A/N: I have, as of late, become completely enamored by AVP fanfiction. You can thank my bff Ms. Kaydeeblu for that. It's all her fault. I have several story ideas in the works, but I have found that there is a great deal of research to be done before I can write a decent story in that fandom. Patience, I'll get there. I would like to thank my frined B. A. Gemar for pointing me in the right direction for my research and her patience in answering my overwhelming plethora of questions regarding AVP cannon. Hop over and read her stuff, she has an incredible trilogy entitled Legendary. Starting with "Cold Hands" and the currently running "The Unforgotten" and ending with "Inhuman," which has yet to make its appearance on fanfic. I am a huge fan, and you should be as well! She is a specatcular author and story teller. Go give her some love!

Chapter 1

"Hey, are you looking at me?" She hadn't been, he was just aiming for something to do. Rumble stepped in front of the girl with her brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Average and slender, she blended in with all the other insects, she just happened to be in the right place at the right time, and no other reason prompted his attention on her. Her large brown eyes widened at the accusation.

"No!" she protested rather loudly. And then startled by the force in her own voice, she took a small step backward.

"Are you calling me a liar? I saw you looking at me!"

"N-no… Lord… I didn't…" her voice trailed off and her head dropped forward shaking silently from side to side. He was getting to her, this would be fun.

Rumble did a quick scan on the female before him. Her pulse quickened, blood pressure rose, muscles tensed, electrical pulses raced up and down her nervous system. She was terrified, it was exquisite. He straightened to his full hieght, towering over her with a mischevious grin. But then his scan picked up something new. A small electrical device in her pocket. The Decepticon frowned, grabbed the girl's upper arm and yanked her closer to him. Leaning down, he fished into her blue jeans pocket with one large digit and pulled out a small, flat rectangle. Holding it between thumb and forefinger, he asked, "What is this?" He knew well what it was, but the question made the fleshbag squirm.

Keeping her head tilted forward, her gaze fixed on the stolen prize. "M… mp3 player, Lord."

"MP3 player," he echoed. "That's for music, right?" She nodded, her eyes never waivering from the device. He subspaced it. "You insects aren't allowed to have electronics." Her eyes flicked up, almost to his face, and then dropped back to the floor. "It's mine now." He reached behind pulling one of his large cannons from its mount on his back. Making a show of examining his weapon, he taunted, "What am I gonna do with you…"

He expected her to beg. He expected her to plead. He expected her to cry. He expected her to barter.

"You won't shoot me." Defiance. He hadn't expected that.

He stopped what he was doing and stared at her for a moment. Open defiance. It was written in the way she clenched her fists, in the way she glared at the purple badge on his chest armor, in the way she stood with her feet planted defensively, knees bent and back straight. Alright, he thought, I'll play along. "And why not?"

"You would have done it by now." Well that just took all the fun out of it. Maybe he should shoot her.

"Oh, really? You must some kind of psychic if you know what I'm gonna do before I do!" Bending into a half crouch, he leered into her face, "What am I gonna do now?"

She turned her head aside, mindfully avoiding looking at him directly. Her posture softened as she leaned back on her heels away from the mech. "You always pick on us when you get bored," her tone was meek, but her words were something else altogether. "I've seen you do it before. That's all."

Rumble released her arm, noting with satisfaction that it was already turning purple where he had gripped her. She rubbed at the bruises gingerly, keeping her gaze appropriately diverted. An idea struck him. This little insect was managing to stand her ground, she could be a source of entertainment for a few cycles. "You're gonna do some extra duties—for me." Her eyes widened and she dropped her gaze to the floor again. "After your work cycle, you come see me. Cause if I have to go find you… I'll be sure to drop off this little mp3 player with an overseer first. Are we clear?" She nodded. "Get outta my sight."

~R~

Sarah did not disappoint. As the crowd was clearing from the work room when the shifts changed, Rumble found the insect standing before him, hands clasped tightly in front, gaze on the floor while sneaking peeks up at him when she thought he wasn't looking. The mech was reclined on a short, wide dividing wall that stretched between two pillars in the enormous work room, his back pressed against one of concrete structures. Pulling one of his cannons from its mount, he tossed it to the floor in front of her.

