Well, this is it.
The last chapter.

For all your reviews, alerts and favorites, I THANK YOU.
I've not had much luck in publishing my original fiction,
so knowing that my writing is enjoyed by people gives
me the courage to keep trying.

As I mentioned a few chapters ago, there WILL be a sequel.
When it will be start posting, I don't know. I really need ROTF
for reference and that was the one thing I did not get for Christmas.
Please be patient with me. ^.^

'Til all are one.

---

"Optimus, why did you suggest we take care of the barbeque? I don't even know where we're going to get enough supplies."

"Ironhide, thank you for volunteering to get food from the grocery store."

"Why me?"

"You're the only one who has a credit card."

"Remind me to thank Lennox later."

"What d'ya want me ta do, Optimus?"

"I want you and the others to recharge, Jazz. I'll find some grills and anything else we will need."

"The Witwickys have one in their garage, they won't mind if we borrow that. I think they're out of charcoal, though."

"How many grills are we goin' ta need?"

"The Witwickys always borrow another when they have company."

"We could borrow Katrina's cousin's grill. Without askin'."

"However tempting that idea is...no. I'll rent one if need be."

"I'm not sure you can rent grills, Optimus."

"And I am not recharging yet, most of you need repairs."

"Ratchet, that's an order. None of us have life-threatening damage."

"Unless you want a wrench dent in your thick helm, you better get started on your shopping and leave me to my work."

---

Chapter Thirty Nine

The barbeque was going well. Humans and Autobots alike were spread across the flat area where they'd fought less than a day ago. Ironhide and Sideswipe chatted with several of the military men and Sam. Mikaela and Arcee sat together, heads bent over some sort of diagram. Meat sizzled on grills, watched carefully by the three cooks - Mudflap, Skids and Epps. The lieutenant was giving the twins their first lesson in the art of flipping burgers while Lennox watched and laughed from his perch on a nearby rock.

Turning away with a smile, Optimus noticed Jazz standing alone, unusual behavior for his First Lieutenant, especially after a victorious battle. Jazz should be in the thick of the celebrations, not staring down the road, looking like a sparkling who had lost his favorite toy.

Venting air, the Autobot leader walked over. "What is wrong, Jazz?"

Jazz gave a small shrug, optics not meeting his leader's. "Nothin', Optimus. I better make sure Ironhide doesn't off-line Mudflap and Skids, they're tellin' Lennox and Epps 'bout the time they painted Ironhide's armor and cannons pink with the character for femme in purple on his chest and he didn't notice for three days 'cause battle damage rendered him colorblind..."

Optimus chuckled inwardly, remembering that incident, then placed a hand on Jazz's shoulder. "Wait."

The silver mech halted. "What?"

"You wanted to go with Katrina," stated the Autobot leader, his suspicion confirmed by Jazz's silence. "Then go."

Jazz shook his head. "I can't. It's my duty as-"

"It's your duty to follow orders," Optimus said quietly. "But I don't want to order you to go. I'm giving you the choice."

"The Autobots need every mech they can get, there's still tons o' 'Cons ta hunt down."

Prowl, who'd been listening quietly on the sidelines, stepped in at a nod from Optimus. "Your assistance has always been greatly appreciated, Jazz, but the Autobots have and will function well enough without you. The probability of failure due to your absence is-"

Jazz cut him off with a sharp wave of a hand. "Ya aren't helpin', Prowler."

"Just because Bumblebee lives with the Witwickys does not mean he's cut off from us," Optimus said. "You may be further away, but that won't change anything. If we need help, we will send for you. Go."

"...I should at least say good-bye." Jazz headed for the party, a spring in his step. He paused and glanced back. "Thank ya for everythin', Optimus."

"Stay in contact."

"I will."

"Katrina wants nothing more to do with us," murmured Prowl. "Are you sure she'll accept him?"

"As you would say, the probability is high enough that the odds are firmly in his favor."

"Irritating as he can be, I shall miss him."

"We all will, but keeping him here would be wrong. Who knows? He may in time change Katrina's mind about distancing herself. Like it or not, her destiny has been entangled with our own."

***

"You're leaving?" Bumblebee gasped, wings drooping.

"Hey, cheer up, 'Bee. It's not like I'm gonna die the second I'm outta yer sight."

"Best friends are supposed to stick together!" The yellow mech protested, a hurt look on his face.

