...okay, so I tried to do a thing where the dialogue for any of the Transformers when speaking in the various Cybertronian languages was demarcated with the little fancy brackets so hopefully that actually comes through...

ALSO. There's really no reason that mechs back on Cybertron would know that their organic pets are called "humans". Mostly because, well, "human" is a human word for ourselves. Whiiiiiich would count as a sign of sentience, our knowing and providing the label of our entire species. And it's not known that humans are sentient. Thus... mechs don't call us humans. Yet? I dunno. I'm thinking about this way harder than I probably should be, ahahaha. It's a fic, not a dissertation.

Also. Uh. I'm... not dead? Oh lord, I am so sorry to anyone who picked this up when I started writing... But, now the Autobots are introduced!

A lie cannot live. – Martin Luther King, Jr.

Optimus stared bemusedly down at his scout, who was hiding something behind his back, optics glittering with a happy mischief.

{Bumblebee,} the Prime rumbled, {what exactly have you got there?}

The yellow scout mech chirped excitedly, optics brightening, {A surprise!}

{A surprise?} Optimus repeated, raising one optic ridge.

{Yes,} the scout said. He brought carefully his hands from his back, revealing the carrier he held. {Organics!}

{Say what?} called Ratchet from across the room, looking up from the text he'd been downloading.

{Organics. The new bipedal ones,} Bumblebee repeated with a chirp, holding up the carrier.

{Organics? As in, more than one?} Ratchet asked with a rise of his optic ridges. Bumblebee ducked his head in slight embarrassment, though he made sure not to jostle the carrier.

{I did not want to break them up,} the scout mech admitted. {I was not sure if they were a tri-unit, and I did not wish to err.}

{How many did you end up with?} Optimus asked, eyeing the carrier with no little curiosity. There hadn't been much that interested the yellow mech except scouting – until these bipedal organic creatures.

{Er, three.}

{Three?} half-bellowed Ratchet. Noise came from the carrier that sounded like raised voices.

{They acted like a triad,} Bumblebee said in his defense, hugging the carrier close. {And do not yell – you will upset and frighten them!}

Ratchet shrugged in a silent apology.

{May we see them?} Optimus asked. He had yet to see a bipedal organic, himself. His duties kept him far too busy to go out with no particular purpose than to find a pet.

Bumblebee nodded, and moved towards the nearest clear table. He set the carrier down gently, clicking at the organic creatures in what he hoped was a comforting manner as he reached for the locks at the top of the carrier. It had a removable top in addition to the traditional 'door', which made for easier – and safer – loading. The bipedal organics were small, yes, but not terribly tiny. And they were so fragile, with their soft flesh, that being able to gently lower them into the carriers was generally preferred to pushing them in through the carrier door.

Bumblebee flicked the locks open, and slowly removed the top as he motioned for Optimus Prime and Ratchet to come closer.

{See?} Bumblebee said, pointing at the three. {They act like a triad. Or at least some kind of familial unit. See how the one femme clings to the male as they both sit, and the other femme is standing in front of them?}

{Indeed,} Optimus murmured. {How will you care for them, Bumblebee? You have duties of your own to attend to, and adding in three organics may be more than even you are capable of.}

A pause. Then, {Permission to speak freely, sir?}

Optimus nodded.

{Sir, it is in my coding to observe. That is what I am programmed to do – scout, and observe. And I have discovered an inability to completely disregard my programming, even in civilian situations.}

{Bumblebee – }

{Sir. You do not say it, but I have seen it. You are… lonely.}

Optimus gazed at Bumblebee in silence, wondering again at the skill of this young scout – for even Optimus himself had not consciously recognized his loneliness for what it really was. Ratchet quietly busied himself elsewhere, even as he shamelessly listened in.

{And if I am, Bumblebee? I have responsibilities that do not necessarily allow for civilian leisures,} Optimus said gently. Bumblebee nodded.

{Yes, sir. But I would offer you a companion.}

{A companion?} Optimus repeated, interest flooding his circuits. The scout nodded again. {Bumblebee?}

{I truly was looking for an organic of my own,} Bumblebee said. {I was not sure how to pick the right one, but in the end, they appeared to choose me. And, as you say, three may be more than I can successfully provide for. Yet I could not find it in my processors to split them that finally, sir.}

{What does this have to do with me, Bumblebee?} Optimus asked, gently but firmly.

{They are triad of some kind, sir. But they do not appear to be a mated triad. It is clear that two of them are very much a pair, and as such…I have left her nameless, sir,} Bumblebee said simply, reaching into the carrier to lift out the femme standing before the pair. The two recoiled at first, but scrambled forward as Bumblebee lifted her. They clung to each other and stared upward, following the scout mech's hands with their gaze.

{You are giving me an organic?} Optimus said, flashing his optics twice in surprise.

{Yes.}

{Bumblebee,} the Prime sighed, even as he reached out to gently take the small creature from Bumblebee's hands and bring it up for a better view. The creature recoiled slightly as Optimus brought her close to his face, and so he lowered his hands, very much aware of the surprisingly heavy gaze trained on him from the tiny being in his hands.

{I had thought, sir, that since they are a triad, they could perhaps be housed here in the Unit's barracks,} Bumblebee continued. {I have no personal dwelling of my own, and will be here with my pair. You hardly use your personal dwelling, sir, and so they could remain in proximity to each other.}

{It seems you have thought this through,} Optimus murmured.

{It is simply another application of observation, tactics, and strategy, sir,} the yellow mech responded. His tone was deferential on the surface, but Optimus could hear the happy mischief bubbling beneath it.

{I suppose this will also give me a chance to run some tests,} Ratchet mused, reinserting himself into the conversation. Bumblebee's stabilizer flaps fluttered, and he narrowed his optics at the medic-mech.

{If you experiment on my organics…} He let his threat trail off. Ratchet grumbled out a gravelly laugh.

{Just basic health, spark-bot,} he said. {You want them to stay in good health, don't you?}

{Yes, of course.}

{Then let an old repair-mech do what he can.}

{Fine,} Bumblebee agreed.

Optimus gently lowered the organic femme back into the carrier with her companions. He watched them a moment as the two hurried over to her and wrapped their limbs about her, but mostly he was fascinated by the fact that her tiny optics never left his own. The weight of her gaze was truly impressive for a being so soft and small, and it left the Autobot leader wondering:

Was it truly possible for a non-sentient being to have a gaze that weighted?