"It's jammed," he said simply.

She stared at the weapon as though it might bite her. "My Lord, I don't know anything about these things," she prostested, wringing her hands.

Rumble nudged the cannon toward her with his foot, "It's easy really. You just use those tiny little digits of yours to reach inside the chamber and dislodge the casing. Nothing to it."

Her eyes flicked up toward his face before snapping back to the weapon at her feet. Losing his patience, the tape mech kicked the cannon into her legs hard enough to make her stumble and curse.

"My brother is really good at this kind of thing, actually—"

"This," he held the music player in her line of vision, "wasn't your brother's. You owe me." He waved at the cannon, "Fix it."

"I… I really don't—" her words cut off when the Con drew his arm up for a backhanded swing. She dropped to her knees on the floor and began searching for a way to open the chamber of the weapon.

Rumble watched her for a moment before giving her a clue, "Pull the slide back."

Her eyes flicked up before she blinked them back down again. He cocked his head, she was really struggling with not looking him directly in the face. It was kinda funny to watch her catch herself and force her gaze back down. Finding the slide on the side of the rifle, she tugged first with one hand then with both, finally using her feet to brace against the back of the grip while struggling to lock the slide to the rear. As soon as she heard the soft click of success, she collapsed onto her rear on the floor with a gust of exhaled air. The Con's smirk widened. Now comes the really fun part. He had intentionally caused the casing to jam inside the chamber and it was cocked in there pretty hard. Not to mention the plasma residue inside the chamber would burn if she touched it.

The insect studied the open chamber briefly before striding to one of the workbenches. She picked up a pair of long metal shears and proceeded back to the weapon on the floor. To his surprise, she wedged the shears into the chamber at just the right angle underneath one end of the stuck casing and gave it a quick, hard yank. With a metallic ping, the casing popped out and clattered on the floor next to her. He stared. Clever little imp.

It was at this point the the possibilities opened up the the mech's CPU, but he would need to put her to one more test.

~U~

Upon arrival after the next work cycle, Rumble held out a datapad. It showed details of a specific datachip he was particularly desirous of. She studied the diagram and asked one question. "Where is it?"

"The medbay," he grinned. Hook does not like the insects. He absolutely would not allow one to just walk in and take this coveted datachip. Ravage, with all his stealth technology, could not achieve this goal—not in Hook's medbay, that is.

"And you want this as soon as I get it or do you want me to bring it to you tomorrow?"

The Decepticon leaned into her personal space, "What do you think?"

She nodded and imediately departed. Rumble folded his arms across his chest, his face plates displaying a smug smirk. This would end one of two ways: Either she would no longer be his—or anyone's—problem, or he would get his prize. It was a win-win.

When the human female trotted up to him a while later, he scanned her expecting to discover her failure. But she had the chip, snuggly pressed into her shirt. Along with a few other items of contraband. The tape mech held out his hand, allowing her to place the datachip in his palm. Holding it up to the light, he smiled appreciatively. Finally. But there was another matter at hand that must be addressed immediately. This little imp thought she was pulling a fast one on him. He needed to assure her that it would not be tolerated. Subspacing the chip, he held his hand out once more, giving his fingertips a give-it-over twitch.

She stared at his hand, her eyes slightly widening. "You only asked for the chip, my Lord."

"Right. But that's not all you lifted from Hook, now, is it?"

A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth as her eyes flicked up toward his face and back down to the outstretched palm.

"Before I frag you and smear your tiny little body all over this room."

She exhaled loudly and pulled two flat, rectangular, plastic boxes from her shirt, and with much reluctance, placed them on his palm. Rumble curled his fingers around the small cases, nearly pinching her hand in the process. "Why?" He didn't really care about the why, he just wanted to watch her squirm and make up excuses. This was the fun part.

"They're two of my favorite movies," her head hung low. "I don't have any way of watching them, but I just couldn't bear to let them be destroyed. I found them in the contraband pile that Lord Hook had waiting to be incinerated."

