I would like to remind all readers that this story is written for enjoyment. Your criticism is welcome. Your hypocrosy and vengence toward my stance or my friends is not. If you would like to leave a review, please keep in mind that the story is written for enjoyment, mine and yours. It is not written and/or posted for The Real Ghost and company to uselessly point out what Microsoft Word lights up on thier computers. Often MS Word is mistaken, and you actually have to know and understand the English language as well as its grammatical structure to override these things. A friend recently passed on--via e-mail--a poem that was intentionally and drammatically incorrect, but edited with MS Word. It reminded me of ScienceTeacherSE's comments about how my story "lit up like a christmas tree" on her computer. You cannot rely on a computer to think for you. It is in everyone's best interest to actually use the God given gray matter between your ears and not try to find a lazy way out of self education. After all, "A mind is a terrible thing to waste."

Save me from myself.

Ratchet sat on the grassy hill glaring daggers at the little cyborg, his help having been violently refused. The medic took this as a personal rejection, and resented it deeply. Wheeljack sprawled in the grass to his right; deeply concerned, watching the scene before them. Natty perched on a small foot stool in the middle of everyone, grinding her teeth and hissing with every painful movement. Bumblebee knelt behind the feisty young woman, trying unsuccessfully to help. Mikeala stood over her, carefully wielding a pair of pliers dug out of the tool box from Captain Lennox's garage, Sam standing at the teenage girl's side. Ironhide, arms folded across his broad chest, stood smugly watching from behind both medic and inventor, while Skyfire paced in agitation around the outskirts of the current activity. Optimus Prime, and Jazz had yet to arrive.

"Get away from me," Natty snarled at the yellow mech. His optics widened with confusion as she batted his hands away from the cactus spines sticking out of her back and shoulder. "This is your fault, anyway!"

"How do you figure that?" Sam scowled at her, offended on his friend's behalf.

Gesturing at the painfully embedded needles, she growled, "This is all because of him! Barricade saw us--" Bumblebee stiffened at the Decepticon's name "--pal'ing around in the parking lot and decided to remind me who I belong to! That's what all this is!"

"Wait," Wheeljack cut in, "I thought you said it was about surrendering to the Autobots."

"Yeah, well... I lied. It was retribution for chumming it up with you two!" She yelped as Mikeala yanked another cactus spine from her side. "Yee-oow!" Shooting the young girl a glare, she rubbed at the reddened spot where several needles had already been extracted from her flesh.

"Move your hand," Mikeala said lowly, brushing the mechanoid appendage away.

"I'm sorry you had to suffer like this," Skyfire finally spoke. The tall jet, winced as he watched Natty grit her bared teeth against another spine plucked. There was more to her spitefulness than simply blaming the Autobots for the treatment she had received. He sent a gentle prod into her thoughts, hoping she would explain.

Sorrowful eyes burned into his optics in response. He left me, she replied. He let me follow him until we got to the highway, and then he left me.

Skyfire stared, arms folded angrily across the opaque cockpit in his chest. Her betrayed feelings surged through the bridging of their minds alongside her words. Didn't I warn you? Now may not have been the best time to chide her, but he desperately wanted to drive home the truth of Barricade's nature.

The cyborg's head dropped with a jerk as one more cactus spine was yanked from her shoulder. She hissed both out loud and into his mind. It was retribution for me leaving him. He could feel the ache of her soul. She had forged a connection of sorts with her Decepticon mentor, and the rift was twisting her into knots. To finish what they had started here, she would not only have to leave the black and white mech completely, but also use and then betray him in ways that would destroy him. The tall jet wondered if she could handle that. Was she even capable of tearing apart the one she had developed such a fondness for.

I don't really have much choice, do I? The thought she sent him cracked through with pain. He will never change. Not for anyone. Not for me. She sighed resignedly. Time to let him go.

Skyfire nodded.

Most of the evening was spent extracting pieces of cactus from the injured cyborg, and Mikeala's hands were sore from clenching the pliers and pulling repeatedly. The hot mug of coffee brought out by Maggie Maddsen (sp?) served to soothe the raw skin and relax the stiff muscles in the young girl's hands, gratefully she wrapped them around the steaming warmth. Sarah sighed sorrowfully as she sipped her coffee. The three women were relaxing quietly in lawn chairs on the grassy hill. Most of the other Autobots had left when the excitement of watching a half human go through the agony of being de-cactused had ended.

