Chapter Six: A Fine Mess

A/N: If you're here for the updated chapter, go back to chapter 4 - it's completely new! I hope you enjoy.

BOOM!

Frankie actually jumped at the sound of the concussive explosion reverberating through the domestic portion of the Lab, this one louder than any other she'd ever heard—and living with her father, she had heard a lot of explosions. The book she'd been reading on natural selection slipped out of her hands, though she didn't bother to retrieve it. She was already out the door and heading towards her father's private lab before it even hit the carpet.

Her heart in her throat, Frankie unlocked the thick metal doors with a swipe of her keycard, and they whooshed opened for her with the familiar hiss of hydraulics. Frankie was instantly swamped in a cloud of thick black smoke that swept out into the hallway, and coughing into her fist, she made her way through it.

"Daddy?" she croaked, squinting through the murk.

"Over here, my dear!" came her father's ridiculously cheerful response, and she was finally able to make out his silhouette, swiping at the thick smoke still clogging the air. Beside him was the striking shadow of a much taller and bulkier being, and glowing blue optics found her amongst the gloom.

"How's it goin, kid?" Wheeljack rumbled, waving smoke away from her path and offering his enormous servo, which Frankie grabbed onto and used to lead her to her father and the bot.

"Good, I guess," Frankie coughed, and as soon as visibility began to return she saw her father leaning over some enormous, blocky thing on his examination table. Doc Greene stepped back, nearly choking on the fumes around them, and the girl saw that the smoke was coming from the strange item on the table.

"Well, my friend," Doc Greene began, lifting his goggles off of his soot blackened face. "It seems as if your fuel source was more combustible than we thought."

"Smaller dosage?" Wheeljack mused, crouching beside the scientist.

"Smaller dosage."

Frankie sighed, and not for the first time wondered if she were the only sane being in her home. "Daddy, were you experimenting with Wheeljack's alien fuel?"

"…Maybe."

At the look his daughter sent him, Doc Greene beamed comfortingly. "Not to worry, my dear. Wheeljack has assured me that it's perfectly safe." The object on the table before him shot out sparks and belched out some more smoke, as if purposely contradicting the scientist's words. "Right, Wheeljack?"

The Autobot didn't seem to have heard the good doctor, as he had snatched up the device as soon as the sparks had flown and begun fiddling with it. "Uh…sure, Doc," was all he mumbled, not doing much good to reassure Frankie.

The girl rolled her eyes, hands akimbo. "Didn't you tell me once that this…Energon of yours was extremely dangerous for humans?"

Wheeljack didn't answer for a moment, instead looking over the mechanism, and in that time Dither floated out from beneath the table where it had been hiding and cruised up and around to the bot's face, holding out its favorite toaster. "Toast?" it asked politely, though, as usual, Wheeljack barely paid it any heed and only waved the bot away as if it were nothing more than a pesky fly.

"Yes…" he finally amended, picking up a Cybertronian sized wrench from the equally large toolbox beside him. "Under most circumstances it's downright toxic. But I've distilled this solution enough so than it won't poison any of ya."

"Gee, thanks," Frankie teased, and Wheeljack smirked.

"Toast?" the Helper Bot supplied again and the Autobot batted it away with a growl.

Wheeljack returned the wrench to its proper place and pulled out an odd looking tool almost resembling a miniature crowbar, continuing his work on the device in his palm and Dither bobbed around him. "Yeah, I know it's not the most reassuring of odds, but— Dear Primus! Doc, could you call off your fragging bot before I whack it inta' a wall?"

"Oh, yes of course," Doc Greene said, before flagging down his Helper Bot. "Come down her, Dither!" The bot floated back down to its master, oblivious to how close it had come to an early offlining.

Now cowering behind the scientist, Dither murmured a tentative, "Toast?"

Doc Greene turned back to the Autobot with an apologetic look. "Sorry about that, Wheeljack. You were saying?"

The Cybertronian huffed. "You should both be safe around the distilled Energon. The bugs we're having are only the result of using human technology."

"Ah, yes, and speaking of human technology," Doc Greene added, nudging his Helper Bot away from his elbow. "There's a friend of mine who might be able to repair your ship."

"And why would some human be able to help with Cybertronian tech?" Wheeljack inquired without much curiosity, though Frankie was already beaming.

Doc Greene smiled as well, and he wiped the soot off his goggle lenses as he spoke. "Because, she's already created a craft that was well ahead its time, and is most likely the only other human, scientist or not, we can trust in Griffin Rock. What do you say?"

The two humans waited for Wheeljack to answer, and when he shrugged they released the breaths they'd been holding. "Couldn't hurt to try," was all the Autobot said.

