AN: Wow, it's been a little while, hasn't it? Over a month, I almost couldn't believe it myself. I hit a horrendous writer's block with the first part, but once I was over the hump the rest came pretty quick, until I got to the end. I think I spent more time on this chapter than I did all the others, and I think it shows. Not only is it my longest chapter yet, we also learn something new about Mama O'Connell. I hope ya'll like it!

I'm also long overdue for admitting something else, which I realized recently and am embarrassed by. Remember Alicia Grit? She's an original character, but I got her last name, Grit, from another story, called "Paint Chips", over in the Transformers/Beast Wars section. The author, Ashana, has only written one chapter and hasn't picked it up since June, and it didn't occur to me to wonder if I should have asked for her permission to use the surname. It's an awesome beginning, so everyone go to her story and give her lots of reviews and love! Hopefully, she'll be inspired to pick it up again!

Disclaimer: If I owned Transformers, characters like Elita would get a lot more appreciation, Speaking of which, Elita's power-siphoning thing, I got from An Cailin Rua's story "Naturalized", a totally awesome movie-verse fic.

TPWIP is still inspired by Ray of Starlight's "Twin Times the Fun."


Ch. 9 – Dissemination of Information

"You stupid, short-sighted, moronic IMBICILE! Do you have any idea what you've DONE??"

"I can guess, but please, do tell anyway," came the dry reply.

"This isn't funny! Is this another joke of yours? A power trip? You don't even care how badly you've just screwed us over!"

"Look, I'm sorry I went behind your backs, but I can't just sit around and pretend nothing's wrong. I didn't use any names or anything, so if you don't want anyone to know that you, or anyone else, was there, fine. I'll take the fall, you don't have to worry."

"Very noble, Mike, but that's NOT what I'm talking about. Okay, I get you wanted to get this footage out for everyone to see, but YouTube? YouTube?? Nobody's going to believe anything they saw first on YOU-freaking-TUBE!!"

Clarisse and Kyle, rather than joining the battle and supporting their respective sides, wisely remained out of the fray and mostly acted as referees, just in case. The argument had been going on for nearly twenty minutes now, and neither combatant showed any signs of stopping. Far be it for them to interfere.

"I don't think I've ever seen Danny this mad before," Clarisse commented quietly to Kyle, her eyes fixated on a bulging vein on Danny's forehead.

"I think the only reason they haven't started punching yet is because they're best friends," Kyle whispered back, equally fascinated by the rare (albeit totally understandable) blowout. "Not sure how long that's going to hold out though."

Jaycee, meanwhile, had tuned them all out and was reading the comments left on the video in curiosity.

It was about eight in the evening, and everyone was gathered in the home office. The video had been discovered by Kyle a little while earlier, when he had decided to surf the internet to get his mind off the absolute insanity of the day for a few minutes. Needless to say, it hadn't worked out well.

"It was the fastest way to get the footage to as many people as possible," Mike was saying in his defense. "Even if no one believes it first off, if even one of those people sees either of those robots again, they'll know they're not crazy and they're not alone."

"Fat lot of good that'll do if they get hurt because they panic or decide to be stupid and get their own footage. That's why I wanted to use the *proper* channels: so that the people with the power and the tools could do something about this before innocent people got HURT!"

"I don't think we'll have to worry about people taking this seriously, anyway," Jaycee mentioned. "There're nearly a hundred comments already, and they all agree that the video is most likely clever marketing for a secret movie next year, kind of like what they did for 'Cloverfield.' See, one of the commenter's left a link to a discussion board already."

"Really?" Clarisse said, turning away from the show and leaning over Jaycee's shoulder. "Wow, it's only been a few hours. They work fast."

Jaycee clicked the link, and even Mike and Danny put their argument aside for the moment in favor of curiosity – the sort of curiosity that makes people want to slow down as they pass the scene of a car crash.

The discussion board site wasn't elaborate, just the bare bones, but there were several threads already, with titles like "Dissecting the Trailer," "Director and Actors/Actresses", "You Planning on Seeing It?", and the like, the most popular of which already had eight pages of comments. Clarisse read the thread title of that one out loud.

"'Female Robot Protagonist: Feminism or Sexism?'"

"I'm so glad that bona fide footage of violent alien robots can lead to such philosophical online debates instead of, you know, panic," Kyle deadpanned.

"That's a bit of an over simplification, don't you think?" Clarisse reprimanded gently, not taking her eyes off the screen.

Jaycee made a note of the website address to examine later at her leisure, and hit the back button so she could scan over the rest of the video comments (really, it's surprising the love/hate reactions the red robot was getting).

But instead of pulling up the video, all she got was the YouTube home page with a pink bar across the top and black words with an ominous message:

The video you are trying to find has been removed due to plagiarism.

"Say what?!" Mike exclaimed. "Plagiarism?? What the heck?"

Jaycee scooted out of the chair to let Mike take her place. Mike tried to log into his account, but instead received another message:

Your YouTube account has been frozen.

"Say WHAT?!"

"Didn't see that coming," Danny commented mildly.

"Anyone else gettin' a REALLY bad feeling about this?" Kyle asked. "I mean, c'mon, plagiarism? Even I think that's pretty weak."

The doorbell rang, and Jaycee took the opportunity to leave the room, since no one else had seemed to notice, too preoccupied with the lost footage and keeping Mike calm.

The bell rang incessantly, and Jaycee felt slightly annoyed by it. What, did they think the more she rang the faster she'd come? She wasn't a trained dog, thank you very much.

Jaycee opened the door and looked out…and up.

"Wow you're tall," was the first thing that popped of her mouth.

The man in the suit visibly preened.


Several minutes earlier

This wasn't the first time that Simmons had to seal a security leak, and it wasn't even his first time dealing with civilians in the process, even before Sector Seven had been dissolved. Finding the leak on YouTube? Well, that was a new one, though he had admit he'd been expecting something to happen like that since Mission City. Seriously, in an age with camera phones, disposable cameras, security cameras on store fronts and intersections, satellites, and what have you, it's amazing that all footage of the NBE's has remained contained for as long as it had.

Bad news: the NBE security had been compromised, and if it happened again it would be much harder to convince the public that there wasn't anything going on. There would forever be this chink in the wall because some kid was in the wrong place in the wrong time.

Simmons liked to think that, had Sector Seven not been dissolved, this wouldn't have happened.

But, there was some good news: the leak wasn't stuck on the roof this time.

Simmons pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial as the van pulled up the driveway. The phone only rang once before it was answered. Simmons didn't bother waiting for the person on the other end to say something.

