Disclaimer: I'll trade you Prime for two dead parakeets and a Billy goat. No! Damn it, Hasbro you're hard to bargain with. Well, since that failed, I still don't own the Transformers.

Ratings: T or R. Violence, Language, Sexual situation, Character death

A special thank you goes to my wonderful betas okami-myrrhibis and Lady Sunflower. They have the arduous task of trying to fix my mistakes. Any and all mistakes remain mine. If you find one, let me know and I will fix it.

Please read and review (I love reviews, they make me write more)

XxxX.

Watching and Waiting

The comm line closed and all he could hear was a quiet echo. No hum, no insect like buzz, no dial tone, no annoying static; just a blessed quiet. He shuttered his optics and relished the calm and silence. It wouldn't last long, it couldn't. But while it was available, he would indulge in a little bit of nothingness. The nothing barely lasted two seconds before his processor started turning, telling him it was time to get to work.

He could not postpone the inevitable any longer. He had argued and fought and ultimately lost. The laws were not on his side. He was not the "next of kin" or the spouse. He even tried as executor of the estate. Except without a will, in the eyes of the law, he had no say in the matter. He had even contacted the lawyer, and soon discovered a lawsuit would be long and arduous with little chance of success. He had to choose his fights carefully, and he decided this was not worth an all-out confrontation with the government. But he wasn't going to give up either. The ability to just give up and walk away was not in his programming.

General McKaffee was coming to take possession of Sira's body. The man had said they would bury her in a "decent and respectful" manner. Yeah, and he was a petro-rabbit on high grade. The scientists would bury the body, but not until they had extracted every useful tidbit from it. The image of specimen jars and cryogenically frozen tubes filtered in his processor, and it frustrated him.

He did not have any attachment to the small organic form, for it was just an empty shell. The part of Sira that mattered was alive and being tended to in the med bay. And he really could not care less what the humans did with their dead; it was none of his concern. He just did not want them to have her. He was certain that Sira wouldn't want the military to have the body, and he felt it was his duty to speak on her behalf until she was able to do so for herself. She did not belong to the humans. She was not one of them, and they had no right to anything about her. With his path decided, Prime walked out of his office, and headed to the furthest end of the base.

Standing before a seeming blank wall Optimus emitted the complex set of frequencies necessary to release the lock. The massive door slid open, and super chilled air seeped into the hall. Prime stepped into the vault, and adjusted his optics to compensate for the low light. To his right was the All Spark shard, sitting in a protective case. To his left, a pile of papers he had decided to keep: citizenship documents, copies of various treaties he made with the government, a small bundle of parchment paper only one among them could read and other accumulated items. In the middle of the room were three large tables. Two of the tables held lifeless protoforms awaiting the inevitable day they will be called into use. On the third rested the remains of a fallen soldier and good friend.

"Hello Jazz. I hope you did not mind watching this?"

Prime ran a comforting hand along the cold, silver armor of his still companion. It had been a while since any of them had visited, and Prime felt a ping of guilt. Coming here was difficult for the Autobots. It reminded them of how much more they could still lose, but it could also reminded them of what they still had left. Either way it was hard on all of them to see the sparkless body that had once held so much life.

Tucked next to the saboteur's hand was a small from that had been carefully wrapped in a white shroud. He did not like the frozen stiffness of the corpse, it felt unnatural … unreal. The quicker he finished this task the better. Patting his lieutenant's chest, Optimus promised to visit when things settled down a little. He knew Jazz would understand; the living always have a higher priority than the dead.

XxxX.

Since the transference there was always someone in the med bay to watch over the femme. Normally it was Ratchet, but occasionally the stalwart medic had to refuel and recharge. Even if he didn't want to and had been physically dragged out by Ironhide. On several occasions Prime had come in and temporarily relieved everyone of their duties and then stayed with Sira. For two weeks they had traded off sitting here. Watching. Waiting. Once again, it was his shift to sit with the new femme.

The new femme. That was the only way he could think of her. It mattered little to him what she had been before; when she came online she would be a femme. Maybe the only femme in existence. No one had seen, or even heard of rumors about one since…

Wheeljack pulled himself out of dark memories when a shadow fell over him. Prime's massive form had blocked the light. The Autobot commander had already come by twice that day to check up on her progress. The engineer shrugged. What could he say? Nothing had changed. Her body was functioning on its own. She responded to touch and pain, but she had yet to reach full consciousness. It was a little troublesome, but everyday brought hopeful improvements.

