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Lost and Found - in more ways than one	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > AU/AR Views: 1662 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own hasbro or the transformers. Am not making a dime from this.

Chapter List
- 1-Lost and Found - in more ways than one
- 2-Reversed roles (humor, warped M/F)
- 1
- 2
*Lost and Found – in more ways than one*

Note: This was written for all those ‘doorwing’ fans who’ve been fantasizing about their own Jazz/Prowl/Bluestreak clone.

Setting: Within my original clone series – but not a true part of it. This falls after the devastation of the Yellowstone eruption. Located somewhere in rural Arkansas by the Mississippi river.

Characters: Scrap – Scrapper clone, Claw – Hook clone, Mixer – Mixmaster clone, Haul – Long Haul clone, Vulture – Scavenger clone, BS – Bluestreak clone, MC – Jazz clone, Lieutenant – Prowl clone, Dawn – middle-aged teacher, Amber – 16 year old, Med – First Aid clone

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“Well then dig deeper you piece of slag!” the muffled shout reached his audios, filling the trapped clone with the first semblance of hope that he’d felt in months.

He would’ve looked up if he could, but the debris of brick from the fallen house had mixed with the strange ash fall that had appeared – effectively turning the entire pile into a concrete-like substance. He – and his two comrades – had been trapped like this for six months, five days, fourteen hours, five minutes and three seconds – make that four seconds – according to his internal clock.

Though he’d been trapped for so long, and thus, unable to perform his required duties as assigned to him by his owner – the Prowl clone had managed to find a bright spot in his current predicament. His comrade, BS, had not been able to utter a single word since they’d been trapped. True, he’d managed to radio both of the others. Fortunately, a radio was easily turned off by internal command. So the quiet tactician had enjoyed a long period of sustained mental peace during this unintended confinement. Granted, he hadn’t been able to keep from an internal laugh about MC’s comment that ‘BS is the perfect acronym for you bro – you’re full of bull shit!’ This happened to have been the final communication he had heard before turning off his receiver.

Hearing the sounds of digging getting closer, Lieutenant strained his audios in order to pick up more of the voices above him. The one voice was still berating whomever was digging. It was a voice signature familiar to him. Searching through his data banks he identified the match: a Scrapper clone. The other voices that were becoming clearer also matched the signatures of known Constructicon clone models. A wash of warmth came over him. His primary owner had been the CEO of a large construction company. So he must’ve finally sent one of his crews to rescue them! A wash of warmth settled over the trapped security clone. He knew in his core that Mr. Daniels cared for them. This was solid proof! Clicking on his radio, BS’s annoying voice filled his meta once again.

“I’m detecting communications. The signals are very weak,” the Hook clone frowned as he tapped some keys on the modified iPhone he held. “Probably damaged beyond most repairbot’s limited capabilities.”

“Not yours I’m sure,” the Scrapper clone rolled his optics – his sarcasm obvious to all but his SIC.

“Of course not. I am not the average repairbot.” As was typical for him, his olfactory sensor went straight up in the air. He was a proud clone. His owner had always told him he was the best. And now even their current human guardian also said that. So everyone was well-aware of what he already knew.

“See! What did I tell you guys! We found some – we found some!” the Scavenger clone would’ve been dancing with glee if he’d been in bot mode – as his shovel uncovered the first trapped clone. He’d sensed their energy cores a few hours ago – and here was HIS prize! Dawn would be so pleased with him.

“Pathetic isn’t he?” Scrap snickered as he transformed and began to help. He hadn’t been willing to lower himself to this until something functioning had been uncovered. But as always, he’d be more than willing to take full credit for the find.

“Indeed” Claw rolled his optics as he too transformed. “Prepare the straps” he ordered to the Mixmaster clone nearby. This was how they worked – the others dug out the recovered clones, he hefted them out of the rubble with Mixer’s assistance and loaded them into Haul’s bucket for transport. Wasn’t the most gentle way of going – but it was efficient.

