Fraternizing ch30

After much arguing with Optimus, it was finally decided that Nightstalker did not have to serve the extra two weeks.

Actually, it was only Nightstalker arguing against him. She argued that he had said she could never leave base while he quite calmly pointed out that he said she couldn't leave the base to FLY, and during the excursion she joined to help save him from the Decepticons, she had not flown. He also commended her for her bravery, was impressed at her fortitude of honorable spark, and did not feel that the need of two extra weeks was necessary.

And now, Nightstalker only had two days. Two days! Her excitement was a drastic foil to Optimus feeling guilty over the information he had given to the Decepticons, but after Bumblebee recovered the Spark Extractor, things were starting to look up some. Instead, because Nightstalker was stir crazy and the stasis cuffs had been put on her wings again to restrain her, Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, and Bulkhead all sat on the floor in a semicircle as she told them more about her family. It was a touching gesture of Cliffjumper to distract her like this, and it was working.

"Fli-Ni and I didn't have the same father," Nightstalker said, unconsciously trying to move her wings locked in cuffs. "Fli-Ni said Mom told him his dad was a gladiator."

"A gladiator?" Cliffjumper jumped in. He quirked a brow. "Serious?"

Nightstalker nodded. "Yeah. Said he had a brother too, but he doesn't know either of their names."

*Do you know your mom's name?* Bumblebee asked.

Nightstalker nodded again. "Sure. Mom's name was Ampere."

All three mechs shook their heads--none of them had heard of her.

Nightstalker shrugged. "I didn't expect you to. We were a pretty invisible family." Tapping a finger thoughtfully, Nightstalker smiled. "Fli-Ni was always excited about growing up. He said he was going to get as big as his dad. He didn't really remember what he looked like, but he did remember how big he was. Fli-Ni also had really ornamental armor. It looked good on him. Looked pretty deadly. He said he got that from his dad too." Nightstalker wrinkled her nose and looked down at herself. "I got my armor from Mom. Fli-Ni said I looked almost the spitting image of Mom."

Nightstalker gave a shrug and leaned back on her servos. "Fli-Ni said Mom changed his helm. He said she said something about it being too "easily noticed" and that people would know who his father was with one look. When Fli-Ni asked why that was bad, she wouldn't tell him."

Bulkhead frowned. "Would it have made her a target somehow?"

Nightstalker gave another helpless shrug and spread her hands. "I have no idea. As far as I know, my helm hasn't been changed."

"Well, good," Cliffjumper said with a wink. "It makes you look cute."

Nightstalker narrowed her optics at him. "Yeah, and keep that up and Arcee's gonna throttle you. Don't come crying to me for help when you've got a dent in you the size of the Grand Canyon."

Cliffjumper roared in laughter. "It was just a tease!" he chortled. "Besides, Arcee's just jealous. I'm surprised I don't get knocked out for just LOOKING at you!"

Nightstalker rolled her optics and cut her gaze towards said femme. True, she was glaring sourly at Cliffjumper, but she didn't hold any animosity towards Nightstalker anymore. After a halting, awkward, and almost unsaid apology towards Nightstalker, Nightstalker had finally let the femme know it was all right, and they were as square as they could get--until Cliffjumper said something awkward again. Sometimes, Nightstalker just wanted to strangle the mech he could be so annoying . . . and then other times he was as sweet as could be.

*Do you know anything about your dad?* Bumblebee asked.

Nightstalker vented sharply. "No," she said, "for the most part, I don't. Fli-Ni doesn't remember much of him only that my dad was scrawny and he didn't like him." Cliffjumper and Bulkhead busted out laughing, and even Bumblebee giggled before regaining control of himself. Nightstalker grinned and shook her head. "I have no idea who he was, other than the fact that he was a seeker too, and he was involved in the war. That's why Mom didn't keep any contact with him. She didn't want to get involved in the war."

"But wait," Bulkhead said suddenly. His optics widened. "Nightstalker, having a sparkling takes both bots being bonded. Your mom double bonded? Did Fli-Ni's dad die?"

