Disclaimer: Transformers, anything to do with it, and any other characters mentioned in this story do not belong to me in any way, shape, or form. This story is not written or used in any commercial purposes. Basically, I do not own anything!

By: Wind of the Dawn

Chapter 2: Think Twice Before You Do Something

Warnings: Extreme crack, language, slash, and some ooc abound. If you don't like it, then please don't read it. And remember, not all stunts are possible, so do not try anything mentioned in here. Aside from that, other dangerous behaviour should not also be tried anywhere.


Sam had better start thinking twice before he act.


Throbbing music and the swirling waves of colours danced across his eyes, while the fruity taste of the tropical punch slid across his tongue. Teasing him with its icy coolness and the exotic taste of summer fruit.

Hands draped across his lap, Sam heard the fading laughter of his friends swing around the field, reverting between the loud throb of a drum and the soft whisper of a harp. His head was heavy and dizzy, but why?

"Sam?"

A familiar British accent disturbed his nonsensical pondering, and Sam gazed up at his guest questioningly with hazy eyes. He was pretty sure that he did not know the dashing male that stood in front of him, eyeing his slowly reddening face with much trepidation and alarm. Why did he have that look on his face? It was supposed to be a fun celebration. A party to rejoice in their victory in one of the latest battles between Autobot and Decepticon. The male should have been laughing with everyone, dancing freely under the moonlight in this happy moment.

The male chuckled, a warm sound that caressed the wind. "How could I do that if you're clearly not well?"

Not well? Sam was well, and perfectly fine. In fact, he had never felt better!

"No, Sam, you're not."

What?

Sam must have voiced his previous thoughts out muddily, as the male was now gazing at him in part amusement and majority concern. Reaching out gently to brush against Sam's burning cheek, he leaned in closer and breathed in slowly, facial expression rapidly morphing into anger once he discovered something that he didn't like one bit.

Carefully taking away Sam's fruit punch from where it stood on the bench he sat on, the male tossed it through the air and into the bin, with nary a drop of liquid spilling. Grasping Sam by an arm, he slowly pushed him to lean against the back of the bench, then turned and called out to a furry green figure in the distance.

"Ratchet," The male called, a surprisingly strong voice -yet still oh-so gentle- shooting through the loud wails of music and techno colours slinging through the air, "Ratchet, come quick! Someone spiked the punch with a bit of alcohol, and Sam's ingested some. He doesn't look too well."

The green figure jerked, a nauseating movement that threatened to send Sam dropping in the abyss of darkness with something pushing up against his throat. It reminded him so much of his first roller coaster ride, with the sudden ups and downs, with the unexpected twist that would always come, swinging you against the person next-

Leaning over the bench and escaping from the male's soothing grasp, Sam puked onto the ground. There went his dinner, as well as anything else he ingested that night. Moaning uncomfortably, he let himself get pulled up gently and leaned once more against the bench. Pressing his forehead lightly against the cool hand that covered his forehead, Sam slowly drifted off into sleep, ears still straining to hear the activity happening around him.

"Fraggit!" Ah, the lime green one was here "The twins must have spiked the human refreshments again."

"How can you be sure that it's them?" A silence ensued, as if one party was eyeballing the other with the sheer impossibility of the question.

"Right, who else would in this area."

"Indeed." Replied the dry voice that was slowly nearing him.

The grinding sound of hydraulics suddenly rang next to Sam's ear and he let out a faint sound of surprise and fear. No! Who was it? Bumblebee!

"Relax, Sam. It's only us. No need to be afraid." As if reading his mind, a smooth palm brushed against Sam's sweat dampened forehead and combed through his darkened hair, chasing his worries off into the sky. He knew that voice, that gesture. It was ...

"Bumblebee."


For the second time in the same day, not an hour after his impromptu departure into the sky with a much unwanted companion and his sudden marriage notice kindly delivered to him by his emotional mom, Sam Witwicky woke up with a jerk, a torrid of bad memories, and a cracking headache. Feeling very much like he had just gone one on one with a skyscraper in a wrestling match again, he groaned fitfully and lowered his head into his chest. Why was his head still aching so much?

Faintly, a memory stirred.

Slitting his eyes open a crack, he spied his surroundings as he heeded his survival instincts that were currently screeching at him to play dead and deny everything. Hopefully, Starscream would think that his previous groan was that of someone getting significantly bad dreams and reacting negatively unconsciously towards it. If all went well, the mech would assume that he was still asleep; if not, well, then there would be a whole bunch of trouble and questions to chew on.

