,” he grumbled, and his optics softened again as he looked down at Miko, “I’ve learned my lesson.” He grinned. “Ready to go, Babe?”

Miko whooped, and as Mrs. Davis protested, “I can drive her,” Ratchet also exploded, “Wheeljack, you don’t need to be transforming yet—!” and Wheeljack whipped himself down into his alternate mode.

He groaned heavily at the fires that ripped across his chassis as his body folded down into the alt mode, and before he could even THINK to drive, Ratchet’s peds were in front of him and a dark scowl. “Back to the medical berth. Now.”

“What?” Wheeljack protested on an irritated snarl. He transformed up again, hissing painfully and putting a hand to his chassis while the other held Miko. “I didn’t do anything!”

Herded by Ratchet, Wheeljack was forced unwillingly back to the medical berth. He sat down petulantly and sat Miko down with a roll of his optics.

“If you didn’t break those welds open, you’ll be lucky. Let me see.”

Wheeljack groaned audibly, this time in protest of Ratchet. He rolled his optics down to Miko. “Go ahead with Mrs. Davis. By the time your back he might be done with me.”

Wheeljack quailed when Ratchet waved his wrench. “Don’t make me use this. Do I make myself clear?”

Wheeljack nodded, energon tanks rolling and processor percolating rapidly at the subdued threat overshadowed by the thousands of things he could do wrong between now and when Miko got back.

“Perfectly.”

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“You should tell me how you joined up with the Wreckers!”

Wheeljack rolled his optics. “That one? I don’t know how much there is to tell . . .”

“C’mon!” Miko groaned next to him on the couch. “It’s GOTTA be a good one! What made you join up with the Wreckers? I bet they had to come to YOU because you were such a great fighter!”

Wheeljack chuckled and leaned against the railing lightly. His ruminations turned inward as he remembered how he had joined up with the Wreckers. “Well . . . It’s not as exciting as the Battle of Darkmount Pass, but . . . I guess I can tell it.”

“Sweet!”

Wheeljack laughed and shook his head at her enthusiasm. “Easy, Babe. I wasn’t a flashy warrior before the War for Cybertron. Before the war, I was just a scientist.”

“Whoa,” Miko breathed. She stood up on the couch and made a camera with her thumbs and index fingers, and after studying him a moment, grinned. “Yeah, I can see it. You and those dorky blinking audio receptors and all.”

Wheeljack rolled his optics at her and crossed his arms. “Easy, Babe. I was a real gentlebot before I joined up with the Wreckers!”

Miko laughed so hard she snorted. “Pfft, right. You? A gentleman? Puh-lease.”

“Oh yeah—” and Wheeljack knuckled her into the couch, making her squeal. “I was a master at explosives! Well, among other things. Most of the time I wasn’t making explosives but my experiments sure made some great ones.”

“So you were a dunce when it came to science?” Miko asked while sitting up.

Wheeljack gave one pronounced, barking laugh. “Don’t let these rough looks fool ya,” he told her, leaning in with a squint of his optics. “I was a real genius in my heyday. Trust me, when I strike it good, I strike it GOLD.”

“And cause more trouble than you’re worth in the long haul!” Ratchet called smartly from his computers.

Wheeljack rolled his optics and pressed a sigh from his pistons. “I swear, if I have to spend one more day with that aggravating medic . . .” Optimus, at least, was perfectly quiet. The commander leaned against the far wall, watching them mildly.

Miko giggled. “Yeah. And I’m sure he’s saying the same thing about you. ‘If I have to spend one more day with that crackpot inventor . . .’”

Ratchet looked over, quirking an incredulous brow at Miko. “Are you mocking me?”

Miko whirled and put her hands on her hips like Ratchet did. “Are you mocking me?”

Wheeljack busted out laughing at her mimicking of Ratchet, altering her voice and everything. Ratchet narrowed his eyes. “You have to be the most juvenile—”

“You have to be the most juvenile—” Miko repeated it so snarky that Wheeljack felt his chest throb a little he laughed so hard.