"Leak's been located. Get the video down ASAP."

He snapped the phone shut and stepped out of the van.

The objective was simple: confiscate the original video and take the camera man into custody, along with anyone else in the residence. Lord knew that if the guy was willing to put the video on YouTube, chances are he's already shared it with his own family.

The door opened, and Simmons was mildly surprised to see a young girl, probably about nineteen or twenty, pretty in a plain sort of way. He'd been expecting a young man to match the voice over on the video.

The girl came to his chest, and she looked up at him. "Wow you're tall."

Simmons couldn't stop a little grin. "Evening miss. Is 'likemike18' here?"

The girl did a double take. "Likemike…Mike? Why? What do you want with Mike? Who are you?" she asked, starting to close the door a little as if it was a shield. Simmons wasn't having any of that.

He stuck his foot out to stop the door in place and whipped out his new badge. "We're with the government: Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency," he informed her briskly.

The girl's eyes widened at 'government.' She hadn't looked terribly strong before, but now she looked about ready to pass out. "Government…?"

"May we enter the premises, miss?"

Even as he asked, Simmons was pushing the door open and letting himself in. Jaycee was forced aside lest she be knocked down by the river of black suits suddenly flooding into the house. Jaycee looked completely helpless, wanting to say something but too intimidated to try.

Mike wasn't.

"What? What the hell are you people *doing* here?" he demanded, exiting the office with his friends behind them. The sudden noise had drawn them out, and the invasion wasn't doing anything for his temperament. "Get out of my house!"

*That must be him,* Simmons thought, giving the younger man a cursory look.

"Earlier today you posted a video of a couple of Non-Biological Extraterrestrials. We're here for the tape."

"They said they're with the government," Jaycee said quietly from behind Simmons, squeezing her fingers in anxiousness.

Mike and Danny stared blankly at him before they exchanged a look, as if asking 'is this going to be a good thing or a bad thing?'

"We'll also be needing you to come with us Mike."

Bad thing. Definitely, definitely a bad thing.

"Whoa! Nobody's going anywhere with anyone until you explain just what the hell you guys are doing here!" Clarisse interjected, bearing forward like an angry lioness, fists on her hips and glaring at Simmons. Kyle made frantic gestures for her to shut up and get back, but she ignored him. "Besides, until you show me a warrant, we don't *have* to give you anything."

"For the love of god, would you shut up already before you make this any worse?!" Kyle implored in a fierce whisper, feeling like the last voice of reason again. THIS was why he wanted to forget the whole thing! Why didn't anybody ever listen to the voice of reason?

"Got it."

Six heads (the Blue Car Crew and Simmons) turned at the voice, to see Duane coming down the stairs will a little black tape in gloved hand.

"Wha…you searched my room?!" Mike exclaimed, lunging forward. Danny and Kyle grabbed him before he could do anything stupid (like tackle a government agent to the ground), but Mike was still livid. "That's a violation of my constitutional rights! Where's your warrant?"

"Kid, you're constitutional rights went out the window the minute you became a threat to national security."

Mike mental processes skidded to a halt. "What?"

Simmons pulled out a plastic bag from a pocket inside his jacket and opened it with a flick of a wrist for Duane to drop the tape in. "Long story short son, you just jumped head first into a major government secret, and it's my job to stop you from doing anything stupid. Anything ELSE stupid," he corrected himself.

Duane took the bag, and Simmons spread his palms to the younger group with a smile. "I suggest you make this easier on yourselves and just come quietly. That goes for the rest of you too."

"They didn't do anything!" Mike exclaimed suddenly. "They weren't even there, I haven't even shown them the tape, they don't know anything!"

"Very noble of you son. They're still coming too."

Clarisse stepped up. "And if we don't?" she asked, crossing her arms and sounding belligerent to cover up just how nervous this whole affair was making her.

Simmons met her eyes evenly. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way means you and your buddies come along quietly. The hard way means I'll have to put you and all your buddies under arrest for treason," he told her coolly.

Clarisse squeaked. Kyle's mouth flapped open and closed as he made a choking sound, gesturing wildly.

"You guys just exposed a major government secret to the entire globe," Simmons said, in answer to the question Kyle couldn't choke out. "Trust me, you don't want to push your luck now."

Kyle swallowed.

The five friends were lead out of the house single file, each with an agent at their shoulder in case someone got the bright idea to make a break for it. Danny, last in line, paused in his step just inside the door and looked back over his shoulder at Simmons.

"Wait, 'government secret?' So you guys already knew about this? Just what's going on?"

"You don't get to ask the questions Sport. Besides, you're in enough hot water already. You really don't want to know more than you have to, not if you want to finish college."

Danny scurried out the door.

Behind Simmons, Agent Grit leaned over slightly to speak quietly to Duane. "He wouldn't really have them arrested for treason, would he? That's a little extreme, even for him."

"Doesn't really matter, since we can't MAKE arrests anyway," Duane answered, leaning back a little to respond. "Technically, we're not law enforcement. We can detain people, and we get a lot of leeway if there's a confirmed security risk, but we don't have the power to make formal arrests. But they don't know that."

Grit gave him a disapproving look. Duane shrugged. "Well, it works, doesn't it?"

As the parade of black vehicles pulled away from the suburban home, the five huddled together in the back of one of the SUV's, no one saying a word. Clarisse held Jaycee's hand on her right, Mike's on her left. Danny had his arms crossed and head lowered, deep in thought, while Kyle just looked out the tinted windows without seeing the view.

It felt like an eternity before someone broke the oppressive silence.

"Told you we should've kept quiet."

"Shut up Kyle."


8:00, that same night, near the Missouri-Kansas border

Aine had thought she was being optimistic when she guessed the trio would be able to get as far as Jefferson City, but by the time they finally had to stop they were nearly 150 miles past it. Elita had pushed herself for as long as she could, until her energy levels were falling into the red and she was forced to stop to refuel. There was a power plant nearby, where she planned to tap into the energy grid and siphon off enough electricity to get her by. Aine wasn't entirely comfortable with Elita essentially stealing energy from the plant and the nearby city, but as Nolan pointed out, desperate times called for desperate measures, and Elita didn't exactly have a smorgasbord of options here.

However, Elita was leery of having a pair of delicate humans in her interior while she was running a constant current of thousands of watts of pure electricity for an hour or two, so she dropped them off at the closest Maverick to wait. So while Elita went off to scavenge for her dinner, Nolan purchased a couple of sandwiches and Milk Jugs for himself and Aine.