Personally, Sam hoped that Starscream would pick the first option. Even though he was burning for answers (since when did he agree to marry anyone?), he wasn't so keen on playing a game of twenty questions with the seeker. Considering that he was previously very much out for his blood before this sudden one eighty attitude change, Sam thought that playing dead would be a very wise choice. A less troublesome one as well.

Sadly for him though, Starscream decided to be extra perspective that day. Once his systems had recorded the groan and processed it, he immediately sent out an army of scanners on the boy. Lights flashed on and off in the Jet's cockpit, turning the place into a very bad rendition of a disco ball gone wrong. Raising both his hands to shield his stinging eyes, Sam howled loudly. The lights, they blinded through his eyelids!

Cussing loudly as he tended to his agitated retinas (Oh, how they throbbed), Sam growled when he heard Starscream hum in glee and satisfaction, most likely achieving what he had aimed for when he released the neon lights that still refused to dim in the cockpit. At that moment, Sam came to the realization that once everything was over he would most certainly need to see an optometrist. It couldn't be healthy for his eyes if he constantly looked directly at sights such as these, or if he sometimes had to stare up at the glowing beams from a Decepticons cannon, an action that most Decepticons liked to cohere out of him.

The sadists.

Musing silently over the facts of life and his common misfortune in meeting the enemy, Sam wondered how on earth he was going to get out of this situation, like, preferably now. Obviously, playing dead was out of the picture and he'd probably get another burst of disco lights if he tried to do so again. An escape attempt also seemed like a really really bad idea, with him being thousands of miles in the air and all. Threatening the seeker wasn't an option. It just wasn't. And so, that left...

Drawing in a nervous breath, Sam prepared himself to pester Starscream for answers. He would not take silence as a response. Opening his mouth, he decided to ask Starscream what on earth did his mom mean by marriage.

"What was that for!" He questioned, voice jumping up a notch or two.

Unfortunately, calmness and staying on topic had never been Sam's strong point. Give him an apple and he'd turn it into an orange for you.

"You're going to have to elaborate on that question, boy." Starscream, the ultimate epitome of calmness, replied. "What was what for?"

"That," Sam gestured at the still blinking disco lights in the cabin and the world in general. "That."

Starscream stared at Sam from an unknown location (you couldn't really tell where the actual head compartment was after they transformed), and dryly dissected Sam's query. "Very detailed, boy. Thank you for helping me understand your previously vague question."

There was so much sarcasm soaking the sentence that Sam could practically feel it oozing into the enclosed place he was in. Not quite willing to tempt fate in seeing if said ooziness would actually become solid and touchable if left long enough, or if Starscream would finally snap from his lack of attitude and chuck him face first into the sky, he rectified his lack of basic courtesy (Courtesy, to a Decepticon, Sam's mind murmured, the world has finally gone mad) and attempted to be more civil.

Attempted, being the key word.

Time had ingrained the instinct of Run, Sam, Run! into the agitated boy's mind, and being stuck in a Jet thousands of feet off the ground in the very vessel that was his enemy was a situation that his shrieking instinct had always worked to prevent from happening. Now that it happened, there was no way in the seven seas that it would be easy to rationally think things through. Thus, Sam snapped even harder.

Being civil and calm had never been tougher.

"This, this!" Sam yelled "What is this? Why are you on speaking terms with my mom? Where is Bumblebee? And why am I getting married?"

Observing stoically as the human basically started having a breakdown of epic proportions, Starscream brushed aside the hysterical tone and focused mainly on the slurred out words. Answering the key points diligently and ignoring some questions best left alone, he provided the now hyperventilating boy with much needed knowledge.

"Sam," He stated steadily, internal sensors blaring loudly as the boy's heart rate soared in a reminiscence of an impending heart attack when he had called out his name flatly. "I am currently transporting you to the wedding location, I know your mother from previous communication sessions, and you are getting married because you agreed to get married."

Well, that helped a lot. Not.

Exerting an impressive feat of will in suppressing his inner storm, Sam grasped the dashboard and its various knobs and buttons in his hand and squeezed. Taking in a fearful sort of triumph as he felt the Jet wobble a bit in uncertainty (Sam bet that Starscream had never had a squishy inside him fiddling with his various facilities before), he groused out his objection to the given answer. "That," Sam growled, revealing a more scarier side to his nature "Was not an answer."

