Author's Note:

I'm a busy bee now. Lucky to have at LEAST some sort of free time to myself. Ugh.

Anyways, check out this awesome-sauced fan art that I received in an art trade! Remove the astricks thingys (*)

http*:/*/thescarred*.deviantart.*com/*art/Request- Whatayamacholit-321394128

Wheeljack felt his spark lurch when Miko leaned over the trash can he had found, dry heaving and trying to throw up something she didn't have. When she was done, she flopped back down on the couch with a pitiful moan.

"Jackie . . ."

An aggrieved hiss vented from his body. Pressing the cool metal of his finger to her forehead, she squirmed away from the contact before relaxing, closing her eyes. It didn't counter the fact that the wetness had sparked in her eyes again, but it helped hide it.

"I know, Babe, I know . . ." By Primus her skin was burning! His spark clenched in painful worry, and he growled helplessly a moment, metal hinging up. He grumbled angrily to himself. "I knew I should have taken you to your mother . . ."

She frowned, leaning up slightly into his finger. "But I want you . . ."

Wheeljack felt his jaw grind in irritation. "Miko, I'm not good enough to get you healthy again. You need a human who knows what she's doing."

"NO," Miko groaned pathetically again, a hand reaching up to grip at his finger. "Please, Jackie, I want to stay with you . . ."

He growled in irritation, passing hand over his face. "All right. But if you don't hold it down this time, I WILL take you back home. Got it?"

She nodded, but didn't look happy. Her slightly trembling hand reached over for the flat and watery Sprite and she took a tiny sip.

Surprisingly, she kept it down with aplomb.

Wheeljack grunted to himself. Must've been his threat to take her home . . .

It was a little later when she took another sip, and then, she groaned. "Jackie . . ."

"What is it?"

A weak but furious scowl managed to cross her features. "I need to go to the bathroom."

He nodded. "I'll help you get there."

He was a bit surprised to see her lurch over and grab her backpack. Stumped at what she could want, Wheeljack watched her fish around sluggishly for a minute before pulling up a small pink bag. When it got stuck on something, she merely got irritated and yanked harder, but it caused the zipper on the small skull bag to open and things to come pouring out.

In fed up anger, Miko gave a raw shout and threw the bag down. "Freaking mother—fragging—frack of Megatron's afterburner!" Tears of irritation sparked in her eyes.

Her choice of explicatives amused him, but Wheeljack merely touched her reassuringly. "I've got it, Babe, don't you worry." Picking up an assortment of panty liners, pads, and tampons, Wheeljack fitted them all back in the bag, and he even found the offending hand sanitizer that had slid a bit farther than the others. Zipping it back up, Wheeljack felt his optics soften as he looked down on his intensely sick charge. "You ready?"

She scowled again, crossing her arms. "Why the frig not? I'll just end up bleeding through my pants . . ."

Wrinkling his nose from too much information, Wheeljack slipped his fingers as gently as he could around her, lifting her tiny and weak body from the couch. Secretly, as the heat pad and blanket slipped from around her, he was happy to get her away from the heat. She shivered immediately, but he could feel her skin as hot as fire, and it made him sick with worry.

Letting her down at the door where the humans had found the old bathroom in the abandoned missile silo, he watched her stagger inside and shut the door. His gut twisted. If she didn't get better soon . . .

After a rather lengthy time in the bathroom, Miko came out and Wheeljack scooped her up again, moving lethargically slow to help keep from upsetting her stomach any more than it already was. However, Wheeljack was pleasantly surprised when he came back into the main room of the silo to see Arcee—Jack!

Said teenager was already at the couch and coffee table, pulling things out of his backpack. Wheeljack gave him a grateful grin as he set Miko back down on the couch. "Jack, I've never been so happy to see you in my life."

Miko perked up some at the mere smell that wafted through the area. "Oh my gosh, Jack, is that soup?"

He grinned. "Yeah, but I'm under strict orders of my mom. Can't let you have it yet—you'd probably just throw it back up."

Miko's little bubble of happiness was popped. "Yeah, don't remind me . . ." She slunk back down into the cushions, but while she put the heat pad back on, she let the blanket pillow about her ankles. Wheeljack nodded to himself—good. She needed to cool off.

