Epilogue: The Swing of Things

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Real life smacked me around a bit. I tried to smack back, but it hits harder.

Also, Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it, Happy Hanukkah to those of you who celebrate it, Happy Holidays to those of you who celebrate everything else because I just cannot think this late at night (it's midnight as I write this), and Happy New Year to everyone in advance. Stay safe, wear your seatbelts, and have designated drivers if you're planning on drinking.

And most importantly, forget the small stuff during the holidays. Don't fight or argue, don't worry who gets what present, and just enjoy yourselves! That's the most important thing.

It had been three days state side before the entourage made its way back to Diego Garcia. While reports could, and would, be filled out and sent electronically, while he was in LA, Will attended two meetings. One was with his immediate commanders, and the other meeting was with Optimus and said commanders. The latter regarded the situations in both Beverly Hills and Pittsburgh. While no lives had been lost, there had been considerable damage to the property in Beverly Hills, and slight damage to the property in Pittsburgh.

Even though the footage from the surveillance cameras in Beverly Hills had been recoverable, military investigators eventually determined that all cameras in the area and on the grounds of the school had been on a loop when they saw that the same cat crossed the road every twenty seconds. It was something that Sideswipe had smugly not not taken credit for when Optimus questioned him later on.

Officially, a small meteor crashed onto the grounds of the school. Local contractors would be used to repair the damage, paid for in full, and work was already underway. As for the damage done to the parking lot in Pittsburgh, officially stated as vandalism by unknown sources, work wouldn't be able to start there until late spring. Even though the historic Pump House was closed in the winter, the damaged areas were cordoned off for safety purposes due to the walking trails near the site. Repair work to that location had also been scheduled, with a contract that was already negotiated and paid for.

They were on the final approach to Diego Garcia when Bumblebee woke Sam up. The driver's seat the young man was sleeping on, once again in a lowered position no mere Camaro could attain, vibrated faintly around him.

Sam yawned, stretching as he sat up. "What time is it?"

"Just going on to eleven am," the scout replied. "Sunny, humid, and blazing hot, as per the norm."

"Awesome," Sam sat up, and the seat back rose up behind him. "Hey, what about that woman that helped Sunstreaker?"

"What about her?"

"What happens with her?" He held up a hand. "Hold on to that thought."

Bee did so as Sam opened the door and bolted for the bathroom. The yellow scout felt a little smug about not needing such facilities, then he snickered to himself at the thought of his fellow Autobots running for the bathroom like Sam did.

A moment later, Sam emerged from the bathroom, shaking excess water off of his hands. There was no barbecue sauce this time as Sam opened the driver's side door, something Bumblebee was grateful for, and when the young man sat back inside, the conversation resumed.

"No paper towels," Sam said, wiping his hands on his jeans. "But seriously, what happens with her? Didn't Sunstreaker say that Skywarp saw her with him?"

"He wasn't sure if Skywarp saw Beth or not. He tends to keep a dark tint on his alt's windows regardless of what world he's on," Bumblebee said, recalling the briefing that Optimus had them all attend via comm link. "Apparently, it happened so fast that he wasn't sure."

"I didn't go with them when they brought her back to her house. What happened?"

Bumblebee vented gently in humor. "Chatty after you get up from a nap, aren't you?"

Sam smirked at the scout's steering wheel. "Will might still have some barbecued chicken left over. Want some?"

"I'm not nearly as vain as Sunstreaker, to be worried by such a threat," Though it would be incredibly uncomfortable and slightly embarrassing to undergo that again. "Since she fell asleep in him, Jazz went with Will and Ironhide, and Ratchet trailed them. Will carried her in while Jazz used his holoform to plant tracers on her vehicle and bugged her house."

"Okay, the tracers I can slightly understand. Why did he bug her house?" Sam shook his head. "That doesn't make sense."

"It's not bugging in the same way that human espionage employs," Bee realized his mistake. "These are sensors that scan for, record, and send information about any spark signatures in the immediate area. Even though the probability of anything happening to her is incredibly low, if anything does happen, we'll be notified of it."

