A/N: happy Friday!

Thanks, as always, to fabulous reviewers of the previous chapter: Quickening, kvanausdoll, guest, guest, , SkyeJ, and DogtagXD! I appreciate every word :D

We're getting close to 75, guys, and the little ficlet (well, little - all nearly four thousand words of it) is done and ready. So keep an eye out for that when the mark at 75 reviews rolls around. I think it will be published under "you had me at 'extras'" or something along those lines. It will be posted as a separate new story to not mess up the continuum of this one.

Oh, and guidelines for the Mark 100 requests will be posted on my profile, so keep an eye on that when we get closer to the mark.

Warning: the plot bunny spawned a fluffy chapter with this one.

Disclaimer: I know who First Aid owns ;)

Chapter 14: Reunion

"Hey Isobel, how long is it until Christmas?"

I pause, fork halfway to my mouth, staring dumbly at the blond holoform. "Huh?"

"You heard," Bumblebee grins, taking a seat across from me. "How long until Christmas?"

I shake my head at the look on his face. "About five or six weeks, I'd say. Why?"

The smirk I get for that is downright diabolic. "Oh, I just want to make sure we have time to plan the party."

"Another party?" I laugh, pointing at him with my fork. "You going to help with the whole clean-up this time? Isn't it a bit early to start thinking of Christmas, anyway?"

"You may laugh," he says, in mock-seriousness. "But I have it on good authority that it's never too early to start planning the Christmas party."

"Oh yeah?" I take another bite of my food, swallowing before I continue. "And whose authority is that?"

"Sarah's, Lennox's wife," he says airily. "Lennox says she always finish getting everyone's Christmas presents before the first of December, too." He looks around as if checking if anyone's listening to us – fat chance of that, we're in the human mess hall, I've been ignored here for weeks – and then winks at me. "So have you gotten your present for First Aid yet? What are you getting him?"

Okay. Dodging that question.

"I haven't gotten anyone's Christmas presents yet, Bumblebee," I reply, taking another mouthful of food. That's an excellent ploy for time, usually, but it doesn't really deter Bumblebee. Not that there's much that can.

"No? You're not an early shopper?"

I shrug. "No need to be early when you're only buying one or two presents." I frown slightly at that. "I guess I should probably start earlier this year, when I think about it, since there are more presents to buy than before. I kind of want to get everyone something."

"Only one or two presents?" he asks, sounding incredulous. "What, you don't believe in gift-giving?"

I point at him with my fork again. "That's assuming. And it's rude, too – did the 'Cons rub off on you? No," I shake my head. "The last, oh, seven years I guess, I only bought presents for my father and brother. After they passed away, I've given money to charity instead."

His face falls. "Pit, I'm sorry, Isobel. I didn't mean that the way it came out."

"'S okay." I shake my head, take another mouthful of food before putting my fork down on the empty plate. "I know." I do need a new topic of conversation, though. "So when did you get out of med bay?"

He leans back, tilting the chair onto its back legs. "Me and Blue were finally released today. We were the last, too. Everyone's back to normal again."

I'm not. And I'm probably reading more into it than he actually meant, but it stings a bit to think that they've gone back to normal without me. I hope I'm overreacting.

"Good," I smile. "It hasn't been the same with everyone laid up." I stand up, and so does he, taking my tray before I have the chance to.

"Is that why you're eating in here again, by yourself?"

"Not that much point carting my food over to another building to eat by myself there, is it?" I give a half-shrug as he dumps my tray. "Thanks."

"Sure. No, I guess not. No one's been there?"

I shake my head. "Nope. I've been by a fair few times, but it's always empty. Rec room, too."

"Huh. I guess everyone must have been recharging." He shrugs, grins at me. I recognize an attempt to lighten the mood, which seems to have gotten grim all by itself. "So what are you doing this weekend? Do you and First Aid have plans?"

So much for that attempt. Another question I have to dodge. "I haven't thought about it," I reply. Which is completely and utterly untrue, of course. "Guess I'll take a run or something, maybe watch a movie."

Bumblebee may be too energetic to notice what's going on in front of him sometimes – for a scout, he can be surprisingly dense in private - but now he finally catches on. He stops, turns to look at me, a slight frown marring his perfect forehead. "You don't have plans? I know for a fact that there were plans made that included you."

