Well, after about a month of head/desk bashing, trying to start this fic, I finally succeeded. I hope you like it as much as you liked Keeping Secrets.

Reviews, including constructive criticism, are welcome and appreciated. Also, if you have time, please send some good karma my way. Considering the onslaught of comp troubles I've been having lately, I need it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Transformers. :(

corrected as of 7/31/2012
(chapter replaced with new-and-improved-and-edited version)

"Hey, Optimus, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by for a quick visit, see what's kickin'."

"Uh, Ironhide? Ya there?"

"Ratchet? Hey, Hatchet, come outta hidin'!"

"This isn't funny, guys, where are ya?"

"Arcee? Sideswipe? Mudflap? Skids? Jolt? Lennox? Epps? Anyone here?"

"Medbay's empty, trainin' ground's empty, barracks're empty. Even the brig's empty. Where is everybody?"

Chapter One

A Normal School Day

"Hey, Alien, what's up today?"

Katrina ignored the boy standing nearby and continued searching through her locker for the English paper she was sure had been in there that morning.

"Got any lasers in there, Alien?"

The girl tried not to smirk as she collected the stray paper and closed her locker door. If the bullies thought she'd take their given nickname as an insult, they couldn't be more wrong. She had a hard time not laughing at them – there was no way they could know that her two 'uncles' were real aliens. Katrina herself wasn't completely human, though she looked it. Tucking the paper away, she started toward her next period class.

"What's the matter, Alien, don't you understand English?"

Despite the humor behind that nickname, it could get annoying after so many repeats along the same tired joke. Clenching her teeth, Katrina managed to sound relatively civil in her reply.

"Please step aside; I don't want to be late for class."

"'I don't want to be late for class'," mimicked the boy, then widened his eyes in mock horror when she raised a clenched fist. "Please don't hit me with your lightsaber, Alien, you might get hurt."

Several Cybertronian swears came to mind, but Katrina couldn't use any of them – the boy wouldn't understand. He probably couldn't even compute the word Cybertronian, she thought, barely hiding a smile. I'd bet seeing Barricade in his bipedal form would make this kid wet his pants.

A soft buzzing noise started emitting from her pocket and Katrina scooped out the cell phone, elbowing past the boy since he wasn't getting out of her way voluntarily. Startled, the boy took a step after her, then crumpled to the floor, clutching his stomach.

"Hey, dude, what's the problem?" asked one of his cronies, stepping across the aisle and lending him a hand.

"That little...she punched me! Did you see it, Tim?"

Tim scratched his head. "Looked more like a sock from an elbow, her hands were full."

"Aw, who cares? I'll get her back later, I swear it."

"What've you got against her, anyway, Rick? Her uncle's a cop; you should just leave well enough alone."

Rick shook his head. "No way. There's something fishy about that girl and I'm going to find out what it is. Come on, we'll be late for class."

The warning bell chose that moment to ring and there was a collective pounding noise as everyone remaining in the halls raced the tardy bell to their rooms.

Katrina quickly completed the math assignment her teacher handed out, then turned her attention to Morse, who had become a calculator – a new altmode he'd created in order to come to school. He preferred his original altmode, but cell phones had to stay turned off when in a classroom, and while Morse could be more silent than a grave and shut down in less than a millisecond, teachers would confiscate him on sight.

As a calculator, he could communicate without fear of being caught. Morse blinked ones and twos on the screen and Katrina responded by pushing the eight and nine buttons. It was great practice for Morse code and as long as she was careful to act like she was adding numbers for a math problem, they could talk during most of the class.

Math was Friday's final period, so Katrina and her friend discussed how the day had gone. First period, History, had been a pop quiz and Katrina hoped she'd gotten the answers right. Morse wished he could have helped, but the girl refused to cheat, even though keeping all those names and dates straight gave her a headache. Second period had started fine, but her Art teacher had kept her after class to discuss the girl's 'unusual application of oil paints' and Katrina had been late getting to the cafeteria, which meant no empty tables to claim. She had eaten outside, away from the crowds and cliques.