Nightstalker's optics darkened. "Well . . . Fli-Ni said something about it being Mom changing his helm that ruined it. She didn't want to be associated with HIS dad because he was getting involved in the war, and he said he remembered a night was there was a lot of yelling, and then, after that, his dad didn't come around anymore. He wasn't really sure what happened, and Mom wouldn't tell him anything . . ." Nightstalker shook her head. "He said she started seeing my dad soon after that. After having me, she broke it off with him too because of the war. We assume she broke the bond with Fli-Ni's dad so she could get bonded to mine."

*Gosh,* Bumblebee cooed quietly. *That's so sad. Fli-Ni's dad had to be spark broken if she broke the bond. Not many can survive that."

Nightstalker gave a helpless shrug. "Guess Mom was really strong. Guess that's where I got it." Nightstalker vented quietly, leaning her head back to look at the ceiling. "I think, when Mom died and Fli-Ni and I were on the streets, the worst nights were when it was really cold. We'd bundle up in an abandoned building and connect sparks to share heat. It was even worse if we were running on empty tanks or lonely, but Fli-Ni was always there for me. And he somehow ALWAYS managed to get us some fuel. He got really good at sneaking around, so he always managed to get something, whether it was a cube or an energon lolli or a Visco. We both got REALLY sick one night off of Visco." Nightstalker snorted at the memory and shook her head, snickering quietly. "One of the worst nights of my life. We were purging everywhere."

"Bumblebee! Bulkhead!"

Bumblebee groaned at Ratchet's voice. *Aw, man . . . I guess it's our turn to go scouting*

Nightstalker rolled her optics and pushed Bee when he lagged behind Bulkhead. "Get out of here," she said with a smirk. Her optics sparked. "Just think--two more days, and I'll be able to go with you!"

Bumblebee's optics lit up then, and he scooped her up in an excited hug. *That's right! I can't wait, it's going to be a blast!* With that, he hurried off with Bulkhead, much more excited than before.

Nightstalker grinned at her accomplishment of making Bumblebee's emotions lift, but she wasn't prepared for Cliffjumper to grab her servo and say, "All right, enough playing around! We've got work to do!"

As he started to drag her to the back, Nightstalker yanked against him, sputtering, "Wh-What?"

"You sucked ball bearings trying to fight Megatron!" he declared bluntly, making Nightstalker wrinkle her nose. She pulled against him again.

"I wasn't THAT bad--"

"Enough stalling!" Cliffjumper said, and Nightstalker shrieked when he picked her up and literally slung her over his shoulder. She kicked futilely as he said, "You need practice! First thing's first--get yourself free from me!"

Nightstalker kicked and squirmed, but his grip was solid. As he forcefully took her back to the training room, Nightstalker felt herself wanting to explode from how irritating he could be.

"CLIFFJUMPER!"

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It was a cold bucket of water. It crashed over Nightstalker as she looked at Bumblebee so dejected on Ratchet's medical berth, and she realized, she may be taking that first flight of freedom without Bumblebee.

M.E.C.H. And their knowledge of Cybertronian physiology was growing deeper.

"But, why would they want Bumblebee's T-Cog?" Raf asked.

*I don't know* Bumblebee muttered sharply, *but I'm not going to let them have it. Raf's right--and I'm going to ask them nice and polite what they did to me* But, they all knew with one look at his demeanor that he was going to be anything BUT nice to them.

Nightstalker shifted uncomfortably, sympathizing in Bumblebee's pains as her wings strained against the cuffs. Optimus laid a hand on Bumblebee. "Bumblebee, please," he said gently, "you are not presently equipped to handle this."

The hesitation in words was so slight Nightstalker almost missed it, but she applauded Optimus's ability to handle such a delicate situation so well. He did well in skirting over the issue that Bumblebee was handicapped and couldn't do anything to protect himself without his blasters.

Instead, Nightstalker was surprised to hear Bumblebee mutter in frustration, *Yeah, well, you don't know what it's like to lose something like this.*

"You are mistaken, my friend," Optimus said gently to Bumblebee, and Nightstalker felt her spark swell--when Optimus dropped the leader façade and called you a friend, you know how much he wanted to comfort you. His hand came up to rest on Bumblebee's shoulder. "I do know what it is like to lose a vital part of one's self."