Lieutenant’s vocals strained with a barely audible groan as the construction team uncovered his torso just enough to wrap pull chains around his doorwings and hood. With little concern for his comfort, they roughly extricated him and dropped him into the bucket of a waiting Longhaul clone. His chassis was raked with renewed agony from his old damage – plus the new damage. His optics filled with mineral oil tears, which actually served to clean them off so that he could actually see what was going on.

“We’ve been rescued by one of Mr. Daniel’s work crews,” he radioed to his still-buried comrades. Even his radioed voice was weak and hoarse.

BS’s voice immediately responded, “Oh, this is grand – so grand! Are there television crews like when humans get rescued? I mean, this is soooooo cool don’t you think? I’m only a little banged up. What about you two? Just need a windshield and some body work and some paint and I’ll be………”

Closing his optics, Lieutenant shut off his radio again. He’d rather enjoy the idea of being rescued without having to suffer BS’s constant chatter. Let MC deal with it…. Relaxing as best he could with the pain signals blaring in his meta, he rested his helm on the swell of the bucket he lay in. “Thank you,” he whispered to the clone carrying him.

“Don’t know why you’re thankin’ me. I’m just stuck carrying your worthless aft. I always get stuck with this grunt work. I’m sick of it. Just sick of it!” Haul grumbled in reply.

A faint wisp of a smile graced the stoic clone’s lips. These clones were extremely typical for their models. Since he already had that information in his data banks – he knew what to expect from them. And Prowl clones preferred to know what to expect. Made life much easier…..

-------

“What’d you boys find?” Dawn asked as she walked into the garage.

Unceremoniously, Haul dumped his load of three wrecked clones onto the cold concrete. “Just some more wrecks they made ME carry all by myself!” he grumbled as he transformed to bot mode. Crossing his arms, he went into his standard ‘poor me’ stance.

The small woman walked over and patted his arm, “Without your strength – there’s no way you’re gestalt would manage to get them back here.”

For a second Haul managed to keep up his pout, but then his optics gleamed. He seemed to puff up proudly next to the woman he towered over. “Exactly!” he challenged to his comrades. As if to prove his strength to the diminutive woman, he grabbed two of the wrecks, threw them over his shoulders and carried them to the repair tables where he dropped them. Striding back over, he grabbed up the last one and did the same – completely impervious to the fact he’d caused them any more pain with his rather rough handling.

Shaking her head, Dawn strode up to the first wreck who was moaning weakly on the hard table. Setting one hand on his crumbled bumper, she used her other hand to wipe off the gray grime still covering his blue optics. “Sorry about these guys, they’re not known for empathy. But they will get you boys repaired and back on your feet.”

Lieutenant focused on her, his intake of air still cycling a tad hard as his systems responded to the rough handling. “Yes, ma-am,” he croaked. He estimated her to be in the late thirties age group. She had long dark curly hair mixed with gray streaks, which was held away from her face by a country-style head wrap. She was a tiny woman, not even five foot in height. But her green eyes shown with intelligence behind her slightly scratched glasses. And there was an air of authority which radiated from her narrow shoulders.

Dawn smiled warmly at him and patted his hood gently, “Prowl model hmmmm?” At his slight nod, she chuckled. “Well, guess the man upstairs finally realized I needed some help down here.”

The Prowl clone furrowed his forehead as he tried to discern what that statement meant.

The small woman smiled at his confusion. Bending down she gave his helm a motherly peck. “I’m glad you’re here.” Meeting his optics, her nose almost touched his. “It’s been very difficult as of late. I’m just a teacher – who’s been trying to keep everything together.” She gave a deep sigh, her eyes showing her exhaustion. “I need a clone that I can depend on. And you’re a model that I can.”

Now Lieutenant was confused. What was going on? Why was this strange woman acting like he was hers? He belonged to Mr. Daniels. He was supposed to be repaired so that he could go back to his duties! “Mr. Daniels? Where?” His optics darted around, as if he’d be able to see his owner.