Miko wrinkled her nose when Jack began to pour some type of medicine. "What's that?" she asked suspiciously, voice gritting raw.

Jack grinned again. "Your medicine. Mom gives it to me for this kind of stuff."

She frowned and turned away. "I don't want it."

"Well too bad. You've got to take it."

Miko scowled then, glaring through slitted eyes. "Oh yeah? You can't make me." She poked her tongue out petulantly. "I'm not taking ANYTHING you give me!"

Wheeljack frowned at her. "Miko, you've got to take your medicine. Want me to give you back to your host parents?"

She looked up with big eyes. "N-No . . ."

Wheeljack nodded. "Then take it. No need to be stubborn."

She wrinkled her nose at Jack, and said teenager looked very smug as he squatted by the couch with the small measuring cup. "C'mon, Miko," he said with a grin. He reached over and brought a pack of chocolate popsicles into sight. He wagged them in front of her wide eyes. "I'll give you a popsicle if you take it."

She sneered furiously then, and Wheeljack noted with some amusement that she acted like she was getting better. Must be the competition with Jack . . . Whatever that competition was. "I'm not a kid!" she snapped at him, raspy voice cracking a little. "And if it's coming from you, I don't want it, you pretentious prick!"

Jack arched an amused brow as he opened up the box. "Whoa, Miko. Pretentious? Sounds like someone's actually been paying attention in English class!"

Heat shot to her cheeks when he pulled out a chocolate flavored popsicle. "I learn the words just to use them on you," she defended herself angrily. "You just laugh when I call you an ass-wipe, so I figured something like magniloquent imbecile would work better."

"Language," Wheeljack mechanically reminded her.

Jack's brows pinched at her words, and he opened the chocolate popsicle. Her eyes snapped to the treat just beyond her reach. "Well, if this querulous juvenile wants her popsicle, she's going to have to take her medicine. Or should I eat it instead?"

She narrowed her eyes to angry slits. "You wouldn't dare."

He gave a careless shrug and held out the medicine again. "Well, I don't know," he drawled out, infuriating Miko further. "It sounds pretty good to me. I mean, a chocolate popsicle," and he waved it under her nose. She grabbed at it, but he merely pulled it out of her reach again. "If you don't want it, I'll eat it."

Miko glared at him, silently daring him to eat her popsicle while she was on her period and craving the chocolate, but Jack just took her bluff with a wink. Putting the tip of his tongue to the base of the popsicle, he licked it from base to tip.

Furious heat filled her cheeks until Wheeljack was sure she would explode. "Give me that!" she snarled. She yanked the medicine from his hand so ferociously that she nearly spilled it, and she downed the liquid in one gulp with a grimace. She then proceeded to snatch the popsicle from Jack's grip and clamp her mouth over it possessively. She retreated as deep as she could into the couch and glared at him with daggers, sucking on the popsicle in sullen triumph.

Jack smirked but picked up the tiny cup she had thrown at him and put it away. "I guess someone's already feeling a lot better," he said snarkily.

Miko just growled at him and then ignored him.

Wheeljack felt a lip twitch as he watched Miko work on her chocolate popsicle. Well, in fact, JACK'S popsicle. Did she realize that she was eating it after he had licked it? Technically, that was what they called a "second-hand" kiss . . . Wheeljack chuckled, causing Miko to glare up accusingly.

"What're you laughing at?"

He shook his head, not daring to pick on her now. "I'll tell you later," he said with a wave of his hand. Looking around, he noticed their missing companion. "Where's Raf and Bumblebee?"

Jack grinned as he pulled out a blanket and tossed it at Miko. She shrieked angrily when it fell over her head. "He and Bumblebee opted to stay away when they heard she was on her period. I think they're afraid of her."

"And you better be too!" Miko snapped before throwing the blanket back at him. Jack just laughed to her carangid though—besides, her hurting voice had merely cracked at the end of her threat and ruined the effect.

Arcee, watching it all with some degree of amusement, arched a brow. "Hey, just be glad I'm not a human. At least I don't have a period."

Wheeljack burst out laughing at the thought. "Oh Primus! Arcee, if you had a period, we'd just set you on Megatron and we would have won the war years ago!" He bellowed with laughter, making even Jack grin at Arcee's indignation.

