Akane: "Miss Brookes. Who are they?"

He asked, looking at the trio.

Jasmine: "They're the new hires, Dearest, the ones Daniel was raving about? Anywho, there's some riff-raff outside and they must get back to their hotel. You know how it is."

He nodded.

Akane: "Jackson and George will accompany them."

He said very matter-of-factly and gently led me out of the cafe. I nodded at Jimmy briefly, and he nodded back, knowing I was safe again. Even better: I knew the girls would be safe with George and Jackson.

I had bodyguards for a reason, and if I trusted these boys with my life, I knew they could be trusted with that of the girls.

Of course, the car ride home was a tad bit . . .  awkward. Akane was a bit more quiet than usual, and it drove me absolutely crazy. I knew he was upset, though he’d never let on, when he was this quiet.

And, well, I couldn’t really blame him. In the spread of a day, I’d driven off and hadn’t returned home for who knew how long, sleeping in my car on the side of the road (bad idea), freaked out on him, gone nuts on the punching bag, taken off without him AGAIN, and called him with the information of another possible assailant being nearby . . . oh yeah. I could DEFINITELY understand his being upset.

That didn’t mean I was fond of it, but I understood.

I stared out the window, feeling very much like a teenage girl who’d been caught out past curfew by her father. Which was absolutely ridiculous because Akane wasn’t that much older than me.

Actually, I’d been sixteen when I’d woken up. At least, that was the best I could figure. My last memories were in my early days of being sixteen. I felt aged beyond that, but I guessed it was just the stress of being kidnapped by giant robots that pushed me to that.

I sighed, feeling the car pull to a stop in the driveway. Yes, Akane had been forced to take my car to get me. It was ridiculous, and I wasn’t fond of anyone else driving her.

Oh well. I got out, heading inside, exhausted. Maybe a little rest would help . . . I tensed for a moment. That was unlikely considering recent events.

~General Narration: Orion~

    He stared at the television, watching the interview for what had to have been at least the twentieth time now. He was desperate for contact with her. If only she knew of him, certainly she’d be drawn to him as well. Right?

    He didn’t know what he’d do if she knew and wanted nothing to do with him.

    He ached thinking she wouldn’t want him. That she didn’t want him. But how could she want him if she didn’t even know he existed?

    Jason had mentioned before a mental illness where people fall in love with celebrities and fantasize that the celebrities love them back . . . this wasn’t something as delusional as that, was it . . . ?

    He certainly hoped not. He felt a deeper connection with this woman, even if she had no idea who he was, even if they’d never met.

    He sighed. It was such a bittersweet emotion to look at her. All at once it made him feel loved and lonely.

    “It’s not healthy,” Jason had said time and again, but Orion didn’t care. He wanted nothing more than to meet her in person, to have her near. He was certain if he could just TALK to her, she’d feel what he felt and they’d be all right.

    He sighed again, watching her walk off the set, a soft smile on her pink lips.

Orion: “What a beautiful maiden . . .”

    He wasn’t sure why, but that word seemed so appropriate for her. She appeared very much the modern woman, but he could tell, he just KNEW, that on the inside, she held herself to a higher standard than so many young women who ran around at drinking parties, doing unseemly things. He just knew she wasn’t like that. Ever since she’d broken onto the movie scene at seventeen, he knew there was more to her. He’d watched her movies since before he was even a fighter, and he’d hoped so badly that as he climbed to fame, she’d notice him back.

    So far, that dream had stayed a simple dream. And it was torturous. Oh, what he would give to have her near. To know that during every match, she was cheering him on, and whenever she was filming, he could go visit her on set and be greeted warmly.

    He smiled at the small fantasy, raking a hand through his short, messy, black hair. His eyes were a bright blue, and he’d often been told they were quite a striking feature.

    He took out the small slip of paper again. The one he always kept near. A few things were scribbled there: Orion Pax. Twenty. Greek. Loved very much. Engaged. Handsome.

    He bit his lip, trying not to let it get to him.

    Obviously, wherever the paper had come from, he hadn’t been the one to write it. He wondered who had, but the only answer he got was “maiden”. That simple, silly word, the one that made him think of Jasmine Brookes.

    Who was she? And why did she occupy so much of his brain power.

    The match he’d had earlier had been rigorous, and after defeating his opponent, he’d sworn that he’d felt her watching him. He’d scanned the crowds desperately, heart beating rapidly, but had found nothing.

    He’d cursed under his breath, scolding himself for hours thinking that he’d missed her. What if she had been there? What if he could have been no more than a few hundred yards from being face-to-face with her?

    The thought broke him a little bit. It tore at his heart. Or, whatever it was resting in his chest. If he knew anything about human anatomy, he knew it wasn’t a heart. He also knew he wasn’t normal. But he never used his abnormality to his advantage in the ring. He’d sworn he would never abuse it.

    More often than not, he’d actually hold back in the ring, trying to be cautious with his competitors.

