"Alright, the ghost's clear, come on." whispered Damian, motioning over his shoulder.

Kirin followed close behind, looking over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure they weren't being followed. "Clear back he-!." She quickly pulled her brother into an alley, both pressed up against the alley's brick wall as a red Charger drove by. When the car passed, Kirin let out a breath of relief she hadn't realized she was holding in. "That was close," she whispered.

Damian just nodded his head, and they continued down the block a ways, until he stopped again.

"What's wrong, Ian? Cops?"

Damian shook his head. Kirin peered past her brother's shoulder to see what he was staring at. Her eyes widened in shock and her blood felt like ice at what she saw. Straight ahead, in the shadows of an alley a little ways up the road, was the blood-red Charger that had passed them just a few minutes ago. The car's lights were off and the engine was dead.

Damian stepped back to stand beside her. "Do you think the driver's in the car?"

Kirin shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't hear any doors closing." She looked at her brother, then said, "Do you want to risk it, or do you want to head back home?" She hoped he would pick the latter.

Damian shook his head. "The driver's probably not even in the car - lets risk it." Then took off down the street.

Kirin mentally groaned. Of course, she thought, and walked after her bullheaded brother. She made a mental note to take a page from her mom's book, and beat her brother with a frying pan (not violently, though) when they both got home - even though such an action was deemed illogical in her mind. But, it'd be worth it.

-&#$-

It didn't take long to find the race track. It was an forest road leading out of town. Several cars and a dozen spectators were already there, and one or two of the spectators, Kirin noticed, were undercover cops. It was easy to tell by the way they carried themselves and their eyes: confident, slightly arrogant, nervous free, alert, and searching. Also, one of made the mistake of reaching for their sidearm that wasn't there when someone tapped on their shoulder, and made it look like they were reaching for their phone. Kirin and Damian took places a few feet from the finish line; Kirin was leaning against the trunk of a tree, and Damian was sitting on the ground nearby - both kept an eye on the cops present.

"So, the cops decided to come and play," hummed Damian. "should be interesting if they decide to make a move tonight."

Kirin nodded, then said, "Did you scope out the competition?"

"Don't I always?" he chimed, then pointed to a dark red Aston Martin. "That Aston Martin biggest has a pretty big chance of winning," He then motioned to a black muscle car next to the Martin. "But that muscle car also has a good chance - the rest are as good as scrap metal."

Kirin looked at the Martin, and felt a chill run down her spine. She narrowed her eyes at the car, something wasn't right. Leaving the tree cover, Kirin sat down an six and a-half feet away from the road.

The race started with a loud whistle, and the drivers tore off down the road.

Suddenly, Damian shouted, "KIRIN!" Before Kirin could respond, she was pulled backwards sharply by the collar of her shirt, landing right beside Damian.

"He was almost hit you! I AM GOING TO KILL THAT GUY!" snarled Damian, jumping to his feet.

Kirin sat up slowly. "Who?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"The owner of that freaking muscle car!" hissed Damian, plopping down on the grass next to her. He then began checking her over for injuries. "You hurting anywhere?" he asked, looking at her neck.

Kirin shook her head. "No, I'm OK."

"I'm going to kill to kill him, Rin," said Damian, looking down at his hands. "Nobody attempts to hit my sister and gets away with it."

Blinking again, Kirin gave her brother a small smile, and pressed their foreheads together, closing her eyes. "Don't bother, Ian, he isn't worth it," she said, pulling away and looking him in the eye. "Besides, after that, I want to go home."

Damian smiled back at her and rose to his feet, then helped Kirin onto hers. "Lets go home, Rin."

Cliffjumper made a mental note to never again power down momentarily in an alley while on patrol ever again. Because where did it get him? Spray painted by a bunch of trouble-making kids!

This is probably that karma Arcee said I had coming, he thought begrudgingly. Cliffjumper hated it when his friend was right about these things. And all he did was toy around with the police where ever he went, and whenever he got back to Jasper (even though it got him a lash from Ratchet and a lecture from Optimus every time). Cliffjumper's thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he saw two small figures walking his way. Quickly transforming, he backed up slightly in the alley he was occupying, and hoped they wouldn't see him. Bad enough he got laughed at by the kids that defaced his alt. mode and not being allowed to do anything about it, he didn't need to be laughed at by two more. Unfortunately, they did see him, but when they saw the graffiti paint all over him, they didn't laugh like he expected them to. Instead, they just shook their heads and whispered somethings to each other too soft for his audio receptors to pick up. Then, the two of them immediately took off down the block after hearing the tell-tale sounds of police sirens, leaving Cliffjumper alone.

Pulling out of the ally a ways, Cliffjumper watched as the kids rounded a street corner, and disappeared from sight. That was fast, he thought, pulling the rest of the way out of the ally. He was almost tempted to follow the kids - almost - but decided against it and took off in the opposite direction. Looking at his chronometer, Cliffjumper groaned. It was late, really late. Then he checked his comm. link, and groaned, again. Several missed calls from Arcee, Ratchet and Prime. They were going to chew him up when he got back.

Bye, bye freedom.