Before the women stretched the massive form of Skyfire, laid out on his back, one hand behind his head, staring up with deep thoughtfulness into the darkened night sky. Draped along his chest, and to one side of the embedded cockpit, Natty reposed in a blissful partial oblivion, left arm dangling over her half-brother's side. The ever resourceful Maggie had passed some narcotic painkillers to Ratchet, who, after scrutinizing the substance carefully, gave his approval and tossed them at, rather than to, Natty.

Bumblebee and Sam were engaged in a quiet game not far away. The soft sound of playing cards slapping a shaky table occasionally accompanied by a playful comment was the audible evidence of their continued presence.

"What do you think Barricade'll do to her the next time?" Sarah inquired. Natty turned unfocused eyes on the trio, but said nothing, seeming barely capable of following the conversation at present.

Maggie shrugged. "You don't think he's done enough?"

"I do," Sarah snorted, "but I'm not the Decepticon. Do you think he'll back off now?"

Maggie stared straight ahead, unsure.

Mikeala glared into her coffee. "I doubt it. Bee says Barricade is known for holding grudges."

"He will want to retrain her," Skyfire's voice rumbled, startling the women.

Sarah swallowed hard on her coffee, "What does that involve?" She shivered as the large mech's red optics turned to her, his expression pained. Whatever it was, he didn't want to put it into words. She shook her head, trying to think of a better topic for discussion.

"Prosela... Proseh... Prosss... " Natty stammered. Scrunching her face in concentration, she tried again, "Hookers."

"Excuse me?" Sarah narrowed her eyes at the cyborg, wondering if that was an answer to her question or a drug induced accusation.

Maggie laughed. "What do hookers have to do with Barricade? He hardly seems the type!" She shot a sideways glance at Mikeala who perfectly understood the implied joke, mouthing one word back to her older friend, Jazz.

Natty, scowled. "Trainin-nin... " She drew a deep breath and went on, "... retrain. Chase the hooker."

The three women stared at her, Mikeala and Maggie now sobered after their private joke. "Chase... " Natty repeated. Skyfire reached up with his free hand and gently covered the cyborg's back, whispering softly in Cybertronian. Natty raised her head to gave him a bleary eyed grin, "They wanna know," she slurred, then dropped her cheek back to his chest. "He l-l-likes to watch me kill," she closed her eyes as sleep began to creep up on her, "... likes it. Gets off on hunting... likes to..." a stretchy yawn escaped her, "play... chase the hooker." Skyfire whispered again, and Natty nodded groggily against his metal skin before drifting off completely.

"What was she talking about?" Mikeala dared to ask.

The large black face turned to study the young teenager. "Barricade has a penchant for seducing young waywards. He finds them on your Internet, in chat rooms and the like, and arranges to meet with them. He humiliates them before he kills. Natty believes he will arrange something of the sort with the intention that she should participate."

Maggie blanched, "That's um... gruesome."

Skyfire resumed gazing at the stars, " 'Gruesome' are the details of his dalliances."

Lights were flashing against the walls of the parking garage. Red, Blue, White. Usually this would bring comfort to victims and strike fear into the hearts of criminals, but not this time. Watching the deceptive lights dance across the cement walls and crawl wickedly over the ceiling, Natty felt a sickening dread beat in tune with the fatal rhythm. She shifted her weight against the side of the black and white police cruiser, wondering what his frequent scans of her were leading him to believe.

He had indeed insisted on a retraining session, and now they waited, together, for their prey. The street walker should be along any minute now. She had been told to meet them on the lower floor of this multi-level parking garage on the less populated edge of town. The idea was to chase her to the top where they would "play" with her out under the stars. Barricade explained that it would be more terrifying for the victim, to be so visibly exposed and yet unable to be seen or heard.

The little cyborg flinched as a tingling sensation swept over her body, announcing yet another physical scan. She had turned off all her electronic counter measure devices to allow for his scans, but only to avoid suspicion. And more punishment. "That's annoying," she said flatly.

"Would you rather I download the information manually?" His gruff threat made her shiver. A manual download would involve being physically connected to him, his vindictive mind invading and searching her own, sorting through and examining each and every thought and feeling.

