* * *
Well, Skids thought dejectedly, she's not exactly the talkative sort, is she? Skids knew that wasn't particularly true though. Carly was quite talkative under normal circumstances. Too much so if anyone were to ask Ironhide. She simply seemed distracted by something. It was an interesting habit that many humans fell in to, one Skids knew a lot about. It fascinated him that humans and Transformers had so many similarities once you got right down to it. As fascinating as it was, however, it was also frustrating. Skids had hoped to have a real conversation with the human, but very little during the hour-long trip had actually occurred. She simply spent most of that time staring out of the passenger-side window. Even now as they were entering the southern suburbs of Seattle, she was still simply gazing out the window. Skids saw the mountains and ascertained that that was what she must to looking at. Skids didn't have a good reason why. Autobot headquarters, where Carly spent a lot of time, was deep in the mountains. Skids would have thought that she would have seen plenty of mountains in the months she's known the Autobots. This is silly, Skids thought, I'll simply ask her why. "Have a lot on you mind?" Skids asked, hoping that would finally prompt a conversation. For a second, Carly didn't seem to hear him. After several seconds, she turned quickly forward. "Hmm?" she uttered distractedly. "Oh, sorry. Yeah, I guess I do." She looked back out the window. Skids waited. Dialogue wasn't created by one being talking and trying to coax one-word answers out of someone. Skids refused to let his eagerness interfere with Carly's comfort. If she did not feel like talking, Skids would not force the issue. On a professional level, it was not a way to elicit trust from someone. On a personal level, Skids thought such things were rude. After a moment, Carly said, "Cabin fever." "Excuse me?" Skids replied. It was a phrase he had heard before, but only in books. This was the first live case he had come across. "This time of year, around late spring, I always feel like I'm wasting my time being indoors," Carly explained. "I just get this itch to go out and hike around or lay by a stream or, God, even just drive around with the top down." "Sort of like claustrophobia?" Skids asked. "Kinda," Carly said slowly. "It only happens right around this time of year though. I'm sure you've noticed how I have no problems being inside most of the time. Except for right now, in May, I hardly even give it a second thought. But I just long to go visit the mountains." "You visit the mountains nearly everyday now," Skids commented. "It's not the same thing," Carly answer looking back out the window. "I want to stay out there for more than a couple of hours. I want to be out there for days. I don't want to see a building, a television, a magnetic inducer, nothing. "When I was a kid, my family used to go to a state park near here and camp out. It was hardly living off the land or anything, but we always found a nice spot away from everybody. Then we'd spend the next week just taking in everything. It was exhilarating! I haven't done that since my dad left and…" She stopped suddenly, and simply stared out the window next to her. Skids knew of Carly's relationship with her father through Sparkplug. Sparkplug was almost a surrogate dad for the girl; she had apparently told Spike's father about it. Skids only knew because Sparkplug had to tell somebody and Skids was there. Such people like Carly's dad seemed to raise very strong emotions in the mechanic. Sparkplug's own wife, and Spike's mother, died when Spike was very young. Sparkplug knew that children were a rare treasure, and it "thoroughly pissed him off," in Sparkplug's words, to hear of people taking them for granted. Skids, for his part, echoed Sparkplug's own incredulation directed at Carly's father. Such behavior made little sense to Skids. "Change the subject quick, will ya?" she asked, her voice sounding a little strained. Skids promptly obliged. "So how is Evelyn been doing lately?" Skids asked, moving the conversation away from more painful subjects to one Skids suspected Carly was more interested in than she often let on. Carly looked at DAVE, resting where a human driver would normally sit, with sort of stunned curiosity, as if not believing what Skids had just said and inquisitive as to what had inspired the question. What an interesting reaction, Skids thought. "What?" she finally asked. It wasn't