Movies. Visual entertainment that the fleshbags engaged in pre-Decepticon rule. Curious what could be worth the monumental risk she had taken, he examined the cases. "These are about aliens that kill humans." He peered at the girl. "You don't get enough of that already?"

She snickered. "Those aliens died in the end." She glanced upwards, not quite meeting his gaze and quickly amended, "They weren't Decepticons, obviously."

"I doubt that your kind could have conceived of a conquering force like us," he sneered. "We rule the galaxy, after all!"

She nodded silently, keeping her gaze low. "Are… are you going to give them back to Lord Hook?"

"And tip him off that I've got this?" he held up the datachip. Shaking his head, "No way! Listen," he lowered his tone conspiritorially, "I've got an idea. I need you to box up a fire ant nest. Actually, as many as you can find. I need a lot of ants!"

She blanched. "Ants?"

"Yeah. Ants." His optics narrowed with mischief over his wide grin. "Lots of them."

"May I ask why?"

"You'll see. Just bring them to me after your next work cycle." Nodding slowly, she turned to go, but a question tugged at Rumble's thoughts. "Hey," he held his hand out to stop her retreat. "How did you get into the medbay without Hook slagging your aft?"

Jerking her thumb over her shoulder, she answered, "My brother." He shifted his weight, waiting for a further explanation. "Mikey works for Lord Hook in the medbay. He builds circuit cards for him."

"That doesn't explain how you got in there."

She sighed, "I have to bring Mikey in and take him home everyday."

"He can't do it by himself?"

"No."

"Is he malfunctioning?"

"Kinda. I guess. He has autism. He gets freaked out by changes and stuff. So, I make sure he gets everything he needs to stay… functional."

"If he's malfunctioning, he should be terminated."

Sarah cringed, swallowed hard and lifted her gaze to the Decepticon's chest armor. "For a human, he's brilliant at building Lord Hook's circuit cards. He does it exactly the way Lord Hook wants it done. His autism makes him very… um… particular. Lord Hook likes how meticulous, my brother can be."

"Oh." A fleshy that can be as obessive as Hook. It figures. No other Cybertronian could be that OCD.

~M~

Sarah balanced on an overhang, waiting. A small comminication device rested on her shoulder, clipped to the collar of her shirt. "Not yet. Wait for it. 'S gotta be timed just right…" came the tense voice of the Decepticon tape. In her hands, she clutched a large glass jug, which would have been filled with sun tea at any other time, but was currently filled with three fire ant nests engaged in a vicious battle of dominance. Sarah, herself, was covered head to toe in small welts.

"What, exactly, am I waiting for, Lord Rumble?"

"Dirge."

"The Seeker?" she whispered hoarsely. From his vantage point, he could clearly see her eyes widened with alarm as she shifted further back into the shadows.

"The Conehead."

"Whatever you want to call him—are you serious?"

"Yes. I. Am."

"Let me guess: You want me to drop this jug of ants on Lord Dirge's head."

"On his big, fat, conehead!"

"I'm so dead."

"You'll be fine."

"I'll be dead."

"Yeah. Probably. But it'll sure be funny."

"I'm so glad my death will amuse you."

"He'll only kill you if he sees you. Keep yourself hidden and you'll be okay." There was a definite thread of annoyance in the mech's voice. Didn't she realize how funny this was going to be? It would be so worth it! And if the flier slagged a human insect—so what? They were expendable anyway.

"I have a better idea."

"I doubt it."

"There's a cleaning service that is comprised of humans. They go through all the Decepticon's quarters, right?"

"So what?"

"They clean Lord Dirge's quarters too, right?"

"Yeah. Again, so what?"

"Lord Rumbe, can you get me on that cleaning detail for a day?"

"Why do you wanna clean quarters? Those humans don't get treated very well. I almost feel sorry for them sometimes. Especially the ones that have to service the Seekers' quarters."

"Think about it, Lord Rumble. If I can get into Lord Dirge's quarters, I can dump the ants in his berth!"

A slow, devious smile spread across the tape mech's face. "I like the way you think."