Author's Note (Eowyn77): For the record, if you don't like this, it's ALL mine. :) It was not initially my intent to 'ship Bumblebee and Arcee. While writing Introductions: Sarah Lennox, I was as shocked as Sarah and Mikaela when the femme blurted out that she and Bumblebee had a romantic history. Then I bought Transformers: Defiance, and their relationship became even more cemented in my mind. So, even if you're used to Arcee being 'shipped with other mechs, please give it a chance, because I think 'Bee and Arcee work REALLY well in the movieverse. :)
TIE IN: This fic draws on the seventh chapter of Intro: Sarah Lennox and the "Squirrel Slaughter" chapter of The Daily Buzz. If you haven't read those stories YET, all you need to know is that Mikaeal helped Bumblebee set up a blog, Spitfire = Sarah Lennox, Sarah and Arcee are good friends, and Bumblebee and his charges are visiting Diego Garcia so Ratchet can work on his voice.
/comm talk/
Even without the pictures from the blog, I would have recognized the 'bot anywhere. Not many mechs can pull off bright yellow, not to mention the racing stripes. Bumblebee truly was a one of a kind. He pulled into the hangar and paused while his humans climbed out of the cab. Funny how quickly we had taken to creatures so alien.
Bumblebee transformed and was swarmed by his fellow mechs. I watched from the doorway of Ratchet's make-shift med bay, arms crossed, and felt a pinpoint in my spark flicker brighter for a second. And sighed. It was the same any time I'd…connected with a mech. Time and familiarity made it less noticeable, but a part of my spark would never forget, even though I'd never formed a bond.
It was true, as Spitfire said, that Cybertronian gender was much less differentiated than human gender was. But there were still differences, and it was more than just curves instead of angles. We femmes thought a little differently and, maybe, felt a little differently, too. Like now. Did Bumblebee's spark react at the sight of me? It was something I'd never asked any of my previous mates, because even though we femmes had never wanted nor needed a feminist movement, Cybertron was still very much a male world. Touchy-feely, to use Spitfire's term, wasn't exactly fashionable.
Would Bumblebee even recognize me with my 'upgrade'? And how bad would the consequences be when he did? The last time we'd really spoken face-to-face was at Tyger Pax before the Decepticons attacked. So many things left unsaid, so much sorrow left unresolved. Would it be best to pretend nothing happened? Would he prefer that? Or would he think something deeper had passed between us and wish for an actual relationship? Or rather, for a relationship more than friendship. Usually I hammered these things out before I shared my spark with a mech, but the eve of battle leaves very little time for defining relationships. I had been impetuous. Weak. Needy, even. And now here I was, facing the consequences of my foolishness.
"Hey, Arcee!" Spitfire called, breaking me out of my reverie. Primus, bless that woman! Grinning widely, I hurried over to finally be introduced to Bumblebee's new, human femme friend.
Mikaela, Spitfire, and I had a great time that afternoon – racing, playing, bickering. Mikaela and I had developed quite an online friendship, and Spitfire and I hung out together daily now. It felt good to be with femmes, and I wanted the two women to be friends, too. It was my selfish idea to bring Iron Will and Spitfire into the blog, but Bumblebee had supported it 100%, as had Optimus. Mikaela was adamantly opposed to the idea, though, even in front of Spitfire. Still, I was patient with her, slowly wearing her down until she questioned my loyalty to Bumblebee.
I very nearly lost my temper with her then. The organic couldn't know what he and I had endured together, couldn't know the strength of the amity we shared. And so I was impetuous again and confided in her and Spitfire what I had not told another being – that Bumblebee and I had once been much more than friends.
I regretted the words almost as soon as I said them. Thankfully, Mikaela had already made it quite clear that she didn't want to know about Cybertronians' love lives, and Spitfire was too shocked to question me further, though I was sure she'd try to pry details out of me later. Why was I talking about it with these aliens when I hadn't even brought it up with Bumblebee? I decided right then and there that I needed to find a way to catch him alone and really talk before he and his humans flew home. I owed him at least that much.