Sam leaned back in the seat. "I"m kind of surprised she's not coming back with us."

"Uprooting her from her entire life because Skywarp might or might not have seen her seemed a bit extreme." Bee said softly. "It's not as if she killed Megatron."

"Ass," Sam smacked the steering wheel lightly. "The thing is that she already knows that you guys exist. I thought that was the status quo."

"Sam, your whole world knows that we exist," Bee said patiently. "Back when we were in hiding, yes, knowing us personally substantially increased the likelihood of a Decepticon trying to trap or kill one of our human friends. Not so much now."

"But Skywarp might think that she's friends with Sunstreaker."

"Even if he did see her with him, and it's possible he might have had a thermal scanner at the time, the chances of him kidnapping Beth are remote at best."

"I guess," Sam muttered. "And it's not like Sector Seven is a threat anymore."

"Yes. Beth being seen with Sunstreaker might have been a problem if a group like Sector Seven still existed, but since they're working with us, it's not really an issue."

"It's not Sector Seven anymore." Being liaison, Sam had to interact with Simmons more than he liked, but at least he wasn't in daily operations with the man like Leo was. Then again, Spitz was far more capable of dealing with someone almost as annoying as he was.

"Yep, just Simmons and his band of merry men," Bee chuckled.

"Oh, if he heard you just now..."

"I'm incredibly not worried," Bumblebee scoffed, just a bit.

"Okay, so if there are tracers on her car, can you tell me where it's at now?"

"One moment please!" Bee chirped it out in a voice so peppy that Sam almost wished his buddy still had to resort to voice clips. Though that could be worse. "Jazz says that her car is headed south towards West Virginia."

"That's weird," Sam frowned. "I mean, I know that Camaros are pretty awesome, you know, from personal experience..."

"That we are!"

"...but with all the snow we just left, is it wise to be roaming the crazy highways of West Virginia in a rear wheel drive vehicle?"

"Well, Sam, according to state highway reports, and considering it's been a few days since we've seen her, the highways are clear," Bumblebee paused. "Yeah, and Jazz added that Pennsylvania roads are worse than West Virginia roads."

There was a flash of headlights from Jazz's direction.

"Okay, thanks for butting in, Jazz," Sam waved back at the Solstice. "Everyone's gotta chime in."

"I'll admit, it's great to hear his comm link active again," Bumblebee said softly.

The plane began to bank slightly to the left at that and the conversation dropped off.

Sam shut his eyes as Bee raised the driver's seat upright. He felt the seatbelt reform around him into a five-point harness, much like racecar drivers used. It was what Bee did every time Sam flew with him. "Wake me when we really get there."

It was a week later when Sam checked in on Beth's car. Call it a hunch, gut instinct, whatever. It was simply on his mind to look. Much to his surprise, Jazz had created a program for Sam to use in order to track the grey Camaro.

Others might call it creepy. Sam called it his job. And besides, he wasn't interested in Beth, just her welfare. After logging in, Sam frowned at the screen and slouched in his seat. The car was currently in northern Texas. He frowned even more. According to the travel log Jazz had the program set up to record, Beth and her car had been in Louisiana, Kentucky, and Indiana. In just one week.

Sitting back in the chair, Sam used his iphone to call Bumblebee. The scout picked up almost instantly.

:What's up, Sam?:

"Uh, is there any way to find out what Beth does for a living?" Sam scratched at his earlobe. "You remember, Sunstreaker's little helper."

:I remember, Sam, but why do you want to know?:

"Just call it a hunch," the young man flicked at earwax that had gotten caught under his nail. "ASAP would be great, unless you're still busy sunbathing away the winter woes."

:Actually, I'm training with Ironhide, but I've sent a memo to Jazz asking if he can look. Anything else?:

An extra large, extra greasy pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, was what Sam was thinking about. Instead, he put on his liaison cap and said, "Can you ask Jazz to search the owner's registration for the grey Camaro?"

:Uh, yeah...aw, fraggit!:

Sam sat up, "You okay?"

