After they locked the door behind us, Mr. Marshall gestured to a chair and had one of the MP's call for a woman to assist them.

"Do you mind if we get started while we wait?"

"Sure, I guess," I hesitantly answered. "We can start."

There were the basic information questions – my name, age, date of birth. A woman I didn't recognize joined us as he was getting to the more pointed questions – verifying what date Ironhide first revealed himself to me, asking if they'd ever given any indication before about what they were, and then the open-ended, "So tell us what happened that day."

The smart-aft answer or the terse one? Deciding I'd better follow Ironhide's advice for now, I said, "We went to the backyard and Ironhide transformed."

"Just like that?"

"Pretty much."

"And how did you react?"

"Badly." I grimaced at having to acknowledge the truth.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Marshall said gently, misinterpreting my expression and scooting a box of tissues my way. "Don't worry about what the others will think or do. You're safe here with us."

Buying myself a second to think, I accepted the box and reached for a tissue. I was safe with these guys? Implying that I wasn't safe when I was away from them? That I wasn't safe with the Autobots? I pretended to blow my nose. Definitely digging for dirt on somebody. It was probably best to play along. "Thanks."

"I'm sure it's difficult to relive such traumatic experiences, but your honesty will help everyone."

'Yeah right,' I sarcastically thought. But I nodded my head. "Okay."

"So when you say badly…?"

Where exactly was he going? And how could I outmaneuver him? Looking down at the tissue as I twisted it in my hands, I repeated, "Badly."

"Yes, but can you elaborate?"

"I screamed like a girl. It was humiliating." And that's how I could divert him, I suddenly realized. Make it all about me. I fought back the evil grin, with only a flicker of a smile slipping though.

"Because you were scared?"

"No, it was humiliating that I screamed."

"But why did you scream?"

"Because I was surprised. It's not like I was expecting my dad's truck to be a sentient robot."

Marshall looked down at the report in front of him, reading, "Miss Lennox appears to be deeply frightened of the Autobots." Looking back up, he asked, "Are you saying this report is inaccurate?"

"Hello. He's my dad and I'm a teenage girl. Of course it's inaccurate! When it comes to me, he's really clueless sometimes. I mean, like you wouldn't believe. He didn't want me to get earrings – ever – and when I turned twelve, we had this huge argument and…"

"Thank you, Miss Lennox," he interrupted. "I believe I'm getting a clearer picture now." He took a deep breath. "Backing up a little. You say the Autobot Ironhide gave you a cell phone for your birthday. What can you tell me about the phone?"

Boys bragged about features; girls just used their electronics. This man must have zero experience with teenage girls. I critically looked over his sagging physique and coffee-stained teeth – even when he was a teenager, he probably didn't have any experience with teenage girls. "Yeah, it's a sweet phone!" I gushed. "I can talk for a full day – and I mean a full day non-stop talking and websurfing – without needing to charge it. And great reception. Mom and I went on a daytrip to Mumbai and even on the plane I could still get reception!"

"But what about the phone itself?" Marshall persisted. "What features does the phone itself have?"

Like I'd just blurt out that it was Autobot-enabled. "Qwerty, video calling, satellite internet, and the pictures and video are as crisp as a real camera. And it'll survive anything. And I mean anything. I even dropped it in the ocean at one point, but it still works like a charm."

"So what upgrades and enhancements have the Autobots done on it?"

"None that I've seen. But I'm not a techie at all. Jolt had to set everything up for me when Ironhide got me a laptop and wireless office last Christmas. I can use the stuff okay, but when you start taking off the panels and mucking about with the hardware, that's all way above my head."

"They gave you a laptop?" he asked, and a weaselly light glinted in his eyes.

Slag. I saw the question behind that noose coming a mile off – he wanted my Autobot-enhanced laptop for himself. But practically everything I owned was Autobot-enhanced or at least Autobot-purchased. Every stitch of clothing I had on right then came from Arcee…That gave me an idea.

I walked right into the noose just for kicks. "And the wireless office, don't forget. Printer, monitor, keyboard, mouse. It's great!"

"Would you mind if I examined the laptop?"

"Actually, I kind of do. It was a Christmas present, after all. I mean, he gave me one of those new Wii's the year before. You're welcome to come over and play it – I kick even Chromia's aft on virtual boxing – but if you want to take everything of mine the Autobots have ever touched, I won't have anything left."

"I don't care about the Wii," he hissed.

I pouted, enjoying the fact that I was getting to him. "Well I do! It's passé now, but he had to pull a lot of strings to get it to me that year and in time for Christmas. It was very nice of him. And they've all given me stuff. I mean, Arcee gave me the bra and panties I'm wearing right now. Do you need to see those, too?"