"Just think, 'C," he said, eyes crinkling with laugh lines, "You could have had Megatron running with his tail between his legs!" Jack laughed too, and Arcee decided to leave them all, muttering the whole way down the hall.

Miko yawned before proceeding to lick up her popsicle languidly, humming to herself at the taste of chocolate she had been craving. "Wheeljack?" she called up to him while Jack set a portable coffee mug filled with ginger tea next to her—and also a ginger ale, which he opened. She was about to snap at him not to drink it when he pulled out a Coke for himself. She looked up at her guardian's worried blue optics. "You said you and Bulkhead were part of a Wrecking team, right?"

The question surprised him. Yes, he had mentioned it, but . . . Honestly, he hadn't been expecting her to inquire about it. Finally, he got his articulators to work again.

"Well, uh—yeah. Yeah, we were. Why?"

She gave a nonchalant shrug, difficult in her slumped position, but manageable. "I want to know," she husked and then proceeded to clear her throat. "How many of you guys were there? Names? Designations?"

The sudden interest was like a slap in the face. He felt his vocals tightening up. Primus, he hadn't talked about the Wrecking team with really anyone but . . . Bulkhead. "Well, ah," he finally started to say, "there were twelve of us in all, including myself. I . . . don't know how many of us are still alive. I know Impactor, Pyro, Rotorstorm, Roadbuster, and Seaspray . . . and Bulkhead, are all dust." He scowled, clenching his hands and turning his face away. "Primus, that's half of us right there."

There was a pause. "Can you tell me about them?" Wheeljack looked up at her, but Miko looked away when he tried to look her in the eye. She quickly licked her chocolate popsicle to keep it from melting all over her fingers. "I mean, if you want to."

Sighing, Wheeljack turned toward her. "Yeah, sure. The rest of 'em are Ultra Magnus, Springer, Topspin, Whirl, and Twin Twist. I have no idea if they're still alive. What're you wanting to know about them?"

Miko shrugged. "I don't know. Just tell me about them. Do they have nicknames like you and Bulkhead did?"

Wheeljack swallowed, trying to loosen his articulators. Primus, she talked about Bulkhead with more ease than he did. Miko licked untroubled over her popsicle, and it was then Wheeljack realized he had an audience in Jack too who was sitting crisscross on the floor. Clearing his throat, Wheeljack finally pried his glossia unstuck from his mouth.

"Well, um, our leader was Ultra Magnus." He gave a slight laugh. "We couldn't rightly give him a nickname. It'd be like trying to call Optimus "Op" or some such mess. Sometimes we called him "Mags" but never in front of him!"

Miko smiled, lying back comfortably on the couch. "Okay, what about the rest of them?"

Wheeljack shook his head. "Oh man, we were a mess. We called Seaspray "Barnacle Butt" cause that ol' Wrecker loved being in anything liquid. His alt mode was like a transport hovercraft, and he loved the water. Anything he could swim in, he was in there! He fought best there, and honestly, he was more at home in waters than on actual land. I bet he despised any time he was on land."

Miko snickered, the sound a bit congested. "Right. A fish outta water."

Wheeljack chuckled too, the memory of him bittersweet. "He could be a pranking idiot though. I still remember when he tried to go swimming in molten lava." Wheeljack snorted, crossing his arms. "Glitching rust-bucket. He was a basket case when we pulled him out. It served him right, jumping in that lava."

Miko laughed again, shaking her head. "He sounds fun, I dunno what you're talking about."

His lips twitched up a moment. "Yeah . . . Primus, he would have loved Earth. This planet has the most water of any others I've been on." He shook his head, spark clenching. "He would have been fascinated . . . and all the weird animals LIVING in the ocean—slag, he would have been in hog-heaven . . ."

"What about, um, what's his face . . . ugh, oh well. Ultra Magnus? What was he like? Like Optimus?"

Wheeljack's lips slanted up. She was trying to distract him from the pain. Touched by her sincerity, Wheeljack moved on, saying, "Ultra Magnus was just as reserved as Optimus, but . . . mh, yeah, I guess they're sorta alike." Putting his hands on his hips, Wheeljack frowned, cocking his head. "Mags was a peculiar sort of guy. He never really liked giving orders—he'd rather be the one GETTING the orders. He liked to act like he was just a soldier, but he made one hell of a commander. He always knew what to do, how to handle any situation." Wheeljack smirked suddenly. "Courageous and self-sacrificing—that's how he was like Optimus. But while Optimus's spark is clearly all about this leadership thing, Ultra Magnus didn't have his spark in it. He'd have gladly just have been a soldier and nothing more."