Dawn’s eyes opened wider as she realized her error. “Oh my, you don’t know. I’m so sorry. I just assumed.” Sitting down next to the confused clone, she picked up one of his hands and curled her fingers around his – as she would a human who needed comforting.

“Don’t know?” the Prowl clone’s logic circuits flared, confusion was not something he enjoyed. He needed this self-proclaimed teacher to tell him what he needed to know.

Settling in for the long tale, Dawn began….

-------

He was strong again! Flexing his servos, Lieutenant finally stood on his own peds.

“If you let another building fall on this perfect windshield, I am going to reformat you!” Claw threatened, as he gave the shimmering glass one final swipe of the soft cloth.

Understanding the Hook model’s personality type, the Prowl clone gave him a stoic nod. “The high quality of your work is greatly appreciated,” he complimented. “I will try to ensure that my impetuous comrades do not put me in a situation where the repairs might be compromised.”

Puffing up at the compliment, Claw smiled behind his battlemask. “At least someone knows quality when he sees it!” he declared as he shot a haughty glare Scrap’s way.

That clone blatantly ignored him.

“Thanks bro – man this paint job has class!” MC chortled happily as he followed Lieutenant’s lead and stretched.

BS stood and admired his repaired chassis in a mirror. “Yeah, this is great isn’t it! I feel like a new clone. I mean, you are one bad-ass repairbot you know that? A real bad-ass!....” he continued, even though everyone else had already quit listening.

“Next time, rip that vocal processor out of him,” Scrap snorted as he walked by to put up some tools.

Lieutenant’s blue optics followed him – he couldn’t agree with the construction crew’s leaderbot more….

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“Now, turn to page 112, just look at that table in order to find the answers,” Dawn said as she leaned over the boy’s shoulder.

The three new clones waited patiently near the wall. For once, BS was quiet. Granted it had taken some death threats from the other two in order to accomplish this miracle. But Lieutenant and MC were determined to start on the best foot with their new master – or as she called herself – their human guardian.

Life came down to this now. Their former owners were deceased, and the legal system was shot. This volcanic eruption had taken out the modern society. Dawn had explained how she had been watching her nieces and their friends while their parents were at a retreat near Yellowstone when it had all happened. Now she not only had her own kids to take care of, but her nieces and their friends as well. A few other teenagers had straggled onto her farm over the months, and she had adopted them as well. After slaughtering most of the livestock, they now held out together. Living off of the smoked meat and keeping the remaining livestock in large barns, rationing all food so that they could make it years if need be.

Dawn had owned the Constructicon clone gestalt prior to the disaster. They had been her valued farm hands for years. They had waited out the very worst of the societal meltdown together. And now they made regular excursions to destroy any infected clones that came near the farm – as well as to recycle any usable clones they ran across. The recycled clones were adopted – or perhaps the better term would be fostered – by Dawn, with the promise to find their legal owners once society rebounded.

So here they were now. The three ‘orphans’ all fixed up and ready to learn their new jobs. They watched the woman as she went around the dinner table – turned classroom; stopping and helping each teenager with their studies.

MC and BS were more fascinated by the teens than their new ‘mother’. They were both fun loving, energetic clones who lived for excitement. Teenagers were the epidemy of excitement and fun. So both were praying silently that Dawn would assign them to do something – anything – involving the younger humans.

On the other hand, Lieutenant was fascinated by the older woman. She was patient with her students. She was intelligent, thoughtful – and her logical drive to keep knowledge alive was commendable. She was everything he admired in a personality. So he hoped that she would assign him tasks where he’d work closely with her.

“Ok,” Dawn looked down at her watch. “Time for a two hour break. Be back at 3.” She patted one of the girl’s shoulders before the teen was able to boot after her friends. “Amber, I need you to show these two around,” she explained as she nodded to the two new clones who were shifting from foot-to-foot in barely contained excitement.

“Do I have to?” Amber whined.