exactly the response Skids had been expecting, but he rolled with it. "It's been a while since I've seen him, as I've been rather deep in research for a project Perceptor needed help on. I just thought you might've seen him." Carly shook her head. "No, sorry. I meant what did you call him?" "Evelyn," Skids answered matter-of-factly. Carly smiled a little, something Skids was happy to see. "Don't let Spike hear you call him that. He doesn't particularly like that middle name of his. Not that I can blame him." "You call him that all the time though," Skids noted. He tried not to let his voice sound to leading. "Well, yeah," Carly said fidgeting a little. "I just like to tease him a little. I mean, he makes it so easy sometimes. It's just...fun. But I doubt he wants that name in common use." Skids paused. He noticed Carly was still looking at DAVE, so he commanded the hologram to nod thoughtfully. Carly seemed to be trying to devise what was on Skids' mind. For Skids' part, he tried to think of an appropriate way to state his theory. There wasn't a best way. He simply said, "Ah." Carly frowned and echoed, "Ah?" "Yes," Skids answered as DAVE turned to face Carly. "You like him." "Sure," Carly said indifferently with a shrug. She then tried to casually look at the front window. The heel of her left foot, however, was tapping quickly on the floorboard. "He's a nice guy. I like Chip and Sparkplug too." "No," Skids said, "I mean you like him like him." Carly's jaw dropped and she quickly looked straight ahead again. After a second, she looked back at DAVE, looking as if she was trying to find the words she was looking for. Finally, as calmly as she could, she said, "What are you talking about?" "It just seems that..." "Well," she said, a little more intensely, and stopped. "Well, you're wrong," she continued. "He's not my type. He's...just not my type. And besides, I...Skids!" Skids turned his attention to the cars in front of him, all of which had suddenly stopped moving. Skids quickly applied his brakes, quietly thanking Wheeljack for the upgrade to his braking system. He skidded to a stop inches from the next car's bumper and cringed as he noticed the force that Carly was thrown back against the seat. "Carly, are you alright?" he asked anxiously. "Don't worry, Skids, I'm fine," she replied. She looked at DAVE again, and seemed to scrutinizing him. "Maybe we can finish this discussion later. This is a tough conversation to have with a hologram." DAVE nodded and Skids said, "Yes, I imagine it would be a little disconcerting." Carly simple smiled a crooked smile and looked at the sea of cars in front of them. Skids, noticing her attention turn there, noted, "Traffic certainly got a lot heavier." Carly shrugged. "Welcome to rush hour. Still it seems a little worse off than normal. Maybe we should try to get off this road." "Easier said than done," Skids responded. He was amazed with how quickly the heavy traffic hit. One minute the traffic was moving very smoothly, the next they were surrounded by a sea of cars. Still people seemed quite normal. They definitely weren't exhibiting any adverse reaction to the sudden stop in the flow of cars. Skids moved DAVE's head around and looked down at two passengers of the compact car beside him. Everybody seems just fine, he thought. One of the passengers of the car looked up at DAVE. Skids smiled internally. Here's my chance to interact with them, he thought excitedly. "Good afternoon, sir," Skids said through DAVE's form. The passenger glowered at DAVE for a moment. Skids waited patiently. After several seconds, Skids began to wonder if perhaps he had misspoken. He reviewed his vocal log and found nothing amiss. Curious, Skids thought, pondering the lack of a response. Finally, the human spoke. He said, "Piss off, asswipe." A shocked expression danced across DAVE's face as it looked over at Carly. Carly was trying her best to stifle a laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, Skids," she said apologetically. "It's just the look on your…er, DAVE's face was simply priceless." "I imagine," Skids said, still feeling shocked. "It's just that was my first experience with such brutal rudeness on human roads." Carly laughed. "Well, it probably won't be the last time. Better brace yourself." "Thanks for the warning," Skids said wryly, prompting another laugh from his human passenger. Seeing a spot opening for him to move into, Skids switched on his right directional signal and began moving into