I do not own Transformers, only my plot and OC(s).
In the blink of an eye, the week was gone. Like dust in the wind - a good kind of dust, mind you. Like that of a pixie.
A day of scientific learning had turned into a vacation's perfect end when it expanded into the week. Que had been wonderful and Ratchet very supportive despite the delay it caused his stations repair. I had learned so much from the two of them and their lessons had left me pining for the old days, when I had been homeschooled. Back when lessons were fun, naps were welcomed and the teachers patient… to a degree.
The only detriment to having spent so much time with Que was the utter neglect it had resulted in the Wreckers' assignment. A fact I hardly lamented. Had I cared I would have been working on their project right now, but visiting the Library of Congress on my final day seemed like a better option.
Not to mention it was more educational.
I had found a few books on automatons and had invaded a research room, with the use of my badge, to read them. It was quiet, save the light tapping of researchers on their laptops. They were all too engrossed with their work to pay anyone else heed.
I couldn't help but wonder when Ironhide would return. It was nearly one o'clock. He had dropped me off several hours ago to head out with Optimus and Chromia on patrol. It wasn't all that unusual, really, but the timing was curious. Many of the others had been sent off on missions in the last day or two. Even Que was off somewhere and he was seldom asked to do anything beyond research and development.
Something was up.
I had refrained from asking questions. I came here to stay out of the way, but I was still curious. And as fascinating as these books were, I wanted to spend my remaining hours with Ironhide. There was no telling when I would see him again. How long did it take to complete a routine patrol job around D.C. anyway? If it weren't for the silence in our spark link I would have worried something had happened.
I only had one day left.
I debated walking down to the Smithsonian sector just to take a break. I had already filled a good portion of notebook and was getting to the point where I wasn't retaining the information anymore. The weather was atrocious though, unless it had cleared up since my arrival. The last thing I wanted to do was slip and break something walking down the street. That would really get the Wreckers going.
Can' send her anywhere, can we? Leadfoot would say.
Utterly hopeless, Roadbuster would add.
And it would turn into a dark hearted spat from there, with Topspin laughing his tailpipe off in the background.
I really needed to come up with a way of getting back at them. Something that wouldn't hurt them, per say, but would forever serve as a reminder of how I was a force to be reckoned with. Something that was diabolical.
The fire alarm jarred my thoughts back into reality. Researchers looked around in confusion.
My heart filled with fear and memories of a not-so-distant nightmare flooded back. The intense heat. The choking smoke.
No, I scolded myself. I wasn't going to think about that. This was not the same. Some kid had probably just pulled the alarm. It wasn't a real. It wasn't worth panicking over. And even if there was a fire somewhere in the building the chances of it getting out of control were next nil… right?
I decided it wasn't worth taking any chances over, and it definitely wasn't worth worrying Ironhide about. It was something silly, plain and simple. A stupid alarm.
Lunch, I thought, We're going to have lunch. This will be all sorted out while I'm gone.
I had medicine to take, too, and with any luck Ironhide would be ready to pick me up by the time I was finished.
I quickly packed up my things and headed for the door. Several of the researchers were doing the same. They were passing similar statements between one another – it was probably just a glitch in fire system. No big deal.
There wasn't the faintest hint of smoke in the air when we stepped into the hall. Only the obnoxiously bright hazard lights greeted us as we made for the exit.
"Bet someone burnt their toast in the break room," I said, trying to pass off a joke.
Two of the men ahead of me laughed. One even made a comment about burnt coffee, which sparked a few more laughs and helped ease my mind.
Everything was alright.
A door exploded off its hinges directly in front of us. I was knocked off my feet.
I didn't even have time to react before a giant metal bird burst into the hall with its guns poised to strike.