Normally, such a sudden behaviour change would have at least attracted a wary glance from the Autobots. Sadly for Sam, Starscream was a hardcore Decepticon warrior. And more importantly, he was also the favourite punching bag of Megatron for eons already, hence making him literally immune to all glares and abuse except for Megatron's.

Whether that accomplishment was astounding or not remained debatable.

Brushing Sam's homicidal glare away, Starscream evenly said that yes, it was an answer, he had replied all of Sam's questions, while Sam glared even more and said Fuck no, that was as helpful as a stick, and could he count or not because he missed his question on Bumblebee.

A challenging silence ensued.

Seconds ticked by as Sam resisted the urge to just get up and whack his surroundings, he was going to slowly but surely turn insane if he didn't get any real answers soon, and none of those cryptic and half truths, thank you very much. Clenching his hair between his fingers and pulling at it, he cursed life in general. What was going on?

Meanwhile, Starscream stared at the boy, perturbed. For all the time he had spent with the boy in good spirit (hunting him), the boy had never displayed such funny mood changes. Maybe the pre-marital nerves was affecting him worse than he had initial estimated. Although... Was short term memory loss included in stress symptoms? This was climbing into an alarming category of its own.

Internally pondering the possibility of the boy's intended treating him as target practice once it became known that there was possibly something wrong with the jabbering human, Starscream carefully tested the water, so to speak. "Boy," Starscream said, voice filled with some sort of foreboding vibe "What do you remember?"

Perhaps his own question was not much better than the one asked by Sam (goodness knows that it lacked specificness itself), because the boy gaped like a fish for a moment. Deciding to narrow his enquiry down to a more manageable level for him, Starscream was just about to rephrase his question when Sam answered the most explosive way that he could.

Eyes bulging out wide with his face rapidly turning white, Sam somehow managed to stare unnervingly and accurately into the mech's hidden optics, and rasped out a few soft words, not unlike a paranormal spectre with the way he was now acting.

"I don't remember anything."

Surely he didn't really mean that. "What?" Starscream double checked "What?"

Repeating his words like he was speaking to a child, Sam accented his reply hard and in bold letters. "I. don't. remember. anything."

Engines spluttering in protest and absolute horror, Starscream took a sudden nosedive in the air. He couldn't really mean that! "What do you mean you don't remember anything? You can't not remember anything!" Never before had Starscream heard of pre-marital stress causing one party to literally forget everything, but if it was true, him causing it or not, he was scrapped metal.

Fingers clenching tightly under the abrupt acceleration down the sky, Sam gritted his teeth in dull fear and annoyance with both emotions battling valiantly to take over his systems. Slamming his fist in exasperation on Starscream's dash board, he growled out loud "I meant what I said. I don't remember everything." Screw remembering anything about the nonsense that everyone except him was sprouting, all he knew was that life had been average for him before yesterday. Nothing out of line. No proposing maniacs. No kidnappings without his guardian overseeing them and rescuing him.

Wait a second... Before yesterday?

Sam's sluggish ponderings were disturbed by Starscream's continuous wild screeching as he vehemently started denying all that was wrong. Apparently, he wasn't the only one that woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day, because the seeker seemed to be experiencing problems of his own. Namely, a more explosive emotional circuit, for some reason. Sam had seen him panic (mildly) before, however he had never seen the Jet acting anything like this before. He was practically raving. What crawled up his pipe?

(Sam was blissfully unaware of the fact that Starscream was personally liable for his wellbeing and was answerable to all happenings to him, his own fault or not. Hence, once known that the boy actually had really obtained amnesia... Let's just say that he has a very very good imagination and prediction of his impending fate.)

"Oi," Trying to attract Starscream's attention and prevent the jet from smashing into the rapidly approaching ground, Sam hit the dash board with the spite of one rightfully angered. Persisting in his demeaning actions when the Jet remained completely oblivious to his increasingly frantic summons (Sam could see the tiny roofs of cars below him now and he was not liking it one bit), he felt his already shot emotional centre become even more fried up. He refused to die in a hysterical Decepticon with no control over his own emotions and without answers like this dammit.

