Bureaucracy

Note: this bit of nonsense takes place after the 2007 Transformers movie, which shows Lennox's title as "captain". When the Autobots have conversation in italics, that is through an internal link, and therefore not heard by the humans present.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, which is probably good, since I don't have any energon for them. I wonder if they'd eat cookies. Besides, how would I ever fit them in my condo?

Thank you to my beta, elarielf, for the feedback and the ice cream. Big hugs to you!

A week later…

Man, this feels familiar, Lennox thought. Once again, as he walked into the Autobots' hangar, his men had quickly formed ranks, with the Autobots standing behind them, even before the hangar doors had completely closed behind him. Once again, everyone was anxious to find out what would happen next.

"Alright, everyone. I'd like to introduce you to Major Beauport. The major has been sent by Washington to administer the driving test to our Autobot friends. I expect everyone to give her their full cooperation." As he spoke, a pale woman with sort red hair and a no-nonsense expression stepped forward. Her cold, grey eyes surveyed the Autobots impassively.

Approximate age: mid-thirties, Ratchet dutifully informed his comrades via a shared link. Height is markedly above average for a human female. Posture and musculature tone suggest she is athletic, appears to be slightly above normal muscle density for a human female. Probably due to rigorous military training. Heart rate, breathing and pupil dilation suggest that she is agitated…

That's just great, Ironhide's link cut in. Our 'instructor' is in a bad mood… Bumblebee slumped slightly at the news.

…unable to determine why. There appears to be no physical or hormonal reason to explain this mood, Ratchet finished, ignoring the miffed weapons specialist.

Optimus took this all in stride. Very well, thank you for the information. Unfounded speculations will not help matters, so everyone stay calm. Above all, do nothing that would further upset Major Beauport. It would not help our cause.

During this silent exchange, the major was consulting her clipboard. "Alright, as you know, the Government of Nevada has already administered the written portion of the test online, a special dispensation for the Autobots, as physically writing the test would be impractical for them." Guessing they couldn't find big enough pencils, Ironhide sneered. "Therefore, only the skills tests will be administered today. They will be as follows: one Class A license with Endorsement J for the Autobot Optimus Prime, one Class C Endorsement R for the Autobot Ironhide, two Class C, no endorsements, for the Autobots Bumblebee and Ratchet. If you wish me to test for any other endorsements, please say so now." She looked up again with a serious look on her face.

"That should be sufficient, thank you," Prime assured her. "And I would like to take the test first, if that is alright."

The woman shrugged, her expression indifferent. "As you wish," she allowed. As the mech transformed to his truck form, the major shuffled through a series of folders, removing one and placing it at the front of the pile.

Lennox took the opportunity to step in. "You'll find, Major Beauport, that the Autobots are all excellent drivers, excellent soldiers. My men can all vouch for that." He received a steely gaze in return.

"That would be helpful if character references were permitted in lieu of a test," she informed him. With that, she strode purposefully towards the waiting Prime. After heaving herself into the passenger seat and readying her papers, the Autobot headed out of the barracks to begin his test.

After a few moments of silence, enough to ensure that the pair were safely out of hearing range, Bumblebee let out a series of sad, concerned chirps.

"That woman is cold," Epps commented. Lennox shot him an look of exasperated understanding. "What's her problem, anyways?"

"Harrumph… who knows," Ratchet complained, turning away. "I'm going to do inventory. Come on, Bumblebee," he said kindly. "I need help, you need a distraction, and Ironhide's too busy caressing his cannons to be of any use…"

"Hush, I'm thinking," the black mech growled. Will looked up, way up, at his new friend with a worried look on his face.

"'Hide…" he said with growing concern.

The Autobot waved a large hand. "Oh, relax, I'm not going to shoot anyone. But if she wants to see driving, I'll show her driving…" he trailed off menacingly.

"Oh, Primus, help us. You'd better take your test last." Ratchet muttered from across the room. Lennox just shook his head, already knowing his new friend well enough to keep from arguing.

Soldiers milled about the room, having long gotten back to their duties. Optimus had long since returned and had, naturally, passed with flying colours. His and Ironhide's tests had taken the longest, seeing as Major Beauport also had to test for endorsements that would license them both to haul heavy loads. The Prime was currently scowling at his old friend, unpleased with what the major had to report. However, he waited until she left with Bumblebee before admonishing the old mech.

"Oh, come on," Ironhide complained. "In the end, she didn't fail me, and that's what matters."

"You were lucky," Prime rumbled. "Major Beauport conceded that she technically couldn't fail you. Another instructor may not have been as fair. Sharp accelerations, sharp stops, racing through the pylons…"

"I didn't hit any pylons."