Nolan and Aine opted to eat outside on the curb. It was a clear night, warm, and their slice of the world was sparsely populated. It was one of those areas made for people just passing through, located way out in the middle of nowhere, supported by a couple of gas stations, a handful of fast food restaurants, and one motel for drowsy drivers a little ways down the vast, empty road. Currently, the entire area was mostly deserted. The only car nearby belonged to guy working behind the counter.

The siblings sat with a couple of feet between them, eating in silence. The tension was thickening, had been thickening ever since their argument earlier that day. Both desired to be understood, but neither was sure how to broach the topic again in a non-confrontational manner. Nolan was leaning on one hand and swishing his Milk Jug bottle with the other, watching the remaining liquid splash and spin against the sides as if hypnotized. Aine pretended to examine her nails, occasionally tapping a foot in a nervous manner, trying to pry the right words from the depths of her mind.

Nolan beat her to the punch.

"Elita doesn't exactly need-need us to protect her, you know," Nolan started suddenly, not taking his eyes off his bottle. "I mean, she pretty much kicked Onslaughts ass while we hid in the bushes. She's not exactly helpless."

Aine shrugged, still picking at her fingernails.

"And Onslaughts really dangerous, but he only has eyes for Elita right now," he went on. "He doesn't care about hurting humans or collateral damage, or any of that. As long as we're with Elita, we're only going to be a…liability to her."

The word left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was the truth.

Aine continued to stare down in her lap.

Nolan scooted a little closer and put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "Look, I know you really like Elita. I do too. Frankly, I think meeting her was the best thing that ever happened to us. But we only signed on as guides. With Onslaught in the picture, it's too dangerous for us now. I'm sorry, but that's how it is."

Aine drew up her knees a little, dropped her shoulders a little, lowered her head a little, so that she curled up a little within herself and seemed to shrink right before Nolan's eyes, and she still wasn't saying anything or even looking at him. Her pigtails had fallen over her shoulders, obscuring most of her face, but he could make out the glistening corner of one eye. Nolan felt his gut twist in guilt, but he knew this had to be said and done. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"Elita and I, we both just want you to be safe. That's why we're doing this."

Aine was quiet for a long moment except for the occasional sniffle. With a deep breath she lifted her head and leaned back on her hands. She looked up at the sky, red and orange in the summer sunset. Already a few stars were peeking through, twinkling merrily. It was these stars that Aine focused on.

"Do you know why staying with Elita is so important to me?" she asked.

Nolan blinked and withdrew his hand. Well, that wasn't quite the reaction he'd been expecting. "Um, because she's our friend, and you're worried about her, right? You can't help that, but…"

Nolan trailed off as Aine shook her head.

"You're right, but that's only half of it.

"Nolan, two days ago we were a pair of regular kids on summer break. Then an alien landed almost in our backyard asking for help. I mean, we've made contact with intelligent extraterrestrial life. Robotic life, sure, but she's as much alive as you and I are. I mean, no matter what happens next, nothings ever going to be the same.

"It's not that I hated my life or anything, but…for the first time in my life I feel like I'm a part of something important, something bigger than myself, that I can give more and offer more than just live-in maid service. I made a promise, and if I go back on it, if I just give up, then I'll never forgive myself for being weak, for being a coward."

Aine rolled her head around her shoulders as she searched for the right words.

"I…Nolan, you've always been there for me, and I love you for that. But now, with Elita, this mission, even the danger…scratch that, maybe because of the danger, I feel…strong. Important. Like I really *matter*. Nolan, this is the most important thing I've ever done in my life, the *best* thing I've done with my life. I guess what it comes down to is, I want to know I've done at least on great good thing for another person before I die."

"You're only fourteen Aine," Nolan pointed out. "You've got another seventy years or so to do that."

Aine shrugged and smiled sadly with a distant look, and Nolan wondered what she was thinking of right then.

"Maybe I'm just being selfish," she went on. "but this is the first time I've felt like I was taking my life into my own hands, walking on my own two feet, making my own choices. If I-" Aine's voice cracked a little, and she cleared her thought to regain composure, "if I run away now, I'll go back to being the weak little girl I was before, who always needed someone to hold my hand. I won't be strong anymore. I don't know if I'll have another chance TO be strong. I'm not ready to let that go yet."

Nolan stared at her profile, turning this new revelation over in his head, as varied and conflicting emotions surged below his thoughts, emotions he couldn't give names too, and didn't entirely WANT to give names too. In his unbalanced moment, he said his next words more harshly than he had intended.

"Button, we're talking about a war and personal vendettas, not a Disney movie about the road to self-discovery."

Aine cringed and quickly curled back into herself. Nolan had the overpowering urge to pullout his tongue for running a head of his brain.

He pulled his hand down over his face and sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just...I don't want you to get hurt."

Aine smiled as she gave him a side long glance, scooting a little closer to her brother.

"I know. You said that already. But really, if you think about it, nothing's really changed. Elita needs our help to get to Tranquility as fast as possible otherwise she'd have to take more roundabout routes to avoid being seen by anybody. And since her ultra-advance Cybertronian GPS is on the fritz, she won't be able to navigate her way, at least not easily. Really, that'll just make her even more vulnerable. At least with us, she can take the shortest path and go through cities where Onslaught can't touch her. She already said he won't attack if there are a lot of witnesses." Aine shrugged. "The way I see it, Onslaught just means fewer pit stops."

Now Nolan was the one to lean back on his hands and look up into the sky. The sun had lowered further, and the sky wasn't quite as brilliantly painted anymore, shifting more to cool blues and purples, with more stars coming out as the sun waned. It was a clear night. Nolan only wished his mind was too, that his thoughts and counter points were as easy to pick out as the stars in the sky were.

As he thought, Aine scooted just a little bit closer, nibbling her bottom lip. "Nolan…Nolan, you don't have to give me your blessing here and now, or anything. I just want you to think about this, about why I need to do this. If you do that, and you still honestly, truly believe that I shouldn't do this, then I'll respect that. I just ask that you don't just brush it off."

Nolan rolled his head around to look at Aine seriously. "That's all?"

"If you promise to really think about it, then yes, that's all."

Nolan let his head fall back and hang from his neck, so that he stared straight up and all he could see was the sky. "Guess that's all I can promise you then. Right then: I promise I'll think long and hard about what you said, and I'll have an answer for you in the morning."

Aine gave him a wide, heartfelt smile, and scooted over until she had closed the distance between them. She leaned against him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Thank you."

Nolan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close.

"Um, Aine? About earlier, before…um, back before the library, when I was…I mean, I didn't mean to…I…I shouldn't of, you know…you know I'd never *intentionally* try hurt you, so, um…"

Aine stretched up and gave Nolan a peck on the cheek.