Pulling an act of extreme danger, Sam grabbed the... stick positioned in front of him and forcefully commandeered it. Jerking it towards himself in a lack of anything else to do (he had never piloted a plane before, and really, didn't his action mean fly up now anyway?), he hoped fervently that the Jet would indeed turn its nose upwards instead of the 'splat' direction immediately. Feeling the metal beneath him groan in protest and heat up devastatingly, Sam thought that Starscream would be one lousy mech if he couldn't pull off sudden manoeuvres like this. Shouldn't he be the elite trine commander that had awesome flying abilities or something like that? Unless, of course, his previous bragging while chasing him down was all lies.

Sam wouldn't put it past the seeker to brag a lot. He seemed the type to do so.

Ignoring that first though, the ground was getting closer. Were Starscream and him really going to smack face down onto the approaching concrete soon? Not if he could help it. Bracing himself steadily, Sam continued to pull on the stick, absently taking into account the weird sounds that were admitting from Starscreams engine. Somehow the seeker must have returned to reality, because suddenly the Jet pulled a seemingly impossible ariel stunt that resulted in everything being inverted all at once, and pulled into the sky again in high speed. Recovering from his impromptu whiplash from the twist and turns, Sam released a shaky breath. Seriously, what was up with Starscream?

"So much for not letting anything happen to me." He snarked.

Twisting once again and relishing in a panicked yelp, Starscream snarled back. "That is the least of my concerns now, boy. What do you mean you don't remember anything?"

Shaking his head at the snarling Jet and his one track mind (didn't he notice that they were just freefalling a moment ago?), Sam slowly answered the repeated question again. "I told you before. I don't remember anything, including this marriage you all are talking about. And please, this time, don't take a nose dive again."

Nursing his burning gears (the boy displayed surprising strength in manhandling his tender circuits) and conveniently excluding the last part from his audio systems (Decepticons's never panicked), Starscream glared incredulously at the seated boy. This was... This was... This was a catastrophe.

What is going on? Both human and mech cried silently in their respective processors.

"Is this a joke?" Starscream questioned desperately, perhaps the boy was just pretending and riling him up on purpose. "Surely you are just tweaking my processors, right? If you are, it's cruel!"

Sam was that close to pulling a Judy. What was with this infuriating day and people constantly paying no heed to his actual questions? They weren't even wrapped up in those meddlesome riddles and curses that you always had to solve on those television shows! Maybe Starscream's battles with the Autobots had finally knocked some screws loose.

Or maybe it was Megatron who had knocked some screws loose in him. Considering the stories that Bumblebee had always chittered to him about the two, it was entirely possible.

Talk about a complicated relationship.

And who was Starscream to talk about cruel? He was the one that was constantly hounding him for god knows what.

Sam snorted, a loud and unpleasant noise. "Ha. Joking. Right. Why on earth would I do that! Do you think I actually like pretending to have amnesia? I don't remember anything you fragging little glitch!"

Starscream pulled another horrified expression internally. Such language! Who on earth taught him swear like that?

(Somewhere far far away a certain lime green medic twisted a recovering mech wrong in the arm and raised an eye ridge amidst a pain filled yowl, wondering who was talking about him and questioning his swearing skills)

Noticing that he had swerved off topic again, Starscream pulled himself back to line. Steeling himself in case of another soul wrenching piece of information that would send him cart wheeling towards land again, he approached Sam like a cat to a dog. Utterly unwilling and with the possibility of being bitten. Which was ridiculous of course, he was Starscream, second in command of the Decepticon army and the leader of The Seeker Trine; no puny human would best him... Was that a bat he saw floating next to the boy?

Indeed, after Starscream had repeatedly rebooted his optics several times, the unmistakable figure of a bat was floating next to Sam's head, completely invisible to everyone but him. Instantly thrown back into a memory of the first time he had met the female parental unit of the boy with her deceivingly bright smile and the dented bat she had took with her in menacing the future in-laws of her son, the seeker shuddered. This was a very bad. Very bad. If the bat was here, did that mean that the female was somehow aware of the mistreatment and condition of her offspring? Even though she was grounded while he and the boy were thousand of miles up in the air? What power was this?

"So ... boy, why do you insist that you do not remember anything" There were times when a mighty warrior had to bend a bit, and Starscream thought that from the looks on the boys increasingly fuming face, he had better subside his pride a bit just before he got whacked by an identified object, like say, the bat that was still floating next to Sam's head.

(Starscream had never considered the fact that he might have been hallucinating, if giant robots even hallucinated. In his defence, he really didn't want to find out if Samuel Witwicky had inherited his mother's infamous batting skills.)