"Nevertheless, she would have been in her rights to fail you for your rash driving." Ironhide simply waved his hand dismissively.

"I liked the part where she stepped out of the passenger side and said it reminded her of how her grandfather drove," Ratchet chuckled. The black mech grumbled in annoyance. Even Optimus couldn't conceal his amusement as his blue opticals glowed brighter.

"I passed with the same marks you did, Ratchet, only I wasn't such a suck-up about the entire thing…" Many of the humans in the room grinned as they sensed another round of baiting and taunting starting up between the two mechs.

Prime retreated to a corner again, making the excuse of wanting to check on intelligence reports of suspected Decepticon activity. The truth was, he wanted to take the time to reflect on how the youngest Autobot may be doing. Bumblebee had been exceedingly worried about the entire ordeal, and was still blaming himself for what happened in Nevada. And everyone's assurances that this was not his fault, that the American government may have eventually made them take drivers tests anyways, did not help to calm the worried mech. Prime sighed softly.

Ratchet had been kind enough to distract the young scout while he waited to take his test, the more experienced medic taking the time to give his young friend a morale boost. Optimus had great faith in the scout's abilities, but feared that his nerves may get the best of him. How odd, that a simple driving test got them all more worked up than a Decepticon attack usually did…

Bumblebee returned a half-hour later, slowly, cautiously pulling into the hangar. As Major Beauport exited his vehicle form, the soldiers and Autobots gathered around once again to hear the final results. The woman's face was set in hard lines. Bumblebee transformed to his natural form, his head bowed and shoulders slumped, giving the Autobots the only answer they needed.

Oh, no, tell me it's not true… Ironhide groaned.

See, you made her angry, Ironhide. I knew you should have taken the test last! Ratchet turned his back to the black mech. Don't worry, Bumblebee, we'll get this resolved.

Optimus shook his head. He will just have to wait to retake the test. Bumblebee churred unhappily. Major Lennox stepped forward, unaware of the silent conference going on between the Autobots, but reading their body language clearly.

"Major, was there a problem with Bumblebee's test?" he asked cautiously. The woman stretched her arms above her head, stiff from such long periods of driving.

"Consistent failure to use turn signals to indicate the driver's intentions," she stated curtly. "And could I trouble someone for a cup of coffee? Black, please." Captain Lennox nodded to one of the officers, who strode away to fulfill the major's request. "Had it not been for that, Bumblebee would have done quite well on his test. Unfortunately, he will not be able to retest until the designated waiting period has lapsed. I will have to arrange another flight out here to do the retest."

Soldiers bit back noises of disapproval, the Autobots grumbled through a shared link, Bumblebee managed to lower his head even lower in shame.

This is just too much, Lennox frowned, stepping forward. The woman had her back turned to him, folders organised in piles on a table in front of her, and was setting down the cup of coffee she had just been handed. "Major, if it really is going to be such an imposition of your time, you can always request that Washington send another instructor next time," he said harshly. Major Beauport's body stiffened, her grey eyes narrowing dangerously as she slowly turned to face him.

"I'll overlook the fact that your comment borders on insubordination, Captain," she ground out. "Bear in mind that I am here under my superior's orders, under your superiors orders. I'm not expecting you to like it. Frankly, I don't care if you do."

"Captain Lennox," Prime stepped forward. "This is not necessary. Major, we thank you for coming out here today, and will ensure that Bumblebee is prepared to retake his test at your convenience."

"Maybe when you're in a better mood," Ironhide grumbled softly. Eyes snapped towards the old mech in shock, Prime let out a growl of disapproval. The major snapped up a pile of folders and stalked towards the black mech, her eyes flashing furiously.

"Mood? What the hell does my mood have to do with any of this? I confess that I'm not happy to be here, but do you honestly think I would purposely fail someone because of that?" Lennox wasn't sure if he should admire the woman for her nerve or worry about her mental state for trying to menace a giant robot. Either way, he wasn't about to get between her and Ironhide.

"Major, Ironhide does not speak for all of us," Optimus assured her while glaring at his weapons specialist.

"Duly noted," she snapped. "But get one thing straight, my mood has nothing to do with the results of anyone's test. Damned straight, I resent being sent here as much as you resent having me here. Do you know what it's like being flown out to Washington, given high priority security clearance, and then told that it's my job to meet an alien life form and administer a goddamned driver's test? Do you have any idea how idiotic this entire thing makes me feel? 'Hi, welcome to Earth! I know that you're an advanced species with technological capabilities well beyond our own, but I'm here to make sure you know how to drive!'" Major Beauport stopped abruptly, closing her eyes and taking a deep, calming breath.