Now THAT stung. Nightstalker compared Optimus's situation to her own confinement and Bumblebee's loss, and she couldn't help but feel that losing a T-Cog was paltry compared to losing your entire being, your own memories.

"And, as a result," Optimus said, "I know the value of putting one's faith in the strength of those around you. We vow to do everything in our power to make you whole again."

Bumblebee's helm dropped dejectedly, and Nightstalker felt her spark hurt. Cliffjumper decided to interject, "Yeah, don't you worry, Bee. We'll have your Cog back in no time!"

"And if not," Miko supplied helpfully, "Ratchet can just make you a new Cog-thing, right?"

Bumblebee blinked at her, half-sputtered a moment, and then he let out an absolutely frustrated cry before sitting heavily on the medical berth again, dropping his helm in his servos with a desolate whir.

Nightstalker cringed as Miko unwittingly crushed Bumblebee's hopes as soon as they started. "What'd I say?" Miko blurted.

"Miko," Ratchet growled, "a T-Cog is a BIO mechanism, not a scrap yard find. If it were that easy, don't you think I would have replaced Bumblebee's voice box by now?"

With that reminder, everything went to the pit. Bumblebee threw up his hands. *That's right, can't talk cause I have no voice box, can't transform without my T-Cog--I'm completely useless!*

Before Nightstalker had a chance to jump in, it was Raf that beat her to the punch.

"You're not worthless, Bee!" he cried out, absently pushing up his glasses.

Bumblebee looked down at Raf a moment, but his optics whirred sadly. He turned away, slumping over. *Whatever . . .*

Nightstalker moved up and sat next to him, putting a silent arm of comfort around him as Bulkhead said, "All right, all right, I say none of us transform until Bumblebee gets his cog back!"

"You're spark's in the right place, Bulkhead," Arcee said bluntly, "but I don't think now is the time to be limiting ourselves."

"Not with Megatron potentially seeking other doomsday devices," Optimus said strictly. "And I fear, not while M.E.C.H. uses Bumblebee's T-Cog for their own sinister purpose."

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"Will SOMEONE keep him occupied so I can get some work done!"

Nightstalker lifted her head towards Ratchet's exasperated yell, and looked down at the couch where Raf and Miko were both playing video games next to her. Nightstalker sat on the platform too because if she stood below she was too short to see. She only had one more day before she could fly--in fact, 15 hours and 9 minutes--but she denied keeping count because Bumblebee couldn't drive.

"Hey, Bee!" Raf called.

*What?*

"How about a video game?"

*Okay*

As Bumblebee walked over, Nightstalker gave the scout a sympathetic smile. She only got a vague shrug in return, and she sighed as they both turned to look at the screen--and she froze. A racing game. Slag.

*Do we HAVE to play this?* he complained sulkily.

Miko cringed. "Ooh . . . Bad call."

"Sorry," Raf said meekly.

"That's okay!" Miko perked up immediately. "That game's lame." And, she tossed the remote aside carelessly, and Nightstalker rolled her optics when it hit her stomach. She put it on the coffee table as Miko snatched up the remote saying, "What do you say we watch some TV?"

In saying so, she turned it on to--Nightstalker felt her tanks flip. Oh Primus, was that--

Everything froze at the sight of the flashy commercial of a sleek car, Bumblebee's alt mode, in fact, in sleek grey and black. "The new Urbana 500," the commercial intoned. "It won't just rock your world--it will transform it."

Dear Primus.

After a tense beat of silence, Bumblebee reared up with a shrill coo, so distraught that he clenched both hands to his helm and walked away from them.

Bee jumped up from the couch as Nightstalker jumped down from the platform to the ground. "Bee, c'mon," Raf said, trying to cheer him up. "You're just as amazing without wheels. I mean, speed isn't EVERYTHING."

Just when Nightstalker thought there was some semblance of Bumblebee believing Raf, it was crushed in the next instant when Arcee and Jack came screaming in, tires squealing as Arcee spun to a stop.

Oblivious and running off a high of adrenaline, Jack yanked off his helmet, bursting out, "Personal best, Arcee! You hit 120 easy!"

Nightstalker looked up at Bumblebee, and she saw his optics dilate so much they nearly blazed fiery blue. Her energon tanks flipped.

