This story is a little plot bunny born after reading Stephbee's stories. It has to do with the formation of a Pet-bond between Sam and Bumblebee (no slash). As this type of bond is Stephbee's creation I have received her permission to use it as the premise of this story. Thanks to Stephbee for letting me do so. Please note my take on what a Pet-bond would be like is a little different than Stephbee's. If you find the concept interesting, please read Twenty years later and Lies, or not just the whole truth? by Stephbee

Also, please note, this story is AU to my other stories. Fluff warning.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. The characters and events in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual Autobots or their human allies is coincidental and completely unintentional.

Bumblebee stood silently in his bipedal form, staring out over the rolling hills below his current position. Within weeks of Sam's return to college, the two had found this secluded location; a place where Bumblebee could stand in his base-mode without fear of prying eyes. At the moment both Mech and young man were staring into space, their true gazes inward, though for vastly different reasons.

Bumblebee knew that for Sam it was because, just after the start of his second year at the university, Mikaela had broken up with him. That had been almost three months ago, but still the wounds stung.

He would recover, Bumblebee was confident of that. Sam was a survivor. And until then, Bumblebee would be there to support him however he could.

However, that was why Bumblebee was himself brooding within his own thoughts.

Pulling his gaze away from the depths of his troubled speculations, Bumblebee looked down at his charge. His spark ached to reach down and offer comfort.

But he was hesitant to do so.

Below him, Sam sat on a bolder, his left knee drawn up with that arm resting on his raised leg, the other reaching back to help stabilize his position on the large rock.

Sam looked so… vulnerable.

Vulnerable.

He had come so close to loosing Sam in Egypt. Had lost him for 8.2645 minutes to be exact. Loosing Optimus Prime had been a huge blow – even if they had gotten him back – but a part of Bumblebee had died when he had seen Sam's lifeless body. And then it had surged to life again when he had seen Sam draw in that deep breath and then stand under his own power very, very much alive.

In the immediate aftermath of the battle, Bumblebee had not had much time for deeper contemplations. It was not until well after Sam had settled back into his college life that he had had time for introspection. He could not get out of his processor how much it had devastated him to loose Sam. Following that that was the brutal realization that one-day he would loose Sam, whose life span was but the blink of an eye for a Cybertronian. With that, it was all he could do not to slip into a depression. Only the determination to enjoy and cherish every moment he had prevented it.

Selfish as it might have been, Bumblebee would do anything to avoid the searing pain of loosing Sam again. It was something that crossed his processors multiple times a day and kept him at a level of constant vigilance for his charge's safety, least his already short lifespan be cut even shorter.

And now…

Bumblebee shuttered his optics, heaving air through his vents.

He remembered the first time he had felt the brush of Sam's emotions against his own. It had been so faint, so brief: Bumblebee had concluded he had been mistaken. But then it had happened again a few days later and then with increasing frequency.

It was not until Sam's alien, yet startlingly familiar, consciousness was nearly a constant if somewhat distant presence, that Bumblebee realized what had happened. More than anything he would have desired a brother-bond with Sam. But he was Cybertronian and Sam was human. Such a bond was not a possibility.

Yet it was impossible to deny a bond existed. Which could only mean one thing.

Only one type of bond could exist between a Cybertronian and a non-Cybertronian.

It was the one type of bond forbidden by Autobot laws. Forbidden because it destroyed the autonomy and freedom to choose of the non-Cybertronian partner.

It was a pet-bond.

He had not yet said anything to Sam. He was afraid of what his charge – his friend – would do and think. It was a betrayal so deep it made his spark shudder to think about it. Instead, he had carefully blocked the link as much as he could – muffling it was perhaps a better description – while he contemplated what to do.

After just over a month since its discovery, Bumblebee was still not sure what to do. He could just sever it, but knew he had already violated Sam's freedom to choose by establishing a bond without his knowledge and perhaps even against his will. No bond between Cybertronians could be severed unless mutually agreed upon. It would therefore be another betrayal to just sever it on his own volition.