“Yes you do.” Dawn’s expression was one of ‘don’t dare say no’. “I think you kids will get to like these ones. They’re not like the construction crew.”

“Yeah, yeah – that’s what you said about the medbots. They’re dull too.” The girl was obviously not thrilled to see any new clones.

“The medbots aren’t dull – they’re just focused on protecting us.”

Amber snorted and rolled her dark eyes. “And THAT’s why they are so fucking dull!”

Dawn’s eye’s flared, “Don’t you dare use that language around ME young lady!” The little woman seemed nine feet tall for a moment.

The girl backed down really quick. Her eyes dropped to the floor. “Sorry Mrs. Dawn,” she mumbled.

“Now take these two with you and introduce them to everyone,” this time it was an order, not a request.

Without another grumble, Amber motioned for the two excited clones to follow her.
Lieutenant couldn’t help but to feel a slight hint of happiness as his two comrades followed the teen away. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them – but they tended to be more of an impedance than help. For a moment his optics followed Dawn as she went around the table straightening papers – then he felt that he should act.

Hearing other papers, Dawn looked up and smiled as she noticed that the quiet clone had taken the initiative to help her. “Thank you Lieutenant.”

The warmth in her voice caused heat to flow over his circuits in a way he’d never experienced before. It wasn’t that his former owner had treated him badly, but Dawn was different in a subtle way. She was treating him as an equal. Like he was a human as well! “No problem ma-am.”

She chuckled under her breath as they continued to work. “Lieutenant is a strange thing to name a clone. So is BS and MC. Care to give me some insight to the choice?”

The Prowl clone shrugged a little. “Mr. Daniels felt that I should think of myself as a head security officer so he named me that. He used the acronym for Bluestreak for BS and couldn’t think of anything better suited for a Jazz clone than MC.”

Dawn’s eyes twinkled in humor. “The teens are going to give him hell for the other words that that acronym stands for you know.”

He met her eyes, his lips barely curling to show his very big internal smile. “I have also considered that possibility. I doubt it’ll phase him though.”

“So he’s a typical Bluestreak model then?”

“Affirmative ma-am.” His optics went back to his work of straightening papers.

“And you’re the typical Prowl model,” this was more a statement.

“Affirmative ma-am.” He didn’t see the sarcasm at all.

Stopping her work, Dawn grinned at the busy clone. “What programming packages do you three have?” If any of them knew – it would be the Prowl clone.

“All three of us were ordered with the Platinum package,” he replied.

Uh-oh, that meant they had all the programming that their real mechs would have – which included… “Shit,” Dawn mumbled as she sat down.

“Ma-am?” Lieutenant looked up, concerned at her reaction.

Putting her hands under her chin, Dawn met his brilliant blue optics. “I’m a straightforward type of person Lieutenant, so let me explain this rather bluntly. I’ve already had a hell of a time keeping those teens from humping like rabbits. And now you’re telling me that I’ve just introduced a pair of clones who are going to respond to the slightest hint of sexual interest?”

Ah, now he saw her concern. Taking her cue, he moved to sit across from her. This was what he was built to do – solve programs in a logical manner. “Many people use us to relieve those pressures without the risk of disease or pregnancy.”

Drumming her fingertips on the tabletop, Dawn considered that fact. “Sorry, I’m so used to clones who weren’t ordered with pleasure programming – that I’d just about forgot that fact.”

“So none of the construction crew or medbots have this programming?” Even though he’d never been given the chance to use those particular programs – Lieutenant couldn’t help but feel a tad sorry for them.

“Nope. Makes it nice since we can be close friends and work well with each other – even sleep together to keep warm – and not have anyone getting horny,” Dawn explained.

So this was one of those humans who didn’t look at clones with desire? For some illogical reason, a flash of mild disappointment went through his circuits. But it was ok with him. He enjoyed the fact that she wasn’t simply ordering him around – she was actually talking to him like he was an equal. “I will inform BS and MC that you do not wish for them to act upon pleasure stimuli,” he announced and stood up. It only made sense that this is what she was getting at.