He's pissed.

"Uh-oh," was all the two delinquents could say. Nightstalker felt herself putting a palm to her forehead. Could they have possibly been more careless!

This time, Bumblebee's angry whir wasn't even comprehensible as words. He just stomped off, wings laid almost flat against his back and servos clenched.

"Bee--"

Before Nightstalker could say anything more, Ratchet cut in, "Bumblebee! Where do you think you're going?"

*I dunno* Bumblebee grumbled. *A walk*

"You can't just go for a walk!" Ratchet exploded. Bumblebee turned back around with those narrowed, blazing blue optics as Ratchet began another famous rant, saying, "We are robots in disguise! Leaving the base in this form puts you at risk of being seen! And of us being discovered!" When Bumblebee turned sullenly, Ratchet whirled him back around to make sure he was getting the point. "You'll just have to remain here in the silo until--"

Bumblebee threw off Ratchet's arm. *Until what?* he exploded angrily, door wings flaring aggressively. *Until you can fix me?*

Nightstalker moved out of the way when Bumblebee stalked by, his wings as flat as they could go. As he disappeared from the room, Nightstalker head Ratchet give an audible sigh. She turned to him.

"Easy, Ratchet," she said. She jerked a thumb back. "I'll go talk to him. He can take it from a girl that's been confined for over a month now."

Walking deeper into the silo, Nightstalker trotted down the halls looking for Bumblebee. Not finding him anywhere, she went up to his berth room and knocked. "Bee?"

True to her thought, he had burrowed away in there like a bear. *Go away*

"No can do," she said, and she walked in despite how he didn't want her in there. "You bug me all the time when I'm down, so it's time for some payback."

Still, her spark softened at the sight of the scout face-flat on his berth, door wings sagging without energy. *How do you do it?* he said as she sat next to him.

She reached up and kneaded that tender spot between his wings. She shrugged. "I don't know," she told him truthfully. "I just kinda . . . do? I don't know, I just accept that's how it is and try to move on?" She affectionately flicked a wing. "Besides that, I had a great cheering party to keep me strong."

Bumblebee turned his head to the side to look at her. *Really? Well . . . Do you think you could do the same for me?*

Nightstalker chuckled and leaned down and hugged him. "Sure thing, cutie-pie. I won't even fly until you can drive."

Bumblebee rolled his optics before giving a burbling sigh. *You should fly when you're allowed to*

"But I don't want to."

Bumblebee sat up, and when he looked at her with those big blue optics, she felt her spark melt. *You need to* he said simply. *I'll be okay. But you--you should go ahead and fly when you can. We might not ever get my T-Cog back*

"All right," she gave in too easily for her own comfort. "But we WILL get your T-Cog back. All right?"

*All right*

Nightstalker smiled and gave him a hug which he eagerly received. "All right, then."

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Primus, she goes on the most exhilarating flight of freedom in her life and Bumblebee goes and pulls this!?

Conflict raged in Nightstalker since she cut her flight short to join Bumblebee in the infirmary where he had been unconscious for some time after a mishap with Bulkhead, Breakdown, and Knockout. She wanted to berate Bumblebee for doing something so stupid, but . . .

Hadn't she almost gone flying when it would have prolonged her confinement? She owed Cliffjumper for that. But, Bumblebee? Instead of staying with him like her gut had said, she had gone flying and provided release for a selfish want instead of supporting him. She felt like half the strict reprimands Bumblebee received were hers!

He was sitting in that defeated position again, and Nightstalker swindled her way in next to him, giving him a sideways hug. "Hey, Bee? You all right?"

*No*

A soft vent escaped Nightstalker. "Bee . . . It's not your fault."

*Yes it is* he said glumly. If possible, his shoulders drooped more. *It was my fault. I was being stupid*

"It's M.E.C.H's fault, and it always was, and always will be," Nightstalker told him softly. Reaching up behind him, Nightstalker rubbed that soothing spot between his wings. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Hang tough, Bee, it'll all work out. We'll get your T-Cog back. I promise."

He didn't say anything, and Nightstalker sighed, realizing that he still didn't believe it. And then, as quick as she had that thought, Nightstalker realized that they didn't HAVE to get his T-Cog back. If they could . . . they could give him a transplant. It may require a donor, but . . .