the lane. A blast from a horn forced Skids back into his lane. DAVE craned his neck to see a small black sports car pull up next to him. The driver, a balding middle-aged man, simply glared back at DAVE. Skids decided to inform the driver of his intentions. "Moving into this lane is well within the rules of—" The driver beside him extended his middle finger on his left hand at Skids and said, "Yeah, well, up yours, jackass." The driver then laid on his horn, as if it would move the cars in front of him any faster. Carly looked at DAVE. "Just ignore him," she said loudly, obviously intending the sports car's driver to here her. "A car like that has mid-life crisis all over it." The driver made the same motion as before to Carly and said, "You can sit and spin too, kid." This time, however, he rolled up his window and turned up his music. Carly smiled giddily at DAVE. "You just gotta know how to handle them. Mostly I just ignore them though. You never know what kind of creeps are out there. There've been a couple of instances where people have actually been shot on the road for no good reason. I have a friend in high school who was run off the highway for just trying to merge into traffic." DAVE shook his head. "I simply find the behavior hard to believe. At least until now." Carly smiled and looked around at the many cars again and sighed. Skids could understand the feeling. It felt as though they were going nowhere fast. After a moment or two, Carly uncomfortably shifted in her seat. "Not the most comfortable seats in the world, eh?" Skids asked with a smile from DAVE. "It's not that," Carly said. "You know, Skids, that I've never avoiding you or anything." DAVE looked shocked by the statement. "I know that! Why would you even think that I thought such a thing? Have I seemed upset?" Carly waved her hands in front of her. "Oh no, no, no," she said quickly, dismissing the question, "not at all. It's just that I know you've wanted to talk to me, through Spike and Chip, and I feel bad about not being around to do that. I didn't want you to think I was being snobby or anything." "I've never thought that," Skids responded. "I'm not around that often either, with my duties on Cybertron as well as here on Earth. But quite frankly, I was surprised you took me up on my offer to drive you." "Why's that?" "Your car's in the shop, right?" Skids asked. "Yeah," Carly answered slowly, wondering where this was going. "Well, knowing that you were coming up to visit Autobot Headquarters, you could have easily taken your mother to work and drove her car." Carly curled her nose at that thought. "I could have, but I'd rather not." "Because it's a station wagon," Skids finished, "a 'grocery-getter,' as I've heard you call it. Not exactly the most exotic of vehicles, especially when you could be picked up by a transforming Indy car. Well, a minivan is barely a step up from a station wagon from what I've heard." Carly leaned forward and looked at DAVE. "Why did you pick this vehicle for your alternate mode anyway? Couldn't you have been just about anything?" "Nearly," Skids answered, "but this fit best with my function. It's a more common occurrence with those Autobots who were activated later, or in my case, flit back and forth between Earth and Cybertron. Red Alert was a little limited by his design, but there are still several towns in the area with Lamborghini fire chief vehicles." Carly blinked in surprise and laughed. "There are?" DAVE shrugged. "According to Ironhide, there's at least one. He mistook Red Alert for it and scared the pants of the fire chief. Smokescreen stands out too, but that's part of his job. The rest of us, like Grapple and Hoist, tend to fill the disguise role much better than the first Autobots to awaken." DAVE looked quickly back at the road. "I suppose I should have DAVE look forward; it might be a little suspicious otherwise." Carly laughed. "As long as no one tries to drag you out of the car, you'll blend right in." Skids, through DAVE, laughed as well. After a moment of though he said, "Tell me, how many Lamborghinis have you seen? Not including our three resident Autobots." Carly thought for a moment and said, "One. It was in downtown Seattle. I was just walking down the street and there it was, parked on the other side. Pretty thing too. I didn't get close to it though. Someone touched it and set off its alarm." DAVE smiled sheepishly. "Are you sure that someone wasn't you?" Carly gave DAVE a look of mock surprise and