"No." She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of the one and only time she had been through that experience. Brought on by a moment of defiance early in her initial training sessions with him, when she had refused to drop her defenses and allow for scans. He had forced her to the ground pinning her underneath his heavy body while he worked connectors into ports she didn't know he could find. Those hateful eyes had seen into her very soul and weighed every ounce of her existence, finding it lacking. He had whispered into her mind of her failures, then the angry tone changed to seduction as he described her potential and how he intended for her to serve him. It had been almost as enticing as it was terrifying. All too soon he had ripped the connectors out, severing the link and leaving her wanting to feel the addictive caress of his mind again. It had nearly broken her spirit. No, she definitely did not want to go through that again.

"What are you looking for anyway," she threw spitefully back at him.

"Quiet," he hissed over the distant clicking of stilettos on pavement.

Natty felt herself tense, casting a worried glance out through the entranceway in the direction of the sound. Being around the Autobots so much had caused her to lose some of her cold edge. Drawing a slow, deep breath, she rounded the front of the black and white Mustang to stand between the mech and the hooker. "I will not fail you, Lord Barricade," she whispered, more for herself than for him.

"See that you don't."

She needed to get into the mindset. This is prey, plain and simple, the familiar thoughts filled her mind. Little more than an intelligent toy that was designed specifically to die tonight. Any other way of thinking would earn Barricade's wrath, something she couldn't risk now with so much at stake. But more than that, a small part of her still wanted to please him, railed against betraying him. It would be so easy to just give in and return to that place she had held with him only weeks ago. That small part clung to his words from back then, sending them through her thoughts again, "You drive me mad."

"I will not fail you, Lord Barricade," she repeated more resolutely, her eyes following the shadowy figure slinking into the cement structure and toward the hunters. Moth to a flame, she thought. Time to get burnt. A wicked grin spread across her face, the rush of an impending hunt filling her little body with excited energy.

"You're late," Natty's voice echoed across the garage.

The slim figure regarded her for a moment before answering, "Who are you?" The voice was a bit deep and husky for a woman, and the body was a little angular. Something was off here.

"His... assistant," Natty motioned for the hesitant shadow to come closer.

Obliging the request, the hooker stepped through shadows and dim entranceway lighting. "He didn't say anything about company."

Natty shrugged, watching carefully as the street walker swished forward, enunciating each step with swinging hips. There! Her eyes settled on the hooker's slender neck. This woman's adam's apple was rather pronounced. The cyborg shot Barricade a mocking smile. Opening a private channel, she laughed through the comm, "Can't you tell the difference between male and female?"

"Doesn't matter, " he replied sternly, "the result is the same."

She shook her head and faced the slim hooker glaring down at her. The man, dressed as a woman, was fumbling with something under his black micro-skirt, just inside his thigh. Pretending not to notice, Natty, slipped around to his back, pressing against him and leaning her metallic cheek against the upper part of his left arm. She slid her hands around his waist and down his torso, trailing little kisses along his arm as she did so. Reaching between his thighs, she quickly grabbed the small gun hidden there and flung it across the ground in front of Barricade's strobing headlights.

"You won't be needing that," she whispered, "Wouldn't do you any good here, anyway." As she pulled one hand back up his thigh, her fingertips brushed something definitely not feminine. He jumped and she snickered, trailing her fingers along his back as she pranced around to his front. Grinning slyly up at him she tossed her head back at the silent police cruiser, "He's a bit of a... voyeur. Likes to watch what I do to you first." She pulled the man's head down to hers, "Kiss me," she whispered lustily, "He's watching."

He bent stiffly to her at first, but his movements softened as the kiss deepened. Natty could almost taste his apprehension, the anxiety that would soon become out right fear. She drank this in passionately, running one hand across his clenched butt cheeks and pulling his hips against herself. Oh, yeah, he was afraid. She broke the kiss, keeping the man's mouth close to hers. "You need to run... " she breathed, kissing him with more fire this time. Pulling back again, she gazed up at him through slitted eyes, "... for your life." He stared at her, wide-eyed and alarmed. She gently nipped at his lower lip, "Now."

The man gave his head a slight shake, pushing her away, and whirled to run back down the ramp. Instead, he fell against the steaming hood of the Mustang. Natty laughed aloud while the hooker scrambled to pull himself off the vehicle that had silently repositioned itself to cut off any hope of escape. He straightened and twisted around to stare at her completely bewildered. In mocking helpfulness, she gestured up the ramp, and he raced off as best he could in high heels.