NEED FRIENDS, Morse blinked. He worried about Katrina – this was her second year at this school and she hadn't yet made any close friends. There were a few acquaintances that occasionally made an effort to include her, but she seemed perfectly content to drift along at the edges of the bustling school life. Morse had discussed the situation with the girl's guardians a few times, but there was little they could do. Barricade was unconcerned as long as his charge seemed happy about her situation. Jazz did consider it a problem, but speaking with the girl did nothing and the Autobot was too often gone these days to do much more.

Katrina shook her head, tapping the keys a little harder than she needed to during her reply. GOT YOU.

HUMAN FRIENDS, Morse replied, knowing what the answer would be before Katrina had finished tapping it out. They'd had this argument too many times to count.

DO NOT NEED. DO NOT WANT. EVER.

Morse sighed inwardly, then changed the subject.

Katrina loved Fridays because they meant another weekend had finally arrived, but she also hated them for to the mad rush everyone was in to get out the school doors first. Sleepover invitations were being yelled back and forth, demands of phone calls and get-togethers rising above the incessant, joyful hum.

Fighting against the crowd, Katrina made it to her locker and traded her backpack for a smaller one. She moved her homework and the few textbooks she needed to the second backpack before shoving the larger bag into her locker and slamming the door, almost on a boy's fingers.

"What do you want?" she snapped, irritated by the constant noise clawing at her ears and the appearance of her tormentor from earlier. The kid had been lurking around since the end of the school year before; she'd almost asked Barricade if they could move to a different town, just so she wouldn't have to deal with this amateur stalker. A summer-long road trip had calmed her down enough that she hadn't said anything, but now Katrina was beginning to think she'd made a mistake.

"What's your real name, Alien?"

"My name is Katrina Cade, as you well know," she snarled, shoving her face close to his. "If you have a problem with that, speak with my uncle. I'm sure he'll be happy to change his last name to suit your whim."

This drew a blank look. "Suit my what?"

Katrina was already halfway down the hall, being jostled from side to side by the crowd. At one point she found herself sandwiched between two boys wearing World of Warcraft t-shirts and shouting back and forth about some awesome movie commercial they'd seen on TV the day before.

"Man, they totally stole that idea off those guys from last summer!"

"That was so cool how they flickered the actual news in and out! I can't wait for the film to hit theaters."

"If it does - the last one got shut down in the final stages."

"Yeah, that really sucked. Say, are you free Saturday night? Thought we could get some of the others together for a tournament."

"Yeah, sure, if the 'rents agree."

Covering her ears, though it did little to cut down on the noise, Katrina pushed her way to the wall and tucked herself in a corner until the crowd had thinned enough that she didn't feel claustrophobic. Morse was vibrating in her pocket but she didn't pull him out until she reached the front door. Breathing in the fresh air, so much better than the recycled and conditioned stuff inside the school, Katrina skipped down the steps two at a time as she raised Morse to her ear.

"Don't bother taking the bus. I'm getting off early today."

"Okay," Katrina said, resisting the urge to punch the air in victory. She hadn't been looking forward to the hour long trip on a huge bus that smelled like old socks.

"If you'd rather take the bus, I can-"

"No, really, please pick me up," Katrina hastened to say, hoping Barricade was simply teasing her. The light chuckle that preceded his next words told her this was so, and she relaxed.

"Bad day at school?"

Tensing again, the girl sighed. "No." Then she brightened. If Barricade was asking about her school day, Jazz must have returned. Only the Autobot ever thought to ask how her day had gone – her other guardian seemed to assume that if she still functioned, all had gone well. For the most part, this was true, but it was nice to be reminded that someone cared. Though Barricade had already more than proven that by leaving the Decepticons and risking his life on a daily basis to protect her, he didn't express his feelings very often. Jazz made it clear he cared for her, but he was often gone on missions for the Autobots, and Katrina missed him during his absences. "Is Jazz back?"