"Good," Doc Greene said, putting his goggles back onto his head and walked over to the other side of his lab, gathering all sorts of scientific equipment. "We'll need these…Frankie, could you bring that trolley over?"

As his daughter complied, a shrill beeping abruptly filled the laboratory. Wheeljack was on full alert in an instant, crouched in a defensive position with one servo already replaced with a fusion cannon and the other still clutching the device.

"What's that?" he demanded as Doc Greene raced over to one of the monitors.

"It's the gate's proximity sensor," the scientist answered, gloved fingers flying over the keys. "Something's driving up to the Lab…" a live feed suddenly filled one of the screens and Doc Greene paled slightly. "It's the Chief."

"And?" Wheeljack muttered, already disinterested and had returned to his device, which had begun to look more and more like an engine as the residual smoke cleared.

"And you need to hide!" Frankie berated, stomping over to the indifferent Autobot. "We can't have Chief Burns waltz in here and find a giant alien robot!"

"So what do you suggest I do?" Wheeljack countered, glaring down at the girl from behind his invention.

Doc Greene intervened before the pair's argument could escalate any further. "Wheeljack, you must return to vehicle mode outside."

"But this 'Chief' of yours knows my alt mode. If he sees it he'll question you two."

The scientist shook his head, "No, I made a modification to your vehicle mode, remember? Now hurry, the Chief will be here any moment now!"

With a grumble, mixed with a few dozen Cybertronian curses, Wheeljack set down the new Scrapmaster engine and proceeded to storm out of the lab, the Helper Bot pursuing him with continuous cries of, "Toast? TOAST?!"

"Remind me again, Chief, but why are we investigating The Griffin Rock Laboratory?" Chase asked his partner as they pulled past the entrance gate. "Has Doc Greene or one of his employees broken a law?"

Charlie chuckled, hands resting easily on the police-bot's steering wheel. "Not as far as I know. According to several eyewitness accounts our speeder from two weeks ago was seen very close to here. We're just checking it out."

This seemed to be enough information for Chase as he hummed in satisfaction just as they arrived at the domestic portion of the Laboratory's complex and found a jet black sports car ostentatiously parked in the place where Doc Greene's yellow energy-saving Hummer usually rested.

"I was not aware that Doctor Greene was a fan of such flashy vehicles," Chase mused aloud.

"Neither was I," Charlie frowned. He unbuckled his seatbelt and exited the police car just as someone called out to him.

"Ah, Chief Burns! What a surprise."

Charlie chuckled, all traces of discontent erased from his features as he turned to face his friend. "Sorry to drop by unannounced, Doc," he amended, walking over to where the scientist was hauling a trolley laden with all kinds of scientific doodads out of his private lab building.

"Think nothing of it," Doc Greene said airily, carefully leading the trolley down a ramp. Charlie was surprised when the doctor stopped by the black sports car, opening the passenger side door and began to pile his items inside.

The Chief coughed discretely, though the good doctor didn't turn to look at him. "Doc, since when do you drive a sports car?"

"Since now," Doc Greene beamed just as he finished loading the remainder of his equipment. "Quite a beauty, isn't he?"

"Well yes, but—"

"Daddy!" Frankie chimed, stifling Charlie as she jogged out of the Lab as well, her pair of Doberman pinschers tugging furiously at their leashes. "I'm taking Edison and Aristotle for a walk. Oh, hi, Chief Burns!"

Charlie grinned weakly. "Hey, Frankie."

"Dad."

Doc Greene jumped, tearing his gaze away from a vial of blue liquid he'd pulled from his coat pocket and been examining. "Oh yes, be careful, dear!" He turned back to the Chief as his daughter was dragged off the grounds. "Were you saying something, Chief?"

Charlie sighed, shaking his head with a smile. "No, Doc. It was nothing."

"Very well. Then I must be off!" Doc Greene concluded cheerfully, closing the passenger door of his car before trotting over to the opposite side.

One of Charlie's bushy eyebrows rose in question. "Where are you off to, Doc?"

"Professor Baranova invited me over to her lab so we could compare notes and experiments," Doc Greene informed him happily, plopping down into the driver's seat and pulling the door closed. "I will call you later, Chief!" he shouted as he sped towards the gates, tires leaving behind a thin trail of smoke.

As the engine's roar began to fade, Chase inquired curiously, "Shall we pursue him, Chief?"

"Nah," Charlie said, folding his arms over his chest, "but we'd better keep an eye on that car of his."

"You think he suspects?"