I shrug. "Not that I've heard of. Then again, you're the first 'Bot I've talked to since you landed on Tuesday."

Unfortunately, that part's true. I went back to my office on Wednesday in case someone wandered in, but it's been as empty in the last three days as it was in the two weeks they were gone. And with their mess hall and rec room deserted as well, I've mostly just gone home instead. The island's been as empty as it was last week – if I hadn't known they were back, I wouldn't have believed they actually were. It's freaky.

Bumblebee stares at me. "But it's Friday."

I nod, shoot him a half-smile. "Yes. Yes, it is."

"It's been three days."

Yeah, you don't have to tell me that. I keep count.

"You're seriously telling me that you haven't talked to a single Autobot since we got back here? Not even First Aid?"

I shrug. "I'm seriously telling you that. But as you said, they've probably all been recharging or something. First Aid's probably been stuck in med bay. With the last 'Bots released today, there must have been a lot of work to do."

"And you didn't go by med bay, did you."

Wow. Scarily observant, all of a sudden. I'm not sure I want to answer that. I certainly don't want to tell him that the reason I haven't been there is because the idea of meeting First Aid's brothers again makes me really nervous.

So I just shrug again.

He takes my hand, a determined look on his face. "Come on."

I raise an eyebrow at him, but let him tug me along. "Come on where?"

"Our hangar," he replies. "If no one's coming to where you are, I'm bringing you to them. I don't want you to think we've forgotten all about you."

"I didn't think you had." Not rationally, I didn't. Though I kind of did anyway.

Bumblebee pulls me along to where his alt mode is waiting. The driver's side door opens as we approach.

"In you get," he grins, before vanishing.

I chuckle a bit at that, but I get in the car.

"Welcome to the Camaro experience," Bumblebee's voice says from the radio. "The original iconic car! Please fasten your seatbelt and keep your arms and legs inside of the vehicle at all times."

The seatbelt fastens on its own. Apprehensively, I take hold of the steering wheel – mainly to have something to hold on to. "Bee, what are you – whoa!"

It's not the sound of the tires spinning on the gravel. It's not the breakneck speed he puts up, throwing himself around corners and through narrow passages with reckless abandon.

It's the laughing.

Bumblebee's laughing loudly and wildly all the time as he careens down the roadways, heading for one of the hangars. It reminds me of Sideswipe's mad cackling as he stood with Decepticon guts covering his silver sheen.

When he finally stops outside one of the hangars, and open the door to let me out, I feel physically ill. I dump down on the ground, head on my knees.

"Isobel?" Bumblebee transforms next to me. "You okay?"

"I cannot believe they let you drive on normal roads," I say accusingly. "You're insane."

He chuckles lightly at that, scoops me up off the ground. "Sorry. I should have asked before driving like that."

I will my stomach to hold on to my dinner. At least Bumblebee tries to carry me carefully.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he grins. "Well, mine, Blue's, Sides and Sunny's, Skids and Mudflap's, I guess. And then through the back door is the other half of it, that's Mirage, Blaster and the cassettes, Arcee, a few others."

I look around. They certainly don't have a lot of privacy. The large room seems to be divided into living and sleeping with the sleeping quarters in the back, but every enormous bunk is in plain view from the entrance, and the door to the other half of the hangar is in the center of the room, so you have to walk in between all the beds to get to it.

"Nice," I comment. "Airy."

Bumblebee snorts. "Yep, no room for secrets in here."

He carries me over to the large sofas set in a loose circle. With a grin, I realize that I recognize at least one of them from our movie night.

Bluestreak's sitting in one of the others, talking to a red and white Autobot with the nose cone of a plane sticking up behind his head. They both turn at our approach.

"Hey guys, I brought someone who's been alone for three weeks!" Bumblebee's grinning as he puts me down on the table.

"Isobel! Hey, have you met Fireflight? I guess you haven't if you've been alone for three weeks. This is Fireflight, he's one of the Aerialbots! We picked them up in Guatemala, but I don't know what they were doing there. Apparently it's secret." Bluestreak shoots me a quick grin that fades into puzzlement. "Were you really all alone? I thought you would hang out with the humans. It's nice to see you again, though! How have you been?"