said, "Of course it wasn't me!" She paused for a second and smiled. "Of course, if I had gotten there twenty seconds earlier, it might have been a different story. Why do you ask?" "It simply proves my point. Lamborghinis stand out. If someone sees one of those, or an Indy car, or a Lancia Stratos Turbo, they—" "Wait," Carly interrupted. "A what?" "Lancia Stratos Turbo," Skids said matter-of-factly. "That's what Wheeljack transforms into." "Oh. I've been wondering what kind of car that is..." "Anyway," Skids continued, "I wouldn't be able to do my job effectively if I had to worry about some human gawking at me every time I drove around a corner. This form makes my job a whole lot easier. And adds next to nothing in the interest department." Carly laughed. "You're a transforming alien robot. I think that's interesting enough." After a moment of thought, DAVE shrugged. "I suppose you do have a point. It looks as though traffic is moving along a bit more. This might be our chance to get off of this freeway." Skids put on his directional signal again. A brown, wood-sided station wagon in the right lane backed off a little. Looks as though someone is finally going to be courteous, Skids thought as he began moving into the lane. Suddenly, the station wagon sped up and moved next to Skids, blasting its horn. Traffic suddenly stopped all around the Autobot again. DAVE's shoulders slumped. "Unreal," Skids sighed, listening to a chorus of horns from the sea of cars. "I would have expected a large majority of people would be kind enough to let someone change lanes. Why even bother honking or getting upset? It's not as though they can control the situation." "That's probably a big reason why," Carly answered. "They can't control it so it upsets them." "I suppose that's true," Skids said, sounding a little disenchanted. A familiar voice suddenly spoke from his communicator. "Hey there, Skids ol' buddy. Looks like your in a bit of a jam." "Blaster?" Skids asked, as Carly craned her head out the window to look for him. "Where are you?" "Me and Jazz are just comin' into town to soak up some of the local tunes. Glad we left early with this traffic. We're comin' up on your right." Sure enough, Jazz's familiar vehicle mode was inching his way toward Skids in the lane to his right. Skids watched with a bit of awe as Jazz moved quickly into the Skids' lane, passed a car, and slipped back into the right lane. "Just takes a little practice," Carly teased. "Maybe more than a little in my case," he responded back. Over his radio, he then said, "Jazz, would you mind if I cut in front of you. We're trying to get off this road." "Sorry, buddy, we're in a hurry," Jazz said seriously. After several seconds, he laughed. "Geez, Skids, lighten up. I was jokin'." Jazz then slowed a bit and Skids moved quickly into the lane. For the next several minutes, the three Autobots and Carly chatted a bit about the band Jazz and Blaster were going to see. Skids, who was becoming well versed in the music of the humans, flipped on his radio to listen to them when Blaster mentioned a station was playing a promo for the concert on a local station. Recognizing the song, Skids, as DAVE, began singing along. He regretted it when a couple of eight-year-olds in a car next to him started laughing at him. Finally (And mercifully, Skids thought ignoring the children making faces at him), Skids and Carly reached their exit and bid Jazz and Blaster a good night. After a surprisingly short amount of time, Skids found himself parked outside of the building where Carly's mother worked. Carly got out and walked around to the driver's-side window and looked at DAVE. "So," she said, "what do you think about human drivers now?" "Well," Skids began, but was interrupted by the horn of another car. Primus, I'm starting to hate that noise, he thought. DAVE and Carly both looked up at the other vehicle. The driver rolled down his window and shouted, "You want hurry it up and quit talking to your kid. That soccer-mobile is talking up two spots!" Carly just smiled, looked at DAVE, and said, "Like I said..." Skids sighed. "I think I'll stick to the suburbs for now. People who have cars around here can be real jerks." Carly laughed and waved good-bye to Skids. Skids himself could only smile as he watched Carly walk into the building. Nice kid, he thought. His thoughts were interrupted by another blast of sound from the car behind him. DAVE stuck his head out the window and said, "I'm moving. Asswipe."