Every once in a while, the kids got to have sleepovers with their robot companions at the Autobot base. That’s how June really got to know Arcee, as she’d stay over too, since the other parents thought the kids were at the Darby’s house.
Sometimes, June would enter the base in the dead of night, after a shift at the hospital. The kids would already be asleep, and the Cybertronians were often still up and about, having sleep cycles that eclipsed the twenty-four hour span of a human day.
It was nice to have calm conversation after a night of helping out with cut off fingers and eye injuries because of a lack of PPE (theirs was a working town, even if others like to act otherwise).
So, she had gotten around to spending a lot of time with Arcee, time where she needed to wind down.
June may have been a mother, but she was a divorced mother with blood in her veins and a sexual history that would have sent her teenage boy squirming for the hills, shooting her shot with Optimus had only been half a joke.
Shorting her shot with Arcee had been worth it. Double worth it, since these moments in the quiet were so interesting too.
It wasn’t the average quiet, not the kind she had with her previous husband, where silences were still and they barely acknowledged each other was there. It hadn’t been malicious; it was that their interests had continued to drift farther and farther apart, and more importantly, they had stopped being able to infect each other with said interests.
When June got back to the base and spotted Arcee with about twenty-five different Wikipedia tabs open on the main computer, June had been immediately curious to watch the Autobot warrior was studying. The human climbed the catwalk that allowed them to have conversations with the Autobot’s that didn’t leave them staring down at the humans like they were lost puppies. She certainly had no interest in Joan of Arc or onna-musha, and she hadn’t read The Second Sex since university, and she hadn’t even wanted to touch medieval history with a ten foot pole in her electives, so chivalry was just a word to June, but it was intriguing to wonder how Arcee had ended up with such a Wikipedia rabbit hole collection at 2AM.
“What dots are you connecting together?”
Arcee’s fins wiggled in what June had quickly learned was a greeting. “It’s stupid, but I noticed that “woman” and “women” and other words like them are used as a weird modifier in your language. I’ve thought of them as somewhat similar to “femme” like we would use to describe my spark type, but now I’m thinking I’ve vastly misunderstood the connotations.” She moved open windows around, focusing on the chivalry and Joan of Arc tags. “The fact that she was a “lady knight” seems significant, to the point that it’s odd and some even consider it evil, I think? But that seems utterly stupid.”
“Well, they did burn her at the stake.” That much June knew, but she didn’t consider her common knowledge impressive.
“Yes, but I’m struggling to understand why.”
June pursed her lips as she thought.
Acree spoke again. “Okay, maybe not struggling, more so hoping that my anger is unjustified, but I’ve also spent an hour reading about feminist movements and getting more angry.”
“Because they were needed in the first place? There’s no sexism on Cybertron?”
Arcee’s plating rattled in agitation. “No? But there’s similar cruelty? The civil war started for some legitimate reasons after all, Megatron just fueled already burning tensions to a breaking point, but as far as I’m concerned, you humans,” at this, Arcee waved a servo towards June, “don’t have different frame types. That’s where most of our discrimination came from.”
June crossed her arms and sighed. Arcee’s mind was one of her attractive traits, for all that she acted like a hot head warrior. It wasn’t surprising that she was going straight to anger, but June had helped pull a saw blade out of a man’s cheek that night. She did not have the energy for this conversation. “I think this is a conversation for when I’m not dead on my feet.”
Arcee finally turned around from the computer to face her body towards June. Her smile was apologetic. “Right, you were working. Rough shift?”
FILL: TEAM TRANSFORMERS
Pairing: June Darby/Arcee
WC: 747
Every once in a while, the kids got to have sleepovers with their robot companions at the Autobot base. That’s how June really got to know Arcee, as she’d stay over too, since the other parents thought the kids were at the Darby’s house.
Sometimes, June would enter the base in the dead of night, after a shift at the hospital. The kids would already be asleep, and the Cybertronians were often still up and about, having sleep cycles that eclipsed the twenty-four hour span of a human day.
It was nice to have calm conversation after a night of helping out with cut off fingers and eye injuries because of a lack of PPE (theirs was a working town, even if others like to act otherwise).
So, she had gotten around to spending a lot of time with Arcee, time where she needed to wind down.
June may have been a mother, but she was a divorced mother with blood in her veins and a sexual history that would have sent her teenage boy squirming for the hills, shooting her shot with Optimus had only been half a joke.
Shorting her shot with Arcee had been worth it. Double worth it, since these moments in the quiet were so interesting too.
It wasn’t the average quiet, not the kind she had with her previous husband, where silences were still and they barely acknowledged each other was there. It hadn’t been malicious; it was that their interests had continued to drift farther and farther apart, and more importantly, they had stopped being able to infect each other with said interests.
When June got back to the base and spotted Arcee with about twenty-five different Wikipedia tabs open on the main computer, June had been immediately curious to watch the Autobot warrior was studying. The human climbed the catwalk that allowed them to have conversations with the Autobot’s that didn’t leave them staring down at the humans like they were lost puppies. She certainly had no interest in Joan of Arc or onna-musha, and she hadn’t read The Second Sex since university, and she hadn’t even wanted to touch medieval history with a ten foot pole in her electives, so chivalry was just a word to June, but it was intriguing to wonder how Arcee had ended up with such a Wikipedia rabbit hole collection at 2AM.
“What dots are you connecting together?”
Arcee’s fins wiggled in what June had quickly learned was a greeting. “It’s stupid, but I noticed that “woman” and “women” and other words like them are used as a weird modifier in your language. I’ve thought of them as somewhat similar to “femme” like we would use to describe my spark type, but now I’m thinking I’ve vastly misunderstood the connotations.” She moved open windows around, focusing on the chivalry and Joan of Arc tags. “The fact that she was a “lady knight” seems significant, to the point that it’s odd and some even consider it evil, I think? But that seems utterly stupid.”
“Well, they did burn her at the stake.” That much June knew, but she didn’t consider her common knowledge impressive.
“Yes, but I’m struggling to understand why.”
June pursed her lips as she thought.
Acree spoke again. “Okay, maybe not struggling, more so hoping that my anger is unjustified, but I’ve also spent an hour reading about feminist movements and getting more angry.”
“Because they were needed in the first place? There’s no sexism on Cybertron?”
Arcee’s plating rattled in agitation. “No? But there’s similar cruelty? The civil war started for some legitimate reasons after all, Megatron just fueled already burning tensions to a breaking point, but as far as I’m concerned, you humans,” at this, Arcee waved a servo towards June, “don’t have different frame types. That’s where most of our discrimination came from.”
June crossed her arms and sighed. Arcee’s mind was one of her attractive traits, for all that she acted like a hot head warrior. It wasn’t surprising that she was going straight to anger, but June had helped pull a saw blade out of a man’s cheek that night. She did not have the energy for this conversation. “I think this is a conversation for when I’m not dead on my feet.”
Arcee finally turned around from the computer to face her body towards June. Her smile was apologetic. “Right, you were working. Rough shift?”
June smiled back, “Well, let me tell you…”