Well, Bluestreak hasn't changed much. That's a relief.

"I have not been alone for three weeks!" I take a swat at Bumblebee's hand. "Not completely. I've missed you guys though, it's been empty without you. But I've made a new friend, and he's been giving me shooting lessons, actually. So now I'm soon fit to go to the range with you." I grin at Bluestreak, before turning to the shyly smiling flier sitting next to him on the sofa. "Hey, Fireflight, nice to meet you. I'm Isobel, I'm the base psychologist."

He nods at that, still smiling at me. Maybe this gestalt at least is okay with me. "I know, I've heard of you. It's nice to meet you too! I like your hair!"

"Heh, thanks!" I drop to sit crosslegged at the table, facing him. "So if you've heard of me, what have you heard?"

"Oh, all sorts of things! Jazz said you had a leash on the twins, I don't know quite what that means. Did you put collars on them?"

I have a brief mental flash of Sunstreaker with a spiky dog collar on his neck, and crack up. Behind me, Bumblebee's laughing loudly.

Poor Fireflight just looks puzzled.

"Sorry, Fireflight," I giggle when I find my breath again. "No, I didn't."

"Isobel let them know how to behave," Bluestreak smirks. "Sunstreaker sulked for a week. They've been much easier to handle after that, too. I don't know if you've noticed, Isobel, you were avoiding them after all, but they've at times been downright nice. Not that Sides isn't nice most of the time, he can be a bit pushy is all, but even Sunny's been almost mellow."

"Mellow, huh?" I grin at that. "Good for him. And good for the rest of you, I'd guess."

"So where are our terrible twins?" Bumblebee asks, looking around the hangar. "Wash racks?"

"Sunstreaker wishes," Fireflight giggles. "They had to report to Prime. Silverbolt says it was their turn. Everyone's been reporting in after he came back online, since he couldn't take reports after the battle."

"I saw you guys on TV," I interject, pulling my knees up to my chin and hugging my legs. "It was ghastly."

"It had rough bits," Bumblebee concedes. Then he shoots me a feral grin. "Fun, though. I've never been allowed to go straight at a gestalt team before."

"And one that had already downed Defensor at that," Fireflight adds. "That was intense."

Bluestreak is looking at me, eyeing my posture. "You shouldn't have watched if it upset you, Isobel."

"Yeah, right," I scoff. "I had to find out how you were doing, didn't I? I wanted to be prepared, in case..."

Bluestreak tilts his head. "In case?"

"In case someone didn't make it home," I admit. "I had to know, I had to be prepared. Also in case someone needed me for extra appointments upon your return."

Bumblebee just stares at me. "Like we wouldn't have told you before we came home if we'd lost somebody."

I shrug. "Yeah, you might have. But I couldn't not watch when they started showing the fighting. I worried."

Bumblebee transforms suddenly. His holoform manifests with his arms already around me. "I'm sorry, Isobel. We don't want you to worry."

My first holoform hug in three weeks. It's heaven. I hug him back just as tightly. "Well, if you didn't want me to worry about you, you should have stayed away from me in the first place. Of course I worry."

"I think it's nice," Fireflight puts in. Bumblebee eyes him incredulously, and he shrugs. "I don't mean that I want her to worry. But it's nice to be worried about. It shows that she cares." He grins at me. "It's like Silverbolt. He always frets when one of us is away or on patrol without him. I know if he was stuck with watching us going to fight and he had to stay behind, he'd go slightly mad. The Protectobots are the same. Hot Spot was constantly anxious when First Aid first came here without the rest of them. Even Blades was uneasy, though he'd never own up to it. I'd bet if you'd -" He leans back suddenly, frowns slightly. That's the same inward-focused look that the 'Bots tend to wear when they're accessing the internet.

Bluestreak tilts his head and prods Fireflight carefully. "Your brothers?"

"Yeah," the flier sighs, smiling ruefully. "Prowl wants the new gestalts to come in and talk duty rosters. I have to go." He stands up, then lays a hand on one of Bluestreak's doorwings. "You still showing me around the base later?"