"Apology accepted. I love you too."

Nolan relaxed as he released tension in his shoulders he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying until now, and squeezed Aine's shoulders. He gave the top of her head a kiss and laid his cheek against her head. The two of them fit together perfectly, always, in everything.

They didn't say much else after that, just sat there and waited, looking at the stars, Aine thinking about meeting the Autobots and putting together the best argument ever to convince Elita not to make her leave, and Nolan holding her close so that she wouldn't look up and see him trying not to cry.


The thing that made energon the most desirable source of fuel for a Cybertronian is that it packed a tremendous amount of energy in a relatively small amount of space, more if it was high-grade, (a.k.a. "the good stuff"), in convenient liquefied servings for a Cybertronian to consume as needed. Energon goodies were even more compact, ideal for field rations. Plus, femmes were designed to be more energy efficient than the mechs and required less energon, and energy, to function and survive, as little as half.

That being said, when thought of in human terms even a small femme required tremendous amounts of energy to continue normal functionality day to day, and Elita was not a small femme. Which is why, as she tapped into the plants energy grid, she only planned to take enough to fill her reserves exactly halfway, and not one watt more. Were she to fill to capacity, she'd force at least a third of the nearby city into a blackout.

Not exactly discreet.

As Elita's internals hummed with energy, she herself fell into deep thought.

In all honesty, Aine's loyalty touched her deeply. They had known each other for only a couple of days, short even in human terms, yet she was already willing to remain with her despite the danger. She took up a duty, as self-appointed as it was, and she took it seriously. Elita could not help but admire that.

But Elita had duties and responsibilities of her own, which included protecting innocent lives and not allowing the fallout of their war to pull in innocent bystanders, those who had no place in the fighting, who shouldn't have to fight their battles with them. The responsible action would be to get them away from herself as soon as possible. Onslaught will not care about them if they leave. She should send them back home, where they will be safe.

Home…right. Send them back to where that slagger of a creator waited for them. That was a wonderful alternative.

Elita thought of Aine, so gentle and sweet, she could see how the younger human was trying to do the best for everyone in spite in spite of her youth, hiding her own insecurities because she did not wish to burden others. Elita thought of Nolan, his humor and affection, even his mood swings, trying so hard to be an adult though he was still a youngling, even in the eyes of his own people. The thought, the mere possibility, of sending those two back to Richard, a creature who prioritized his personal safety over his own children, who bullied and belittled them to empower himself, it made her sick, made her angry, made her want to make him pay for the future pain he would cause them.

She forced herself to calm down (refueling was pointless if she was going to burn it up by running her systems hot in a fury), but it was hard. She wanted the humans to be safe, but their sanctuary would not be with Richard.

Perhaps Aine is right, Elita thought. She and Nolan are my best chance to reach the Autobot Base as swiftly as possible with minimal detours. We could outrace Onslaught, and the children are safer with me than with Richard.

Oh, who was she kidding? The truth was, no matter how logical she tried to be about it, she just plain wanted to keep the children with her a little while longer. Already, the thought of separation, and the possibility of never seeing them again, made her feel sick and sad, as if a cold stone settled in her tanks.

So, she couldn't keep them with her, because her convenience wasn't worth the risk. But she couldn't send them home either, that would be like throwing a young petro-rabbit to a hungry cyber-hound. So what was the third option?

The mother.

True, Nolan truly believed that she would never contact them again, but Elita herself couldn't conceive that the woman would leave her children for five years without a word since. It was easier to believe that, somehow, Richard had been blocking all communication attempts on the mother's part to isolate the children from her, if only to display the power and control he held over all their lives, even if Nolan didn't know he was doing it.

Then again, even if that was true, it did not change the fact that she had left willingly, and while Elita couldn't fault her for wanting to escape a bad situation, she was less sympathetic about her choosing to leave her children behind IN that bad situation.

But back to the first hand, even if Nolan didn't know where their mother was exactly, or if she was not a suitable guardian either, surely she had family willing to take the children in, give them a safe, inviting home? She could ask Aine about extended family later. She still needed to speak to her anyway, about what was 'off' about her at the library earlier.

Elita's reserves hit the halfway mark, and not a second too soon did she detach herself from the grid. She left under the cover of darkness, and except for a handful of confused on duty technicians, no one was the wiser.

At least, no one in Missouri.


While Simmons chased leaks and Elita leaked power, the Autobots weren't sitting idle either. At that moment in Nevada, Optimus was taking his turn at the console, leaning forward in his chair and flicking through satellite images and tracking down any news reports that sounded suspicious, hoping to find something, anything, to help Jazz and Bumblebee or to identify who the newcomers were. They didn't have any satellites of their own, but with the hundreds of satellites already in orbit, they hardly needed one. With some clever hacking and programming, the Autobots were able to use Teletraan-2 to essentially piggy-back on the transmissions of satellites already in place. They just had to be sure to grab the right ones that had cameras and news stations on the other end, since it didn't do them much good to grab something from MTV by mistake (no matter WHAT Jazz might say).

In any case, even with so many eyes in the skies, it wasn't as big a boon as most might think. For one, they could only use one 'eye' at a time. For another, they weren't entirely sure what they were looking for. Well, no, that was an oversimplification; they knew what they were looking for, but they had no idea what size or shape the needle was in the extremely large haystack. It didn't help that they were looking for a pair of Transformers, for whom being able to change and blend seamlessly into the environment was the entire point.

Optimus heard the door open behind him, and he turned his head to see Ironhide stomping in, his entire frame radiating extreme annoyance. Without any preamble he groused, "I am becoming increasingly convinced that 99% of humans are completely incapable of independent thought. Refresh my memory: why are we allied with them again?"

"They're letting us remain on their planet in peace and even create a sanctuary for other Autobots to come."

"Ah. Right. The Ark is still on the moon, you sure we can't just stay there and be done with it?"

Optimus turned back to the screens so Ironhide wouldn't see his grin. For all his complaining, Ironhide would never leave Earth so easily, especially after spending so much time with the Lennox's – a natural side effect of Will Lennox being reassigned as the military-Autobot liaison. And Optimus certainly had *no* idea how much his battle hardened Weapons Specialist simply adored baby Annabelle, nope, none at all.

Speaking of the Lennoxs, Optimus asked "Has Lennox been able to secure us transport?"

Ironhides scowl returned with a vengeance. "He's trying, but whoever thought up the system thought it would be a riot to make everything as convoluted as possible! Lennox has to contact five different people who have to get permission from ten more each who have to contact their superiors who may or may not get back to them sometime this week. You could choke UNICRON with all the red tape they're throwing at us! Primus, at this rate nothing short of another full scale Decepticon attack is going to get us results before next year!"