She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “No, no, just sit down Lieutenant.”

He gave her a bemused look as he complied. Was it not her wish for there to be no human-clone interfacing going on? “I can ensure that they won’t interface ma-am.”

Giving him an ironic grin, she laughed. “Maybe I’ve been too worried about what their deceased parents might think. They ARE all over the age of 16.” With a resigned sigh, she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe it would be good for them to learn without the risk of pregnancy?”

Ok, this was completely opposite what she had said earlier – very illogical. “So, you want them to interface? I should….”

She stopped him again before he could get up and find the other two. “I think we should leave it unsaid either way.”

“That will leave them without specific guidelines to follow. Chaos may ensue.” This made no logical sense to the Prowl clone.

“You haven’t been around teens much have you?” Dawn laughed.

“No, but my programming..”

“Don’t listen to that. Teens follow no logical path with their actions. If we tell BC and MC not to interface with them – the teens will find every way possible to break that rule. If we tell BC and MC to interface with them – not a one of the teens will want them and it’ll hurt their feelings.” She paused for a moment, letting the Prowl clone try to digest the illogic. “So we simply leave it unsaid. Let them figure out which way to go.”

----------

Coming back in from his patrol, Lieutenant’s optics scanned the living room taking note of everything going on. Scrap had a bunch of plans in Dawn’s lap, explaining some new improvements he wanted to make to both the well-water system and the methane pit energy generator. Med the First Aid clone, had one of her feet in his lap and was wrapping up her ankle.

“Was there an accident?” the Prowl clone demanded to know as he strode up to them. If there was an accident – he should’ve been informed!

“Don’t worry ‘bout it Lieutenant. I just stepped in a hole, nothing to worry about,” Dawn replied. She turned her attention back to the plans.

“Is this your assessment?” he asked the mild-mannered medbot.

“Ah well,” Med glanced from the security bot to Dawn and back. He knew Dawn wouldn’t want anyone to worry about it – even though the ligaments were badly torn. But did he fear Dawn’s wrath more than Lieutenant’s? He decided he’d rather face the clone’s anger than the woman’s. “It’ll, uh, heal up fine as long as she doesn’t stress it for four weeks.”

The Prowl clone nodded his understanding of the medic’s orders. HE’D ensure that his adopted human would in no way stress it…….

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“No really Lieutenant, I can handle this myself.” Dawn tried to ward off his hands, to no effect. The clone pulled the towel from around her, hefted her up and carried her to the waiting tub.

“Med ordered you to stay off your ankle for four weeks, and you will follow his orders,” he stated without emotion.

“Dammit Lieutenant – I can hop to the tub if I need to!” She glared at the black-and-white clone as his digits went down the leg she’d draped over the side of the tub and began to unwrap the protective bandage from her very sore ankle.

“Then you chance damaging your other ankle. No, it is safer and more efficient for me to carry you.” Carefully, he began to unwrap her ankle with the technique that Med had shown him.

Grabbing the soap, Dawn made sure to splash the clone as she started to soap up. She did NOT like depending on anyone – period! “If I needed the help that badly, then Med or one of his gestalt would insist on helping me,” she snorted.

“They are busy patrolling for intruders and keeping the livestock and humans healthy.” His optics narrowed as he saw just how discolored and swollen her damaged ankle really was.

“And isn’t THAT what you’re supposed to be doing as well?” Dawn shot back. Propping up her other leg, she began to soap it up so that she could shave.

“I have completed my patrol shift. Now my responsibility is to ensure that you comply with doctor’s orders.” His optics drifted to the slow strokes of her razor blade. His pleasure programming fault against his tight control – cable pressed against his latched cod piece, demanding attention. He battled it down. Dawn had never shown interest in clones in that manner. She considered them platonic friends.

“I never gave you that assignment,” she reminded him for the tenth time in just the last hour that this argument had been going on.

“You adopted me, thus your safety and health are my responsibility.” He averted his optics as they threatened to drift up from her leg to the rest of her naked body. He must remain professional at all times….

But the clone couldn’t hide that quick shift of his optics from the woman. With a rather wicked grin, she realized just how she could get even with the over protective hen. “God are you a stubborn one,” she growled in feigned disgust.

“Dedicated to fulfilling my responsibilities,” he replied. Suddenly, the soap and razor were thrust in front of his face plate.

“Ok then, if I’m bloody stuck with you acting like a mother hen – then you might as well help me!” She hid her smirk as a rather surprised expression covered his face plate. “I can’t contort myself enough to shave that leg. So why don’t you do it for me?” Her tone shifted from annoyance – to something else.

He swallowed hard as his pleasure programming almost broke through his tight control. All she wanted was grooming assistance – nothing else. Slowly, he copied her actions on the leg, avoiding her swollen ankle as best he could.

Although he was good at keeping his face free of emotion, Dawn could spy the slightest tremor in him – indicating his internal battle of wills. Reaching her arm out, she ran a finger along the inside edge of one of his doorwings.

Optics widening in surprise over the rush of pleasure signals coming from his door wing, Lieutenant jerked it away from her.

“You’ve got smudges and dirt,” Dawn said as she hid her internal snicker. Grabbing her wet had towel, she signaled for him to turn his door wing back to her so that she could clean off the imaginary mess.

“I’m fine. I will have MC buff it out in the morning.” The Prowl clone was barely able to control his impulsive pleasure programs just shaving her leg – there was no way he’d maintain that control if she activated his sensitive door wing grids.

“If you’re going to demand to be MY mother hen – then you’ll have to deal with me demanding to be YOUR mother hen! So give me that filthy door now!” Pulling herself a bit out of the tub, Dawn made a grab at the offending door wing.

Warm water splashed over his lower chassis, combining with the heat of desire that was already building. That and the fact that her chest was now up out of the water with soap suds dripping sensuously down them – was simply too much for the security clone. Scrambling back out of her range, he patted heavily as he fought to push his pleasure programs back into the hole he hid them in.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Dawn purred with a rather evil grin. Sitting up even more, she made sure to give him a good view of her breasts.

“I, um….” For once he actually was glossa-tied. His optics locked onto her breasts. He couldn’t tear them away. His cable screamed to be let out, screamed to be paid attention to for the first time in his life.

Oh, this was perfect. These clones reacted just like teenaged boys. To see her dead-serious and logical friend – become a fast breathing stuttering piece of clone masculinity – was simply hysterical. “Is this what you really desire?” she asked sweetly as she cupped one of her breasts with her hand and licked a nipple as if she really wanted the clone.

Oh primus, he couldn’t keep his pleasure programs from responding! With a dismayed yelp, he felt the clasp break – freeing his desperate cable. “But…. But you don’t look at us like that,” he stammered. His voice was filled with pleading, as if he had longed for her to look at him like that for the past few months that they’d been ‘friends’.

It was a little surprising that he’d lost control that quickly, and the tone in his voice told her that he’d been hoping she’d want him one day. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt washed over her. Leaning against the tub’s side, she effectively hid her breasts from his view. “I’m sorry Lieutenant, I just wanted to embarrass you so that you’d quit being an overprotective nannybot.”

His core sank like a ton of coal. She didn’t want him for anything more than a friend. He looked down at his half-deflated cable, his face plate covered in a frown. “I should have understood the tactic. It is quite effective.” He kept his tone level, hiding the fact that the disappointment ran so deeply. This was the first human who’d treated him as an equal. The first human who he’d felt to be temperamentally compatible. And the first human who’d rejected him.

Dawn couldn’t take it, “Come here,” she cooed and held out her arms.

Slowly, he came and leaned against the side of the tub, allowing her arms to go around him. He didn’t know what to say in this situation. Didn’t know how he was supposed to react.

“I’m sorry Lieutenant,” she said as she held his head against her shoulder. “I didn’t realize you’d get so emotional.” She rocked him slightly and kissed the side of his helm. “You’re my best friend now; I don’t want to ruin that.”

He blinked back tears of rejection, willing himself to maintain a semblance of composure. “I just…..” he couldn’t finish the thought. Couldn’t bear to inform someone that he’d wanted more than what they were willing to give.

“You just what?” Dawn rubbed the back of his helm, trying to comfort him – even though she’d caused it.

“Nevermind, it is of no importance,” his reply was soft, needy. He just wanted to stay here in her arms. Even if she didn’t want him for interface – at least she’d called him her best friend.

Dawn pushed him back so that he had to face her. “It is of importance. Tell me.”

He shook his head, it would mean more rejection, he couldn’t voice his desires. He was nothing but a clone. He couldn’t demand anything of a human.

She could feel shudders running lightly through him. The way he tried to avoid her eyes. The way his door wings were drooping…. The body language was so – human.. The experienced teacher knew without a doubt that Lieutenant must’ve been harboring a secret crush towards her. And her actions had brought it to the forefront. Now the clone was crushed, rejected…. And it was her fault. “God Lieutenant, you’ve got a crush on me don’t you?”

He couldn’t say it. Looking down at the ground – he could barely manage to nod.

Putting a hand under his jaw, she forced him to meet her eyes. “I’m flattered, I really really am.”

His optics searched her face, his core desperate for her not to reject him. He berated himself silently for allowing his emotions to come out. Nothing good ever came of it… She was fixing to reject him..

She studied his gray face plate. Noticing how ‘human’ the thin supple alloy felt under her fingertips. He was handsome – in a strange clone way. He had many desirable traits for a ‘man’ – he was strong, steady, protective, caring… But he was a machine – not a man! Yet, he was her friend.. Her strength when she needed it. “I just….” How should she phrase this? She didn’t want him to blame himself for being a clone. It wasn’t his fault that he was built – not born. “I’ve just had really bad luck with relationships.” That WAS the truth.

So, she was afraid to get close to a male? It wasn’t because he was a clone?!? The Prowl clone’s optics brightened in response to his mood. “I will always be loyal to you. I’ll protect you. I’ll…..” A finger stopped him from continuing to list the positives of having him as a mate.

“Let’s take it one day at a time. I know that you’re different from my ex-husbands. It’s that difference I’ve got to get used to.”

So there was a chance! Lieutenant’s optics beamed with silent happiness. He wanted to lean forward… Kiss her…. He found himself curling his digits in her hair. Pulling her towards him…. His lips touching hers just lightly – not a true kiss…. But the emotion and intention was still there.

Taken a little by surprise at his boldness Dawn looked into his optics, their lips still almost touching. His sweet smelling out take of air warm on her cheek. “Am I your first?” she asked. Why she asked – she didn’t really know. But she had to know. She was a teacher. She knew that things had to be handled differently with an inexperienced man versus and experienced man.

“Yes,” he whispered in reply. He was lost in her eyes, her nearness. The smell of the Lavender conditioner in her wet hair….

“Then I am your teacher as well as your friend,” she whispered back. Leaning forward she took his lips. First just tender kisses, causing his engine to hum in excitement, his digits trembled as they stroked her wet locks. Then she pressed tightly to him, her tongue pressing against his lips, demanding entrance. His engine roared as he let her in. Let her tongue explore his dentals, taste him.

She pulled away for just a moment. An involuntary shiver going through her from the cooling water. “Well, first you need to help me out of this tub before I freeze.”

His chassis still humming in warmth from the taste of her on his glossa, Lieutenant nodded. “And second?”

“We’ll go back to the bed, cuddle – and you’re going to figure out how to kiss back.” Her teasing smile was contagious and the quiet clone’s face plate heated up slightly as his lips curled up just ever so slightly…..

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Lost and Found - in more ways than one