"I'll be right back, Bee," she said softly. Quickly running to the opposite end of the silo, Nightstalker approached the talking Ratchet and Optimus, and she skidded to a halt in front of them. Ignoring their bewildered looks, she blurted, "I--Ratchet, I want to be a donor for Bumblebee. I want to give him my T-Cog."

Their optics popped. Both mechs looked at each other a moment before Ratchet burst, "You can't be serious--!"

"Very serious," Nightstalker said again, and she nodded to accentuate her point. "I--I want to do it. For Bee."

"Like you could take that strain!" Ratchet interrupted scornfully, a scowl coming across his features. "You would go mad within months!"

Nightstalker set her jaw. "But I'd do it," she repeated. "For Bumblebee. Besides, it may not be permanent. We might get his Cog back."

"Be that as it may," Optimus cut in gently, "Bumblebee already has a set donor."

Nightstalker blinked. She knew it couldn't be Optimus--they relied on him too much. Instead, she turned, mouth agape. "Ratchet, no," she said softly.

"Yes," he said sharply back. "Bumblebee is my responsibility. And . . . I owe him. So you can just keep your sanity and keep your Cog."

Nightstalker could only nod, but she could only wonder why and what Ratchet owed Bumblebee. How? Had Bumblebee saved his life sometime in the past? Nightstalker could only fathom.

Nightstalker shifted next to Arcee, who was next to Cliffjumper, who was next to Bulkhead. Standing in a straight line, strict military style in Ratchet's medbay, everyone's optics looked to Bumblebee sitting idly on the medical berth. Ratchet paced.

"Obviously since I am the other patient involved," Ratchet said, "I will be unable to perform the surgery. Therefore, one of you must serve as my proxy."

Only Cliffjumper seemed to be the willing one. Nightstalker quivered with nerves if he should choose her, Arcee stood absolutely stiff and petrified, and she was almost sure she could hear Bulkhead's metal tinkling. Cliffjumper, however, had a grin on his face, almost as if he WISHED he could get that knife to cut Ratchet open.

Bulkhead was first. Ratchet took one glance and shook his head. "Hm-mh. Better at breaking things."

Bulkhead let out an extremely audible sigh of relief when Ratchet bypassed him. Cliffjumper grinned at Ratchet with willing optics, and when Ratchet looked at him, a visible shudder passed through the medic. "Not if I was dying."

"What?" Cliffjumper burst, laughing openly now. "Is that an insult to my medical skills?"

"You have none," Nightstalker muttered under her breath.

Once again, Ratchet stopped. Arcee tensed more, if possible. "Arcee."

Nightstalker shifted at Ratchet's decision, kinda thankful that he had passed over her too. Her tanks rolled at the thought of performing actual surgery--after all, she only knew enough to keep people alive, not professional stuff.

"Optimus has steadier hands," Arcee stated mechanically. Cliffjumper muttered under his breath, "And how do you know that?" and the sexual innuendo received a sharp jab to his waist which sent the red muscle car chuckling.

"Steady," Ratchet agreed to which Cliffjumper murmured, "Ooh, Optimus getting busy around here--" A sharp BANG and an affronted, "Ow!" interrupted Ratchet briefly.  "And much too LARGE to be rooting around beneath my hood," Ratchet finished.

"I can do it."

Oh FRAG she just HAD to go and blurt that! Curse Arcee to the pit for being petrified of surgery! Nightstalker's engines gave a slight hiccup of concern when both Arcee and Ratchet looked to her.

"I've had some experience," Nightstalker heard herself say, and she inwardly cursed Arcee yet again for being so pathetic. "I know my way around a chassis. I can do it."

Ooh, Primus she sounded so steady on the outside while on the inside she was trembling like a leaf in the wind! However, Ratchet only sized her up once before saying, "Granted." And then, in a wry tone, "You're off the hook, Arcee."

Things proceeded . . . smoothly as could be expected. Nightstalker had Ratchet in stasis before another Autobot homing beacon was unearthed and the bots all left the silo, save the patients and the newbie surgeon. Bumblebee gave Nightstalker a thumbs up after the others left to bolster her confidence in the coming surgery, and Nightstalker took a deep breath and her hand hovered above the switch to put Bumblebee in stasis.

C'mon, don't lose your nerve now . . . Oh Primus, help me . . . Oh Primus, what am I doing, I am SO not qualified for this . . .

A beep and, "PRIME!" made Nightstalker jump three feet out of her protoform with a squeal. Bumblebee ran to the center of the room as Fowler said, "Breaking news," and left Nightstalker gripping the computer and trying to restart her spark.

*What is it?* Bumblebee asked enthusiastically. *I can help!*

"Huh?" Fowler said to the incomprehensible beeps. "Where's Prime?"

*Well . . . I don't know. They went after another Autobot homing beacon.*

Taking in several deep cycles, stabilizing her fritzing systems, Nightstalker interrupted Ratchet's stasis, figuring she'd need him. Or Fowler would. Or . . . someone--Primus she was just glad to get out of having to do that surgery!

"Look, let him know," and Fowler's voice slowed as if Bumblebee was dumb and couldn't understand him, "I just received access to satellite imagery, which I believe pinpoints the center of operations of M.E.C.H."

Nightstalker's head jerked up, and she heard Bumblebee whisper, *My Cog . . .* and she KNEW he was getting ideas.

*Where is it? Tell me, I'll handle it! Where's the base? They've got my T-Cog!*

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF--GET ME SOMEONE WHO SPEAKS SOMETHING OTHER THAN BLEEP!"

"I can help!" Nightstalker said, coming around to the front. She jumped when she heard Ratchet's slurred and nearly incomprehensible words--which didn't make a lick of sense anyways.

"What? Do I hear a fuzor in need of voice box repair?"

"What's a fuzor!?" Fowler exploded, at complete wits end with it all. "What's going on over there?"

Nightstalker turned, watching with stunned disbelief to see a half-delirious Ratchet raise himself up, saying, "I am able! Just ask Bantor! He was all Mandrill before I put a tiger in his tank!"

Nightstalker blinked at Ratchet, halfway between laughing at him or ignoring him, but it was Bumblebee's, *I've gotta go get my T-Cog* that snapped her back to the present.

"Bee," she said warningly.

"But Bee," Raf said, "you heard what Optimus said about leaving the base."

*I know, but this is my one chance to get my T-Cog back!*

"Send the coordinates, Agent Fowler," Nightstalker heard Jack said with easy commanding skills. "We'll make sure Optimus gets them."

Nightstalker blinked. Well, why not just take command of the whole situation. *Let me go get it!* Bumblebee half-ordered half-pleaded them. *We've got the coordinates! I'll just grab it and run!*

"Oh no you won't!" Nightstalker said, whirling on Bumblebee and narrowing her optics. "I am NOT having a repeat of what happened with Knockout! I will be the one getting your T-Cog, and YOU will be staying here."

Bumblebee tinkled a laugh, and Nightstalker narrowed her optics at the triumphant look in his. *But Nightstalker* he cajoled, *you're barely a greenhorn at fighting. You're going to need some backup*

Nightstalker blinked, and she grumbled, "I hate you," and marched over to the ground bridge controls. "I don't know how you pester me into these things either . . ."

*It's my cute charm*

"That I'm gonna rip from your face."

Bumblebee just laughed, knowing he had bested her, and as they hopped through the ground bridge, Nightstalker took a deep breath to steel her nerves.

Here we go again.

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Nightstalker came back online with a heavy groan.

Primus Starscream's missiles can pack a punch . . . and I didn't even get hit . . .

Then, she realized where she was, and what had been going on.

With a start, Nightstalker jolted back online and leapt to her feet, looking around for Starscream and M.E.C.H. but all she found was Bumblebee on his knees, holding a blasted T-Cog and silent little tears streaming down his cheeks.

Oh . . . Bumblebee . . .

Quickly coming to his side, Nightstalker knelt next to him, touching his forearm. He didn't respond save for a broken, *I'm never going to transform again*

Nightstalker leaned her helm into his. "Yes, you will," she said quietly. "Maybe not with your own, but Ratchet's going to give you his."