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Optimus said, though he too felt slightly frustrated.

They needed to get a large aircraft on standby, something that could transport himself, Ironhide, and Ratchet to Jazz and Bumblebee's location if need be. The tricky part was finding something big enough for them all, not currently in use, able to be spared for a few days even if they ended up not needing it, and won't be missed if they did. Granted, they most likely wouldn't need a few days, but right now Optimus was going to err on the side of caution and keep their options open. It wasn't just finding the plane – it was getting the permission without creating a paper trail as to WHY it was needed it at all or WHERE it was going.

Primus, if it was this hard to get an aircraft for a few days, how much harder was it going to be to wrangle enough cooperation for the Autobots to bring their ship, the Ark, down to Earth eventually?

"I can handle Decepticons," Ironhide muttered darkly, crossing his arms. "Just keep me away from the bureaucrats."

Any further talk/complaining was cut off by a pinging from the console, and an alert popping up onscreen:

Incoming Message: Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency.

"Great, just what my day needs: human sized weasels," Ironhide muttered. He was probably still the most angry with Sector 7, and by association Simmons, for capturing Bumblebee. While the others could be professional if not friendly, it was generally best not to let the black 'bot speak to Simmons in the interest preserving human/Cybertronian relations.

Not responding to Ironhide, Optimus answered the pinging, and up on the monitor a new screen popped up, this time of a blond woman in a black suit, sunglasses in chest pocket. Optimus recognized her, from the last couple of times the RDA had needed to contact them. Technically, that should have been Simmons job since he outranked her, but she hadn't been with Sector 7, so there wasn't any past history to muddy the waters. It was just easier for everyone this way.

"Evening Optimus Prime," she greeted with a polite nod.

"Agent Grit," Optimus greeted in turn. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Earlier today, we confiscated some video footage from a kid that ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time," Grit explained briskly, not unfriendly, just overly professional. "The footage shows two Cybertronians in a fire fight, far from any cities, thank god. He got it on YouTube before we found out, but all traces of the video have been purged from the internet. Our specialists are tying up the loose ends as we speak."

Optimus' brow lifted in surprise, and Ironhide stared at her incredulously. "Why didn't anybody *tell* us about this?" the latter mech exclaimed with a touch of anger. Grit flinched slightly, but her voice betrayed no emotion.

"We acted as soon as we learned of it as well. We have the original tape, and the filmmaker and his associates are in custody right now, until they're well convinced not to speak of this to anyone." Grit lowered her eyes and, off screen, typed something on her computer. "I'm sending you a copy of the footage over our secure channel. We were hoping you'd be able to identify one or both of them. If we know who our targets are, it might be easier to predict what they'll do next before they have a chance to hurt anyone. Oh, and according to the witnesses, the children are with the red one."

Just as promised, another pinging alerted to the message. Grit waited patiently, clearly waiting for Optimus and Ironhide to see the footage themselves and tell her their verdict right away. Optimus didn't dissuade her.

With a couple of buttons, the message opened into a new screen, Grit's image being marginalized to the lower left corner of the screen to make room for this new one. The footage started sharply and fast, and though the camera was jerky and the humans excited voice over distracting, he gave the audience a good look at a hulking green robotic figure, towering over the trees behind him. Optimus frowned in recognition, and paused the video just to make sure.

"That appears to be Onslaught, leader of the Combaticons," he told Grit. "We didn't detect any other landings, so he must be without his team. But that would make no sense; they are a gestalt team, they do not take separation lightly."

"How bad is he by himself?" Grit asked.

"He's not the worst, but he's plenty dangerous all by himself." Ironhide answered. "And it looks like he's still carrying just as much firepower as he did before. He's smart enough, but not as dangerous as Starscream."

"What do you think he'll do next?"

"It's hard to say," Optimus admitted, hitting the play button again. "Onslaught never did anything outside of Megatrons orders or directives. It's hard to predict what he will do now without-"

The camera shifted to the other combatant, and for five full seconds all mental processes came to a screeching halt. The room was completely, utterly silent except for the muted explosions and gunfire from the video.

"Optimus?" Grit ventured, sounding slightly concerned. "Is something wrong?"

Optimus didn't hear her. He shot straight up out of his chair completely transfixed by what he was seeing, unable to believe this was real, because this was some sort of trick, a mistake, it wasn't – was it?

Ironhide look of shock morphed into a huge grin, and he let out a loud, bellowing laugh, slapping a hand on his unresponsive commander's shoulder. "See! I was right! I TOLD you she'd get here!"

"No," Optimus whispered in disbelief, almost drowned out by the sounds of battle still raging in the video. "No, it can't, it's a mistake, it can't actually her. There's no way it's actually her-"

"I can always deal with Decepticons. Elita One knows no fear."

Optimus legs promptly stopped working. He fell heavily back into his chair, said furniture creaking under the sudden demand, his optics completely frozen on the image. Ironhide laughed again, clapping Optimus on the shoulder in congratulations. Grit looked completely confused. "So, is this a good thing or a bad thing?" she finally asked.

"A good thing Grit," Ironhide said, grin wide enough to threaten to split his face in two. "A very, very good thing.

"Just tell you're bosses that the green one's the bad guy, and that the red one is an Autobot officer. If she's got humans with her, then it's probably for their own good. They're a frag of a lot safer with her than anywhere else."

"If you say so…" Grit said uncertainly, eyeing Optimus again. "Is he going to be alright?"

"Who, Prime? Just needs to get this through his processors. We'll get back to you." Ironhide reached over and disconnected the transmission, hanging up on the extremely confused Grit. The video had ended, and Optimus swiftly, almost desperately, rewound it to pause on Elita, gun up, expression fierce, looking devastatingly amazing in the shot. Ironhide leaned down slightly to speak, still grinning.

"So, you want to radio Jazz and Bee about this, or should I do that?"

Optimus stood up so fast his shoulder nearly slammed upwards into Ironhides chin. "You tell Jazz and Bumblebee about Elita One and Onslaught. I have to speak with Lennox. Maybe the military would be more willing to help if I addressed them myself."

Optimus stode the room quickly, a mech on a mission and Primus help anyone who tried to get in his way. Ironhide smirked, but it softened after a few seconds. Heh, of all the 'bots to make it to Earth, Elita was the very first. Who would have thought? Still, he was happy for his commander. Optimus had had to shoulder so many burdens over the last few millennia. It was good for him to finally get something back.