"Damn, we just figured you didn't like the Autobots," Epps stated. Major Beauport chuckled, a wry smile forming on her lips.

"No, Lieutenant, I don't like being made to feel like an idiot because of other people's decisions," she clarified. "Under different circumstances, I would be glad to meet them, really. But right now, I'm pissed off about this situation. The whole thing is just utterly…" she threw up her hands in frustration.

"Ridiculous and insulting," Ratchet finished for her.

"Exactly," Beauport affirmed as she headed back to the table. "Being asked to make mechanical beings prove that they can move around on our streets…" she trailed off in disbelief, then picked up her cup of coffee. Then her features wrinkled in a look of disgust that had nothing to do with her beverage. "And on top if it all, I have to fail Bumblebee for not using signals. I know full well that he was just nervous and forgot to use them! Hell, if you asked me to signal every time I walked, I would fail a damned test, too. And worst of all most drivers don't even bother to use their signals after they get their license. The whole thing is just…" she slammed her full cup coffee down on the table, upsetting the cup and spilling liquid all over the surface and on the sole file that lay there.

"Damn!" she exclaimed, looking down at the mess and hastily placing the remaining folders on a dry surface far from the spill. A couple of soldiers hurried forward to grab cloths and clean up the mess. "Damn!" Beauport repeated, picking up the dripping file. "There's no way I can submit this to Washington… it's a mess, look at it," she exclaimed, wiping at the papers and smearing the ink even further. "I apologise, someone is going to have to retake their test. Let me see…" she squinted at the stained, smeared and soggy papers, trying in vain to read the name on the file. Abandoning her quest, she turned to the three folders that had escaped unscathed.

Lennox eyed her closely, a look of curiosity and suspicion on his face. She didn't leave that one file on the table on purpose… did she? he wondered.

"Let me see… we have here Optimus Prime," she said, looking through folders. "Ironhide's results are here… and there are Ratchet's results…" her voice trailed off. Bumblebee let out a questioning chirp and looked at her hopefully, cocking his head. "I apologise, Bumblebee, but I can't submit paperwork like this. It's completely illegible now. Would you feel up to taking the test again so soon or would you rather wait the standard retest period?" Bumblebee trilled happily.

"What, you couldn't have doused mine too and destroyed the 'drives like your grandfather' comment?" Ironhide complained, his arms crossed defensively. The redhead let out a chuckle, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I never put that in your file, and I said it reminded me of driving with him," she looked up at the black mech. "Grandpa was a race car driver, and a damned good one at that. Heck, he started driving in Nascar just a few years after it was formed." Major Beauport got a far away look in her eyes. "I remember visiting Grandma and Grandpa in Tennessee some summers… he and I used to sneak out of the house while Grandma was asleep, we'd hop in one of his cars and go for a spin down the country roads, he'd pretend that we were on one of the racetracks together. It's a damned good thing that he never got arrested during one of our trips… Mom and Grandma would have killed him if they ever found out."

Ironhide relaxed his stance, humming thoughtfully. "Fine, it doesn't sound so bad when you put it like that. Honestly, I was just trying to shake you up a bit," he confessed.

"You'll have to try harder next time," she challenged with a wink. "Now, Bumblebee," Beauport continued, tapping his foot to get his attention. "Turn signals, hun, because this is my last testing folder. We don't want to get coffee on this one." The yellow Autobot stood to attention and saluted, chirping enthusiastically. "Do you need time to review the rules on using them?" she asked tentatively.

The yellow mech sighed, slumping his shoulders, and shook his head. "Alright," the woman put up her hands. "I just wanted to check. Let's take a spin, shall we?" She patted his foot companionably. Bumblebee transformed into a pristine Camero, holding the passenger door open wide. Major Beauport laid her hands on the frame, preparing to get in, and then paused with a conspiratorial look on her face. "By the way, can we not tell people about the whole coffee incident? I am usually quite fastidious with my paperwork, and I cannot believe I was that clumsy. It's really quite embarrassing…"

"Yes, ma'am", Lennox assured her, looking back to his soldiers and noting their nods of agreement.

"Our secret," Optimus vowed, his baritone voice serious despite the amused glint in his eyes. The major looked up at him, winked, and entered the waiting Camero. "Hmm…" he mused softly after they had departed. Lennox looked up at him questioningly.

"More than meets the eye, indeed," the Prime observed thoughtfully.

Author's Note: Yes, Bumblebee passes his test the second time around. I'm not THAT cruel.