a_q: (pic#477123)
[personal profile] a_q
Title: (She Is Not Your) Little Princess
Fandom: Supernatural / Transformers (movieverse)
Characters: Impala / Bumblebee / Dean Winchester
Kinks: mechanical/technological (free square) - confined; caged - washing; cleaning - dirty talk
Word count: ~2000
Notes: sentient car-robot romance PG-story, where the kinks appear convoluted - there is talking, walking cars (mechanical), human trapped for his own safety (caged), a sweet gesture of car wash and innuendo of Turtle Wax (washing) topped with strange talk about engines (dirty talk).
No sex, for the lack of interlocking bodies. I know nothing of cars, so if someone with nitpicking tendencies finds something annoying in there, feel free to point & mock.





Bumblebee stared at Impala, while he tried to analyze the situation. He didn't know what to say. There just wasn't enough information to make any assessments.

“Your human is inside your trunk?” he finally asked. ”Right now?”

Impala nodded. When she moved, there was muffled shouting with angry banging coming from her backside. She searched for a functional movement from her new limbs. Finally she just placed her hands over her trunk and the sound quieted into distant yapping. She seemed embarrassed.

“Yes. He can not be left alone. I must protect him. There is no safer place. You do understand?”

“Humans are very fragile and dependent of oxygen. Is he...well in there?”

“He is fine. Just angry.”

Bumblebee shuffled his feet, unsure what to do now. Safety of humans was always paramount. That was the first and most important rule for Optimus Prime, and therefore for Bumblebee as well.
Yet, humans had many strange rules and practices that were hard to decipher. A human on their date would put strict limits to the evening. There just was conversational topics that didn't suited human ears.

Then again, a chance to go on a date with a girl like Impala... She was absolutely one of a kind in this planet. All the indicators pointed to that she would be one of a kind even in Cybertron. Bumblebee didn't want to call the evening off, especially since he had spent a lot of time planning it.

The uncertain look in Impala's pale eyes tipped the scales and Bumblebee made his decision. “He will be safe with us. Shall we go then?”

Impala was pleased and with a crunch and slide she turned into her conservative form. Bumblebee was happy he had managed to start the date with a success and joined Impala with his own turning motion. He had chosen a new paint job for the occasion, a sparkling deep golden hue instead his usual clear yellow. It was very festive and Impala seemed to appreciate it. She rolled slowly closer, touching her bumper to his bumper. They let their engines run in unison.

“You better not be doing what I think you are doing!” The human shouted from the trunk, banging the lid again. Impala lurched back, startled by the sound. Bumblebee backed away as well, flashing his lights. The human was surprisingly loud for such a small thing. Impala rocked from side to side and the human seemed to catch the warning; there was a sudden silence.

Impala purred her engine at him, curious and cute sound that Bumblebee copied with his own engine. When they found the mutual vibe, they rolled forward the empty forest road. The moon rose over the tree tops, the road was dry and well maintained, it was a pleasure to drive there. Bumblebee chose a radio station and Impala joined with her own. Together they blasted the music all the way to the forlorn gas station.

They stood up with a smooth slide. Bumblebee admired how effortlessly Impala transformed, the fluid black lines of her form. She had caught up fast with this two-faceted existence. It was astonishing really, for an earthling.

Bumblebee waited while Impala looked around. The place had been pretty trashed when he had found it, but he had worked hard to make it nicer. He had cleared the debris away, decorated the place with bright colorful lights and added even a splash of new black asphalt. The place still looked a bit shabby, but sort of nice too. Impala noticed the new car washing machinery inside the big shed and she made a purring happy sound.

“Car wash! Oh, I've never been to one such like this! May I try it?”

“Yes, I constructed it for you,” Bumblebee said. Impala was excited about the wash, like he had hoped. “I can hold your human.”

“Oh. Yes. Well. Hm.” Impala turned her head to look at her backside. There was silence and Impala looked back at him. “He is difficult.”

“I have held my human many times. How much different can they be?” Bumblebee asked, though he recalled that Sam Witwicky had needed his help at the time. Angry humans were much different, in fact. Impala seemed still unsure, but the lure of the car wash was just too much.

“Just be ready. He is going to jump.”

Bumblebee held his hands open when Impala snapped the lock of the trunk. Like she had warned, the human jumped fast and far, like a scared rabbit. Bumblebee snatched him, mid-air, and closed his hand to a loose fist; not hard enough to cause the human bodily harm, but just tight enough that he couldn't fall down. The human didn't seem to appreciate Bumblebee's careful tactic, because he started to kick and squirm in his hold.

“You, Rust Bucket, let me go right now! And you missy! You are not going into that car wash! It is bad for the paint job!”

With every word the human kicked Bumblebee's finger, causing a big, clanging sound. Impala just rolled her eyes at him and Bumblebee beamed; it was such a cute thing of her to do.

“It is a very gentle wash. There is triple foam, and tire cleaners,” he said. Impala let out even bigger purr of happiness. Before the human had a chance to comment again, she lifted Bumblebee's hand to her eye level, so that she could look her human in the eye.

“I know everything you have done in the back seat. All. Of. It.”

The human stopped kicked, shut his mouth and sat still. It was like magic. Impala nodded, like they had a whole new understanding between them, she and her human. She straightened, but didn't let go of Bumblebee's hand. Instead she leaned closer to touch Bumblebee's arm. Where their shells touched, little electric currents sparked up and down across the metal. Bumblebee froze with amazement.

