A/N: Well hi there... *Ducks as heavy objects are thrown at my head* I can't apologize enough for my absense over the past 2 months. Oh jeez, 2 months... All I can say is that I've started my GCSE's now, and they're so important that I can't just put my homework aside and write like I used to. Now I really have to work hard because this is going to define my future, people. I'm afraid I'm not even back for good. I just found myself with a few spare hours and although my Twilight fic needs updating much more badly than this, I just couldn't resist and it feels so good to be writing about Priscilla again. I know this isn't exactly my best work, but don't kill me people. For now it's all I've got. So, read on, and I hope you enjoy!;)
Disclaimer: Too bored to come up with anything funny so simply: anything you recognize isn't mine.
Dedication: all my loyal fans 3
"Good evening, Miss Night," the soldier said, saluting her, as she entered her room.
Priscilla rolled her eyes. He'd obviously been waiting in there for her since Optimus had sent her up to command to find out where her room was.
"If you salute me again, I'll let my powers loose on you," she warned, her face a mask of deadly seriousness.
"W...What?" he stuttered. "I thought you had no control over them!"
"That's just what I've lead them"—she pointed to the ceiling as if the Autobots were above them—"to think," she said with a conspiratorial wink. "Don't go telling them I said that, either."
"Of course not!" he said, voice slightly squeakier than it had been.
"So you've been assigned to keep an eye on me?" she wondered, looking around her new lodgings.
The room was by no means what she was used to, but it would do for now. A double bed was the main feature to the room, with pieces of furniture pushed up against the two walls along side it. On either side of the bed sat a small table with a reading lamp and three draws. A small door led to what Priscilla desperately hoped was an en-suite. She stepped around the sandy haired soldier and flopped down on the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable. Curling her legs up underneath her, she focused her attention back on her babysitter.
"Yes, Miss. Major Lennox and Optimus Prime appointed the job to me because they knew they could trust me, Miss," he said proudly, puffing up his chest.
Priscilla raised an eyebrow at the man. He could hardly be called a man; he couldn't have been older than 20, straight out of wherever soldiers trained these days. Optimus had clearly picked him because, at his age, soldiers were painfully loyal to their commanders, desperate to rise among the ranks. He was too young to have seen how harsh life could be. Too young to be corrupted by its evils. But it also meant he was naive. And that meant he was putty in Priscilla's capable hands.
"I can see that. You must be a very good soldier for them to trust you so. I bet they've told you all sorts of important things?"
"Well yes, but nothing I can disclose with you, Miss, I'm afraid."
"Oh, there's no need to be formal; just call me Priscilla. What should I call you, anyway? I can't believe it slipped my mind to ask!"
"You can call me Jenkins, M—I mean Priscilla."
"You don't have a first name? No? Well Jenkins it is, then. So, surely you can tell me how long it should be until we arrive in Cambodia? That's not classified, right?" she said, throwing him what she hoped was a winning smile.
"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt... In around 36 hours."
"So, not tomorrow morning, but the morning after?"
"Around then, yes. Why is it relevant?" Jenkins asked, clearly confused.
"Oh, no real reason. You know, today has really worn me out,"—she pretended to stifle a yawn—"so I think I'll have an early night. See you in the morning, Jenkins."
Priscilla waved at him before heading towards the door. She opened it hurriedly and let out a girly squeal when she was greeted by a bathroom. It felt like days since she'd brushed her teeth, washed or topped up her lipstick. Better yet, her beloved suitcase had been placed carefully against the wall. Grinning widely, Priscilla entered the familiar code and grabbed her make-up bag, toiletries, a pair of silver silk pajamas and a fresh set of underwear. Once changed, however, she saw the straits that she was in, and her happiness quickly turned to despair:some of her foundation had worn away, her lips were coated by only a faint pink colour and her eyeliner had smudged to the point where massive, millimeter-long bags hung below her eyes.
Determined to set the horrors right, she withdrew a bottle of make-up remover and a pad from her make-up bag and set about rubbing off her stained make-up and removing the treacherous black marks under her eyes. Once it was all gone, she coated her lips in heavy lipstick until they were a bright salmon pink colour and then she redid her foundation, despite the fact that she was only going to bed. Well. That was what she'd led Jenkins to believe, anyway.
After digging around in her suitcase for a moment, Priscilla found a pair of chunky socks and slipped them on. Satisfied that she looked as if she was about to go to bed, she opened the white painted door, and blinked in surprise.