"'Bee, stop actin' like a younglin'," Jazz groaned. "It's not like I can stay with the Witwickys."

"Why not?" Sam joined conversation from his perch on a nearby rock. "You didn't have a problem with it before."

"I wasn't in the condition ta complain then, and Katrina's not livin' with ya."

The teen winced. "Ouch, sore subject, Jazz."

"Sorry."

"S'okay," Sam mumbled into his glass of Pepsi.

"When are you leaving?" asked Bumblebee.

"Soon as I say good-bye. Have ta catch up with Barricade, and ya know how well he follows speed limits."

The got a laugh from the yellow mech. Sam ended up spluttering soda everywhere.

"Excuse me," he said, wiping his face with his shirt sleeve. "Speaking of Barricade, what's to stop him from shooting you as soon as you're in range?"

"He swore ta leave Autobots alone."

"And that's stopped him before?"

"He doesn't like you at all," Bumblebee added.

Jazz shrugged. "That's his problem."

"See you around, Jazz," Sam said, standing up. "Tell Katrina hi for me, and tell her..." He paused. "Tell her I think I understand." The teen laughed. "Actually, scratch the second part, sounds too corny." He wandered off in the direction of the food.

"Tell her anyway," Bumblebee said, the sad droop of his wings belying his cheerful voice.

"First thing," Jazz promised, holding out his hand. "Friends?"

"Friends," Bumblebee said, and they high-fived. "You need me, let me know."

"The same goes for ya," replied Jazz with a grin.

The others took the news a little better than Bumblebee had.

"Don't forget your training," Ironhide muttered as he scrutinized his cannons for a speck of dirt. "You better have improved your shot when I see you again."

"You need repairs, comm me," Ratchet said. "That goes for Barricade, too, and if Katrina gets sick-"

"Contact you first," Jazz finished, nodding. "I will."

"Does that mean your position is open?" Sideswipe asked, then laughed and clapped the smaller mech on the back. "See you around, Jazz."

"Aw, Jazz, don't go!" Mudflap begged.

Skids added his own plea. "We got lotsa jokes planned, who'll help us?"

"Jazz is too smart to join you imbeciles," Arcee remarked, looking up from her conversation with Mikaela.

"Take care," Mikaela called, then tapped the pink femme's arm. Their attention returned to the schematic drawings laid out on a table borrowed from the food area. The human was explaining some of the finer details of a modified motorcycle she'd built a few months ago.

Lennox chuckled at the news. "Good luck, Jazz."

Epps grinned as well. "You're quitting this life to help raise a teen? You're crazy, man." As Jazz walked away Epps turned to his captain. "Twenty bucks says he shows up at NEST within a month."

Lennox shook his head. "I don't bet."

"I'll take that offer," said one of the soldiers sitting nearby.

Yer gonna win it, too, Jazz thought with an inward smirk.

Optimus was waiting at the edge of the road. "Take care, Jazz-"

"-let Katrina know ya say hi, let ya know if I need anythin'..." Jazz rolled his optics. "I get the message. See ya around, Optimus."

Optimus nodded. "Your position will always be open, should you wish to return."

"Got it." Without further ado, Jazz transformed, and a silver Pontiac Solstice went zipping down the road at almost twice the speed limit.

"Primus be with you," Optimus murmured, watching until Jazz was lost from sight.

***

"Katrina, wake up."

"What is it?" yawned the girl, opening one eye and not stirring from her curled up position. "Are we there yet?"

"No, we're being followed."

Katrina sat up and peered out the back window. "What do you mean, followed? Who is it-ah!" She clutched her head. "Barricade!"

"I'm not the one-" the rest of his words were lost as a different voice filled Katrina's mind.

"Will ya slow down, ya slaggin' ex-Con?"

Barricade's reply was cold. "Watch your language around Katrina."

"What d'ya mean?"

A grin spread across Katrina's face despite her terrible headache. "Jazz? Barricade, is that Jazz?"

"Yes," Barricade said, looking around for a good place to pull over so he and the Autobot could talk without using their comms.

Clicking came from Morse. KNEW HE COME.

"Did-not-insect!"

"Don't fight," Katrina scolded, snatching Morse off the seat a split second before Frenzy reached him. "You two are acting like little kids."

"Are-not-and-he-started-it."

Morse made a hissing sound and the girl tapped his head in reprimand. "Behave, both of you... Barricade, where are you going?"

The police car had turned down a dirt road covered in potholes. "Some place we can talk," he replied.

