Tinman

Ironhide, Meet Sara

The next morning Will groggily opened his eyes to the cheerful light of morning searing through the curtains. Absently he reached across the bed but his wife was gone and so was Annabelle. The smell of sizzling bacon wafted through the bedroom door from downstairs. Mmm. Breakfast. No MRE rubbish. No more sand in his instant scrambled eggs.

All at once Sara's voice called up the stairs. "Will!" her tone sounded concerned.

"What honey?" Will called back, his voice still not fully awake.

"What's that fancy pickup doing in the garage?" she asked.

Ironhide.

"Oh! Uh...hang on just a minute Hun!" Will answered, leaping out of bed to throw on a tank top and pants.

"Geez," he muttered.

He really wasn't ready to explain that the 'fancy pickup' sitting in their garage was actually a three ton, giant alien robot sent to guard them from other hostile alien robots. Once he was dressed he took a deep soothing breath to regain his composure, then trotted down the stairs to reveal all.

Sara was in a light athletic outfit by the sink. Annabelle, seeming happy and well rested, was messily playing with a handful of Cheerios on her high chair plate. His wife turned, confusion lacing her face.

"What is that pickup doing in our garage? Wasn't that the same one that brought you home last night?" she questioned, pointing to the garage door with a greasy spatula.

Will took another breath and said, "Yes. Yes it's the same pickup Sara."

"Well what's it doing in our garage then? Is that Sergeant who brought you sleeping here or something? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't I see him last night?" her barrage continued.

A faint smile curled the man's mouth, "Well, in a manner of speaking you did see him."

"What?"

"Come on outside. I've got to show you something." Will prompted, taking his wife's hand.

"What about Annie?" Sara asked.

Thoughtfully, Will plucked his daughter out of her high chair and placed her in her baby walker. With finality he popped a pacifier in her mouth which she nursed on eagerly.

"It won't take a minute."

Sara seemed reluctant, "Ok?"

Once they were outside, Will pushed the outer button to open the garage door. Inside sat the black Topkick.

Will took his wife's arm, "Alright. Sara, look at me."

She looked at him, brow knit with confusion, "Ok."

"What I'm about to show you is the biggest secret I've ever been forced to keep. You will be shocked and maybe a little scared but..."

"Will, you're scaring me." Sara admitted.

The Captain squeezed her hand, "Just trust me."

Sara nodded, still unsure.

Facing the open garage again Will called, "Ok Ironhide. Come on out."

Gradually, the black pickup roared to life, backing up out of the garage.

"You got a pickup with voice command?" Sara guessed feeling disillusioned with such a trivial notion. "And you named it?"

Will shook his head, "No. Just wait." He looked back to the truck, "Whenever you're ready big guy."

The instant the pickup panels parted, Sara's hand flew to her mouth in shock. The front of the Topkick split apart as if expanded by heat. Each door extended outward along with all the side panels, folding and rearranging themselves in a synchronous order. Very abruptly the whole black vehicle seemed to unfold as a pair of huge arms sprouted from under the door frames, giant metal fingers gripping the driveway. A horned metal head protruded out where the engine had been, settling comfortably between the two halves of the hood and grill—shoulders? Then the whole backside and underside of the pickup rolled over and over upon itself until a pair of very broad sturdy legs supported the entire massive frame raising it majestically into the air. At last the shifting form seemed to settle down as the true humanoid form took shape.