"Jenkins! Why are you still here?"
Didn't he understand the meaning of privacy?
"I was given the task to look after you, Miss. I'm to watch you all the time, and you must always be under my supervision. You're restricted to your room, the mess hall and the gym. Everywhere else is off limits to you."
"What? That's ridiculous! You can't lock me up like I'm some kind of criminal!" she shouted.
She knew it! She knew they'd have someone watch her, keep tabs on her behavior to make sure she didn't do anything too rash. Her anger boiled under the surface, ready to rear its head. As she clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists, the reading light bulb sparked, then exploded.
"Must be a short fuse." Jenkins frowned before turning back to Priscilla, who'd gone white as a sheet and was staring at the lamp in shock. "I'm just following my orders, Miss."
Did I just do that? Priscilla thought, panicking.
When this whole thing had started, when she'd been told she had magic powers, it had seemed like a joke. But with each and every incident, it got more real. Priscilla took a deep breath. If she didn't calm down, she'd never convince him to leave her alone, and then she'd never be able to find Ratchet and get to the bottom of what had just happened. She refused to be kept a prisoner when she'd done nothing wrong. She would find the robot-turned-doctor and she would find out what was going on with her body.
"Seriously? You can't give me any privacy, not even while I sleep? Can't you just wait outside my door? It's not like I can go anywhere!"
"I really shouldn't..."
"Oh go on. Please? You can lock the door if you like?"
"Fine. But if I hear anything that sounds like you're planning a way out, I'm coming straight back in here. Understood?"
"Yep. Bye, Jenkins!" Priscilla dismissed the solider, who was shaking his head. Clearly, he thought this was a bad idea. He was right.
The second he was gone, she ducked back into her en-suite and rummaged around in her suitcase until she found what she was looking for. A hair slide. In theory, a simple object used to hold hair in a certain place. In reality, something that Priscilla was rather adept at using to pick locks. Like the locks her father had put on his whiskey cabinet.
She skipped back over to her door and slipped the pin into the lock. She fiddled about, moved a few pieces of metal about, then nodded in satisfaction when she heard it click. She danced to one side of the door, and as she'd hoped, Jenkins threw the door open, having heard the lock.
"Thanks!" Priscilla sang, grabbing the keys from his hand and nipping round the side of the door.
Before he could comprehend what had happened, Priscilla had shut the door on him and locked himin, effectively trapping her babysitter inside her own playpen.
"Hey! Hey! Miss Night—let me out of here at once!"
"I'll be back soon, Jenkins! I'd keep it down if I were you. You'll be in more trouble than me if Lennox found I'd slipped past you already," she said smugly, knowing she had him there.
Aspiring to be the best he could be, the last thing Jenkins needed was his Major knowing he'd been unable to prevent an un-armed, completely defenseless civilian from leaving a room.
Safe in the knowledge that Jenkins wouldn't cause any trouble, Priscilla let her mind wander to her next problem—finding Ratchet while remaining undetected by anyone who knew her. Of course, all of the soldiers aboard would have been warned that she shouldn't be out of Jenkins's sight, but how hard would it be to convince one that she'd woken up from her nap with a terrible headache and she simply had to find Ratchet? Priscilla smirked at the thought. Men were so easy.
But it would still be best if she could find the medic without being noticed, so, keeping to the shadows as much as she could, Priscilla followed the route she hoped she'd taken with Tami that afternoon. She didn't pass many people on her journey, and although she gained a few odd looks (most likely because of her attire), no-one recognized her. Within 10 minutes she'd reached what she recognized as Ratchet's lab. She peered in through the small window in the door and saw Ratchet reading something intently on his large screen that was set up on the wall.
Turning the handle, Priscilla was relieved to find she didn't need to break in. She stepped into the room.
"Hey, Ratchet!" she called, swallowing the nervous feeling that rose in her throat.
"Priscilla?" he said, turning round to face her. "What are you doing here?"
At least he didn't sound too angry. Yet.
"Look, I know I'm not supposed to leave that soldier's sight—which is stupid, by the way. You can't keep me under surveillance like I'm some common criminal." Seeing Ratchet was getting annoyed, Priscilla cut to the chase." What I mean is, I just blew up a bulb."
Any annoyance that was building in his metallic face drained away, and Ratchet walked over to her.
"Explain exactly what happened."