“That is so rude—!”

“That is so rude!”

“I don’t have to take this from you—”

Miko wrinkled her nose as she mimicked his angry tone. “I don’t have to take this from you—”

“And that’s some way to thank me after getting you back together!”

“And that’s some way to thank me after getting you back together!”

Wheeljack roared with laughter and gave Miko a little fist bump. “Please, Doc, you know if we’re teasing you we love you!”

Ratchet scowled and grumbled as he turned back to his computers. “I could do with a little less love . . .”

That sent both Miko and Wheeljack into more fits of laughter until both were wincing and clutching at their hurting chests. They gave each other sheepish grins.

“Two peas in a pod, eh?”

Miko grinned. “Like always. Anyways, Mr. I’m-A-Great-Inventor, what happened? So you’re a scientist. What made you join the Wreckers?”

Wheeljack straightened and vented sharply. He shook his head. “Oh, man, when I joined the Wreckers . . . Okay. First thing’s first. It was early war. Optimus was still just a green horn leader while Megatron was experienced in battle, a gladiator bringing his fist down on the newly formed Autobots, and bringing his fist down hard. I lived in Crystal City, just southwest of the Well of All Sparks, practically a breeding ground for scientist and new inventions. You remember Ruination?”

Miko’s eyes alighted. “I sure do!”

Wheeljack gave a small laugh and waved her down. “Easy, Babe. Ruination hadn’t been thought of yet. See, the Decepticons were taking down city after city, and Crystal City became their next objective. They swarmed in, attacking in one monstrously aggressive pack that bore down on the city like a pack of dogs.” Wheeljack felt his throat tighten in remembrance of the black day, and he shook his helm. He rocked back on his heels and put his servos on his hips, dimly aware that Arcee and Jack were back, this time with Raf and Bumblebee in tow. Ah, Saturday.

Lost in thought, Wheeljack murmured, “I’ll never forget that day. Running through the streets, lost in the confusion, the bedlam of war—the explosions and gunfire and screams. I don’t know what was worse. But the sickest part . . . It was probably the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Miko’s jaw dropped a little. “B-But . . . Beautiful? How can war be beautiful?”

Wheeljack shook his head again with a heavy grumble. “Miko, Crystal City was the most beautiful city on Cybertron. Oh Primus, the way it would glitter in the mornings when the sun came over the horizon, and the glow of night settling in. This was a city created by Shockwave and his stressed-crystal experiments, and the work was overseen by Shockwave; the labor by the Constructicons.” He gave a bitter laugh and passed his servo over his face. “What sick irony that the Constructicons that made it were the ones to become Devastator and tear it down.”

Miko shuffled, sitting on the couch. “Devastator?”

Wheeljack nodded. “Yeah,” he drawled out roughly. “A combination of Constructicons that towered eons over the rest. That’s where we got the idea of Ruination—something to combat Devastator.” Wheeljack shook his head again, the memories eating away a hole in his already ruined chassis. “Primus, Miko,” he whispered, “it was so hideous but so Primus-slagged beautiful. The way those hands tore through Crystal City’s outer wall without mercy and gave us all a waterfall of sparkling shards.” Unconsciously, Wheeljack’s servo reached up to cup the back of his neck as if he could FEEL the spray of glass on his neck again. “The brilliant way those pristine, ostentatious buildings and sculptures shattered beneath Devastator’s hands and feet, or his energy blasters, those vivid displays of colors . . . The burning of the Refracting Gardens like the Pit’s glittering fires in heaven . . . An inglorious and magnificent fusion of art and violence.”

Wheeljack felt his shoulders dip, and he stared at his servos, not knowing whether he would rather rue the day he had seen Crystal City’s destruction or awe at the sheer beauty he had beheld. Once again that feeling of helplessness crept up inside him. His hands clenched. Primus, he had only been able to flee instead of fighting and protecting his home like he should have been! The most beautiful place on Cybertron, fit for the Primes themselves . . . and he was one of the many that did not try to protect it.