"No, should he be?"

Katrina's shoulders slumped, then she perked up again. Barricade was making progress, if he had thought to ask about her day without prompting. "Then why are you asking how school was?"

There was a soft crackle of static – coming from a human it might have been a snort of derision. "Do I need Jazz to remind me about the finer details of raising a youngling?"

Yes, Katrina thought. You do. "No."

"Correct. I'll be there in five minutes."

"Okay."

Morse beeped, his signal for the call being over, and Katrina returned him to her pocket, not wanting another conversation that would lead to him suggesting she talk with one of the other kids waiting to be picked up. After brushing a few leaves off the bottom step with one sneaker, Katrina sat down and slid off her backpack, resting it in her lap. She leaned on the stone railing and closed her eyes. Why couldn't I be homeschooled? Last year she had suggested it to her guardians, but Jazz had said that she needed to socialize with her own species, and Barricade, surprisingly, had agreed. Frenzy had sided with Barricade, of course, and even Morse thought public school was a good idea. Katrina sighed.

Something thumped on the step beside her and Katrina blinked, then glared at the boy perched on the step above. It seemed her stalker had not finished bothering her for the day.

He smirked down at her. "Got a problem, Alien?"

"Do you?" she retorted. A honk came from the parking lot and Katrina turned her head, jumping to her feet as she recognized the police cruiser pulling into the parking lot. Backpack slung over one shoulder, Katrina raced across the parking lot and almost dove onto the rear passenger's seat.

"That kid bothering you?" Barricade asked, scanning the kid still sitting on the step, staring after Katrina.

Katrina shrugged. "Not really." Not enough that she needed her 'Uncle Cade' to deal with it, anyway.

"A potential boyfriend, perhaps?" the mech suggested, pulling out of the school parking lot.

"That's-not-funny-Barricade," warned Frenzy, noticing the girl's narrowed eyes. "At-least-Katrina-doesn't-think-it's-funny-you-really-shouldn't-tease."

"That kid's been giving me grief since last year. I pity the girl unlucky enough to have him for a boyfriend," Katrina growled, her purple eyes darkening with a fury that made her slam her seatbelt buckle into its slot with a little more force than necessary.

Barricade winced, more from the buckle jamming than in reaction to the girl's harsh words – his only interest in the young human male was how he interacted with the mech's charge. "What kind of grief? Do you want me to talk to him?"

"Something wrong, Barricade?" Katrina asked, frowning. "You're acting weird."

"Excuse me?" Barricade said innocently.

"You've never been worried about my school life before."

Brief static crackled over the car's speakers. "What school life? According to Morse, you're practically invisible except for a few kids who've attached the nickname 'Alien' to you. Shouldn't I be worried?" Barricade sounded more angry than worried, but Katrina didn't think it was a good time to point that out. "I know Jazz is."

"Where is Jazz?"

"Still away on that Autobot mission, I suppose. If everything went as planned, he should be back tonight."

Leaning back in her seat, Katrina sighed. The Autobots keep calling him away, or he keeps checking on them. I thought he was supposed to be my guardian.

"We're both your guardians," said Barricade.

The girl winced, realizing that she'd spoken her last thought aloud. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize, you're right, guardians are supposed to stay with-" Barricade was interrupted by a beeping noise from his radio. His hologram muttered a curse in a language that would have been impossible for a human's vocal cords to properly reproduce, then grabbed the handheld transmitter. "This is off-duty Officer Cade. What's the situation?"

"Got a bank robbery. Red van with black stripes, headed your way. I know you're off-duty, but-"

"I'm on it." Cade's hologram slammed down the transmitter. "Fragging humans can't do anything themselves," he muttered. "Hold on, Katrina."

Katrina tightened her seatbelt and moved Morse from her shoulder from her lap just in time. The sudden acceleration pressed her against the seat and she covered her ears as the siren wailed to life.