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Rush Week

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"I'll take you to school," he offers in the morning, not even sure why he says it, but it feels right. He likes her well enough. He cares. He's one of her protectors and he doesn't mind spending time with her. She stares at him for a moment, more surprised than anything, and then she grins as wide as the sunrise and he feels something light up inside him. That hasn't happened in a while.

He burns rubber on the drive over, carving out his turns in black on the asphalt. It's a bit reckless with a little girl in his seat, but she won't stop laughing as he does it and he enjoys that tinkling sound. He loves driving. He takes the corners hard and slips in between cars and he knows that she loves driving too. She grips his handlebars and urges him to blow through the yellow light, frag stopping, and he does it without hesitation, his front tire kissing the opposite crosswalk after the light goes red. She whoops a cheer, her feet twitching like spurs in a horse, and he throws on his siren so he can push 100 without caring.

He does five laps, circling the school, and she knows it. She leans into the wind grinning, and does the same into his turns, trusting him entirely as his motor keens on too loud for either of them to hear the other. Primus, it's beautiful.

She's winded as he takes the last lap, winding back his speed, taking the corners more carefully, the siren long forgotten. She laughs and rests her forehead against his handlebars, still smiling as she basks in the adrenaline rush. When he finally pulls up to the school parking lot, he's more than a little sorry as she slips out of his seat, her breathing still rough. "That was awesome," she says, her eyes shining. It was. "Then you won't mind me picking you up afterward?" he asks, smile bleeding into his voice, and she nods vigorously, not in a negative but because that's just how she works. He likes that.

He urges her inside before the bell rings, just sitting at the curb for a moment and letting his engine tick cool, feeling the burn on his tires and the wear in his breaks, loving that feeling. Why doesn't he do this more often? He laughs to himself. She won't let him get away with that anymore, he knows, and he's excited for that.

His motor rumbles to life again and he sets off back to the base, back to sitting and monitoring Decepticon traffic and the same old everything.

Sometimes you have to take the little moments and make them great.