“ . . . Jackie?”

He blinked, not realizing he had trailed off. Wheeljack looked up to Miko whose brows were pinched with worry. “You don’t have to tell it if it’s going to bother you,” she said quietly. Her fingers plucked at the back of the couch, and Wheeljack’s spark softened at her worry.

He gave a shrug, saying, “Nah, don’t worry about it. I started it, I might as well finish it. Besides, I knew what I was getting into.” Rolling his shoulders, Wheeljack vented away the misfortune and focused on where he had been—and felt sick in his energon tanks.

“Now, where was I? Running around, arms flailing, trying to get the Pit out of there.” He threw Miko a lopsided grin. “That didn’t turn out too well in my case. I was one of the MANY that were captured.”

Miko perked up then. “You were? I bet you busted out of there. I bet you took down twenty ‘Cons in the process!”

Wheeljack couldn’t help but give a warm laugh at her confidence in him, but he shook his head. “No, Miko, remember? My early days. Nerdy scientist. Guy who’d rather give in than fight back. And these doohickeys,” and he pointed to his audio receptors.

Miko snorted a giggle at that which got him incredulous looks from all of his audience. Raf, sitting dumbfounded, absently pushed up his glasses; Jack absently swiped his hair out of his face. Arcee arched a brow. “What doohickeys?”

Wheeljack grinned. “Me and Miko’s secret.”

*Aw, c’mon!* Bumblebee interjected. *You’ve got to tell us!*

Wheeljack laughed again. “Not on your life,” he said, and waved them all quiet again. “Now, all us captives? We didn’t do so good. Shockwave picked his favorites and sent us all off to his lair—I was one of those.”

Arcee stiffened from across the room. “Shockwave?”

Wheeljack nodded. “And the rest of them, well—” He faltered suddenly before shaking his head and skirting over the issue with, “Well, that doesn’t really matter. Now—”

“What happened to them?” Miko interjected. She sat up straighter, a frown marring her brow. “Did they join the Decepticons?”

Wheeljack pressed out an uncomfortable vent as he considered all Miko had gone through already. Finally, realizing she was growing up and he couldn’t always shield her, as much as that hurt, he said, “The Decepticons lined them all up and, one by one, asked them to join the Decepticons. If they didn’t . . . they were shot on sight.”

Miko and Raf’s eyes popped, each rivaling the other for the largest size. “They did?” Miko finally squeaked.

Raf sputtered, or tried to speak at least, but it was only Jack that could find his words. He leapt to his feet, bursting, “But—That’s not right! They couldn’t just—”

“They could and did,” Wheeljack said bluntly. He gave the horrified human a nod of his helm. “Decepticons don’t have rules. If you don’t join, you’re the enemy, and you’re scrap.”

Jack glared angrily a moment, more angry at what the Decepticons had done than Wheeljack, before he finally muttered, “And where were the Autobots in this? Surely they would have put up a fight!”

“You forget,” Wheeljack said with a shrug, “this was way early in the war. Prime hadn’t been Prime that long and was still picking up generals at this point and corralling who he could to the Autobot cause.” He glanced over at the Prime, but he didn’t argue. “The attack on Crystal City was sudden—no one could have predicted it, and at that point I doubt Optimus would have had enough warriors to hold out the Decepticons—especially with Devastator.”

Jack’s hands clenched, and he turned his face away. “It’s always been that way, hasn’t it?” he muttered. “The ‘Bots have always been outnumbered by ‘Cons.”

Wheeljack nodded, luminous blue optics blinking. “You got it.” He watched the human sink back to a sitting position.

Miko glanced at Jack before looking back to Wheeljack. “So, you were a Shockwave favorite?”

Wheeljack nodded. He vented sharply once. “Yeah. Though I guess he was just picking the brightest minds and the mechs who could handle the most punishment.”

Miko blinked. “Punishment?”

Wheeljack gave as light a shrug as he could. “Yeah. Torture chambers.”