He saw the frosted bundle in Prime's hand, and glanced at his leader. The expression on the larger 'Bot's face unnerved 'Jack. He hadn't spent several millenniums of daily interaction with the Prime like the others had, and could not read the stoic Autobot as well. But he was sure this was the way the commander's facial plates arranged themselves before a battle; producing that look of grim determination to carry through until the end.

"The accelerant is on the other table. Use some caution, sir, it will burn hot and fast," Wheeljack warned his leader. He didn't want to be the one responsible for landing Prime in the med bay.

Optimus nodded silently. He gathered the sealed container and continued on with his task. Time was running out. General McKaffee and his men would be here within two cycles.

XxxX.

The chemical mix worked faster than he had expected. Rubbing his scorched fingers Optimus chided himself for forgetting who he had asked to create the flammable compound. When Wheeljack casually mentioned the use of caution, the translation was always "use extreme caution."

He didn't watch the flames devour the pyre. He was only staying to make sure the fire didn't spread. The spring rains had ended, and the earth had soaked up all available moisture; leaving the arid land dry once again.

Within a few breems the task was finished. Everything had been reduced to smoldering ash.

He did not feel smug or self-satisfied with his actions. He did not gloat. He would not enjoy the expression the General would have. This was simply the most logical way to solve a problem.

When McKaffee arrived he would direct the General and his men here, and tell them they can have whatever was left of the body.

XxxX.

It had been another two days. Two days of irate communications. Two days of The Secretary of Defense trying to mediate between the Autobots and an insulted General. Optimus held his ground and denied trying to start a "pissing contest". There were softly worded threats and insinuations. But in the end there was nothing anyone could do about his course of action.

Keller stated that "Optimus had to have the biggest set of balls on the planet, and wished other people were so well endowed. Maybe then things would get done."

For another two days they watched and waited.

XxxX.

In the semi-darkness of the med bay a set of optics flickered several times before they glowed steadily. Raising a hand to rub her head in an attempt to chase away the persistent feelings of wrongness, she froze. Slowly turning the metal appendage that responded to her will, the femme carefully viewed it from all sides. She raised her other hand and slowly wiggled the fingers on the foreign object. Had anyone been able to see her face, they would have witnessed a slow transformation from the deep frown of confusion to the wide optic stare of total panic.

The engineer had been running and re-running a simulation on the computer. The data points and variables were so engrossing that he almost didn't notice the movement across the room. Glancing up he saw the protoform jerk and roll off the table.

"Frag! Oh, frag! She's online! Ratchet! Get to med bay now!" Wheeljack yelled into his comm link as he bolted to the femme.

The dull clank of metal slamming into the unforgiving floor sounded loudly through out the room. She had landed hard. The impact left her rattled, in pain and more disoriented than before. Her instincts screamed for her to get up, but her body wouldn't respond. Something was horribly, horribly wrong, and all she could do was lie on her stomach and whimper.

Wheeljack winced when Sira hit the floor. He hadn't been fast enough and his penance was to listen to her painful moans. Where the slag was Ratchet?

He squatted down and placed a comforting hand on her back. The soft touch sent the femme into a blind panic as she flailed and scrambled to get away from him. She slipped and scuttled her way into a corner. The engineer let her go; afraid restraining her would only cause more damage. Wheeljack positioned himself between her and the door not knowing what else to do.

XxxX

He had heard the engineer's summons. The entire base had heard the summons since Wheeljack had used the general communications frequency, and not a private channel. Prime stepped into the med bay to find Wheeljack guarding the door and Ratchet kneeling near the far corner of the room. A small copper colored protoform was wedged into a corner and looking at the medic like he was the most vile creature in the known universe. Meanwhile the most-vile-creature-in-the-known-universe was softly speaking to the femme; trying to coax her to him.

His spark pulsed with relief and excitement. He tried to temper this with caution, but it was hard to deny the fact that he was thrilled to see her up and functioning; even if she was giving the other two 'Bots some degree of difficulty.

Optimus knelt beside the CMO and raised an optic ridge in a silent question. The chartreuse Autobot shifted his weight; sitting on his aft and crossing his legs in front of him.

"Unless you have a special trick for dealing with a scared femme, I believe we may be here a while," Ratchet stated softly.

Prime watched the femme in question with a keen interest. He saw the way that delicate frame shook and twitched every time she moved. He saw her optics were a little too bright and flicked from mech to mech nervously. Smiling softly, he reached for her and clicked soothingly. Sira raised both hands in a palms out gesture, and looked away. He understood; she wanted her space. Optimus pulled his arm back and rested it on his knee. He could wait.

"Sira?" he asked as softly as he could.

She turned her green optics to him, and shivered slightly.

Oh, Primus. They made her optics green. "Sira, do you know where you are?"