Doc Greene glanced down at the dashboard of the disguised sports car, his gloved hands lying over the steering wheel but allowing the Autobot to do the actual driving. "Chief Burns always suspects," he shrugged. "He always has, ever since that accident about ten years ago... Turn right here."

Wheeljack complied, and Griffin Rock gradually disappeared in the Wrecker's rearview mirror. "What happened ten years ago?"

"I blew up the Lab while searching for a way to rid microwaves of their harmful radiation," the scientist shrugged absently. Wheeljack whistled in awed incredulity.

"And my team said I was accident prone…"

The doctor chuckled. "Ah yes, well, accidents seem to be my defining trait. Ah, keep straight ahead."

Wheeljack followed Doc Greene's directions, and the paved road son gave way to dirt. "So who's this friend of yours anyhow, Doc?" he asked. "And why couldn't the kid come with us?"

"The Chief would have found it suspicious," Doc Greene answered easily, keeping a firm hold on one of the crates of fragile vials he had moved onto his lap as the road became more uneven. "Besides, Edison and Aristotle did need a walk."

Not for the first time, Wheeljack harrumphed at his human companion's oddness, climbing a final bluff before a massive structure came into view in front of a desolate beach. It was shaped oddly; more like a space station from old science fiction films Frankie had been kind enough to show him, with a cylindrical center building and four pod-like constructions jutting out of the sides.

"What is that?" the bot sputtered, all he managed to say as he pulled up in front of the alien monstrosity.

"My friend's home," Doc Greene answered with a grin. Wheeljack opened the door for him and the scientist set his crate of vials down in his seat before climbing out walking over to the massive entrance. Greene pushed a button to activate the intercom and called to his friend.

"Professor, we're here!"

He stepped back, and seconds later an enormous door that had previously been molded into the wall slid open and a slightly bedraggled looking female in a smudged white lab coat similar to Doc Greene's stepped out.

"Hello, Professor," Greene greeted, and the woman smiled before getting down to business.

"Is that it?" she asked, pointing towards the ebony sports car.

Doc Greene nodded. "Yes, that's him. My…odd friend I told you about." Louder, he said, "You can transform, Wheeljack. There's no one else here."

The Wrecker should have run a scan of the area. Protocol and habit dictated it, but despite routine, Wheeljack trusted the human. He was definitely too oblivious to be a Decepticon spy anyway, if they were even allying themselves with humans. And so he transformed without even a cursory scan of the terrain.

Professor Anna Baranova gaped at the hulking transformer before her, at least five feet shorter than the tallest Rescue Bot but twenty times as menacing. With scarred visage, battered frame, and a pair of piercing, intelligent eyes, this bot was surely one to be reckoned with.

"Amazing…" Baranova breathed, not put off by the bot's healing gashes and old wounds. She cleared her throat, taking a hesitant step forward as she fiddling with her black rimmed glasses. "Hello, my friend! Dare I say you do bear quite a resemblance to Chief Burn's…rescue men. What is your name?"

"Wheeljack," the Autobot grunted, keen optics darting sharply over the landscape. He turned back to the humans with a furrowed brow. "We gonna go inside? 'Cause I don't really feel like winding up on your 'eleven O-clock news'."

The professor blinked before nodding quickly, gesturing toward the interior of her enormous home. "Ah, yes, yes of course. Please, come inside."

Wheeljack padded forward, carefully glancing over either shoulder before disappearing within the dark confines of the Midgard, its door sealing shut behind him.

"So you need a ship?"

Wheeljack didn't pause in his observance of the massive structure, glancing every which way as he answered the professor. "I need my ship."

"My friend was gunned down somewhere over Vermont," Doc Greene quickly interrupted, walking in step with the bulky Autobot and Baranova. "And he doesn't currently possess the materials or ability to repair it on his own, and we were wondering if you would be kind enough to lend your skills…?"

The professor paused in front of a pair of heavily sealed doors, punching in her code before they slid open with a hydraulic hiss, and were mercifully tall enough that Wheeljack only had to crouch to get through. "'Gunned down'?" she echoed, turning to face the Autobot with an austere look. "Gunned down by whom?"

"An enemy," Wheeljack huffed. Baranova opened her mouth to demand more information but the Wrecker cut her off. "Believe me, lady; the less you know about these guys, the better."

Baranova pursed her lips but said nothing else on the matter. "Fine." The professor was about to turn when an idea seemed to strike and she whirled back around. "But why should I help you…Wheeljack?"

"We'll give you samples of a rare fuel that only his race runs off of," Doc Greene said in a sing-song tone, rocking back on his heels with an air of innocence. "In other words, an alien energy source ripe for private study…."

Professor Baranova folded her arms over her chest with an easy grin. "All right, you've convinced me."