He kind of choked, and I looked down, hiding the smirk. No wonder Mr. Witwicky wanted to make a living playing politics. It was fun!

"That will be unnecessary, Miss Lennox," he finally said. "Just the laptop."

"Frankly, sir, I'd find confiscating my bra to be less intrusive. And less inconvenient, too. My class notes are on that laptop, and all my music and pictures and…"

"I'm not confiscating anything," he answered, trying to sound pleasantly patient – and failing. "I just wanted to see it. I'm sure it's top-of-the-line. Nice webcam?"

There was an edge to his voice this time; he'd set his sights on the laptop and I knew I wasn't going to be able to distract him away from it. Not if the bra and panties thing didn't do the trick. I could feel the weight of it in my backpack resting against my leg, and I suddenly wished I'd left it with my dad, too. I'd be a lot more confident with it safely out of Marshall's reach because, if Wheeljack hadn't upgraded it, I was a Decepticon. "Yep," I answered, switching back to Ironhide's tactics of one-word answers.

"Anything else special about it?"

"Great speakers."

"Why don't you pull it out and let me hear? What's your favorite music?"

"Battery's dead," I improvised.

Marshall gave me a stern look and then glanced at one of the MP's. "Get it."

The man moved toward me, and I felt a flash of terror…until I remembered Ironhide was watching. He'd bust through the door if they tried anything. Kinda made a girl feel bold, knowing that. To the MP, I said, "You know who my father and best friends are. Do you really want to risk roughing me up?"

The man hesitated and looked uncertainly back at Marshall.

"Any other questions, or am I free to go?" I prompted him. Round one goes to Annabelle Lennox!

"Going back to 'reacting badly,'" he said, and I could feel the shift in his strategy. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Too bad for him that Mudflap could be more intimidating. "You didn't speak to the Autobots for two and a half weeks, and then suddenly you're best buddies."

"We made up," I cautiously said, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"Ah yes. The day they brought you to the hangar. Tell me about that day."

"It was a day right from the Pit," I said, echoing my dad's words.

"Explain."

"Well 'the Pit' is the Autobot equivalent of hell…"

"Why was it a day from hell?"

"Ironhide almost died."

"And you suddenly saw the light after they hauled you into that so-called medic's repair shop?"

Where in the world was he going with this? I blinked a couple of times, completely baffled. "What do you think happened?"

"None of your attitude. Just answer it."

"No attitude," I said slowly. "I'm genuinely confused."

"I'm the one asking the questions, young lady."

Now who was copping an attitude? "Yeah, I know. And I've answered them all. It's your turn. What do you think happened?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. All I want is the honest truth from you."

I sat back, studying him. Ratchet, he was the key. The man was particularly hostile toward Ratchet. Why? Maybe I could make him show me where he was going. Besides, all I was telling was the truth. "I saw Ratchet working on Ironhide and I realized that I still cared about him."

"Cared about him?" he pounced.

Sweet Cybertron, the man wasn't thinking that,was he! "He's my adopted grandpa, of course I care about him."

That caught Marshall flat-footed. "Adopted…grandpa?"

"Well, not officially, but yeah, that's how I think of him. Aaron Hyde's been there for me for as long as I can remember. It's not like I can have extended family here on Diego Garcia, so the Autobots have kind of taken over that role. When I didn't talk to them for two and a half weeks, it was just a family spat. Of course I came around. Even when you're angry with them, you still gotta love family."

Understanding lit his eyes. "Aaron Hyde was there for you, but what about Ironhide? Didn't you feel a little…betrayed?"

The little fragger – he was trying to turn me against them. "Of course I felt betrayed, until I was around them enough to realize Hyde was the same no matter what shape he's in. People are people. Like you. You could turn into a toad and nobody would have any trouble knowing it was you. Besides, it was slimy government liaisons that forced them to lie to me in the first place."

He narrowed his eyes at me, his frown bordering on a sneer. "Aren't you a little firebrand."

"I'm the daughter of Will and Sarah Lennox and I was raised by fembots and Ironhide. What the slag did you expect?"

"A little more respect," he said shortly, "what with you being a military brat."

"Whoa. Knife to the heart with that one," I smirked. Round two goes to Annabelle with bonus points for reducing him to name calling! "Any other questions, or can I go now?"

"What happened in the med bay," he flatly demanded.

"Like I would know," I shot back. "I'm failing biology and I didn't take Auto Shop."

"What happened to you in the med bay?"

"I saw Arcee, climbed a platform to look at Ironhide and then got kicked out. Then my daddy took me to the cafeteria and bought me some apple juice."

"Tell me about getting kicked out. Why?"

"Why should I tell you?" I asked, intentionally misconstruing the question. "I'm not sure."

