Unforeseen

Chapter 18

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

Chapter 18

Tacky, goopy, slimy and gross; that was what snot was. I grimaced and whipped my hands on a new tissue. Having my sinuses clogged was dreadful, but so was having them drain. Stupid hot meals, I thought miserably. They might to wonders to warm me up, but they caused other irritations as well.

I tossed the dirty tissues piled up in front of me. Most of them missed going into the garbage and congregated on the floor with a half dozen others.

"Remind me never to trust my life in your aim." Ron chuckled from where he sat at the end of the bed.

I threw a clean tissue at him. It completely missed. "You just wait until you're sick." I sneezed and promptly groaned as my ribs reminded me of their existence.

"The probabilities of that are rather slim."

"Uh huh," I wiped nose again. It was growing tender from all the chaffing. "How'd uncle get to work today anyway if you have the truck?"

"Sarah's car."

"Don't you have a car of your own?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "did it ever cross you that perhaps the truck is more important to me than Will?"

I shrugged. My uncle always seemed to have it with him, so I rather questioned that argument, but what did I know. I had been told it was a military vehicle, so maybe Ron used it more during work and my uncle during his off hours.

Ron looked out the window. There was a fat little bird chirping away on a tree limb just within view. Every now and then he'd ruffle up his feathers and become about the size of a tennis ball before he resumed his chirping.

"You never did answer my question you know," I said, breaking the silence

Ron's gaze left the window and turned upon me. He raised a curious brow.

"You never told me why Starflees was after me."

"Starscream," Ron corrected with chuckle.

I waved it off, "Starscream, Decepticons, Ironhide, weird names for machinery, I don't care."

"What's wrong with the name Ironhide," Ron protested indignantly.

Apparently I had pushed a button. I had only been joking about the truck. "What's - the big deal?" I tried not to stutter under his intense gaze.

Ron looked away irritably. "There are some things you couldn't possibly comprehend."

"Are you calling me dumb?"

"Naïve," he answered.

So I'm not an idiot, just blind. I wasn't sure if I should have been insulted or not. Was he really that attached to the stupid truck? It was not like it was a living thing…

I shook my head. It couldn't have been. I had been living here for nearly three months, surly someone would have mentioned something. It would have been incredibly rude not to of, considering I had tromped all over it with my dirty shoes and slept in it more than once.

Just a plain, ordinary truck… used by the military…

"He wasn't after you," Ron startled me from my thoughts.

"Hm?"

He gave me a sideways look, "Starscream."

I had asked about that hadn't I, but his answer did not make much sense. "Then why was he – it – whatever it was, practically stalking me?"