:My pride is suffering far more than anything.:

"Um, okay, well..." The phone chirped then and Sam looked down at the screen and then held the phone back to his ear. "Sorry, Bee, that's an email from Jazz. Focus on training and I'll catch ya later."

A :son of a glitch!: was Bee's answer, though Sam didn't think it was directed at him, as the call was ended.

"Training with Ironhide," Sam shook his head ruefully. "Makes me ever so glad I'm human." With that, he looked at the email Jazz sent him and frowned yet again, read more, and groaned.

Looked like he'd be the one to call this meeting.

Unless Jazz beat him to the punch.

Jazz had beat him to the punch. Optimus had called the meeting later that day, around four pm.

Luckily, because Sam's stomach was already growling for dinner, it wasn't a lengthy meeting. Present were himself, Jazz, Bumblebee, and Optimus. They met in the main hangar, which doubled as a meeting location and communications hub. It was also the official "Meet N' Greet" location for when government and political bigwigs came to visit.

The majority of the meeting had been to figure out if the human that had helped Sunstreaker was still safe. After deducing that the camaro had been a rental car, Jazz had searched throughout the internet and brought up records from the rental company. The car had been in her possession for two weeks and was returned five days after they had left Beth.

Further searching, in ways Sam knew were far from legal, brought up where Beth worked, how long she'd been there, and even what office she worked in and on which floor. It wasn't hard to find her facebook page, which was heavily used, and a twitter feed, which was rarely used.

"If ya want, I can hack her cellphone," Jazz said in a far too innocent tone of voice.

"You really shouldn't," Sam said, almost certain that Optimus would agree.

"I am in agreement with Samuel," the Prime intoned most wisely. "Some things should remain private."

"She's talkin' about Sunny..."

Without warning, a slightly familiar voice was heard floating through the air, followed by a second voice, though this one was unfamiliar.

"...if you're still mooning over that guy, Bethie, there's only something wrong in it if you can't get in touch with him."

"I'm not mooning over him, Ari! I just can't..."

"Can't get him off your mind is the same as mooning over him."

"Geeze, can you at least use terminology from this decade?"

"If not him, then at least that sexy Lambo of his! I saw the picture you took of it. Rrrawrrr!"

"Okay, enough, Jazz!" Sam groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Yeah," Bee agreed. "The last thing we need is for Sunstreaker to hear two femmes talking about him."

"The other one was practically drooling," Sam snickered. "Definitely don't need him to hear that. His ego's big enough as it is."

The sound of the conversation between Ari and Beth was cut off as Jazz stepped closer to the Prime. "That conversation wasn't recorded, Optimus, it was live. So she's safe. If ya want, I can go and bug the right car."

Optimus vented softly. "Not needed, Jazz. The peripheral spark detectors should be enough, and we know that you can get in touch with her if need be." He eyed his SIC. "Even though I'd prefer that you do not hack into live calls without her permission, her safety is more important."

"Permission to keep an eye on her other personal information?"

Sam sat forward at this. "Wait, what?"

"There's boring stuff like everyday phone calls and texts," Jazz explained. "Then there's the interesting stuff like banking information, emails, and even the apps on her phone and also her itunes account."

Sam arched an eyebrow. "What do her apps and itunes account have anything to do with her safety?"

The bot snickered. "She's got good taste!"

The young man frowned. "You are seriously scary good."

Jazz just grinned.

Sam made a mental note to try to keep his cellphone as secure as possible. Though the look on Jazz's face promised that would be a difficult task indeed.

"Jazz, permission granted," Optimus said. "Keep an eye on Beth covertly."

"Noted, bossbot," Jazz saluted, and stretched. "Meetin' over?"

Prime nodded. "Keep an eye on her and report to me immediately if anything changes."

Sam sighed and readjusted his wide brimmed hat. He gazed out over the ocean through his sunglasses and sighed again. "This is the life." He was currently laying out on a lounge chair that was on a floating dock that was wide enough to fit two chairs and a cooler. It was tethered to a cord that was attached Bumblebee's front bumper. It was a subspace thing that his buddy didn't deem Sam worthy of knowing the ins and outs of.