I know I didn't imagine the slight shudder that runs through Bluestreak's frame. "You know it," he grins. "Meet me when you're done."

A slight squeeze to the doorwing, a grin to me and Bumblebee, and Fireflight leaves.

And I know that look on Bluestreak's face. That's the universal – for once, in the true meaning of the word – look of 'I really like that guy'.

Bumblebee catches my eye and winks, and I grin back. Oh yes, Bluestreak, we saw that.

"Nice to have the Aerialbots back on base, isn't it," Bumblebee says. He's aiming for a neutral tone, but that shit-eating grin spoils it.

Bluestreak starts, tearing his focus from the door Fireflight just left through. "Oh, mute it," he replies good-naturedly. "It's none of your business, anyway."

Bumblebee chuckles, then turns to me. "So are you ready?"

"Ready? For what?" I eye that smug look on his face. It doesn't bode well for me. "Are we planning the Christmas party already?"

"No, silly," he laughs. "We're going to med bay to see First Aid. Since Bluestreak is resisting my matchmaking abilities, I'll have to work with you instead."

"I do not need a matchmaker." I'm trying to be as stern as I can, but that twinkle in his eye makes it difficult.

"Says the girl who hasn't spoken to her date in three weeks."

I shake my head at the grinning holoform. "Your grasp of human culture is failing. You need to watch more movies."

"Is that an offer?"

"It's a threat," I say, quirking an eyebrow at him. "I'll have you up to your pretty eyes in rom-coms before you can say 'match'."

Bumblebee's laughing now, loudly enough that I'm leaning slightly away from him. "Come on, Isobel," he says, standing up and pulling me to my feet. "We have a Protectobot to go find."

The med bay is quieter today. Bumblebee's consented to carrying me instead of driving – I don't want to arrive at med bay looking like I need medical aid, that's not why we're here.

The relief at not seeing anyone waiting outside is almost a physical thing.

"Silverbolt says First Aid was supposed to do inventory with Ratchet," Bumblebee says, putting me down. "The other Protectobots are still talking to Prowl." He prods me gently towards the entrance to the building. "Go get him."

I turn back, quirk an eyebrow at him. There's something I can't figure out. "Why are you so invested in this anyway? What's it to you?"

He smiles, a slight curve of his mouth. "Because you two on that dance floor were the cutest thing I've ever seen. And I'm an utter sucker for cute, embarrassingly enough." Those blue eyes wink at me. "See? Perfect mastery of Earth slang." Another slight push to my back, yellow fingers oh-so-careful. "Now go."

I turn, walk towards the doorway, push them open to walk through.

Inside, it's quiet. I walk through the outer hallway until I get to med bay proper, pushing open the second set of doors.

The first Autobot I see is not the one I really wanted to find.

"Hey, Ratchet. Welcome back."

"Isobel," he grunts. "Good to be back. Can I help you with something? You hurt?" He focuses on me, and I'm willing to bet my pants that I'm being scanned. "Some old, half-healed scratches, a bit of bruising, nothing recent and worth bothering me about. So what's up?"

"Um." I bounce on my toes a bit. "I actually came to see First Aid."

"Oh, you did, did you?" He frowns at me before shaking his head with a small smile. "Younglings. There's no holding you back." He raises a hand to point behind him. "He's in Storage 3. Tell him he's done for today, will you? Kid's done enough work for two mechs this last week. He deserves a break."

I nod, shoot him a tentative smile. "I will. Thanks, Ratchet."

Walking in the direction he indicated, I go through another set of doors and find myself in a storage area of sorts. The walls are covered in shelving, each one taller than me and crammed full of different metal equipment.

At the back of the room, a tall, red and white Autobot is sorting through a box of something. My breath catches in my throat. I make myself walk closer.

"Hey, First Aid. Welcome back."

The clutter of the box falling to the floor would probably be funny if I could find it in me to focus on it. But that blue visor suddenly aimed in my direction has taken all of my attention.

"Isobel," he breathes, voice almost staticky. "You're here."

I smile at that, a small lift to one corner of my mouth. "Of course. You were the ones who left to fight a war, remember? I've been right here for three weeks."

"Heh," he chuckles, rubbing his helms in a very human gesture. "I guess you're right about that." He takes a hesitant step towards me. "So how have you been?"