...
Ratchet was working on Bumblebee when we got back, but I hung around the med bay, telling him about how things went with the two human women. I spoke out loud and Bumblebee used his comm to make small talk while Ratchet yet again tinkered with his voice processor. Twice, now, he'd lost the stupid part. TWICE!
Ratchet didn't join our conversation, just grumbled under his breath about how, if we were on Cybertron, he'd be able to build a new one from scratch for Bumblebee, but ore refining and alloys here were much too low-quality for such a complicated bit of machinery. He wasn't ready to give up yet and cobble something together from inferior metals that would have to be replaced every solar cycle. Oh no. He had a few more tricks up his sleeve.
Literally.
He tried at least four different regeneration lasers just while I was standing there. How Bumblebee had endured the mech choking him regularly for the last two hours was beyond me. Then again, he'd been strangled by Megatron and shot in the throat by Starscream, so he was probably used to it by now. I briefly wondered what Ratchet would think of being in the same category as those two.
Ratchet finally stepped away from the repair berth, hands on his hips. "We'll have to give your voice processor some time to see if that did the trick. Other than that blasted part, though, you have a clean certificate of maintenance and are free to go."
"Does that mean he's good to put on a little speed?" I said to Ratchet.
"Fine with me, as long as you don't do something stupid like crash and burn."
The mech was either inadvertently prophetic or too perceptive for any of our good. "Come on, 'Bee. Let's roll."
He didn't need any more encouragement than that, his tires peeling before he'd even completed the switch to his alt-mode. Poor mech, I couldn't blame him. Just watching made me want to get out of there. I was a split second behind him.
We raced away from the hangar and finally down to the beach where we both tried to kick wet sand up on the other. I was just a little bit faster, and Bumblebee was all but caked in gritty mud before we finally felt like slowing down and going on foot.
/I don't suppose there's someplace we can go to get away from prying eyes and ears?/Bumblebee asked.
"Not really. We're pretty much under constant surveillance. I didn't think you'd be after that, but if you wanted to get creative…."
He practically radiated bashfulness. /That's not what I meant. I'm just used to a little more privacy back at the Witwicky's. It creeps me out, knowing the humans are tracking our every move./
I shrugged. "They've been watching us for months. If it's any consolation, they're probably bored to tears right now."
He nodded and paused, looking out over the ocean. I stood beside him, wondering what he was seeing and thinking. Once, the silence would have been comfortable, but not anymore. Yet another reason we needed to discuss this.
"'Bee?"
His optics were still focused on something in the distance. /Yes?/
"About Tyger Pax…."
He vented air, sighing. /Yes. About Tyger Pax. We could stand here on the seashore and talk for weeks about nothing but Tyger Pax. Ratchet would probably say it'd do me some good./
I snorted. "Ratchet's a prying old know-it-all."
Bumblebee half-smiled but otherwise didn't act like he'd heard me. /The All Spark lost. Hopes that were broken. Sparks that were extinguished./
Hesitantly, I said, /Sparks that were shared./
He finally looked at me, the light in his optics gentle. /Yes. Sparks that were shared./ For being such a scrapping good warrior, Bumblebee could be so very gentle.
/I shouldn't have…/
He interrupted me. /You're not going to apologize, are you?/
/That was where I was headed. /
Bumblebee abruptly chuckled, but all that came from his throat was a whirring wheeze. Of all the reasons I had to hate Decepticons, for some odd reason, I hated most that they took away Bumblebee's laugh.