    It didn’t matter too much, because more often than not, he won.

    He sighed again. What did it matter? He could have every trophy out there, every title, every medal. But he didn’t care if he couldn’t have her.

    Every time she started dating someone new, it took a stab at him, and every time the pair would break up, it gave him a surge of hope.

    He knew that he had to make a move. And soon. But how could he possibly go about courting her? Love letters for weeks? Just showing up at her door, saying that he loved her and believed they were meant for each other? Yeah, that’d get his point across. And probably land him in jail, too. Or at least with a few bruises from a bodyguard.

    It wasn’t that he couldn’t defend himself or put up a fight, but he didn’t want Jasmine to see him harm someone seriously. He didn’t think it would be the right way to about impressing her . . .

    And oddly enough, he was suffering from dreams that plagued him day in and day out. It puzzled him to no end, but it always ended in an emotionally volatile reaction for the first few moments after waking.

    There were two discernible, repetitive dreams he suffered from: one type was a continuing story, where he was this impossibly large robotic . . . mech . . . he wasn’t sure where the word came from, but it was a natural one for him to use. And he was irresistibly drawn to a . . . femme, smaller than him by quite a bit, but just as versatile.

    Battles, secrets, lies, affection and . . . promises. So many promises.

    ‘Maiden . . .’

    The word echoed again, and he rewound the TV, watching her again on the screen, sitting in his otherwise dark penthouse.

    Her image always dissipated the visions of the other dreams he had. Ones of another man coming to him, on the street, in the ring, in some strange office he’d never seen before . . . demanding that he stay away from Jasmine Brookes . . .

    Oddly enough, that made him even more desperate to be near her, to get closer and make sure she was alive and well. That she was unharmed.

    The red of the man’s eyes . . . was so horribly concerning . . .

    He shook his head slowly. She was safe. He knew she was safe.

    But maybe a short letter wouldn’t be so bad after all . . . he could remain anonymous, and when the time came, he could reveal himself, and she’d be so in love with his words she’d accept him regardless . . . He grinned. It was a long shot taken in the dark.

    But any shot he had, he’d take. Orion immediately took to paper, penning down his thoughts and emotions quickly, going through several revisions, up until nearly 3 A.M., making sure the entire two, small paragraphs were absolutely perfect.

    He exhaled softly. For the first time in a long time, he felt much better about his feelings for that woman. Jasmine. That beautiful maiden Jasmine . . .

    He would speak with Sara tomorrow shortly before going to that ranch. If anyone he knew could get these letters to Jasmine discreetly, she could. She’d done both of their interviews as they were breaking out.

    He nodded lightly, to no one in particular, but to his own thoughts. Yes, perhaps this was the first step that would lead to so much more . . .

~First-Person Narration: Jasmine~

    Okay, so yeah. Sleep was definitely not my friend lately. First I’m a giant, pregnant ROBOT and now THIS of all things?

    I groaned, groggy from a vicious blow to the head.

???: “PROMISE ME!”

    He roared, a large, powerful hand gripping my jaw, turning my head, forcing me to look at him.

    His eyes were so, so red . . . but I swore I saw purple surge in them as his anger grew.

Jasmine: “I . . . d-don’t . . . know . . . what you’re talking about . . .”

    His response came in a low growl, viciously red eyes going over every inch of me. I suddenly felt very self-conscious . . . and very, very slimy . . .

    He released me.

???: “I have explained it to you every fragging TIME, Maiden! How can you not remember?!”

    My eyebrows stitched together slowly, trying to recall him.

    Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Jasmine: “I . . . I don’t know you . . .”

    And this only seemed to enrage him.

???: “I VISIT YOU AT NIGHT HOW MANY TIMES AND YOU DON’T KNOW ME?!”

    I shook my head quickly, closing my eyes, a few tears creeping into them.

Jasmine: “I don’t have a clue, okay?! I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know who you are, I don’t remember much of anything from night! You’re just a figment of my imagination and I don’t know why I can’t just dream you away!”

    He laughed. It was so, very cruel. I felt him hold my chin in his grasp again, turning my head towards him, forcing me to look at those awfully crimson eyes . . .

???: “I am no dream, Maiden, I can assure you of that. And you will make me that promise, whether you like it or not . . .”

    His voice was so menacing . . . and that name . . . ‘Maiden’ . . . surely this was some trick played by my mind, RIGHT? There was absolutely no way this could be Optimus . . . right . . . ? Oh, I wished so desperately someone knew and would agree with me and say “YOU. ARE. CRAZY. THAT IS NOT OPTIMUS.”

    The man, the robotic man, I’d seen in my dreams . . . he was not nearly so cruel. He wasn’t cruel AT ALL, actually.

    This man could not be Optimus . . . if . . . Optimus was even real . . . dream or not, at this moment all I wanted was to have Optimus here. To have him near, to expel this man from my mind.