A little sob slipped out of him on a depressed whir. *But . . . he shouldn't have to give up transforming just for me. I should have been able to retrieve my own Cog. I really am useless. Ratchet would be better off keeping his own Cog*

"Don't say that," Nightstalker told him. Taking both his cheeks and forcing him to look at her instead of the smoking T-Cog, Nightstalker focused both optics on his. "Listen to me, Bee. You are not useless. You're the one that took down Skyquake. You're the one that got Immobilizer. And the Spark Extractor. You are NOT useless Bee, and you never have been. If anything, I'm the useless one. I was knocked out by Starscream not before five seconds of the battle."

A depressed coo left his artificial vocals, and Bumblebee wrapped his arms around Nightstalker. Holding her tightly, he muttered, *Thanks*

She dropped a kiss on his head. "No problem. I owe you after all the crap you put up with when I was incapacitated."

Hearing a ground bridge open, Nightstalker looked out of the blasted in wall to see the other bots coming out with weapons drawn, on alert for the situation. Nightstalker sighed and tugged Bumblebee to his feet. "C'mon . . . Let's go, Bee."

*Okay . . .*

And despite how much trouble Nightstalker thought they would get into for leaving the base like that, Optimus didn't say anything to them. She thought it was because Bumblebee was so distraught over losing his T-Cog. Still, Bumblebee refused to accept Ratchet's T-Cog. He said his, or he wouldn't have any. That sent Ratchet into a hissy fit unlike Nightstalker had ever seen before, but . . . He repaired the Cog as best he could and performed the surgery.

Surgery Nightstalker was once again happy to avoid doing.

"I . . . did what I could."

Nightstalker sighed at the defeat in Ratchet's voice. He hadn't even given Bumblebee the chance to try it out yet . . .

"Our scout could not have been in better hands, old friend," Optimus said, resting a servo on Ratchet's shoulder.

The comforting gesture brought Ratchet's head up, but he still didn't look convinced. As Bumblebee got his feet, Ratchet turned quickly, saying, "Easy, Bumblebee!"

Instead, completely contradictory to Ratchet's words, Bumblebee proclaimed, *Aw, yeah!* He struck several macho poses, saying, *I feel good!*

"Please," Ratchet stressed, "recovery takes time."

Still, Bumblebee ignored Ratchet's words, took a stance, and tried to transform. His transformation moved a lot further than it had before, but he failed to make the transformation. *Huh?*

Ratchet almost turned his optics away as he muttered, "The damage was . . . severe."

Nightstalker tip toed up and put a hand on Ratchet's tight fist, but he seemed unresponsive to her. Instead, Bumblebee tried to transform again, and when that was a fail, muttered, *C'mon . . .* and tried again.

This time, he folded down into his alt mode perfectly.

The look on Ratchet's face was one Nightstalker would carry in her processor forever, but currently, she was cheering with the rest of them as Bumblebee revved his engine loudly, spinning his wheels so he turned a 180. His door popped open, and he shouted, *Where do you want to go, Raf?* and honked his horn eagerly.

Raf laughed and scrambled into the car. "Anywhere! Just drive!"

In saying so, Bumblebee's tires squealed on the silo floor as he floored his gas pedal and screamed out at top speed. *C'mon, Nights!*

Nightstalker whooped, and ignoring Ratchet's laughter and half-hearted warnings about standard breaking procedure, transformed and shot after him, nearly skidding her bottom and Bumblebee's top as they both squeezed from the entrance of the silo at the same time. She barely heard Cliffjumper's, "Hey, wait up!"

Squealing with Bumblebee, Nightstalker performed several dangerously low banks and flips while Bumblebee tore several doughnuts into the pavement of the road. Bumblebee laughed before facing Jasper and yelling, *We're gonna hit top speed!* and the yellow muscle car shot off with a squeal of tires, racing towards the city.

Nightstalker shrieked and turned her nose straight upward and soared up, as high as she dared until it was getting cold, and then, she turned straight back down, hitting breakneck speeds until she pulled up. With a shrill shout, Nightstalker skidded over the ground of Nevada and left a plume of dust that passed right over Cliffjumper who was racing after Bumblebee.

"Hey, no fair!"