“Thank you. I'll be right back,” Impala said. She transformed in a snap and headed to the start of the wash. The machinery started to hum and pump water into its systems. Bumblebee turned his back, because he hadn't been raised impolite. Instead he fiddled with the radio stations, until he found a nice frequency with some smooth melodies. The music fit the mood perfectly.

Inside his hand the human stared up at him. His face structure signaled anger, or perhaps annoyance. It was hard to tell. Humans were small and their faces were very flat and unstructured.

“I can see right through your game, buddy. Bit of music, nice bubble bath, sip of wine and out comes to scented oils. I know this routine, hell I've perfected this routine and she ain't falling for it. You can take my word for it, Tin Man.”

Bumblebee processed the sentence. Even though he found information about all the components the human mentioned, he still didn't grasp what he was talking about. Substance like oil could lead to falling, but Impala was very well balanced, so that didn't seem likely. He listened the splash of water and the hum of machinery. Impala was playing her radio, the same channel that he had found. It made him feel all happy and tingly inside.

“Are you listening to me, Tin Man? What are you going to bring out next? Gallon of gasoline? She's a picky one, you better not pour any second rate crap on her.”

“I got Premium,” Bumblebee said, happy that the human had finally chosen a topic that he could participate in. Humans liked to talk a lot, Bumblebee had noticed, and often it did not matter if anyone was listening when they talked. It was curious, but maybe it had something to do with lungs and their optimal usage. Some sort of excess valve if too much air got crammed inside.
“She said she likes it,” he added, just to make clear that he had thought this through.

“Really? What else you know? How about what kind of pressure she likes on her tires? What type of oil she needs for her engine? Have you popped her hood, Tin Man?”

Bumblebee looked at the human, horrified. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. A human, saying things like 'popping the hood'! Bumblebee was so emotional that his whole body buzzed with nervous energy.

If he was completely honest, of course he had thought about it. Any Autobot with the right energy level would think about it, if they saw such vision as Impala. He had had long, winded daydreams about her engine block alone, but it was not a topic of public discussion between an Autobot and a human. Bumblebee felt guilty just by thinking such things, let alone saying them aloud.

“I wouldn't! Do...that. Don't you know she is...Right. There.”

Bumblebee tried to signal that Impala was in the earshot and really, this whole topic was making him very, very uncomfortable. The human didn't seem to care. In fact he leaned closer, with a curious look that Bumblebee didn't recognize. It might have been excitement of some sort.

“I know something you don't! One time I was working on her engine, when she suddenly just...”

“Dean, stop it! He is a modest and well-mannered Autobot. I like that in him. Don't ruin it,” Impala said behind him. There was a faint aroma of oranges wafting through the air from the foams.

Bumblebee sighed with relief. Impala could handle her human and maybe she would even use that silencing technique again. Bumblebee didn't want to hear anything more from this human, especially if he insisted on talking about such delicate and private matter as ones beloved and her engine parts. Bumblebee turned to look at her. She had transformed back to her two, shaply legs and she shone with pure black and silver in the moonlight. She was the most beautiful thing Bumblebee had ever seen, even more beautiful than All Spark. That was saying a lot.

“Thank you. I'll take him now.”

The human started to struggle again.

“No no no, not the trunk, not the trunk! I promise to keep it down!”

“Shht! Be quiet. You can go this area here. You like that. Sleep. You like sleeping.”

Impala opened the side panel, a part of the door in her car form and held her hand open. The human looked inside and Bumblebee tried not to stare. The backseat was there, forming something like a padded nest with the curve of her chest. The human seemed to accept the offer and climbed in. Before Impala closed the panel the human managed to yell, “You keep your lubricants to yourself, Rust Bucket! Or else I have to take out my shotgun and things will get ugly!”

Bumblebee made a quick weapon analysis, but concept of shotgun seemed to be very low in the impact/damage scales. Though the choice of weaponry was flawed, Bumblebee understood the sentiment behind the humans words. It was only right to stand up for the one you cared for.
Impala closed the panel with a dull thud and suddenly there was just them, and the night and the music. Impala leaned closer, wrapping her hand around his shoulder and leaning her breast plate against his. Bumblebee didn't know what to do with his hands, until she guided him to wrap his arms around her waist.

“Now, my little Autobot, I noticed a jar of carnauba wax there, and chrome polish.”

“Yes, I thought... I hoped... It was just... You know. Turtle Wax.

“You know the way to seduce a girl. I like that. Now, let me show you few tricks I learned from my human..."

(no subject)

Date: 2010-08-31 08:28 pm (UTC)
sharpest_asp: Nate Ford sitting on a bench, Sophie Devereaux resting against his lap (Default)
From: [personal profile] sharpest_asp
+giggles and laughs and wallows in this+

I'm a sucker for Impala-as-a-Transformer fics. And this is such a delight to read!

(no subject)

Date: 2010-09-01 08:07 pm (UTC)
threewalls: threewalls (Default)
From: [personal profile] threewalls
This is fantastic.

Profile

a_q: (Default)
a_q

KB

August 2017

S M T W T F S
  12 345
6 7 8 91011 12
13141516171819
20212223242526
27 28293031  

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags