“Stunticons.”
The word came out hard and heavy with import – Rodimus Prime’s “business voice,” never a good sign. Marissa Fairborne, securely buckled in the passenger’s seat of the Autobot’s cab, leaned against the window to look in the side mirror. Motormaster’s grill was closer than it appeared, and as she watched Drag Strip veered into the mirror’s view, not seeming to care that he was straddling the yellow divide. She couldn't see the other three members of the Decepticon gestalt team in the mirror's limited view - it was a narrow road, bounded by a steep cliff on one side and a steeper drop on the other - but only the presence of a full gestalt could ruffle Rodimus Prime to that degree. They were there, and they wouldn't stay hidden behind Motormaster's bulk for long.
A muffled shout of challenge reached Marissa’s ears, cutting through the omnipresent thrum of her friend’s engine block and the whoosh of mountain air past the windows. “Can you outrun them?” she asked.
“We’re about to find out,” Rodimus answered, and leaped into a higher gear; Marissa was momentarily overrun, with a gasp and a clutch at her seat, with an impression of the pure, lithe speed that had been Hot Rod’s creation-right. Whatever he had sacrificed to his upgrade, though, he received back again now in near-deafening horsepower. Surging over the blacktop, Rodimus answered his pursuers’ challenge with a shout of his own. Catch me if you can!
The Stunticons roared in answer and exploded after their prey; Marissa flinched back as Motormaster's cab loomed in the side window. "They're gaining!" she exclaimed.
"No kidding." Rodimus launched himself over the road, and the Stunticons fanned out in pursuit, shouting epithets. "Slag!" The cab lurched and Marissa clung to the dashboard.
"What's going on?" she demanded.
"Took the turn too fast," Rodimus replied tightly. "Almost went over the cliff." An expelled breath through the air conditioner, then, more quietly, "That's how I lost the Matrix the last time." Underneath Marissa's seat, the powerful rumble quieted, slackened, barely noticeable - but Marissa was a combat pilot, and was aware of the workings of engines as she was aware of her own body.
"Don't slow down," she snapped. Rodimus did not reply. His engine-hum dropped another notch and held through another curve, as Drag Strip cleared Motormaster's bulk at last and started a run at Rodimus's passenger side - his half-blind side. "On your right," Marissa said, watching his approach.
"I know." The engine-hum didn't heighten. As Marissa watched helplessly, tensely, Drag Strip idled along next to Rodimus's trailer, almost meandering up the Prime's length, promising with his very idleness a burst of speed and a charging attack on the next curve.
"Rodimus," the captain said evenly. "Give me the wheel."
"What?" Rodimus nearly swerved off again as Marissa clicked off her seat belt. "Marissa, what are you doing?"
"I'm taking the wheel." Marissa swung her legs over the emergency brake and settled herself into the drivers' seat.
"What? But - ah!" Rodimus jerked to the left, nearly swiping his driver's side mirror off on the cliff face. Marissa winced and clasped the steering wheel in both hands as Drag Strip jeered from the passenger side.
"Rodimus!" she shouted. "I can get us out of this. Give me the wheel!" She wrapped her hands around it, at two and ten, just like in driver's school. "Trust me, dammit!"
"Marissa, I can't - you don't - !" Rodimus's voice hitched, and his engine spun in a rising whine that lanced through Marissa's ears. She winced, and her seat shuddered under her like the last throes of something dying.
"Before the next curve, Rodimus," Marissa told him, and ran her fingers down the wheel. Rodimus shuddered as before them the road veered sharply to the left in a drop-off. "I can take you through it," she whispered, "I can fly you through it."
The road thundered under the young Prime's tires, almost drowning out the howls of their pursuers. Endless blue sky loomed ahead, death promised in its empty gaze.
"Take it!" the Prime shouted, and his steering wheel came loose in her hands.
"Yes," she hissed, and wrenched the steering column, taking her friend into the treacherous curve with a screech of tires. The Stunticons followed flawlessly, fearlessly, Drag Strip and Wildrider claiming their places on either side of Rodimus's trailer, Breakdown and Dead End at his bumper, Motormaster lashing them on from the rear. "It only gets wilder from here," Marissa said breathlessly, changing gears just to feel Rodimus's powerful engine spin harder at her command. "Give me all you've got, Rodimus."
"It's yours, Marissa..." Rodimus's voice strained and cracked in rhythm with the delicious tremors running through his cab. She grinned like a wolf and cut across the median at the next curve, forcing Drag Strip back to avoid getting crushed. He squalled in protest as Marissa pulled Rodimus ahead.
"Overdrive," Rodimus murmured as Drag Strip jockeyed for the position on his other side that Wildrider refused to yield. "Take me into overdrive, Marissa."
Marissa glanced at the side mirrors, scowled and swerved to the right, cutting Breakdown off. "I'm saving that."
"For what?" Rodimus protested. "There's nothing stopping you!"
"I know." Marissa smiled and let up off the gas. This time Rodimus's gasp was almost a moan, harsh and ragged. The Stunticons crowded him, all but pressed bumper-to-shuddering bumper, trying to force them off the road.
"Marissa," Rodimus pleaded.
Marissa slammed the gas pedal; Rodimus roared, with voice and engine, and surged ahead, scattering the Stunticons for a moment. "I'm gonna ride you hard, Rodimus," the young captain told him, and reached down to the gearshift.
As her strong fingers came in contact with the handle, Rodimus rumbled against her thighs appreciatively. "I hear you." His odometer twitched and shuddered at the fifty, then started to climb. "Do it, Marissa! Overdrive, now!"
"Not yet." Marissa swallowed, surprised at the hoarseness in her voice. "Not – just – yet – "
"Please!" Rodimus roared and bucked underneath her. Marissa gasped and, almost without conscious thought, hit the clutch and slid the shaft home.
Screaming in ecstasy, Rodimus threw himself over the asphalt, smoke and pebbles flying in his wake. Somewhere dimly in their minds they were aware of the Stunticons shouting in surprise and swerving, braking, paying homage to the Prime and his rider by getting the hell out of their way. Rodimus and Marissa left their pursuers in their dust, took the last curve and were lost.
The pair didn't slow until they reached the foot of the mountain, three hairpin turns and no end of impassioned cries later. Rodimus slowed, pulled off and transformed, Marissa cradled in his arms. "Are you all right?" he panted.
Marissa grinned and reclined in his arms, sweat plastering her curls to her forehead. "Don't be ridiculous, Rodimus - Roddy," she amended, switching to her companion's nickname. "I'm more fearsome than I look, you know."
"I know." Rodimus carefully lowered himself to the ground, groaning a little as overstressed tensors protested the motion. "You're terrifying."
"Flattery will get you nowhere." Marissa sighed and turned in his embrace, curling against his chest. "Do you think anyone will mind if we rest here a moment...?"
"If anybody messes with us, I'll run 'em off," he promised, but Marissa was already asleep. Smiling softly, Rodimus Prime settled back with Marissa sheltered in his arms, watching the warm sky of his adoptive planet.