Sam glared at the dashboard and attempted to perfect his eye-fu, hoping that Starscream would just suddenly kneel over. What part of he didn't remember did he not understand? And just what part of his previous howls and screeches did he get the impression that he was fibbing?

Smacking the side of his seat threateningly and inviting a flinch from his out-of-character transport, Sam gritted his teeth and snarled. This was Fubar! Fubar! Absolutely Fubar! Grinding his teeth repeatedly and letting out funny sounds that sounded suspiciously like a mixture of grinding mortar and overstressed hydraulics, Sam eyed the Jet without blinking while his mind attempted to work out a suitable manner of conversing with the Decepticon. From what he had been trying already, Sam had an impression that their conversation was going nowhere.

Right, Sam decided, Time to dumb things down a bit.

Instantly rewriting Starscream's position as 'scary screechy mech' within his mind cabinet into 'weirder than usual with less processing speed', Sam revamped his script on the greatly misunderstood mech and started treating him in a way best fitted to deal with a child. Seriously, as some super advanced robot with millenniums of experience on a puny human, shouldn't Starscream be smarter than this?

Evidently not, because he still didn't understand what Sam was trying to tell him.

"Starscream," Sam said, with exaggerated slowness, "I don't remember anything about this marriage business and your sudden relationship with my mom. I need you to tell me everything you know about this."

Starscream spluttered, Cybertronian spit flying everywhere in his engine, making him note down a mental memo to clean himself after he reached his destination, provided he wasn't turned into scrap metal first. Or gave himself a crashed processor. Whichever came first. "But- but you can't not remember!"

Resisting the urge to bash his head into the glass, Sam despaired. Why was his denial so strong? Shouldn't he be the one whom was more hysterical over the whole business? And why did Starscream still not understand? They had already spent most of the day arguing about one single subject! Deep breaths, Sam. Deep breaths. Don't let the crazy mech bring you down.

Or alternatively, let the mech bring you down, and unleash the inner Judy.

Instantly going through a quick transformation sequence that resulted with absolutely no appearance changes, but with a one eighty back flip in his personality, Sam smashed his hand down on Starscream's much abused dashboard. Eyes shining brightly like he had in-built light bulbs in them (such was his fury that Sam was starting to defy the world's logic), he roared out loud in an admirable imitation of Megatron's war cry. "Starscream," Sam bellowed, his own eardrums ringing spastically in the resulting echo within the tiny one man cabin "Shut up!"

The seeker meeped, jerked out of his armour with the sudden Megatron-like clone in his cabin. What was with the world slinging homicidal beings in his face these few orns? First Megatron and his constant 'you have failed me again STARSCREAM!' , then Optimus Prime and his sudden face demanding antics, and now a human boy that was slowly morphing into a mixture of himself, Megatron, and his mother, along with a side order with amnesia and forthcoming doom via betroth. What was this? An alternate universe?

"Don't presume that you can order me boy, you -"

"Starscream," Sam groused out loud, flaming visions of doom and anger lurking forebodingly in his oh-god-I've-snapped eyes, "Before I take out my mallet. Shut up."

About to continue his disrupted sentence, Starscream stopped in consideration. He observed no existence of a mallet, but could he trust his senses? There was already the vague outline of a baseball bat fleeting teasingly at the edges of his optics, so could he trust his senses when they told him no such mallet existed? Aside from that, was Samuel Witwicky capable of hitting as hard as his female parental unit? If he was, Starscream was so slagged.

(Starscream was still a little dazed from all his constant worrying and ... other issues, so logic didn't sit well with him at the moment. There was also the presence of the overprotective guardian/parent/betroth that Sam always had, or would have, lurking around him, waiting for a single moment to strike at the unwary. So, naturally, tossing the boy out was a big no.)

"Fine, boy." Becoming increasingly unstable, Starscream assented to Sam's less than polite request "I will remain quiet." For now.

Satisfied over the compliance, Sam nodded his head condensingly. Now they were going somewhere, and if all things remained smoothly he would finally get the answer he long seeked for. Hurray.

"Now, Starscream," Mentally categorizing his question and answer list, Sam decided to act on his many info blanks and grill the sulky mech for glorious information. "What happened yesterday?"

Pulling a what, Starscream's engine whined unflatteringly. Where did that question come from? "What?"

