The Autobots had fought back, much to Starscream's dismay, and while they only now possessed a small portion of what had used to be Tranquility, it was enough to give them confidence - Starscream knew that for sure. They had the weapons, the artillery, and Primus knows how many fleshlings they'd been able to sneak in and out of the town, trading supplies and information.

Megatron had taken the throne upon arrival, and Starscream had been cast down, once again, stripped from the position of leader. Now he was the subordinate, the slave, the dog, watching his master eagerly. Or so he projected - Starscream was skilled at hiding his thoughts.

His plans of takeover had not quelled. Megatron "ego," as the humans called it, had been damaged. Beaten by some femme, neutral or non-neutral, it didn't matter. The only defeat Megatron would accept was a defeat by Optimus Prime and Optimus Prime only, and even then, he still wouldn't entirely satisfied.

So Starscream stayed low while his master vented, ripping apart a hole in the warehouse wall, smashing through the walkway above and punching crates, his metal fist shredding the material as if it were paper. His anger was violent, yet swift and quick to pass.

Then he began Megatron again, cold and calculating, though certainly not as cold and calculating as Starscream...

"Why compelled you to keep the femme alive?" Megatron asked, his back turned, his shoulders hunched, like a vulture pecking at a corpse.

"Scalpel wanted a human pet. A dead human pet," Starscream explained. "I assure you, master, that the girl was dead when I presented her to Scalpel. Her skin was cold and her organic spark no longer beat..."

"You oversaw Scalpel's work, did you not?"

"I did."

"Show me."

Starscream did. Establishing a link with his master, he transferred every ounce of data he'd collected from Scalpel's experiments, watching with keen optics as Megatron poured over the information. Motionless, he stood, save for the occasional twitch of his finger.

"You just wanted to...'see what happened,' regardless of the consequences," Megatron muttered. "I respect your curiosity, Starscream. Had you been a recruit, I would have applauded you," his voice rose. "But you are my second in command. This is simply insubordination -"

"Sire, we don't know -"

"I know those optics," Megatron snarled. "When I was battling the femme. You're too daft to understand...Primus, how can this be? Dead, and then alive?"

"Come again, master?"

"This hasn't happened in vorns. A single member of a single species with the correct genetic material, compatible with energon..." Megatron shook his head, pacing back and forth before his throne. Then, he stopped, meeting Starscream's optics. "Such a rare prize."

"One that we can both agree should not be allowed to associate with the Autobots any more than she already has," Starscream inched forward. "Master, allow me and a few troops to eliminate -"

"No. No, I want her alive. After all, this...Cybertronian is a femme. One of the few on planet Earth," Megatron growled. "Despite her genetic makeup, I beleive she'd make an excellent breeder. The girl is Cybertronian in body, but organic in mind - once captured, she'll be no more inellegent than a simple drone."

Starscream nodded. Who was he to argue further - he was but a simple servant. Nothing more.

Easier to let Megatron boast and then be the one to crash and burn...Starscream wasn't going to risk the beating. Online or offline, the femme was no concern of his.

Though she was quite pretty. She would make an excellent mate...but to whom? Whichever mech was in power would claim her as a prize.

In that moment, Starscream got a horrible, deceptive idea.

Someone was knocking at the door.

Mikaela, lying on her stomach with a book in hand, the television flickering and humming with soft noise, rolled over and, still dressed in her ratty shirt, pulled on a bathrobe and sauntered over towards the sound.

She grasped the knob and twisted, ready to snap at whomever dared bother her during such an early hour...Bumblebee had, after Mikaela's awakening, dismissed himself kindly so to return to the base. Mikaela had crawled back into the hotel, cozying up in bed so to soak up another hour or so of sleep.

It hadn't worked out quite as planned, and she'd found herself eating and watching and reading and then...a knock at the door. If it was some stranger or a vendor selling crappy, out-of-date newspapers...she'd be livid.

She opened the door.

"You're not a vendor...unless you're selling me cupcakes - Oh my God, did you go and get those for me?"

Rya held up the box of iced, chocolate cupcakes, quirking an eyebrow. Behind her, Bumblebee chirped excitedly before backing out of his parking spot. He gave a honk, and Mikaela waved as he began to speed back towards the base.

"He's such a sweet little bot," Rya said. "He even told me what cupcake shops were good in D.C..."

"How would he know -"

"Sam and his girlfriend. He plays taxi for them too, sometimes."

Mikaela smiled sadly, before chuckling and taking the box from Rya's arms. "You're a babe, you know that?"

"I try."

Rya's face was paler, and her eyes seemed distant, but she immediately perked up when Mikaela grasped her arm, set the cupcakes on the table, closed the door, and pulled her towards the bed and the soft sheets.

Rya fell first, and Mikaela followed. She straddled Rya, gently massaging the girls's shoulders.

"I missed you."

"And I don't miss Ratchet's needle," Rya said. "Mr. Touch-Feely," she laughed, and Mikaela laughed.

Mikaela's fingers traced patterns across Rya's cheek. She said, "You used to be so timid and quiet..."

"Timid? Quiet?" Rya scoffed, and then faltered. "Okay...I can see it."

"You still don't talk too much."

"Talking bores me."

Mikaela ducked down, captured Rya's lips with her own. The girl returned the kiss, gripping Mikaela's hips.

"God, you're beautiful," Rya murmured, does eyes flickering upward to stare at Mikaela's face. "I love your eyes," she paused. "I don't mean to sound all sappy..."

"I think you're beautiful, too."

"Even when you know...I could hurt you," Rya's face twisted into a mask of confusion. "What if something happens, Mikaela, and I freak out or spazz out and transform...what if I get angry and Hulk out or something -"

Mikaela kissed her once more, silencing her. "Now you're talking too much," she murmured. "You're not going to hurt me, and I'm not going to hurt you. With Sam it was different than this...I loved him...I loved him, I thought. But he didn't love me, and I could tell..."

"He died for you."

"He died for the planet, not for me. He died for Optimus and Bumblebee...it was a sacrifice he had to make. I don't know if I could have done it," Mikaela sighed. "But he's just too...big for me. Too big of an entity now. Too full of himself."

"What're you..."

"I care about you, Rya."

"Care..."

Did she really want to say the words? The sacred three words that had brought her last partner destruction, and then redemption?

"I...adore you."

A swing and a miss. Fuck, Mikaela cursed.

Rya smiled, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I adore you, too."

"I see..."

"What do you see, you insolent fool?" Barricade, about half a mile away, could detect a signature, powerful, and another, weaker. Familiar. Both female, from what he concluded, and they were awfully close together...

"I see the femme's," Barricade's partner snarled. Then, his voice changed - became high pitched and squeaky. "And...oh Primus...they're...is that how humans procreate -"

"Get on with the report! I don't have all day; Starscream will have out afts if we aren't back by noon."

"Screw Starscream!"

"Yes, screw the mech who determines whether or not we live or die. Now, what girl are you talking about -"

"The Banes femme. The human. Former mate of Samuel Witwicky, current mate of...our target."

"She's been ordered to die."

"A shame...so pretty...may I keep her as a pet?"

"That is not my decision to make," Barricade snarled. "I'll report to Starscream - this was his move. All he wants is information, not action. That comes later, understand?"

"Understood."

"Good.

So Barricade, engine screaming, sped away from the scene, police lights flashing, not so much as to warn the humans, but to remind them of the justice that would never come.