"Oh, you know," I shrug. "Kept busy. Running. Watching sci-fi shows. Brushing up on my history. Or yours, I guess."

"Well, that's good." His smile is also a mere quirk of mouth plates. "So what brings you to med bay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm good."

What brings me? Honestly, what does he think brings me? The interesting medical equipment? Ratchet's sourly attitude? (And oh, I hope that Optimus can fix that, maybe I need to give them both a nudge in the rear bumper.)

I guess being dense in the face of emotion isn't something that's reserved for the human race. Though in present company I think I know which one's slowest on the uptake, and it's not him, not by a long shot.

I don't notice that I'm biting my lip until it starts hurting. Apparently, I'm nervous about this. "I wanted to say hi. Welcome you back."

"Thanks." Another small step in my direction. "It's been chaotic, these last few days. I haven't had the chance to talk to you." He ducks his head, visor flashing in my direction again; the same gesture that has him looking up through long eyelashes when in holoform. "Though I really wanted to."

"I know it's been crazy for you," I murmur, taking a step of my own. "Everyone was injured. I offered to help, but it looked like you had it well in hand." No way I'm spoiling this by saying his brothers practically threw me out.

"I didn't know you'd been by already," he says, hesitantly. "When were you here?"

So they didn't tell him. I wonder why. "Oh, on Tuesday, right after you landed." I try to wave it away. "Prowl told me that you had everything in hand and that everyone was okay, so I figured I'd give you a few days." I look at his visor. Here goes nothing. "I'm glad you're back. I missed you."

He stops, stares at me. Then he folds in on himself, and the holoform appears in front of the ambulance. "I missed you, too," he breathes, long eyelashes throwing shadows on his cheek bones. He crosses the last few meters between us slowly, and lifts his hand to trace fingertips along my cheek. "All the time."

I chuckle quietly, tilt my head, moving into the touch. "Even when you were an arm?"

"Even then," he grins, his other hand lifting to cradle my face. "Drove my brothers insane." Thumbs rub gentle circles against my skin. I didn't notice that I'd moved them, but suddenly my hands are holding on to his arms.

Strong, warm arms that let go of their hold on my face to slide down and encircle my waist.

"I hope I didn't drive you to distraction," I whisper, drowning in those eyes, suddenly so very close to mine. My hands have moved up to lay against his chest. "Arms need to focus, too."

"I've been driven to distraction by you since we first met, Isobel," he murmurs, forehead leaning against mine. "I've learned to work around it."

"… should I be proud or offended by that?"

"Heh." He chuckles quietly. "How about happy?"

I smile. "I can do that."

And then he kisses me.

This is not like the last time. No desperation, no feeling like I have to risk it in case I never get another chance, no fierce determination to make him come back to me. But oh my God, his lips are so soft, molding against mine, pressing gently, and I barely notice when my arms snake around his neck and my fingers twine into his ponytail. Suddenly I'm off the ground, First Aid pulling me so close that my feet can't reach the floor anymore, and that's a good thing because my legs were about to give way and if he hadn't been holding on to me I would be a puddle on the floor, seriously.

When he breaks the kiss, a soft moan escapes my throat and I cling tighter to him.

"I'm on duty," he murmurs, pressing small kisses against my cheek and jaw line.

"Not anymore," I breathe, trying to catch his lips again. "Ratchet said to tell you that you were done for today."

"Did he now," First Aid grins against my lips. "Then why are we still standing around?"

I squeal as I suddenly find myself even higher off the ground, and the ambulance comes skidding up to us. First Aid pulls back and shoots me a truly wicked grin. "Let's get out of here."

"Mmmm," I murmur, feeling every part of my body turn slowly to Jell-O. "That feels soooo good. Not sure I know what I did to deserve this."

"Well, you did take out a weekly subscription," First Aid replies teasingly, warm, strong fingers travelling over my back. "And I've missed three of them. I want to make it up to you."

"So you're going to make it up to me all at once?"

"Heh. Of course not." Those hands, oh my God, I'm melting. "What would be the point of that? No, I'm actually hoping that I'll get you to take out a daily subscription if I'm persuasive enough." He leans in, breathes the words into my ear. "So I plan to be very persuasive."