There he was left at an impasse.

He did not trust himself to make the right choice anymore.

Prime would know what he should do. But to seek Optimus' counsel would be to reveal his own treachery.

Bumblebee focused on Sam again. At the pain deep in his eyes. He wanted to do what was right by and for Sam. Prime would know what was right. That was his job. That was why he had the Matrix resting next to his spark.

Watching Sam continue to mourn Mikaela's infidelity, feeling that sadness through the muffled link between them, Bumblebee knew what his next step should be.

/Prime?/

Optimus' reply was immediate. /Yes, Bumblebee?/

/I…/ Bumblebee's courage almost failed him./I would like to request a private meeting of a personal nature./

This time there was a pause. /Is something wrong?/

/Yes./

/Does it have to do with Sam?/ Bumblebee could hear his leader's growing concern.

He stifled a keen before it could escape his vocalizer, took a moment to calm himself then framed his reply. /Yes, sir. His safety is not at issue. There is… something else./

/Something you are not wanting discuss on the comm.?/

/I believe this would be better handled in person, sir./

There was another pause as Optimus considered all of this. /Very well, Bumblebee. I know I can trust your judgment in such matters. I will arrange transport for you and Sam to Diego Garcia as soon as possible./

Bumblebee almost keened again knowing that, at least this once, Prime's confidence had been misplaced. Even so, in a way, now that the decision was made, it felt as if a load had been removed from his processor.

He focused again on Sam, then with another quiet venting of air he knelt down. Resting one finger on Sam's much smaller shoulder he chirped once.

The boy – no, young man – looked up at him, squinting slightly. "Hey, Bee."

Bumblebee's doorwings twitched slightly. He liked Sam's nickname for him. He did not say anything, he just waited to see what Sam would offer on his own.

After a heartbeat or four, Sam sighed, looking at his lap. "I'm just thinking Bee. I'll be alright."

"I'm here, if you want to talk." Bumblbee had grown adept at piecing bits and sound clips together not just convey words but also the emotions he wanted to express. It was almost seamless now.

Sam looked back up at him, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I know. Its just I… I'm not really sure what to think. I mean, I have all these things just running through my mind." He fell quiet for a moment and sighed again. "I guess I'm really just trying not to think. You know? Its so… quiet out here. Still."

Sam's gaze went back out to the admittedly beautiful landscape rolling below them. His next words were barely a whisper.

"Sometimes I wish we'd never met."

Bumblebee felt like Ironhide had just smacked him between his doorwings. "Saaaam?"

The word twisted out of his as yet damaged vocalizer as he considered his charge. That did not bode well for him – what about when Sam learned of that cursed bond?

But the boy looked up at him sharply, then smiled somewhat. "No, not you buddy. Mikaela." Sam shook his head firmly. "I wouldn't give anything for meeting you and the others. No way. You know I had a crush on her since I was like ten?"

Bumblebee let his relief at his friend's words show, though he secretly wondered if it would stay that way. It was everything he could do not to let his own growing despair show.

"Sam," He began after a moment. "Optimus is arranging transport for us to base. There is something important I must do."

Sam straightened, his previous brooding seemingly replaced by concern. "Is everything alright Bee?"

Bumblebee hesitated. He was determined not to lie to his charge – why add insult to injury? – but he was not yet ready to tell him about what had happened. "I will know more after talking to Prime."

Sam frowned. "You can't just comm. each other about it?"

Bumblebee let his doorwings droop. "Not this." He looked down.

He knew Sam was moving, but was still surprised when his warm hand pressed against his cheek plating. "Can you tell me what is bothering you?"

Bumblebee almost did, he wanted to, but fear held him back. "Not yet Sam. I'm sorry. I really am. But I need to speak to Prime first."

Sam considered him for a moment. Then the flickering of determination – that same determination that had driven the youth across the Egyptian desert nearly two years ago – lit his eyes.

Sam nodded. "When do we leave?"