"Why did you get kicked out?"

"Because Ratchet didn't want me there."

"Why didn't Ratchet want you there?"

And again my dad's words echoed in my mind. "Because he loves me."

"He loves you?" A greedy, triumphant smile spread across his face.

Oh, I was so going to yank his chain over that one. "Yeah, we're betrothed and you're going to be the main course along with Han Solo for the engagement party – what do you think? Did you miss the memo? I'm the Autobots' collective kid sister."

"Of course." He was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "So…being their medic, I understand he's treated you frequently over the years."

"Sure."

"And did any of that treatment involve anything…unconventional?"

Unconventional? Is that what he was driving at? "I think you're confusing the Autobots and the Borg. I'm one-hundred-percent organic and Ratchet himself would slag anybody who wanted to make me otherwise."

"I meant something…intimate."

My hands clenched into fists and I reined in my temper. Snarky, I reminded myself. Snarky teenage brat – that's who I needed to be. "When's the last time your car touched you intimately?" I said sarcastically. And then I couldn't help adding, "Or maybe you're the one doing the touching?"

"Oh. Defensive."

"No, I'm incredulous. For the record, I have never been treated with anything other than respect and kindness by the Autobots." Except Skids and Mudflap, but that's different, I added to myself with mentally-crossed fingers. "I wish the same could be said of you governmental jerks."

He clasped his hand to his chest and mockingly exclaimed, "I'm wounded!"

"No," I answered, a Lennox edge to my voice. "Wounded is what you'll be if you don't either let me go or ask some questions worth answering. I've seen Ironhide on the proving grounds, and if you had seen him, too, you wouldn't be keeping me here against your best interest."

"Tough talk," he sneered.

I cockily tipped my head in a "bring it" attitude. "Tough walk, too." Arcee and Chromia may have been training me on a lark, but I knew enough dirty tricks to make short work of him if it came to that. The guys with the guns were another story, though. I'd just have to trust my 'bots to take care of them. "You gonna ask something reasonable or am I free to go?"

He sat back, appraising me. "Where did you go after you left the med bay?"

"I told you. We got a snack in the break room or whatever it is."

"And then where did you go?"

Wheeljack's lab. I hesitated, nervous again. Answer the question, not the noose, Ironhide's words echoed softly in my mind.

"If you want to know, ask my dad. He was there. I don't know that part of the base at all." Which wasn't true. I'd lived here for days on end when 'Hide was still in stasis. But I'd only seen the lab and the area with the offices once.

He leaned forward on his elbows. "Your father has already reported that you went to Wheeljack's lab. Tell me about it," he pleasantly invited.

"No," I flatly answered.

"Why not?"

"Because I was given to understand it's classified. You want to know about it, ask someone with clearance to answer."

"Surely you can tell me about the observation lounge."

"Surely you know what classified means," I shot back, rising to my feet. "And you know what? I'm done. Either let me go or do something official to keep me here."

"Sit down," he snarled, looking meaningfully at one of the guards. "Or I'll make you."

I slowly sank to my seat again, a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. The Autobots weren't watching. They would have blown through that locked door just now if they had been. I was on my own.

"That's better," he almost purred, no doubt seeing the dismay in my eyes. "Now. About Wheeljack's lab…describe the observation lounge for me."

I resisted the urge to nervously bite my lip. "No."

"I'm not going to ask again."

"Good," I snarked back, "because I'm tired of repeating myself all the time."

"Just the exterior. I've seen it myself and the doors intrigued me…"

I'd wager Ironhide's cannons that he hadn't. And if I was going down, I may as well do it with flare. I lifted my hand, palm out, and looked away. Talk to the hand.

"If you want to play it that way…" He pulled out an official-looking piece of paper and pushed it across the table toward me. "You are hereby served with a subpoena of deposition – "

He paused mid-sentence, staring at something past my shoulder. Turning I saw R.C. and Hyde standing on either side of the door. Hyde menacingly crossed his arms, while R.C. coolly said, "As per section twelve, sub-section E, part 2a of the NEST Spouses and Dependants Code, all court proceedings regarding minor dependants such as Annabelle Lennox – military and civilian, criminal and administrative – must be in accordance with the appropriate jurisdiction's legal code. You have violated applicable restrictions regarding minors, and you have just violated Miranda requirements."

"Come with us, Annabelle," Hyde said, opening the locked door and holding it for me.

It was evil. It was immature. It was probably not the Autobot way. But I gave Marshall a gloating smirk as I stood and shouldered my backpack. Without a word, I turned and sauntered out the door. From the corner of my eye, I saw R.C. reach forward and snatch up the official paper like it was a gauntlet before following me out.