"Be that as it may, there are still things you need to do other than lazing around in the sun."

"You're a killjoy, my friend," Sam said with a groan. "I haven't been out here long enough for you to Ratchet on my fun."

"You've been sunning for the last forty minutes," Bee's voice chided him through the earpiece Sam wore. "Not to mention that you can lay out in the sun like a pubescent teenaged girl anytime you want."

"Pubescent teenaged girl? Really?"

"You're right," Bumblebee said in a serious voice. "My apologies to pubescent teenaged girls everywhere."

"So, what's up now?" Sam picked at his upper arm. He was peeling. Again. Ratchet was gonna be absolutely thrilled. "Jazz still perving on Beth?"

"He's special ops, Sam, so it's not recreational spying that he's doing." The autobot snickered. "Though he says thanks for the compliment."

"You don't have to tell him everything I say," Sam said through somewhat gritted teeth, as he looked back to shore where Bumblebee was waiting for him. The yellow camaro looked completely innocent as he did some lounging of his own in alt mode. Unlike Sam's sunbathing, all of the Cybertronians could absorb the energy of the sun's rays to store for power use. It wasn't as powerful, or as filling, as energon, but the 'bots were never one to waste an opportunity for energy.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"Okay, I guess you'd better tow me back in," Sam sat back in the lounge chair and gripped on to his empty glass. "And not at warp speed like last time."

Even though Bee chuckled through the comm link, the tow back to shore was at a modest pace. Once Sam and his dock had reached shore, Bumblebee transformed out of his alt in order to pick up to dock and place it beside a nearby hangar. The hangar doubled as a storage unit for beach/ocean recreational activities. Jazz and Epps, who'd grown to be fast friends in the last couple of months since the mech's return, had already held a few kick ass beach parties.

After wiping off most of the sand, Sam shoved his feet into his sneakers and made his way over to Bumblebee. Once again in his alt mode, Bee opened the driver's door for his friend. The drive back to the main area of the base was quiet.

"It's been nice, huh? Without too many Con attacks." Sam took the earpiece from his ear and placed it in Bee's center console. It was an invention of Wheeljack's that amazed Sam. "That's good, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm," Bee replied. "It's nice to be able to relax."

"Yeah," Sam thought back on the latest 'Con incident reports he'd had cross his desk. There hadn't been many. A couple of hijacked tanker trucks transporting gasoline, a few raids on remote gas stations, and one robbery of an auto parts store, with a couple of cases of coolant and lubricants stolen. "But is it good that they're so quiet?"

They passed by a three Hummer convoy that was headed to the shooting range. Finally, Bee sighed. "It is good, Sam, but it's a bit troubling as well."

Sam blinked. "How so?"

"Means they're in hiding. They're either laying low to heal from injuries, or they're plotting," Bee slowed his pace as they neared the thick of the base. More people were out and about, walking around, doing their thing. "In some ways, to me, it's a bit disturbing. Means number are getting low. That's kind of sad."

"I guess," Sam sat back in the seat. "I don't know if I'd be sad that my enemies are out gunned."

"At spark, we're all Cybertronians. It wasn't always war, though when I was brought online, war was already a thing." He paused before continuing. "I wouldn't mind it if we were just Cybertronians again. No more autobot or decepticon."

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay, I see your point and I get it. You've almost got me feeling bad for them."

Bumblebee chuckled and came to a stop. "Out you go, Sam. Your lunch break is over."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. You're a real pal," Sam groaned, then sighed. "Jazz is keeping a close eye on her, right?"

"He has a subroutine that actively scans for any signs of distress from Beth," Bee said. "Weird activity on her bank account, frantic calls or texts, that sort of thing. He knows what to look for Sam, I promise."

"Good," the young man sighed. "Last thing I need as my first year of being the Autobot ambassador is an international incident."

"Well, if a decepticon is involved, it'd be an intergalactic incident."