And I get goose bumps all the way from my heels to my hair line. I know he can tell as they spread out on my arms, past the reach of my t-shirt – the quiet chuckle gives him away.

I twist to catch a glimpse of his face. Yep, that's definitely a smirk. That's what I thought I heard.

"Careful there, magic touch, or you might never get out of here," I wink at him. "And then I'd have Ratchet on my case."

Fingers trace gently down my spine. "Hmm. Yes, we wouldn't want that." Thumbs rub firm circles on either side of my spinal column. "I guess I'll have to leave you wanting more, then." Soft breath on my neck, tiny kisses down my spine.

Hoooooooooly crap.

I groan, and he chuckles. "Too much?"

"You're messing with my head," I complain. "I got me a devious Protectobot." I may grumble, but I'm smiling.

"I aim to please," he murmurs, hands running down my sides. "And I wanted to prove how much I missed you." A slight hesitation. "I was nervous about the kind of reception I'd get when we got back."

Now that makes no sense. I turn, sit up on the sofa. "Nervous? Why?"

He shrugs, sits down next to me. "I didn't know if you…" A deep breath. "If you regretted that kiss or not."

I blink.

Apparently, he feels the need to explain that further. "You know, because sometimes people do desperate things when saying goodbye in case it's forever. And I wasn't sure whether you kissed me because you actually meant it or simply because it was possibly your last chance of doing so." A duck of the head, beautiful blue eyes looking up at me through long eyelashes.

"Huh." I purse my lips. "I'm not going to lie; I scared myself to death doing that. It was a very impulsive thing to do."

He looks down at that, frowning slightly.

I don't want him to frown.

I lift my hand, trace the planes of his face with my fingers for the very first time. The curve of his cheek, the straight line of his nose, the soft eyebrows. My thumb gently caresses the smooth lower lip.

"I'm probably one of the thickest humans you've ever met," I say quietly. "It took me forever to realize what was going on. Not to mention about 257 viewings of the footage Rewind got of us at the Halloween party." He snorts at that, one side of his mouth pulling up in a half-smile, but he's still not looking at me.

So I crawl up into his lap. Why not, right? It's not like I haven't wanted to for the last hour, ever since we came back to my flat.

"I stopped regretting it before the planes had even taken off. Before you'd even followed Jazz onto that cargo hold."

At that, he finally lifts his gaze, meeting my eyes. "You were there? I didn't see you."

"I was hiding," I confess, biting my lip and smiling slightly. "I was afraid to come down. So I watched from the hilltop."

Hands are raised to rest on my waist. "I'm a bit glad, actually. I'm not sure how easy it would have been to leave if you'd been standing there, looking at me." He leans towards me and rests his forehead against mine. "You really don't regret it?"

"I really don't," I whisper, smiling against his lips. "Promise."

So he kisses me again. Pulling me close until I'm flush against his chest, cupping the back of my head with his hand, tongue pressing gently against my lower lip. I melt against him, hands stroking shoulders, neck, that beautiful face.

I simply can't get close enough.

One of First Aid's hands slide down to my lower back, finding bare skin where my shirt's slid up. I gasp into the kiss, and then suddenly his tongue is meeting mine, his lips pushing against mine fiercely, a low groan coming from his throat, and holy crap, I can't breathe right and I just can't get close enough as his arms enclose me completely, mouth exploring mine, my hands running through his soft hair and clenching on his shirt behind his shoulder.

"Isobel…" The murmur is soft against my mouth, soft hands stroking the skin of my back, and I moan against him -

And then there's a knock on the door.

I can't quite stop the growl. First Aid grins at me. He raises a finger, touches the tip of my nose. "Someone's at your door, love."

"Don't care." I growl again. "The only one that matters to me right now is already here."

Love. Oh, Primus.

First Aid chuckles at my tone. He leans in, presses a kiss to my forehead. "Much as I like hearing that, let me see who it is, okay? Might be important."

"Might not," I challenge, but I don't object as his strong arms lifts me off him and puts me back on the sofa. "But it better be, or I'm going to make them regret it."

First Aid shoots me a grin, and walks over to open the door.

It's Mirage.

