These Paths We Tread (Autobot x OC)

XXV. Dog Days Are Over

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As it turned out, she only spent a little while talking with Sam. It wasn’t because things had gone wrong. In fact, things had gone inexplicably right. She could barely contain her laughter over how shocked he had been to actually have her pick up, and then things got a little awkward for him seeing as he didn’t actually know what to say now that she had. She’d helped him out by casual asking what was up. That flabbergasted him for moment before he finally said something, and then they started talking like normal. By the end of it all, it was as if they were just like they used to be. Then, at the very end he became quiet, and she waited as he tentatively asked if they were okay. She told them they were, that she missed him, and that she would see him soon, too.

The moment the phone was hung up she’d let out a happy squeal and rolled around a bit. She had her best friend back! She had her Sam back! She didn’t care that things had the potential to repeat themselves, even though she was pretty sure they wouldn’t. Not this time. Not if she could help it. Besides, she wasn’t in love with him, anymore, so there was no need for her to hold back certain things. She could be as blunt as she wanted, and she would make sure he knew when he was being a jerk. Things would work out. She was sure of it.

Unfortunately, at that point she didn’t really know what else to do, so she decided she should apologize to a certain yellow-armored Autobot with the most adorable optics ever for ignoring him so long, and also to thank a certain white knight for always being right. Both replied quickly enough, though it was only Bumblebee that she started to really talk to, and even ended up playing a few games with him before he made her go to sleep—he knew how early NEST soldiers got up. She agreed, and, despite her new flux of happiness energy, she did manage to hit the hay.

Her mood was still good the next morning when Lennox had come a-knocking, and she was all too certain the day would go much, much better than the previous three.

Which was why, as she stood staring unhappily at the sulking—or it looked that way to her—Decepticon sitting behind an Energon field, she wondered how the hell it had come to this.

And here I was hoping to have a good day with Marissa, Catherine grumbled inwardly as she folded her arms across her chest for the billionth time. It turned out the bosses of her boss’s boss had other plans, and wanted to begin interrogating and “evaluating” Barricade now instead of a week later. That, of course, meant she had to be in the room, recording everything she heard on a government-provided laptop, and could also ask questions if they seemed fit. The government might eventually give her questions later on, but for now it was going to be left to the Autobots to get the necessary information. It was a good thing that Jazz was the interrogator then.

Just from the blank, uncaring stare Barricade had as he sat with his shoulders slumped, it would probably take a lot to get anything useful from the mech. She hoped he could sense her little icy daggers of hate that she was mentally burrowing into him. While yes, he maybe deserved a second chance and she had said she might give him said chance, she would still be bitter about their first meeting. He’d tried to kill her for no good reason other than to find the glasses, which was technically a pretty good reason considering their ultimate goal, but she refused to think so. The asshole didn’t deserve it.

“Alright, Barricade. Time we got ta startin’ this show,” Jazz spoke suddenly, catching both her and their prisoner's attention as he strolled over in front of the mech. The Decepticon did not stand, and his gaze soon returned to normal as he grunted in response.

“So, here’s the deal: Ya tell us all ya know ‘bout what’s goin’ on with the ‘Cons and we see if we can’t get ya outta that cell and in ta a room. ‘Course ya gonna have ta have a guard around ya, but it’s better than accidentally brushin’ in ta this Energon field ‘o yours and havin’ yaself scorthed up, am I right?”