Waving his hand around in the confined air space, Sam gestured at unknown objects. "Yesterday," He said "Yesterday, you know? At the ... party, I think?" Flashbacks weren't really reliable, and considering how drunk Sam appeared to be in what he remembered he definitely needed a more reliable, not to mention sober, source to clear up his wonderings.

Starscream stared. What party? There was no party! Decepticon's never partied after the famous Megatron got drunk incident. They still haven't managed to get all the debris's out of Skywarp's boosters yet, and it was already more than centuries since the incident!

"Boy, there was no party."

"There was none?" Then what was his little reminiscing about? Head dropping down in exasperation, Sam wondered if he would ever get his answers. "Are you sure?"

Starscream provided an affirmative to Sam's reply. There was indeed no such party on their part, but... "The Decepticon's had no party, however there was a staged attack on the Autobots last night."

Instantly perking up with renewed hope in his eyes, even though one of his enemies had just confessed that they had indeed attacked his allies just the night before, conveniently at the same time in which he forgot everything with any importance, Sam stared eagerly at Starscream's hidden face for any continuous data streams.

Once again unnerved by Sam's uncanny accuracy in guessing hidden Cybertronian face spots, Starscream hesitated before he dropped his next bombshell. Hopefully the boy would not hit him for this. "There was an attack, but I wasn't there."

Silence occupied the cabin and Starscream was now reminded of Soundwave's eerie silences when he drifted off somewhere to plot whatever he plotted. Eyeing the once more stiffening face of his temporary charge, he felt his nonexistent gut drop down in anxiety. This was not good.

Lunging desperately at any way of saving the situation, Starscream tried to salvage whatever chance he had left at living. The human looked close to having a fit, which would get him slagged by his betroth if it was ever found out; and even if he didn't have one, he'd probably pull out the mallet.

"I wasn't there due to trine issues," The seeker rapidly informed, "However, if you agree to my proposition, I believe that I can help you with remembering."

"Oh?" Looking up darkly from his spastic thoughts, Sam lifted an eyebrow and crossed his fingers, offering the seeker a quaint little smile "And how?"

(Unknown to Sam, Starscream was now reminded of his betroth in one of his more sinister moments.)

"You want to know what happened last night, and deducing from your knowledge about the party and various other information I assume that you were present."

"Yes, I was. Go on."

"As you most likely know, Cybertronians possess many things that have not reached human consumption or understanding. Amongst one of such things is a chemical most commonly known as-"

"Starscream," Sam cut into the mechs ensuing scientific information session, raising his head slowly and acting very much like a certain mech that the seeker knew. "Get to the point."

A nervous affirmative. "Yes, as I was saying, some Cybertronians are capable of emitting memory jogging substances, and I am one of them. Regardless of current or previous uncertainty, such substances will be able to clear your lack of memory and allow you to witness them again. If you permit, would you like to use them?"

Eyes arching up into his forehead, Sam stared in pleasant surprise at the jabbering mech. He never knew that the Decepticon could actually be more polite than before. He seriously thought that he would have rather swallowed his foot, considering how Starscream had struggled to pronounce his name civilly before.

(Sam was not aware of his parallel personality and actions that had resulted from his temper going way south were actually a close semblance of a certain mech that had haunted the corridors of the Decepticon base.)

"And this won't harm me?"

"No." As if he would dare on such a day.

"Fine then, hit me."

Human expressions were still beyond Starscream. "What?"

Sam sighed, "I meant, let's give it a go."

Still slightly confused, Starscream nodded and activated his protocols. Releasing the memory jogging chemicals into the air, he watched as the boy slowly fell into sleep again.

That was a necessary step in retrieving memory, and considering the boy's increasingly alarming antics he wasn't going to protest against the sudden quiet. Besides, he would wake up in time of the wedding and the chemical was no harm to humans, so he would be spared a meeting with a certain mech.

It was for the best.

Meanwhile, as Starscream relaxed, Sam tensed. Falling asleep again was not in the deal or explanation. And to think that he decided that he wasn't going to use his mallet on Starscream.

Ah well, at least the disco lights were finally off.


And so... Another chapter!

Wind and Dawn dances in happiness.

Thank you to all those who reviewed and added this story to your fav or alert list!

We hope that you've enjoyed this chapter, and we sincerely wish that you found it as funny as the last. Please leave a review, they are our encouragement!

The plot thickens, I won't reveal the mystery mech first... But ... Try and guess!

Sobs over assignment, Wind is worried. Wails

Wind of the Dawn out~