His belted indignation only served to make Nightstalker laugh and fly back up to a safe height before speeding along next to Bumblebee. Raf's high-pitched laughter was barely heard above the roar of his engines and his own hollering.

Nightstalker didn't know how long they played outside, but the rest of that day was filled full of laughter, jokes, screaming, and joy. Ratchet had to finally pull rank on Bumblebee, saying he would strain his new welds, to which the scout did admit he was feeling it. So while Bumblebee cheerfully took Raf home, as did Arcee and Bulkhead take Jack and Miko home, Cliffjumper retired while Nightstalker continued her flight. In truth, she was too wound up to do more than keep flying and burn off her excited energy and happiness over the day and having her flight back. The stretch of her wings was glorious!

Flying over to the Grand Canyon, despite Ratchet's protests which Nightstalker pacified him with, "I'm only a ground bridge away," Nightstalker played among the great peaks and deep valleys. She did radical tricks yet again, flipping and turning and rolling and steep dives until she thought she would make herself overheat. Eventually, she slowed, enjoying the crisp night air.

Nightstalker glided leisurely through the night skies, rolling in relaxed barrel rolls above the Grand Canyon. This freedom . . . a sigh hissed through her vents. THIS was what she loved.

She had already spent much time playing around, practicing her most radical tricks, and burning enough energon so that Ratchet would want to lock her into stasis for the next vorn. Now she let herself relax a little and coast, willing her pounding spark to slow down.

That was when she saw a powerful figure casually leaning against a high cliff face, silver moonlight illuminating his grey metal.

A painful hitch splayed through her systems, and Nightstalker felt her thrusters kick hard as she jerked to a stop. She heard a tingle in her communications on the open line, and uncertainly, she lent her audio receptors to his raspy voice.

"Nightstalker," she heard him say amicably, a genuinely pleased tone overlapping his voice. "Grand show. Your aerial skills have not diminished in the slightest."

He still hadn't moved . . . a plus. Her spark rate skipped a bit faster. Nightstalker's metal crawled a little remembering how ruthless he had been in battle to make sure Optimus would stay as Orion forever.

"Thanks," she said back quietly, shifting uncomfortably.

As if sensing her hesitation, he chuckled. "Do not hold back on my account, Nightstalker. I will not hurt you. Come down--off the battlefield of war, between us, neither Autobot nor Decepticon exists."

His voice was so suave, so seductive, so . . . just like she remembered. Before Nightstalker had realized it, she had coasted down directly to him, transformed, and landed in front of the Decepticon leader.

This was so dangerous . . .

Just like with Optimus, Nightstalker had to crane her head back to look up at him, below his waist height. However, he accommodated himself for her lack of height, kneeling down.

"It has been quite some time, Nightstalker," Megatron said to her, red optics trailing over her. Nightstalker felt a chill shiver through her systems that had nothing to do with fear. Nervously, she turned off her Autobot tracking signal just as she heard Ratchet's worried voice in her audio receptor.

"Nightstalker! You are in extremely close proximity with a Decepticon! Are you all right?"

Nightstalker calmly replied, her orange optics level with Megatron's luminous gaze. "Just fine, Ratchet." She paused. "It's just Screamer. Banged up, begging for help. Megatron probably got him." The quirk of a smile tipped Nightstalker's lips, and she felt empowered when even Megatron's lips twitched at the age-old joke.

"Get out of there," he ordered. "Now. Starscream may act weak, but it's a trap. Why is your homing signal offline? I can't find you anywhere."

"I'm fine, Ratch," she said lightly, shaking her head. "I left him. As for my signal, I don't know. I think I've hit some funky waves, you keep coming in and out. Either that, or Starscream's jamming my signal."

"Nightstalker, get out now," Ratchet repeated urgently. "Land and give me your coordinates. I'll bridge you out of there."

"What?" Nightstalker felt a little guilty that she was lying to him, but she doubted she would ever get another chance to speak with Megatron like this. "Missed that, Ratch. Well, don't worry. I'll fly a while longer and make my way back to base."

Nightstalker cut the conversation short, eliciting a rumbling chuckle from Megatron's chest. "Quite deceptive for an Autobot," he said, gaze leveling at her. "The energon of a Decepticon flows through you still."