/And here I was feeling all guilty for taking advantage of a subordinate on the battlefield, and a distressed femme at that./
I couldn't help smirking at him for that one. /Don't tell me you've turned into a male chauvinist pig since coming to Earth./
He blinked as he researched the term and then barked out another broken, spark-wrenching laugh. /Humans can be so barbaric sometimes./Sobering a little, he looked at me with the light of humor dancing in his optics. /Squirrelly, yes; chauvinist pig, no./
/You sure you don't…think less of me? That I would come to you like that and then leave with little more than 'good bye'? You didn't feel like I used you?/
Again his optics gentled. /You were being discreet, slipping away before we could be discovered. Besides, how long have we been friends? How long have we fought together?/
I looked down. /Since the first shot fired in this war./
/I'd never seen the light in your optics so dim./
/Yours was no better./
/It was probably worse,/he agreed, tipping my face up. /So much loss and death and grief. And then knowing what would come in the morning, knowing I couldn't tell anyone why we had to die. I was the one leading us all to the Pit, even if it was the Decepticons who pushed us in. And then you came and…you knew. You knew we were on a suicide mission and that I was holding back information you deserved to know. You knew, and you still bared your spark to me./
He surprised me by tenderly placing his hands on either side of my face. /I don't know if you can ever appreciate how much you...strengthened me. In sharing your spark, you breathed life into mine. So don't you dare apologize, femme, or I will go all chauvinistic on you. It's the one and only memory from Tyger Pax that I never want to forget./
His hands fell away from me, and he looked out over the ocean again, probably embarrassed by all the touchy-feely. I felt as though a damper had been removed from my spark. Bumblebee didn't regret accepting my offer. I hadn't lost his respect. Or his friendship. He actually cherished the memory. If Primus still cared about what happened to us, surely He was smiling on me now.
And then I vented a sighed. One hurdle down, one more looming in our way. I turned and started strolling along the shoreline, and Bumblebee fell in step with me. /So what now?/
He gave me a curious glance. /What do you want?/
I hesitated, honestly unsure. I knew what my spark wanted, but even though Megatron was dead, Decepticon scouts were scouring the planet for something. We were at a pivotal point in the War, I could feel it, and distractions like a relationship could be deadly. He had Sam to protect, too. /What do you want?/
He fought the smile and lost. /I asked first./
/Frag you. /
/Well, that wasn't exactly the direction I was expecting you to take this…./
I smacked his shoulder, but it didn't do anything to his grin. /Shut up./
/How about this,/he offered. /We have a job to do – let's do it. We have two worlds to protect now, and the Decepticons are up to something. What happens happens. It's not like we need to make a snap decision one way or the other./
/Another one,/I lamented.
This time he smacked my shoulder. /Aren't you the one who promised me no regrets?/
I half-grinned. /And no court-martial, either./
He rolled his optics./Don't remind me. Seriously, if word got out about what happened, Prowl would have my head./
I snorted. /Maybe, back when the War first started, but here? Now? Regulations have gotten a bit lax, if you haven't noticed./
/Of course you can say that. Prowl's not here yet, and you have no reason to feel badly. I'm the one who abused my position of power./
/Position of power?/ I griped./Now who sounds like Megatron?/
He wheeled on me, suddenly in my face and butting up against me, breastplate to breastplate. /You know what you need, Arcee?/
Scrap my spark for reacting again. /What?/
Catching me completely by surprise, he picked me up and threw me into the ocean, laughing again. /To cool down./
I came up out of the water shrieking, but he had already switched to his alt-form and was tearing across the blacktop toward the hangar and safety. Not bothering to transform, I raced after him, letting him have a few glancing stun-strength bolts from my crossbow. Punk. But I was laughing. Laughing like I hadn't in ages.
In front of the hangar, he rolled out of his alt-form, one hand on the ground in a nice 180 so that he swung around facing me. /Better?/
How was it he could always cheer me up? /Better./
/Good./
I reached up to brush some of the sand from his shoulder. /Though Ratchet's going to blow a gasket when he sees you./
Bumblebee shrugged, untroubled. /Nothing a good wash won't fix./
Side by side, we walked into the building.
/Hey, 'Bee?/
/Yeah?/
/Did…did your spark do anything funny when you...saw me?/
He gave me a sidelong look, that gentle light in his optics. /Yes. Every time./
Author's Endnote: Nothing publically posted in the Botosphere will be rated over 'T' but I did write two additional PM chapters for this fic. They don't reveal anything new in terms of plot, but PM me if you want and I'll share it over ffnet's docx.