Sam snorted, shook his head, and left Bee behind for the ice cool air conditioning in his office.

He just had to trust Jazz and, judging by the sneakiness of the mech, he decided that Beth was in good, though virtual, hands.

Meanwhile, back in Pittsburgh...

Beth sighed as she shoved the Elantra into park. The aged car had just made it back to the driveway from a hectic night of grocery shopping, where it promptly chugged into silence with a choked stall of the engine. It was then that the vents, which had refused to work the entire drive back, kicked on, fanning warm air into the cold cabin of the car.

Beth narrowed her eyes at the vent. "I can't stand you."

The Elantra said nothing in its defense.

The woman reached over and grabbed her purse and single bag of groceries from the front seat, yanked the keys from the ignition, and stepped out into the cool evening air. It was the last week of March and, while it was still cold, there were hints of spring. She eyed her front flower bed as she walked onto her front stoop. Purple crocuses were poking their heads through some of the snow that hadn't melted yet. Beth loved the deep purple shades against the white of the snow.

Jamming the key into the lock, Beth turned it, then paused before opening the door. She looked back at the Elantra sitting there, engine ticking in the night air. A minivan drove down the street. Its tires hissed against the wet road. Finally, it was quiet again, and she looked up at the night sky.

She'd begun to feel a growing sense of...something. It was a feeling she couldn't quite put a finger on. A mix of apprehension, dread, and uncertainty. Though she wasn't a superstitious sort, Beth wondered if it was due to the full moon. She'd seen it last night, a rare super moon that even made it on the news the night before.

With one last look up at the sky, Beth went inside quickly, locking the door behind her. An annoyed meow greeted her at the door. Popping on the hallway light, Beth grinned at the irritated feline sitting in the hallway, tail lashing from side to side.

"Poor baby," Beth teased her cat as she hung up her coat. "You're gonna be so mad at me tonight and tomorrow."

The cat chirped at her, then got up to wind his body through her legs. He meowed again.

Beth looked at her watch. Six-thirty, still plenty of time to get the princess something to eat. Due to getting anesthesia the next day for a dental cleaning, her cat would have to fast as of midnight tonight.

As she walked into the kitchen, Beth shoved off her apprehension as being worried about her cat. She was going to have her mom pick up Princess Kitty Meow Meow, because Beth had the absolute luck to need to put in some overtime at work. She made a mental note to pack toys and food for her cat.

Scooping some food into his special dish, Beth crouched to place it in front of her slender black and white cat. "Just don't be too upset when I'm not there to pick you up from the vet, okay?" She ran her hand along his back, then stood up to make her own dinner.

She plopped some leftover hamburger helper onto a dish, and then put it into the microwave to heat up. As it warmed, Beth stared out of the kitchen window, which had a great view of the Pittsburgh skyline. The lights of the city at night glimmered like diamonds. Far up in the sky, she saw the lights of a plane blink as it winged its way across the night sky.

As snow fell from the sky, she sighed and wished she could go to some place tropical, even for a weekend, if only to see sand instead of snow. More snow was forecast for the entire week, and it was only Monday.

Beth sighed. "I really hate snow."

Then the microwave beeped and she turned her back to the window.

The plane, which had continued to make its way across the night sky, disappeared into a bank of clouds.

tbc...?

So that's it for i hate snow! and I sincerely hope you enjoyed the ride. Is there more planned? Yes. Is it written? Not yet.

Fun fact: Pittsburgh is pretty at night, but nothing beats the view from a tropical beach. That's why beach scenes are more popular as desktop wallpapers than cities at night.

A/N: Yeah, if you noticed, I changed Beth's car from a Ford Contour to a 2001 Hyundai Elantra. I need the Contour for another story I've got in the works. My parents had an Elantra once. Good car. It was with us its entire life, and we had to trade it in May of 2014 for something that wasn't falling apart. 114,000 miles. It really fell apart at the end, but it was good to us. We also had a Contour. The Contour...eh...what can I say about Ford? Fix or repair daily :D