Thank you for all your reviews, favorites, and follows! They make my day!

Thanks to LadyAnatar for betaing.

Chapter 3

In Which the Cat is Let Out of the Bag and Optimus Visits Ratchet

The Storage Decks, the Prime discovered, were very plain and normal. A network of wide halls with wide, tall doors spaced evenly along the walls. Said walls were also nondescript, plain gray metal with the occasional dent or scrape. The floors were a thick sheet-metal worn smooth (though not slippery) with the passing of many pedes.

Prowl led them along the halls, never once having to refer to the digital map or locator available to any Autobot on base. He knew these halls without it. Every door he passed was given a name, telling the Prime and his guards what was behind the doors.

"Medical supplies, medical supplies, wire and rope, lights, cleaning supplies, the 'secret' bar where the Twins hand out their homebrew high-grade, which is officially a spare furniture storage room, Room Beta-13 – do not go in there. Ever. Lights, spare monitors and capacitors, energon-"

"What do you mean, do not go in Room Beta-13?"

Prowl paused for a moment, blinking over his shoulder, his face blank. "Do not go in it. Just... never go in there. As I was saying," he continued, as though he hadn't been interrupted, "this room stores energon rations for long-distance missions. This is more cleaning supplies, and here's where the paint is kept," he kept going, every door getting a designation. The Prime followed along, mostly dazed, still puzzling over Room Beta-13.

Eventually, after two joors of Prowl naming doors and leading them through the maze of corridors, they headed back to the entrance.

Prowl was asking whether or not the Prime found the Storage Decks to be satisfactory when there was a low, quiet creak of straining metal above them. Prowl interrupted himself and looked up, a slightly confused expression spreading over his face.

There was a loud, feline yowl, and klaxons blared to life. Red Alert's voice echoed through the base. "Red alert! Red alert! Decepticon spark signature detected above Storage Deck C!"

"That's where we are," Ironhide murmured after checking the map. He turned to Prowl, only to see the Autobot already with a gun out (and the guard couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the multi-purpose rifle, at the moment equipped with acid pellets) and pointed at the ceiling. The tactician tightened his finger, and a barrage of pellets slammed into the ceiling above them before anyone else could even pull out or activate their weapons.

The already stressed metal gave way beneath a black felinoid creature. It snarled and lashed out with its sharp, gleaming claws, catching hold of the Prime's audio fin. The Prime jerked, optics opening comically wide, as the cat heaved itself onto his helmet, hissing and spitting and swiping at anyone who dared to get close. The three guards that followed the Prime everywhere shifted nervously, guns ready, but unable to fire on the black felinoid, lest they blow their commander's helm off his shoulders.

Another, golden colored felinoid peered over the edge of the hole in the ceiling, head cocked to the side, blue optics wide and amused.

Prowl, however, was not amused. "Steeljaw! Get it!"

The gold cat blinked, smiled, and lunged with a yowl, knocking the black felinoid off the Prime's helmet, leaving behind a number of nasty scrapes, which were slowly trickling energon. The two cats fell into a roiling, yowling scramble on the floor, swiping at each other, hissing, spitting, and generally acting like cats who had invaded the other's territory. Prowl sighed and activated his comm., tapping into the basewide public channel.

::Everyone, the Decepticon infiltrator has been located. Red Alert, please send a couple mechs down here to subdue him. Someone please get down to the brig for guard duty. Ratchet, the Prime sustained minor injuries. Please prepare the Med Bay. Prowl out.::

The Praxian nodded to the Prime. "It is taken care of," he said as he stepped over the squabbling cats. "Let's get you to the Med Bay."

The Prime and his guards only followed, slightly shell shocked, as they left the yowling cats behind. A few mechs ran past them in the other direction, but they didn't slow. The hallways passed same as before, nondescript and quickly.

Until they came to the medic's domain. Someone had taken the time to scratch the glyphs, "Enter at your own risk" above the door. On the door, painted rather sloppily, in a scrawled, jagged hand, were the glyphs, "Unless you're dying or your spark's about to go out, STAY OUT!"

The visitors stared for a long time at the two messages. Prowl waited patiently, optic ridge cocked in amusement.

To the surprise of all (except, perhaps, Prowl), the door whooshed open. "Well?" The half-chartreuse, half-red-and-white mech said gruffly as he stood, fists on hips, a scowl on his face, and a wet cleaning cloth clenched in one hand. "Why are you just standing around? I haven't got all orn. Get in here."

The medic stepped aside, allowing the group to enter his lair. Prowl entered slowly, stepping off to the side as soon as he was past the threshold. Ironhide and the guards did so as well, following the base commander's lead. The Prime, however, was not so lucky. Ratchet gestured him to a berth, and he went, albeit reluctantly and cautiously.

Ratchet immediately set to examining the obvious wounds on his helm, scowling and cursing under his exvents, muttering something about "that pit-slagged cyber-pussy and his lack of common sense."

Once the gashes had been sealed up, Optimus Prime made to get off the berth, but Ratchet pushed him back down, his scowl deepening.

"Oh, no you don't. Prime you may be, but this is my Med Bay, and to release you, I've got to do a full physical to ensure your health. So you sit your slagging aft back down and hold still."

The Prime did as told, torn between bafflement, amusement, and frustration. But he still held still, patiently allowing the medic his examination.

After half a joor of mumbled curses, pokes in uncomfortable places, and dark scowls, the Prime was allowed up. Prowl and the guards waited at the door as Optimus stood, then stopped for a long moment, surprised, before turning to the medic.

"Thank you. Whatever you did, thank you."

Ratchet looked positively confused. "What?"

"My knee. It does not hurt anymore."

"Oh. You had a bit of grit in there. I just cleaned it out. I don't know why you didn't have it done before."

"'Cause he's a self-sacrificing glitch who don't know when t' see someone about a problem," Ironhide grumbled as Optimus continued to the door after thanking the medic again. Prowl ignored it, and led them from the room.

The four mechs followed easily. Ironhide cast a glance at the messages painted and scratched above and on the medic's door. "I don't see why those are there."

Prowl simply looked at the messages and continued on. "If you are staying for any length of time, you will," he said simply, then glanced at the visiting Autobot Commander. "It is getting late, Prime. I have quarters set for you and your guards. We shall recharge, and continue the tour and inspection tomorrow, if that is okay with you."

"It is fine. I will admit, I am exhausted. What is on the schedule for tomorrow?"

"Drilling, formations, the basic examinations of the troops."

"Sounds wonderful."

Prowl scowled, but the mechs following him could not see the expression. "You have no idea."