Her jaw literally gaped now. She jumped to her feet on the couch. “The torture chamber?” she squeaked. “What did they do to you? How did you get out? Were you rescued? What was the worst thing they did?”

Wheeljack cringed in remembrance before shaking it off, blotting it from his memory. “Safe to say,” he told her, “Shockwave is sick. And that’s ALL you need to know about my time in the torture chambers.”

“But—”

“But nothing!” he snapped a little harsher than meant. He shook his head. “Trust me, Miko, you don’t want to get into that—I don’t want to get into that.”

Miko slumped back down to her seat, head tucked dutifully. “Yeah, okay . . . Sorry.”

His mouth plates twisted up. “Don’t worry about it, Babe.” He nudged her for good measure before continuing with, “Well, I did manage to escape. After, eh, I dunno, a week or so I managed to get the slip on the guys moving me from my holding cell to the torture chamber. An Autobot scouting team found me wandering outside of Crystal City.”

Miko’s big brown eyes blinked wide. “Is that when you joined the Wreckers?”

“Pit no,” Wheeljack said with a light laugh. “Kidding me? First thing I had to do was deal with a femme medic that was just a bit too uptight for her own sake. Couldn’t do a Primus-slagged thing around her!” Wheeljack crossed his arms and snorted. “She treated me like I was glass. Eventually I had to get the slip of HER and sneak out with a bunch of bots that were heading to a different fort for training drills. That’s when I met Bulkhead.”

Miko jolted to attention. “You did? What was he like! Was he younger? Was he thinner? Did you guys hit it off? I bet you guys swept that training!”

Wheeljack laughed warmly at her confidence and waved her down. He’d never finish around her question asking! “Easy there, Babe. Pretty much, he asked me what I was doing with them since he hadn’t seen me before. I told him about the devil-femme-medic who I swear to this day took lessons from Ratchet—” The medic gave an unamused grunt. Wheeljack grinned. “Heard he was a construction worker. He was real amazed to hear I was a scientist. He’d never met one before.” Wheeljack paused at the fond memories.

“But, besides that, we warmed up to each other real quick. He teased my audio receptors and I got the program terminated shortly later. He was always a big, soft wrecking ball. We trained together, but I always wanted something more. Normal fights and drills . . . they weren’t enough for me.” Wheeljack shifted before shaking his head. “Bulkhead was willing to go wherever I went since we were best pals, so when I heard about Ultra Magnus and his Wreckers, I knew suicidal stuff like that was for me. And THAT is how I joined up with the Wreckers, as anti-climactic as that is.”

Miko grinned. “Nah, it was great!”

Wheeljack snorted. He gave a gesture towards the gaming system. “Now, Miko, are you going to let that last loss to Jack go unchallenged? I’m getting myself an energon cube.”

Miko’s eyes popped. “I forgot!” and she whipped around to point an accusing finger at Jack. “I totally owe you a smack down after that cheap stunt you pulled!”

As Jack and Miko erupted into a flurry of words and snatching up remotes and turning on the games, Wheeljack just rolled his optics and began to stomp down the halls to get an energon cube. All that talking could dry up the vocals, and he was bound and determined to drink an energon cube without Ratchet’s disgusting medical tampering!

“You changed after the torture chambers, didn’t you?”

Wheeljack paused and looked back at Arcee. She had her arms crossed, but not aggressively this time. In fact, a slight pucker of her brows was even visible.

Wheeljack gave a nonchalant shrug. “Any bot that could survive Shockwave would.” She studied him for a long moment, and Wheeljack passed a servo over his face and gave a heavy vent. “Look . . . I know I was an aft. I’d blame it on the high grade, but that wasn’t it. It was just me. So, thanks for trying to talk some sense into me even though I didn’t listen.”

Arcee shifted. “You’re welcome,” she said, almost warily, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of him. Sensing her discomfort, Wheeljack felt his lips drawl into a slow smile.

“What?”

Her optics narrowed in thought, and finally, she asked, “What were you like? Before the war, I mean.”