Miko popped the popsicle from her mouth loudly, licking her lips with a tongue that was dying equally brown from the chocolate flavor. "Well, that tin can wasn't too bright in the head was he? So he was practically MADE for leadership and he didn't want to do it?" She snorted. "Somebody should have kicked him up the aft and set him straight."

Wheeljack couldn't help but bellow with laughter at Miko's crude thoughts of Ultra Magnus. He grinned down at her, resting his arms down. "Nah, if you met him, you'd like him—but you'd tell him to relax all the time. He's not much for partying—ANOTHER thing he's got in common with Prime. Workaholic."

Miko shrugged. "Hey, if you've got a stick up your—well, your butt, you've got a stick up your butt. Someone's gotta pull it out one day for you to enjoy yourself." Wheeljack chuckled again. Pushing herself upright in the seat, she asked, "Okay, tell me about someone else. I've went and forgot all of their names again."

"Impactor," Wheeljack said. He let a thoughtful sound grumble through his systems. "Well, actually . . . We nicknamed him Pit's Slag."

Miko all but choked on her popsicle. "Hell's Shit?" she asked back, coughing deeply.

Wheeljack frowned. "Now hey! You're not supposed to be saying it!"

After coughing a moment more, she waved a hand. "You said it first," she accused with a rasp. "Why the heck would you call him that?"

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Cause his mouth was dirty as slag and was mean enough to make the pit shake. He HATED superiors and made it clear. He'd cuss them out, Miko, he would have pushed even OPTIMUS to his limits. This guy was a dime a dozen, and he made it known. Mean as a snake he could be, and the cussing didn't help." Wheeljack suddenly gave a barking laugh. "Guess that's why the superiors eventually put ol' Mags in charge."

Miko laughed, the sound scratching from her throat that was still getting over its abuse from before. "Tell me about someone else!"

"Springer," Wheeljack said next. A grin cracked his face. "We always told him with a name like that, we didn't have to give him a nickname! If I'd've known about Earth's "Tigger" you betcha I would have started calling him that!" Miko sniggled, and Wheeljack was empowered to continue, "This kid thought he had all the tricks and plays under his belt. A cocky fragger with those dead-pan sarcastic quips just to lighten the moment. Good kid, confident, cheery, and has a wicked swing. He's actually a triple changer—besides his bipedal mode, he also had a flight and a land mode. Sick, huh? Wish I had been equipped with triple changing techniques."

Miko's little jaw popped. "You mean there's some of you that have three modes?"

Wheeljack nodded. "Yeah, but only Springer was a triple changer. Now, we DID have two Jumpstarters, Topspin and Twin Twist."

"What's a Jumpstarter?" Miko cut in quickly. She cleared her throat again, and threw her popsicle stick at Jack. The boy snapped at her, but she ignored him and picked up her tea to start sipping. Good! She was keeping that popsicle down! Now, if she could just KEEP it down . . . The tea would help her sore throat, too, but a big yawn gave her away as tired.

"A Jumpstarter is a Cybertronian that can transform twice as fast as us lug-nuts. Just takes them an instant and," he snapped his fingers, "bang! They're done. Most useful on the field of battle. Now, if you thought Impactor was mean, nah, he was more bark than bite. TWIN TWIST was mean as a snake, and was more bite than bark. Called him Unicron's Baby. He was ready to get his drills into ANYTHING that moved, and Ultra Magnus was always concerned about his bloodlust that rivaled Decepticons." Wheeljack shrugged. "Me? I didn't care. He got the job done."

Miko snickered, and Wheeljack merely smiled at her with a twinkle in his blue optics. "His brother Topspin, our weirdo medic, was more into fighting nature than Decepticons. Called him Rusty Aft after he tried to take on some acid rain, Rusty for short." Wheeljack snorted, shaking his head. "Crazy idiot. He was lucky he didn't get his circuits fried."