"Ah," the darkly handsome holoform says. He looks slightly surprised at who actually opened the door. "Been replaced, I see." He turn his gaze on me, ignoring First Aid's raised eyebrows. "Hello, darling."

"Mirage," First Aid acknowledges, sounding strained.

I just nod. Mirage is so not welcome right now.

"I came by to see if you were up for a bit of fun," he says smoothly, lips curved in a small half-smile. "Though I can see that you've got that part covered."

Suddenly I feel guilty. And I can't tell if it's for my erstwhile lover who suddenly finds himself left out, or for the pale-haired holoform who's eyeing my new visitor with a mix of nervousness and disdain. But I feel like I owe Mirage a bit more than he's getting right now.

"Mirage, can we talk about this another time?"

He smirks at me as he strides past First Aid, ignoring him completely. "Now, darling, talking was never what we did."

I get up from the sofa, walking up to him. I can see First Aid looking at me from the corner of my eye. "Well, it's what we're going to be doing from now on."

Smooth fingers lift up to trace my cheekbone. "Are you sure, darling? He may be pleasant company, I suppose -" Mirage turns, eyeing First Aid deliberately, and First Aid doesn't look at all pleased "- but you and I both know there's no one that can give you quite what I can."

Okay. Guilty feeling's gone. Now I'm just mad.

"No, you're right," I agree, and both sets of eyes dart back to me, one smug, one hurt. "He can give me more." I take hold of Mirage's shoulder and turn him back towards the door. In his defense, he lets me do it. "Good night, Mirage. I'll see you."

"Yes, well. I can tell when I'm not wanted." He smirks at me again. "If you change your mind, darling, let me know. I'm available should you get tired of this … sparkling."

I all but push him out the door and slam it shut behind him.

"God." I lean my forehead against the wood finish for a moment, before turning back to First Aid. "I'm so sorry about that."

He shrugs. "Mirage is an aft. That's not new. A charming aft, but an aft nonetheless."

"What does that say about me, I wonder," I sigh, leaning against the door. "Since I let myself be charmed."

"It didn't mean anything, though, did it?" He tilts his head, a hopeful expression on his face. "It was just – physical?" The inflection of his voice makes it a question.

"Yeah." I snort and shake my head. "Mirage never even talks to me in public." I duck my head, look up at him. "You okay?"

"Yes. Are you?" He stretches out a hand towards me, and I take it, letting him pull me flush against him gratefully. His other hand is stroking my back softly. "Not regretting your choice?"

I pull back so I can see his face. He's frowning again. "My choice to throw Mirage out and keep you? Absolutely not."

It seems that was not enough, though. That frown is still there, eyebrows pulled down over those mesmerizing eyes. I reach up, place my fingers against the furrow on his forehead.

"Tell me what you're thinking?"

He sighs. "I'm just… I don't know. Worried that it's too good to be true."

I smile a bit at that. "And here I thought that was my line. I don't think you realize what a catch you are." I rest my forehead against his shoulder. "What can I do to make you stop worrying?"

He grins, one finger lifting my chin up until I'm looking into his eyes. "Let me kiss you again?"

Like I'm going to say no to that! Instead, I simply put my arms around his neck and press my lips against his.

I love how he's the perfect height compared to me, just tall enough that I have to tilt my head up but not so tall that I have to strain to reach him. I love how those warm hands slide up my back, pulling me close, and how his shoulders are wide enough to support my arms as I cling to him. The way his mouth moves against mine – insistent, asking, but not pushing, never commanding.

There's no doubt in my mind or in my body that I was right to push Mirage out the door.

And then First Aid breaks the kiss suddenly, face pulling away from mine. I'm about to protest, until I see the look on his face.

Well, I guess his brothers are part of the package.

"I'm sorry, love," he says, pressing a kiss against my forehead. "I have to go. Hot Spot wants me – we need to talk over the duty rosters before everyone goes to recharge."

I smile, pushing into the touch. "I guess I'll have to learn to share you."

Arms tighten momentarily around me. Then – "Do you want to meet them?"

Um, no. No, not without a lot of prepping, and preferably in public where I know they have to behave, and definitely not without talking things over with First Aid first. I'm not going to walk into that without at least having an inkling of what they think about this.