That slow smile drew out some more, and he held out a servo, “Maybe if you joined me for a batch of high grade in the Jackhammer, I’d be willing to tell.”

She stiffened as if shocked and her optics widened. She frowned severely then. “Not in a million vorns,” she scoffed and turned on her heel and walked back into the main room of the silo.

Wheeljack blinked at the vacant hallway and the snorted.

Femmes . . . I’ll never understand them!

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Wheeljack lied awake on his berth, staring at the ceiling of the Jackhammer.

After transforming earlier that morning without Ratchet’s okay, he had been forbidden to transform until Ratchet cleared him. He had to wheedle and argue with Ratchet until both were bellowing at the top of their lungs before he was allowed to go up to the Jackhammer. In short, Ratchet had gotten fed up and told him to get out.

So now, Wheeljack lied on his berth, spark aching low. Primus, he missed her already? His chronometer read just a little over an hour since she had left for her house with her host mom. Irritably, Wheeljack rolled over and told himself to recharge.

He lied there more. He shifted, slightly uncomfortable with the pains in his chassis, and instead of relaxing, he only seemed to get more and more tense as the slow minutes ticked by. Wheeljack vented and rolled over again, spark pulsing its insatiable longing for a certain human girl.

It took him another hour of badgering and bantering back and forth with himself before Wheeljack told himself, All right, just this once. Just don’t tell Ratchet.

Getting up from his berth, Wheeljack sneaked down to the road and, despite the pain he suffered by transforming when he really shouldn’t be, he drove himself into the city of Jasper and Miko’s subdivision. The pressure squeezing his spark slowly faded some the closer he got, and Wheeljack pulled up and parked at Miko’s curb.

Better.

Relaxing back on his haunches as well as he could, Wheeljack struggled to settle down into a recharge. Finally, still a little uncomfortable, Wheeljack said to himself, Okay, just a little bit closer . . .

Wheeljack pulled into the driveway fully, parking next to Mrs. Davis’s car. Turning off his lights yet again, Wheeljack told himself to recharge. It was twelve at night! He had missed enough hours of recharge as it was.

Still, after figuratively tossing and turning some more, Wheeljack felt the longing pulse of his spark pulling him towards the little house in front of him. Finally, Wheeljack told himself, Just a LITTLE closer . . . just a little . . .

He turned on his engine again, praying to Primus that Mrs. Davis didn’t care that much for her grass as he pulled onto the law precariously close to the house and situated himself beneath Miko’s window.

There. Yeah, that’s better.

This time Wheeljack finally sank into comfortable stasis. Mrs. Davis, hearing the car engine, woke up and looked out the window, but didn’t find anyone there. Puzzled, she went back to bed.

It wasn’t until morning when she went to get the paper that she saw an adorable sight parked beneath Miko’s window.
This was one of those chapters I couldn't write without screaming to the heavens :iconmonkeycuteplz: "IT'S SO CUUUUUUUTE!!" and flapping my hands like crazy. ;) You'll understand when you hit the ending. Agghhh, I MELT every time :love:

Also, I envision Wheeljack much MUCH like his G1 counterpart before the war, before the torture


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Starworksrly's avatar
Still, after figuratively tossing and turning some more, Wheeljack felt the longing pulse of his spark pulling him towards the little house in front of him. Finally, Wheeljack told himself, Just a LITTLE closer . . . just a little . . .
He turned on his engine again, praying to Primus that Mrs. Davis didn’t care that much for her grass as he pulled onto the law precariously close to the house and situated himself beneath Miko’s window.
There. Yeah, that’s better.
This time Wheeljack finally sank into comfortable stasis. Mrs. Davis, hearing the car engine, woke up and looked out the window, but didn’t find anyone there. Puzzled, she went back to bed.
It wasn’t until morning when she went to get the paper that she saw an adorable sight parked beneath Miko’s window.
Hamtaro Mouse Emoji-03 (Squee) [V1] Omg so cute