Sipping her tea, Miko smiled. "Yeah, he sounds like the kind of idiot I'd hang around."

Wheeljack grinned at her. "Yeah, well if you want a miniature Optimus Prime, just look to Pyro. He acted just like him—self-sacrificing, brave, steadfast, on the front lines—only he did it with half the success that Optimus does. I can't tell you how many times that fool was tattered beyond measure trying to protect us all." He rolled his optics. "Called him Prim in mock of the name Prime that he acted like." Wheeljack frowned suddenly, looking down on the two humans. "Don't you tell Optimus we mocked the Prime name."

"My lips are sealed," Miko rasped immediately, making a locking gesture on her lips before taking another sip of the ginger tea. Jack just nodded his agreement, zipping his lips.

"Rotorstorm was a mean slagger too," Wheeljack said, watching idly as Miko finally set the tea down, curling back down comfortable on the couch. Ah, the drugs were taking effect. She was going to be out like a light in no time. "Ruthless, powerful, and he dug in deep right to the very end. Brilliant strategies. Hard to hit him, and could listen in on Decepticon communications—VERY useful trick. Called him CPU cause he had the personality of one. Man that guy was no fun at all."

Miko snickered softly. "He just needed a dose of me, that's all. He'd've perked up then."

Wheeljack smiled at her. "Yeah, I bet. Roadbuster we called Tank. Just simple Tank cause of his alt mode, but also because this fragger was armored to the teeth. He looked mean, and was mean on the battlefield. He was a powerful and charismatic fighter, but for how he lit up in the war zone, he didn't know what to do with himself when he wasn't fighting." Wheeljack frowned again, thinking about the mech. He put his hands on his hips. "He always got a little withdrawn or depressed—definitely the quietest of us all—but he sure knew how to inspire people on the battlefield. I guess I was probably the closest one to him—after all, he was my favorite sparring partner."

Wheeljack frowned to himself. Yeah, memories still hurt. He fixated his gaze on Miko who was struggling to keep her eyes open. A pucker marred her brow.

"Wait . . . I thought there were twelve of you guys? I counted you and Bulkhead . . . isn't that only eleven?"

He nodded. "Yeah, last is ol' Time Bomb. Whirl. You ever heard that saying, sometimes crazy works?" When Miko shook her head tiredly, Wheeljack chuckled to himself and picked up one of her blankets, spreading it over her. "Yeah, well this guy was the epitome of that phrase. This idiot WAS like a ticking time bomb, doing the craziest things on the battlefield. Sometimes he'd get hurt, but he didn't care. He just LOVED the job so much. Adrenaline junkie. You two would have gotten along magnificently."

Miko laughed minutely, almost muffled by the weight of her own sleep pulling her down. Wheeljack's gaze softened when she mumbled, "Okay, so now that I've heard who they all are . . . Tell me some stories? You and Bulkhead always had the greatest stories . . ."

Wheeljack chuckled quietly, rubbing the top of her head tenderly. "I doubt you could stay awake for any," he murmured.

The way her face struggled to scowl was precious. "I can too stay awake . . ."

Shaking his head, Wheeljack said, "Well, I'll tell you how Whirl got the nickname Time Bomb. We were on Tarn during the Great War, one of Tarn's smaller outposts, but the Decepticons were swarming all over us, like buzzards over the carrion. Bulkhead, Whirl, and I were all stuck with our backs against the wall, relying on Pyro and Rotorstorm to get their lazy afts over to us—still don't know what in pit took them so long . . ." He shook his head in dismay at the memory, continuing, "Well, before our reinforcements caught up with us, Whirl got the big idea to catch a grenade. Pit, he didn't know what kind it was, it could have been an impact grenade for all he knew, but the glitching tin can went and KICKED the thing up to the ceiling right when I was jumping up for a strike on one of the 'Cons." A small smile played at Wheeljack's lips seeing that Miko had already fallen asleep.

"Well," he quietly told her sleeping form, "it wouldn't have been so bad. The grenade was going to fly right by me, but it was a timer bomb, and it exploded before it could fly all the way up. So, instead of bringing the roof down on us like some half-witted lug nut, that time bomb exploded right next to me. Nearly took my head off!

"And that," he summarized quickly with a small grin, "is when I started calling Whirl Time Bomb."