Looking around the room she nodded a slow affirmative.

"Do you remember who I am?" Optimus asked.

Sira nodded and her optics narrowed to vicious slits. "I … trusted you. You … did … this."

Prime jerked like he had been struck. The accusatory tone in which her words were said pierced his spark like a lance. He quickly shoved away the invisible wounds she had created. His distress must have shown for a firm hand gripped his shoulder in silent support.

"Sira, do you remember what happened before you woke up here?" the medic asked calmly. Taking the burden from his friend.

The femme shook her head, "No".

"That's fine. Do you remember going to a museum?" Ratchet tried again

A furrow formed on her face plates as she concentrated on remembering. Finally, she shook her head again.

"You cannot recall, and that is acceptable. Do you remember being attacked by a Decepticon?"

The sleek copper head snapped up. Thoughts were furiously passing through her processor. Confusion showed on her face. She tried to inch further away from them, but the walls blocked her escape.

Ratchet sighed. This wasn't going at all the way they had hoped. Images of her sitting on the examining table and chatting amiably with them burst like a rotten fuel line.

"Yes, Optimus … and I did this to you. We were trying to save your life. The Decepticon meant for you to die. He wanted to make an example out of you. He wanted to use you to hurt Prime. What he did not count on was Optimus reaching you before you expired, and initiating what we call transference. This is when a consciousness is moved from one body to another. Normally, this is done in a laboratory." The medic sent a pointed look to the Autobot leader. "But the Prime can also perform transference with the assistance of the Matrix."

"You were dying, I had little choice." Optimus said solemnly. He warily looked her in the optics, afraid of what he might find in their green glow. The haunted expression was not what he had been expecting. He wondered if hate and rage would have been preferable.

Sira tried to say something, but quickly gave up when her voice processor wouldn't co-operate. She was feeling overwhelmed and trapped. Her conflicting emotions were threatening to swallow her. Anger, fear, shock, and betrayal mixed with gratitude, curiosity and awe wove into a net that was threatening to strangle her. She wanted time to think and sort through what she had just learned. Time to figure out how she felt. Time to just make sense of it all. She wanted to get away from the mechs. She especially wanted to get away from the one that had betrayed her

Using the wall as support, she slowly rose to her feet. The two mechs nearby quickly jumped up, obviously ready to assist in anyway.

"Just … back!" she snapped at the larger mechs. Right now she didn't want their help. She didn't want them touching her.

She carefully made her way to the door, only to have it blocked by Wheeljack. She laid a hand on the engineer's white armor to steady herself, and felt him shift his weight. Ready to catch her if she lost her balance, but not allowing her to leave.

"Let her go," Optimus instructed.

The indecision was evident in the subordinate mech's optics. Clearly he did not agree with Prime's order, but he wasn't sure he wanted to challenge the Autobot commander. Finally, he stepped out of her way, but remained close enough to grab the femme if necessary.

Sira slipped from the room and headed down the hall. With one hand on the wall for support, she made her way to her destination.

XxxX.

Optimus wanted to hold her back. To try and make her understand their reasons and intentions, but he knew stopping her would only make things worse. So, he let her go. Looking toward the medic he braced himself for the inevitable aft chewing. It didn't come.

Ratchet just stood there shaking his head sagely. "Prime, some days I think you are a complete idiot. How do you propose to get her back in here without a fight? Primus, she was a handful as a small organic. What do you think she will be like as a fully functioning femme?"

XxxX.

A/N: To all my loyal readers, there will not be an update next week. I'm going out of town for a while and won't be able to post… I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I promise I'll post the following week.

To Punk Autobot - You haven't left any comments for a while. I thought you had left. Sorry about the confusion, it really wasn't intentional. To Flarire - Thank you I'm glad you like. To fennecfox03 - Breath! I should have warned you I tell a convoluted and twisted tale. To Kaida Tori - Thank you. I hope you didn't read the whole thing in one sitting. Computers cause terrible eye strain. Here is your update. To Ladyofthebookworms - CLIFFIE RESOLVED! (?) :P Sunny doesn't do much, be when he gets off his lazy aft he can accomplish great things. To Hermonine - Thank you. To Elariel - Thank you for that glowing review. It made me smile for an entire day! I like playing Optimus against Ratchet and seeing who comes out on top. Their relationship is so complicated and deep. I have considered putting in a little more of 'Bee and company. Don't hold your breath. Right now Ironhide is dragging my muse around by her neck and demanding his time in the lime light. To Soului - Thank you. The 'Bots are so fun. I have rules for writing them though. Each one comes with a set of general guidelines in an attempt to make them understandable and alien.