Ironhide absently stroked the armor covering his spark, his mind drifting to memories of blue armor and a mighty fighting spirit. If Elita was here now, how far behind was her SiC?

The door opened again, and Ironhide looked up in time to see a confused Ratchet coming in for his turn at the console.

"I just escaped from being plowed over by Prime," Ratchet said. "Any idea why?"

"You didn't step to the side?" Ironhide suggested cheekily. Ratchet gave him a dry look, until he noticed the video still playing on the screen.

Ratchet actually took a step back out the door in shock. "What the…Elita One??"

"The one and only," Ironhide said, and Ratchet broke out of his shock to shoot Ironhide an annoyed look for the awful pun.

"I was just about to let Jazz and Bumblebee know about this," the Topkick went on. "You mind telling Grit anything she needs to know about Elita and Onslaught while I do that?"


"I'm just saying, Sector 7 sounded cool and mysterious, because you had no idea what their job was, plus nobody even knew they exist." Sam was trying to explain. "RDA just sounds so…blah. Like, IRS, or something. Initials just aren't that cool. An acronym, sure, if it spells something cool. But initials…no, just no."

"What about the FBI, or CIA?" Mikaela rebutted

"That's different. Everyone knows who those guys are, and they've had, like, decades to make a reputation. The RDA doesn't have that."

"Maybe that's why you never hear any of them call it 'RDA,'" Bee suggested. "Think about it, the agents never say 'RDA,' it's always 'Reconnaissance and Discretion Agency.' Sometimes, I think they're embarresed."

At the moment, the quartet were on the highway, and while the day was winding down and the traffic was light, it was decided that Mikaela would ride with Jazz in front while Bumblebee hung back with Sam, so that nobody would freak out seeing a car driving itself. Mikaela had her hands on the wheel for the sake of appearances, something that was turning into more of a habit than a decision, and in the way most long car trips with few pit stops went they killed time with the age old art of conversation.

"The long version's a bit of a mouthful," Jazz was saying, "but I gotta admit, it does sound more dramatic like – hold on peoples, 'Hides pinging me from HQ. Gimme a minute to see what's up."

"Are you putting him on speaker?" Mikaela asked.

"Depends on what he's gotta say. I'll let ch'ya know."

"Jazz here. Got any leads for me?"

"Not yet, but we're still looking. Someone bumped into the two new arrivals and filmed them both in a fight. The RDA got the tape and sent us a copy, so now we know who we're looking for."

"We've got positive ID's? Sweet! Who're they?

"One of them is Onslaught. No idea what he's doing here without the rest of his gestalt."

"Slag. 'Least he's alone. Since the two bots were fightin', I'm guessin' the other's an Autobot. Who is it?"

Jazz could almost hear the smirk on the other end. "You're not going to believe this."

Mikaela waited patiently as Jazz conversed with Ironhide over their private line, guessing to herself what the Topkick wanted. Her musing came to a screeching halt when the entire car *jerked* upwards almost violently. Mikaela yelped as she fell back into her seat, and she would later suspect that if Jazz hadn't been in car mode he would have been jumping and dancing around with joy.

"Jazz?!" she yelped, starting to panic a little. "What the heck? What's wrong, what happened?"

"Jazz, is everything alright?" Bee's voice sounded worried over the comm., and Mikaela had no doubt Sam was sharing in his concern.

"I'm better than alright!" Jazz practically sang. "We got positive ID's on both the 'bots. One's a Decepticon, but we already figured that. The other's an Autobot, and you're not gonna believe who it is!"

"Jazz…you, Ratchet, Ironhide, Bumblebee, and Optimus are the ONLY Autobots we know," Mikaela reminded him. "I mean, it's great that there's another Autobot on Earth, but I think you're vastly overestimating the shock value here."

Jazz still announced the name like he hadn't heard a word Mikaela said: "It's none other than the Commander of the Femme Division and Prime's sweetheart Elita One!"

Behind the silver coupe, the Camaro suddenly swerved a little in shock.

"WHAAAT?"

"Optimus has a girlfriend??" This was from Sam, equally gobsmacked but for an entirely different (yet no less legitimate) reason.

"Sure is, and he sure does!" Jazz answered with a laugh in his voice. His utter glee was getting contagious, and while Mikaela didn't understand all that was going on (what's a femme?), she couldn't help but smile right along with him. Besides, this was GOOD news, and this Elita was someone very important to Optimus personally. How could she NOT be happy for the big guy?

"So does Ironhide know where either of them are?" Mikaela asked.

"Nope, they're still lookin', and so far none of my little sources haven't – waitaminute, hold on a minute..."

Jazz fell silent for several seconds, and Mikaela straightened a little in her seat at the sudden serious atmosphere. So once again, she was taken completely by surprise when the car, for the second time in less than a minute, did it's very best to jump for joy.

"Whoa! Ye-AH! All right YES! Thank you PRIMUS!"

"Let me guess: more good news?" Sam asked dryly once they came down.

Jazz's voice was pure glee. "Boys and girls, I've got a bite!"

Behind the silver coupe, Sam gave the steering wheel a blank stare, silently asking for his robotic guardian to translate Jazze-ese into English. Unfortunately, Bee was just as clueless. Nobody said anything for nearly a minute.

"Before we left, I hacked into the US power grid and planted a little bug ta let me know 'bout big anomalies with no apparent cause," Jazz finally explained. "If there was ever a large mystery drain, the bug would note the time an' place and let me know right away."

"Wait, you did what?" Mikaela interrupted. "Does the government know you did that? They'll be freaked if they knew you could do that."

"They'll never know unless Jazz wanted them to know," Bee said quickly in Jazz's defense. "What they don't know won't hurt them, right?"

"That doesn't make it okay," Mikaela insisted, crossing her arms. "Seriously, you shouldn't make a habit of doing that. It'll make everyone think of what Frenzy did, and everyone who knows what really happened is already enough on edge."

"Yeah, but these are extenuating circumstances." Sam said. "I mean, it's not like anyone's getting hurt or that he's violating anyone's privacy."

"You know that, I know that, but somewhere down the line someone might try to use stuff like this as ammunition against you guys, to slap regulations and restrictions on you," Mikaela insisted. "Besides, does Optimus know you did that?"

"You're all kinda missin' the real point here," Jazz said sulkily, sounding so much like a little kid Mikaela couldn't help but grin. "I planted that bug on the off chance that one of our not-so-mysterious-anymore friends would need ta refuel between now and later, and siphoning off already gathered energy would be the easiest way ta do it."

NOW it was starting to sink in.