    I closed my eyes tightly, wishing I wasn’t tied to this chair, either. What an awful dream. What awful images. I wished so, so dearly for the man . . . no. No. Not man . . . mech. Yes, that word felt right . . . the mech I knew in my other dreams as Optimus.

    He was so kind, so dear, and I felt like just outside this dream I would know him . . . If I could just get him here, I would recall him . . . he HAD to be real . . . I didn’t know what I would do if he wasn’t . . .

???: “You will always be mine, Maiden . . . no one can ever change that . . .”

    The tears began slipping from my eyes, small sobs choking out of my throat.

Jasmine: “I don’t even know you!”

    He laughed again. The tears came faster, harder. This was so confusing and frustrating, and horrendously dreadful.

    I wished I could wake up. Or have someone help me out of this. Away from this control freak who so obviously had a love-hate thing for me. What had I ever done to HIM?

    I tried taking deep breaths . . . in . . . out . . .

Jasmine: Think of something happier . . . think of the mech . . . think of Optimus . . . he’s so kind . . . he’s so strong . . . think of him . . .

    I smiled weakly, still crying, eyes closed.

    And then it happened. This office. This odd place I had never seen before but felt vaguely familiar . . . well, it was no longer occupied by just two of us . . . another man, his presence undeniable, was soon in the room with us, but I refused to open my eyes.

    I could hear blows land. I could hear things break.

    I was too terrified to open my eyes. I didn’t know if this was going to be worse than the unknown man or better . . . the way my night was going, I was betting worse.

    When the sounds of fighting ceased, I opened my eyes cautiously. I saw the man, silver hair, weird haircut and all, his red eyes closed, his body half slumped against the wall, the rest on the floor. I saw the incredibly tense figure of a man, he had to have been at least 6’4”, standing, fists clenched, his back to me, breathing heavily.

    His figure was shadowed enough that I couldn’t make out the features of his face, even though it was turned so that I could see it’s silhouette. I should have been able to study it . . . but I’d snapped my eyes shut quickly. Trying not to sob, still terrified. What if this man did something worse than the last?

    I struggled slightly in the chair, trying to free myself of the rope. AllSpark, I hated being restrained . . .

    AllSpark . . . ?

    I didn’t have time to wonder where it had come from, strong hands cupped my face, but they were so, so gentle.

    I still jerked my head away, trying to keep him from touching me.

Jasmine: “NO!”

    His voice was so, so gentle.

???: “Jasmine, please look at me . . .”

    His hands took my face again, softer than I ever imagined they’d be. I choked out a sob, opening my eyes slowly, head still turned.

    And I saw this bright, deep blue. It was so . . . calming, wonderful . . . loving.

    For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Jasmine: “Orion . . .”

    It was half question, half statement, but he didn’t seem to care. The tension in his body from the brief . . . conflict had faded. His muscles were relaxed again. He smiled.

Orion: “You know me . . .”

    His hands were now working at the restraints,and in a matter of seconds I was free again. My ams immediately flew around his neck.

Jasmine: “Of course I know you . . . Thank you . . .”

    His arms were quick around my waist, pulling me close.

Orion: “I love you . . . so much, Jasmine . . . I’ve waited so long to say it . . .”

    For whatever reason, though I’d just met him, inexplicably knew his name and had just heard him confess to loving me, I wasn’t creeped out like I should have been. This all felt very natural. Very . . . repetitive . . .

Jasmine: “I love you, Optimus.”

Orion: “I love you, too, Maiden.”

    I cried softly.

Jasmine: “It’s a dream, isn’t it . . . ?”

Orion: “I’m afraid it is . . .”

    I sobbed again.

Jasmine: “Please don’t leave me.”

Orion: “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice . . . I promise it’s only a temporary goodbye, Sweetspark . . . I'll find you . . .”

Jasmine: “But-.”

    And just like that, I was back in my bed, being woken up by none other than Angela.

Angela: “Sugar? Sugar are you all right?”

    I stared up at her, unable to really get a fix on her face, or her appearance in general. I swore there was this faint light coming through the moonlight streaming in the window, striking right behind her head. She looked like an angel . . .

    I nodded slowly.

Jasmine: “I’m . . . I’m all right . . . why’d you wake me up . . . ?”

    She looked slightly taken aback, and a tad bit puzzled.

Angela: “Akane called and said you were crying in your sleep again. You know how he is about coming in here at night, and . . . he tried to wake you. He was desperate . . . he said you wouldn’t wake up. And he said you had a nasty bruise on your temple. He didn’t know who else to call . . .”

    I nodded again, barely processing her words.

Jasmine: “Can I go back to bed now . . . ?”

    My eyes closed slowly, but I still saw Angela’s small expression of shock.

Angela: “Yes. Of course, Sugar. But if you need me, I’ll be here for the rest of the night.”

    I didn’t hear anything else from her. I was too tired. All I knew was my body’s deep desire for sleep.

    And that man.

    Who was he?

    And why did I wish so desperately to see him again?

    I had no idea whatsoever . . .