"Yeah, but let's save it until we're all a bit more awake, okay?" I smile and stand on tiptoes to kiss the tip of his nose. "Also, it's not fair to bring your girlfriend to a family gathering unless the family's been consulted first. And I don't want to disturb your duty talk – you need to rest, Aid, and if I'm there things will just take that much longer."

I'm laying it on a bit thick, I realize. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

"I guess you're right," he murmurs, peppering my jaw and mouth with tiny kisses. "You're just so hard to leave."

"Hey, you left for two weeks. You can manage leaving for one night." I smile to take the sting off the words, and lean against his chest. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. I have the first shift with Ratchet, but I'll meet you after that, okay?"

"I'll be waiting."

Soft lips press gently against mine again, long fingers playing with my hair. He releases me and takes a step back, only to groan and embrace me again for another kiss. This one's deeper, and my legs give way again – that's going to become embarrassing at some point – and First Aid takes all my weight, holding me as close as physically possible.

"Not that I object to this treatment," I murmur finally as his lips move away, "but unless you leave, they will at some point come and look for you."

He grins at that. "Hm. I'd say 'let them', but I think you're right – we'll save the introductions for another day. Blades gets cranky when he's tired." He lifts a hand to my cheek, rubs his thumb across my lips.

I press a kiss to his questing finger. "I will see you tomorrow. Now go, talk to your brothers." I grin at the obvious reluctance on his face. "Go!"

"Okay, love. I'll leave," he smirks, then leans in abruptly to plant a quick kiss on my lips. "You're beautiful. I'm going to sweep you off your feet tomorrow."

"My feet are already swept away," I complain, "that's why you've been supporting me a lot tonight. Now go, so a girl can get some recharge!"

"Heh. Recharge. We're rubbing off on you." Another quick kiss, to my nasal ridge this time. "Night, love."

Then he vanishes, blue sparks clinging to my skin before they fade. I can hear the ambulance driving away outside.

I sink to the floor, legs refusing to carry me. Oh my God.

Oh my God. That got real serious real fast. I can't believe it.

Hi, I'm Isobel. I'm dating an alien. And I might be in love with him. Oh, and did I mention he's actually a giant robot who turns into a car at will? And his human form is made out of solid light.

And he lives hundreds of times longer than humans.

I don't want to think about that.

His brothers might dislike me. I don't want to think about that either. Anyway, that can be sorted out. We can work it out.

I still haven't heard a word of those plans Bumblebee mentioned that included me. I guess it doesn't matter at this point, since I made new plans. We'll see.

I'm also a bit excited to see how this thing between Bluestreak and Fireflight evolves. Now that's cuteness.

I'm dead on my feet. I guess I'll have to cart myself off to bed since First Aid's not here to do it for me.

Um.

Okay, that's not going to help me sleep much.

Bad brain.

Bad, bad brain.

Damn it. Changing tracks now.

I have to figure out what to get the Autobots for Christmas. I definitely want to get First Aid something. And Bee and Blue. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, too, and Optimus. Arcee, Blaster, Rewind and Eject. Jazz and Prowl. Ratchet, I guess, so he doesn't feel left out, and maybe Wheeljack.

Mirage?

I'll have to think about that.

What the heck do you buy alien robots for Christmas? Their tech is more advanced, they won't fit into any of our clothing, they've already internalized a lot of what we still think of as fancy gadgets, and they have no need for food or drink. Also, there's the whole need for secrecy, so getting something custom made is going to be tricky. Plus, I'm on an army base in the middle of the ocean, so the shopping possibilities are somewhat limited – unless I can manage to score some shore leave, I'm stuck with what can be delivered.

I can get Eject some sports memorabilia or something, I guess. And I did promise to bury Bumblebee in rom-coms, but I'm not sure he'll appreciate that. Sunstreaker probably knows better than me what kind of art supplies that is the good kind, but maybe I can find something he wouldn't expect. Like a Buddha board or something. Come to think of it, that might actually be great for him. Mindfulness and all that. And I think I want to get Optimus the Confucius Speaks comic books.

I wonder what Sideswipe would say to getting fuzzy car dice. That would be hilarious.

Okay. Bed now. Before my brain goes even further downhill.