"Are ya even listenin' ta me, 'Cade?"

"Don't call me that and stop comming. We can talk in a moment."

Katrina rubbed her left temple and relaxed as the pain ebbed away. "Thanks, 'Cade."

"Don't you start."

"Should I call you a slagging ex-Con instead?" the girl asked with an innocent smile.

Barricade stopped with a squeal of brakes, unceremoniously dumped all three passengers on the ground and transformed. Jazz shifted from altmode and found himself under the stern red gaze of the larger mech.

"Well done," Barricade said sarcastically. "Two minutes in our company and you've already taught the human a Cybertronian swearword."

"What are ya talkin' 'bout? I haven't even talked ta her."

Katrina gulped. She'd been careful not to speak of her strange gift while with the Autobots, but there was no way to avoid the subject now.

"She can hear our internal comms," Barricade answered for the girl.

Jazz was speechless for almost a minute. "Yer not serious."

"Completely. Surprised?"

The smaller mech shrugged. "A little, but it doesn't matter, she's still Katrina."

"What are you doing here, Jazz?" Katrina asked, taking advantage of the short pause to join the conversation.

"Coming with ya. I know ya don't want anythin' ta do with the Autobots, but ya did give me my life back and I wanna pay that debt."

"You don't owe me anything-"

"Oh, and 'Cade's not exactly guardianship material."

"You little..."

"Just 'cause ya're bigger doesn't mean ya can call me little!" Jazz warned, scowling at Barricade.

"I don't need your help."

"Yeah, and Frenzy's a toaster oven."

"Leave-me-out-of-this!"

Katrina grabbed Frenzy's left arm and pulled him aside. "Let them talk it out," she muttered, heading down the road. "See how long it takes them to notice we're gone."

TEN MINUTE.

"I-say-thirty."

BET.

"You-are-on. Loser-has-to-call-winner-captain-for-two-weeks."

DEAL.

"Guys!" Katrina exclaimed, exasperated. "You're as bad as those two." She waved her hand toward the scene behind them.

Barricade and Jazz were still glaring at each other, their conversation growing louder with every sentence.

"How d'ya plan on takin' care o' her, then."

"I'll figure something out."

"Ya're gonna have ta get a job, ya know. And a house. Katrina has ta go ta school. And she'll need food and clothes and-"

"Tell you what; you can come along if you deal with the specifics."

"Uh uh, I'm her guardian, not her father."

"I'm not her father, either!"

"Well, yer gonna need a good story for the school officials. How 'bout we're her uncles?"

"Good idea."

"Ya can be the responsible one who makes sure the bills are paid on time-"

"And you'll be the responsible younger brother who drops in every few months with a good-sized paycheck for the paying of said bills. Sounds good to me."

"Ya're the one disguised as a police car, so ya should be the one workin'."

"I'll get a job, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You get all the ID she's going to need and take care of all the shopping."

"No problem."

"And..."

"And what?"

"You breathe a word about my history to Katrina and I'll make you wish you'd stayed dead."

"That's goin' ta be hard... But all right, we've got ourselves a deal." Jazz held out one hand.

Barricade just looked at the other mech, confused.

"Human custom," Jazz said, rolling his optics. "They shake hands to seal a deal."

"Very well."

After they shook hands, Jazz added, "Katrina rides with me."

"Frenzy's not going to like that."

"Where is that little guy, anyway?" The silver mech looked around. "I haven't seen him."

"Neither have I."

"Say, 'Cade?"

"Don't call me that."

"Katrina's not here, either."

"WHAT?"

Jazz pointed at the double set of footprints. "Seems like she and Frenzy got tired o' waitin' for us ta end our discussion." He transformed, engine purring. "Race ya."

"Eat my dust."

Barricade and Jazz took off, leaving behind the smell of burning rubber and black scorch marks on the pavement.

About a mile down the road, Frenzy, Katrina and Morse crouched behind a handy boulder and watched the two cars zip past.

"You both lose," Katrina chuckled, looking at her watch. "Twenty minutes."

"Bet-they-don't-notice-they-lost-the-trail-for-another-twenty-minutes."

I TAKE BET. SAY TEN, Morse clicked.

Katrina groaned. How long are they going to keep this up?

Exactly seven and a half minutes later, Jazz and Barricade stopped in unison, brakes squealing as they did U-turns and raced back the way they'd come.

The End