"Wait, so you know *exactly* where one of these guys is RIGHT NOW!?" Mikaela exclaimed

"That I do, little lady!" Jazz said, perking up again now that his mad skillz were being appreciated properly. "Right now she or he is in Missouri, prob'bly headin' into Kanses. Which means we gotta book it before the trail gets too cold."

Mikaela already had her seatbelt on, but it tightened slightly and the seat leaned back a little, startling the girl, and was it her imagination, or did the cushioning just get softer?

"Ready Bee?"

"Ready Jazz!"

Somehow, the tinge of excitement in their mechanical friend's voices didn't bode well with Mikaela. But before she could comment, she (and Sam) became acutely aware of just how fast Jazz and Bumblebee could go, if they wanted.

With a sharp kick of speed Mikaela was pushed back into her seat, the cushion molding around her body and holding her safely and comfortably in place. Too bad they couldn't do anything about the stomach she left behind.

"Jazz!?" she exclaimed/squeaked, having lost her ability to speak in complete sentences.

"I did say we had ta book it, didn't I? Goin' this fast uses a lotta power, an' since Bee an' I only had a general idea of where ta go, it woulda been a waste of energy before now."

"Cops?!"

"I'm sending out a scrambling signal ahead of us ta cover Bee an' me. Ain't no speedometers gonna know how fast we're really goin'. Not," Jazz added with a chuckle, "that the cops would be able ta catch us even if they did."

"Speed?!"

"I don't think ya really wanna know."

Mikaela gripped the cloth of her jeans and eased her head right to watch the other cars, moving at 70 to 80 miles an hour, fall behind them as if they'd been perfectly still. *Just how fast ARE we going?* she wondered, then immediately decided that Jazz was right, she was happier not knowing.


10:30, somewhere in Kansas that same evening.

Since camping out for the night wasn't an option, darkness found Elita driving down a mostly empty highway with a dead asleep Nolan in the back and a drowsy Aine behind the wheel, one hand up strictly for appearances sake. It was dark enough for no one to notice the "driver" was underage, but not late enough yet to not need a body in the seat.

Elita checked Nolan's body signs one more time, and everything checked out consistently with deep sleep. If they kept quiet, then this would be her best, maybe her only opportunity to speak to Aine in private.

"Aine? Are you truly alright?" she asked.

Aine jerked a little at her name, startled by the sudden intrusion of sound in the silence. But she recovered quickly and smiled. "What? What're you talking about?"

"At the library you seemed..off. Elevated heart rate, increased talk, and you never inquired into Nolan's well being after his emotional outburst.

Aine hesitated for a beat too long. "It's just the stress catching up on me, I guess. I mean, c'mon, I'm on the lam with a giant intergalactic robot, running away from another less-nice giant robot. Not that I want to quite or anything," she added hurriedly, "but, you know, it's a lot to take in, and the library was the first time I had a quiet moment to sit down and think about it, you know? So yeah, I was coming down from that when you and Nolan got back."

"If you do not feel comfortable in telling me the truth, you need not lie to me instead."

Aine felt her heart still. "What?"

"For one, your vitals fluctuate when you tell a lie, and I suspect you do not have much experience lying as you do in simply concealing. Aine, I know that whatever you are dealing with, it is not limited to what happened today with Onslaught or the other humans."

Aine didn't answer. Elita spoke again, her voice soft and gentle, like a warm caress. "Aine, do not misunderstand. I wish to help you, but I will not force you to confide in me if you do not desire to. I am not here to tell you what to do or how to live your life, and I will offer advice only if you ask of it. I will not pressure you into sharing all your secrets with me, but I will be here if you need someone to listen."

Aine tensed slightly at 'secrets,' and Elita could practically see the jumbled thoughts dancing around behind her eyes, her toes bouncing with repressed anxiety. The silence stretched on until the tension was nearly unbearable, but Elita patiently waited for Aine to be ready.

"Have…have you ever had a secret that, that you couldn't tell anyone?" She asked at last in a near whisper. Elita deliberated carefully before she answered.

"As a military officer, I have held many secrets I could not share with my soldiers. But on a personal basis, it has been my experience that most secrets will find their way out eventually, sometimes in the worst way possible. I also have learned that on occasion that which I had believed dire and best left in the dark was not nearly as detrimental as I had supposed."

"Well, what if it really is bad as you think it is?" Aine pressed. "It's not a secret you don't want to tell anyone, it's one you can't tell anyone. It's something that'll make everyone really upset, and really complicate things, but isn't something anyone can change. I mean, you can't do anything about it, and it'll only make you sad to learn about it, and it'll just make everything really complicated. Wouldn't it more loving to let the other people stay blissfully ignorant, and not upset the balance?"

She speaks as if she carries the world on her shoulders, Elita thought, but corrected herself. No, not "the" world, but "her" world.

"True, we all wish to treat those we care about in a loving, respectful manner, and to protect them as much we can." Elita said. "There is nothing wrong in that. However, perhaps you should consider what would want if the situation were reversed."

"What *I* would want? What do you mean by that?"

"Such a secret would be a heavy, painful burden for anyone to bear alone, especially for a young person. If Nolan were the only carrying the burden, would you rather he kept it to himself and protect your world, or that he shared his secret with you and let you share the load?"

Elita could see that new thought blooming in Aine's mind, something she likely had never considered before. She leaned back into her seat, expression pensive. Elita didn't prod her, but she knew Aine had new food for thought and would need a bit of time to digest it fully.

Now for the hard part…

"Aine, does this have anything to do with anxiety about returning to Richard?"

Aine started, clearly taken off guard by the question. "What? No, I'm not worried about that at all. I mean, that's not what I'm thinking about."

"You are not concerned about facing his anger again?" Elita asked, sincerely surprised.

Aine started to shake her head no, paused, and then gave a reluctant one-shoulder shrug instead. "I know he's going to be really mad and all, but he's still our dad. He's probably really worried about us by now."

"He was prepared to sacrifice you and Nolan to me in exchange for his own safety," Elita reminded her. "That does not warrant such devotion and loyalty."

Aine straightened, looking a little angry. "First of all, he was being held twenty feet in the air by an angry robot! He was terrified out of his mind, obviously he couldn't think straight. If you asked, I be couldn't even tell you his own *name*! I'm sure he regrets it by now."

"Your brother was frightened of me as well, yet he was prepared to engage me armed with nothing but a baseball bat because he sincerely believed I was a threat to you."