Priscilla recounted her tale, from when she'd found Jenkins in her room to the moment she'd stepped into his research and medical facility.
Ratchet thought for a minute before speaking.
"The only common variable in all three incidents—"
"Wait, three? I've only punched that bag and blew up a bulb?" Priscilla questioned.
"We believe the incident on the treadmill, when you were back at N.E.S.T, was a result of your powers, too, Priscilla." Ratchet explained.
Stunned into silence, Priscilla stood and waited for him to continue.
"As I was saying, the only thing that links the three incidents is the fact that each time, you've been angry. Don't ask me how it works, because I don't understand it. But somehow, when you're angry and your heart rate accelerates, the extra oxygen in your blood stream reacts with something and causes your powers to activate; clearly just for as long as your heart rate stays high, which is why you could run for so long."
"So, all I have to do is get myself worked up and then I can kick some ass? Wicked!"
"It's not that simple, Miss Night. No illusion of anger could cause this. You would have to be genuinely angry for this effect to repeat itself."
"Should I try experimenting with it?"
"No! No. Whatever you do, try and avoid situations which will anger you. You have no way of controlling your power and we have no idea what it will do next. While you're here, shall I take a quick look at your ankle?"
"If you have to. Just don't go poking me with that ridiculous torture instrument again."
"Did it hurt while you were performing your daring little escape?"
"No, actually, which is weird. It was hurting like hell earlier..."
Priscilla climbed up onto the same bed she'd laid on earlier, and Ratchet ran the scanner over her again. His metal eyebrow ridges formed a frown.
"That's odd. Your ankle is fine. No damage, no sign of injury."
"Well, it was only a minor injury, right?" Priscilla shrugged, failing to see what Ratchet was getting at.
"Yes, but it shouldn't have healed this quickly."
"Well, I guess I'm just lucky then," she shrugged, hoping off the table.
"Look, Ratchet, I know this is asking a lot considering I've not exactly been nice to you in the past, but can we keep this to ourselves?"
"Priscilla, I don't see how that's possible. I must inform Optimus of my discovery."
"Well, could you do so without telling him about this little visit? Say that Jenkins, the guy who was meant to keep an eye on me, came and told you what happened? I'm in enough trouble as it is..." she looked down and fiddled with the hem of her pajama top.
"This trouble you speak of. It is your own doing, Priscilla. You disobeyed direct orders; you boarded this plane when you should have stayed on the base."
"Fine!" Priscilla snapped. "Do whatever you want! Tell Optimus that I was here! And while you're at it, why don't you tell him if he's going to bother getting me watched to get someone who's not still in high school to do it!"
"In actual fact, Priscilla, it was Major Lennox who insisted you were watched. He didn't think it was safe to leave you alone."
"Who's he to meddle in my business?" she spat, slamming her fist down on the table next to her.
Her eyes widened when she left a dent in it. All the anger drained from her in a second, she felt her heart rate slow down, and suddenly she realized what a diva she must have sounded. It took one look at Ratchet's satisfied face to work out what had just happened.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" she said, annoyance clear in her tone.
The Autobot shrugged nonchalantly.
"I had to test my theory."
"Well, congratulations. You've just resulted in me ruining one of your tables. Really, well done!" she said sarcastically. "And anyway! You said it was too dangerous to experiment with my powers. Isn't that what you've just done?"
"In a way yes. But it would be more dangerous not to know what would set you off, as we'd have no way of avoiding situations that would activate your powers. I now know I was correct. It is your anger that triggers your power. You should return to your room and let that poor soldier out, and I will go and find Optimus and explain what we have discovered."
"There's really no way to leave me out of the story now, is there?" Priscilla said glumly, already knowing the answer.
"I'm afraid not."
Priscilla nodded and left the room quickly. As she trudged back to her room, she was engulfed by the overwhelming feeling that the only thing she'd achieved was to land herself in even bigger trouble.
Massive thanks to:
Katy-alice Cullen- heyya! How was the holiday? Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it:)
Noella50881- Thanks, here's the rather late update...
erika001- A new reviewer! Yay! I'm glad you're enjoying Priscilla's adventures, and hope you keep on reviewing:)
Guest- thanks! it was so much fun to write her original rebellion in the early chapters;)
I really don't blame you guys if you boycott reviweing this after my absense, but a few reviews-good or bad- may help to re-inspire me, so pretty please review!;)
Spirited Mare. :)