Unforeseen

Chapter 13

I do not own Transformers, only my OC's.

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Chapter 13

"Morning," I greeted Ron as I stepped out to the truck late that evening. It was nearing one in the morning and the air was icy cold. It was a good thing I had grabbed a heavy sweater before coming out.

"There's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight," I took his outstretched hand and clambered onto the roof of the truck.

"It's already started."

He was right. White lines streaked across the sky before fading out. Sometimes there were only one or two streaks and other times there were several dozen. The tails varied in size, but they lit up the sky all the same. It was breathtaking.

The last time I had watched a meteor shower I had been three years younger. My father had dragged me out of bed in early hours of the morning, claiming he wanted to show me something I would never forget. He was right. I never would forget it nor would I ever forget him.

A hand dropped onto my head, breaking me of my thoughts. "It's time to make new memories," Ron said without looking at me. I didn't need to tell him where my thoughts had run, he always seemed to know.

The faintest hint of a smile formed, "I already am."

What would I have done if Ron had never entered my life? Despite having been a source of aggravation at first, he had become an irreplaceable piece in my life. Even if he was only doing this because of my uncle wishes, as long as he was here it would be alright.

He took his hand away, but not before flicking up my hood. "If you're going to stay out here, keep yourself warm."

I pulled the hood back enough to see. "Yes mom."

Next thing I knew my back was against the truck and Ron's arm was wrapped around my shoulders. He was hovering over me with a disgruntled expression. "Do I look like a mother to you?"

There were at least half a dozen ways to respond, but for some reason his expression warned me not to. This morning he had played the mother hen comment off, actually turning it into something of a game. Perhaps this was just one of those buttons that should not pressed in repetition. But… there was something else there. Something flickered in those blue eyes of his.

"What's wrong?"

Ron closed his eyes and sighed. "Nothing you need to worry about."

So there was something troubling him. He sat up, but I stayed where I was. Streaks still illuminated the sky above, sparking a memory.

"Does it have anything to do with screaming stars?"

There was a moment of silence. I could half see Ron's face from where I lay, he was confused. As realization dawned a look of pure amusement broke free and he laughed.

If I didn't know any better I would swear the truck was trembling beneath me. "What's so funny?"

My question seemed just as humorous to him. And I realized why, "screaming stars, star screams, ice cream, whatever the hell Optimus said. Does it have anything to do with what's bothering you?"

Ron looked back at me, only moderately in control of his fit, "ice cream?"

Jerk. He was making fun of me. "Yes," I mockingly glared, "is your problem edible? Can I chomp into it like chocolate Easter bunny?"

"No, you'd break your teeth."

OK, so whatever the problem was had to be tangible and made of something hard. That only brought the list of things down to, oh, a few million things. More than likely it had to be something job related, so that slimmed the list down even more, but I knew too little of military devices and enemies to make a good assumption.

Ron patted me on the knee. "We can handle the problem."

"Well you thought you could handle the twins and we know how that one turned out."

Ron groaned, "I know, I know. I'm sorry."

I smacked his arm, "Stop apologizing. It's my blackmail piece."

"Blackmail?"

"Hm-m. I could probably get you to do anything if I said 'do you remember that time when -'" he leaned down, "-you-," and propped his chin on his knuckles, staring at me, inches from me. "Hi."

"Do I remember the time when I what?"

"Ah," he was waiting patiently for me to answer. "When you – ah – ate all my ice cream?" What the hell was I saying?

"And what if I don't like ice cream?"

"Er –" think Melry, think. Why was my brain being so sluggish? "You fed it to your dog?" because that made so much sense.

He tapped my forehead, "I think your processors are malfunctioning. Are you sure you aren't frozen?"

I rolled over and smacked my forehead against the truck. Dummy, I chastised myself. Why was I so short minded this evening?

The truck was remarkably warm for a vehicle sitting out in the cold. I had been half hoping it would cool down my skin, which blistered with embarrassment.

"Do you have a fever?"

"No," I mumbled into the metal of the truck. I knew my face was abnormally hot at the moment, but he had only tapped me. How could he have registered the temperature?

I looked over at him when he pulled my hood back. "Your face is red."

Of course it is. I only said the lamest things in my life a second ago.

"You should get some rest," he pulled my ponytail out from under the sweater. "Sitting out here is making you ill."

"You worry too much."

A frown pulled at the corners of his lips. "Human existence is fragile. You shouldn't take it so lightly."

"So says the military man." What was with him tonight? What was me for that matter? I think the cold had numbed both our brains.

Ron looked away for a moment, then turned back. "There's far more to me than you think."

I smiled softly, "I like a good mystery."

He tilted his head to the side, a puzzled expression enveloping his face. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I hope I can one day put the puzzle together."

He looked away and closed his eyes. "Some puzzles are better left unsolved."

"But what if I want to?"

"Then you are foolish."

"No more foolish than the one hiding the pieces."

He looked at me once more, brows raised. Moonlight eliminated him from behind, making his hair seem aglow and outlined him a pale blue aura. Through darkened in his silhouette, I could still make out those brilliant blue eyes of his, studying me.

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance and a frigid breeze blew by. I shivered.

Ron shook his head sharply and jumped off the truck.

"Hey," I sat up, "where are you going?"

He held a hand to me, eyes fixed on mine, never speaking. His hand was firm and warm. A tingle ran up my spine as he helped me down. I accidently bumped into his chest.

"Sorry," my cheeks flared.

Ron smiled faintly and as he spoke his voice was soft and faint, "do you trust me?"

My brows knitted together in confusion. "Of course I do. Why do you ask?"

"May I show you something?"

"What?"

Before I knew how or why, I was in the passenger's seat of the truck. The cabin was warm and cozy. The door shut and locked on me, no amount of pulling made it budge.

Ron stood at the window grinning, "I know you'll be warm in there."

That two timing son of a, "JERK!"

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