"Well, Dad's not Nolan, is he? And besides, he's family. He's our father! Family means you stay together and support each other, and Dad needs us with him. You only saw one side of him, but he used to be nice and, and funny, and kind, and did lots of things for us! He only got like, like what you saw after Mom was gone. It hit him so hard, he's had such a hard time getting over it, he, he started lashing out and changing because he doesn't know how else to deal with it. He's not nearly as bad if he's happy, and if Nolan and I stay with him, if we keep loving him and showing that we still respect him, then I'm sure he'll go back to the way he was before someday!"

Elita was shocked that Aine was willing to defend Richard's actions, and her first reaction was to try and reason Aine out of such an illogical position.

"I understand your wishes, and they are perfectly natural. He is your father, and I am not saying it is a sin to love him. But abusive personalities do not hit rock bottom and learn to turn their lives around. He has had five years to come to terms with your mother leaving, and yet he continues to "lash out" as you put it. That is not grief, that is a selfish person seeking control and power. So long as you comply with his whims, he has no motivation to change his behaviors, not unless something drastic happens…such as the loss of his children."

Aine crossed her arms. "Well, that's already happened, hasn't it? If you're so worried, then maybe this'll be the kick he needs to go back to his old self, like he was when Mom was around."

Elita remembered Nolan describing how their mother had acted as a buffer between Richard and the young children. Had Richard been as good a person and Aine believed she remembered him, such protection would not have been necessary.

"You still plan to return to him immediately. What if his behavior does not change even then? You would freely return to such a dangerous situation?"

The human girl made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. "You just don't get it, do you? He's family, and family means sticking together through thick or thin, even when – scratch that, ESPECIALLY when one of us is having a hard time and needs support. Mom would have wanted us to stay a family. She wanted us to stay together, she never would've wanted us to split up!"

Aine threw her hands up in frustration. "Gaah, why am I explaining this to you? You guys don't even have kids and stuff, you depended on the Allspark for that!"

Elita internally flinched as the sharp, careless words dug deep and twisted in her spark, and it finally occurred to her that she had crossed a line with Aine. She only wanted to help the girl and her brother, but good intentions did not give her permission to speak so freely. How arrogant of her to assume that, with soft words and rational arguments, she could undo in a night what Richard had spent a lifetime cultivating!

Still, Elita couldn't let this last thing slide.

"The Allspark is the source of all Cybertronian life, but it was not the source of every life," Elita corrected gently. "As far as we know, Bumblebee was the last of the younglings, the last of the sparklings."

Aine blinked, anger diffusing into confusion. "'Youngling?' 'Sparkling?' Wait, you mean…"

"In human terms, it would be 'child' and 'infant,' if I understand correctly."

"But, back at the house, I thought you said-"

"Just because we are not capable of replenishing our numbers as swiftly as humans, or that we lack the capability to restore our former population ever again, does not mean we are unable to create individual lives as well. The Allspark could have given Megatron an army. We did not depend on it to give us families."

"So, you do have…wait, if Bumblebee's supposed to be the last, what happened to…"

In the blink of an eye, the brunette went from confused to horrified. She covered her mouth with one hand as she gasp in realization. "Oh no, no no no…oh Elita, I'm SO sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I wasn't thinking!"

"It is fine," Elita soothed, though the accusation from before still stung and rubbed raw old wounds and painful memories. "You did not know, and I am an alien to you. You cannot always assume where we are different and were we are…the same."

Aine still had her mouth covered, her expression beginning to twist in the oncoming tears of regret and shame at her callous assumption, and the tragedies she had unwittingly trampled on. She was trying so hard not to cry, but it was getting harder to hold it back. "I'm still sorry..." she whispered chokingly.

Aine let out a little gasp as her seat started to warm up and vibrate up and down her back, like a gentle caress. It was the closest to physical comfort Elita could provide like this. "You spoke in anger," the femme soothed. "I understand this. I apologize as well; I overstepped my bounds. I am not offended by what you said, so long as you do not forget what you have learned. We have both learned not to assume too much."

Aine wiped her eyes of the tears gathered there and started to relax, with a small, relieved smile. She finally relaxed, starting to feel a little better now that she knew Elita wasn't angry or hurt. Elita kept up the massage for another few seconds, and Aine rested her head back, her eyes fluttering open and closed, lulled by the warmth and the soothing vibrations melting all the tension from her body.

Before Aine could nod off completely, Elita asked "You said your mother wanted you, Nolan, and Richard to stay together. What did you mean by that?"

Aine shrugged, peeling her eyes open. "Pretty much what it sounded like. I don't remember a lot about her, but I know Mom would always talk about how family was so important, and how we had to support each other. She was really close to her family, I know that, so that was probably where she got it from. And since she's not around anymore, it's kinda my job now to do all the stuff she used to do."

"Who says that her duties were to become your duties?"

"Well, no one said so exactly. But I'm the only other girl, so it was sort of obvious, right? And it works. It's what Mom would have wanted, I think."

Actually, the O'Connell matriarch's verbal devotion to family values stank of hypocrisy to the Commander. This WAS the same woman who abandoned her own children to a man she knew was abusive and controlling, after all. Elita was having trouble reconciling that, with the woman Aine was speaking of so highly now.

"Forgive me if I am too forward, but I have difficulty understand how you can feel so strongly about your mother's lessons when she herself did not apply them. She left your family without a word, did she not?"

Aine lifted her head from the head rest and blinked owlishly. "What? Who told you that?"

In the interest of protecting Nolan's privacy as she had promised, Elita answered instead "Your mother was absent from your home, and she was a near taboo subject for yourself and Nolan. I could only deduce that she had left your family some time ago."

It was the truth. Elita had had her own suspicions of what had happened to the mother from the beginning, and Nolan had confirmed and clarified them.

But Aine was shaking her head. "I can see why you might think that, but you're a little off."

"Oh?" Elita said curiously. "How am I incorrect?"

Aine told her.

Elita felt like her cooling systems had malfunctioned, going into overdrive and flushing her energon lines with coolant, while everything else shutdown and went utterly silent and still, including her pump and her CPU.

The warmth and pleasant vibrations had abruptly stopped, and in the silence Aine grew concerned. "Elita? Elita, are you okay?" she asked worriedly, putting a hand on the dashboard.

"I…my apologies, I am not certain I heard you correctly," the femme said, a small, but blindingly obvious in its rarity, waver in her voice. "Would you please reiterate what you said?"

Aine rubbed her hand back and forth on the dashboard in a gesture of comfort and complied.

"I said, Mom never walked out or abandoned us. She actually died, five years ago."


AN: I said you'd learn something new. I never said it'd be anything good.

Any and all reviews will be loved and cherished, whether it's to say "Great story!", "You suck!", or "grapes are sexy." I'm not picky. :)