Sparing a wicked grin for Barricade, she dashed to the exterior wall, easily keeping pace with the hooker as she bounded over and around the scant few parked cars. When the two humans had reached the top of the first ramp, loud echoes of screaming tires fighting for purchase against the slick concrete chased them around the corner to the next ramp. "Run!" Natty taunted, "He's coming for you!"

"What?!" The man yelled, incredulous. Natty leaped from the hood of a parked car into an aerial somersault, landing directly behind the cross dresser as he ran, her hands brushing down his back. He let out a screech, that was followed by her vicious laughter. Headlights flickered across his running form and he stumbled, breaking the heel off one of his shoes. The panic rising in him, he kicked the shoes from both feet and launched himself barefoot up yet another ramp, the feral roar of a racing engine gaining ground with every step he took.

Natty's shadow streaked across the pavement as she ducked out of the sideways sliding Mustang's path. Heading for the inside wall, she loped alongside the breathless man running up the center of the incline toward the opening and the starry night sky above. He broke out onto the top of the parking garage, panting and frantically looking around for an escape of some type. The siren's "Whoop! Whoop!" and a flash of colored lights announced his mechanoid pursuer at the bottom of the final ramp. Blowing out a hard breath , he pushed himself into motion again, searching each vehicle and shrouded nook for a place to hide. He saw the shadow a split second before he felt the incredible weight of the small figure tackling him. They rolled across the empty parking spaces, coming to a rest with the cyborg atop.

She leered into his face, "Now, wasn't that fun?" Nodding to something behind him, "Look." Lifting off his chest, she allowed him to twist around and gaze upon the transforming Mustang's dark shape, rearranging itself into an impressive robotic form standing up in the moonlight. The man let loose a wordless scream. "What's the matter, lover?" Natty purred, "Does he frighten you?"

"I'm gonna die, aren't I?" The man faced her, terrified.

Eyes glinting in the pale night's natural light, she leaned down and kissed the soft dip between his neck and collar bone. He shuddered. She smiled sweetly, moving up to nip at the tender flesh under his jaw. "You've put on a good show," she breathed against his balmy skin. "He is... pleased."

"What are you gonna do to me? Am I gonna die?"

She pushed him backwards into a reclined position, his back arched, propped up on his elbows. The cyborg held him down by straddling his waist and pressing her knees onto his forearms. He gazed fearfully at her as she gently pushed his head back to hang upside down, facing the menacing Decepticon that slowly stalked toward them, the pavement trembling with each ground eating stride.

Leaning forward over his head, she soothed, "Relax. He's watching." She trailed her fingers along his cheek, down his neck, and over to the top button of his black satin shirt. He jumped with a squeak when he heard the swish of long blades being unsheathed from between her knuckles. She slipped the blades under the bottom of his shirt, pushing them further up along the gently separating material. The shirt fell open and she blew softly at the shredded tatters, encouraging them to slip off his exposed chest. The man shivered as the cool night air caressed his body.

Barricade knelt down over the pair, his face twisted into a wicked grin. Gazing up at the metal behemoth, the man began to tremble whispering, "Oh, God! I'm gonna die."

"Shhh," Natty cooed. "Relax... It'll be over soon... hush, now." She kissed softly at his neck again, and he jerked and pulled against her restraining grasp. His head came up, and she glared at him, roughly pushing his head back down. "Stay there," she demanded. Lifting her face to the looming Decepticon, she purred, "He's ready for you, my Lord Barricade."

The black and white mech's gaping grin deepened as he extended one razor edged claw to lightly rest on the man's rib cage, crimson optics locked onto panicked eyes. With a painstaking slowness, he drew the claw up so that the tip hovered just above the center of the hooker's chest where his heart beat wildly. Natty smiled sweetly up at her mentor, waiting for the Decepticon to begin. Barricade gently pressed the tip of that deadly claw down into the flesh, eliciting a terrified screech from the captive. Blood began to spurt out around the thin digit as it continued it's descent into the chest cavity of the struggling man.

Holding the now gurgling captive in place, Natty watched the gruesome death. As last the movements ceased, the claw having pressed all the way through chest, heart, and bone; it slipped out through the skin of the man's back. The body slumped backwards, collapsing in its own blood, swiftly pooling across the ground. Placing her hands on either side of Barricade's clawed digit, she held the body in place while he yanked himself free, splattering the sticky fluid across her face and chest, and into her hair.

Knowing her appearance was now garish, she grinned playfully up at the mech, and he snorted at her.

"Clean up." He did not bother to hide his satisfied smirk.