Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and comments. Keeps the energy and ideas flowing. Always fun to see what people think of each chapter, knowing there is usually a plan and pattern yet to be revealed. My roommates actually got a birthday cake with red and blue flames across it and stuck an Optimus Prime movie version on it. When I picked it off the cake, I took it over to the sink. Somehow licking off the frosting seemed way too weird and perverted!!

Misc note: Mikeala is spelled with ea as I found out this week. Early chapters had the letters reversed. Oops. My bad. Even Prowl missed that one. And I have worked with professionals and officers of previous companies that thought being boss meant being an all knowing jerk over everyone else. Even when all they had was school knowledge and family connections to get them that job. Life and experiences teach by hurting but you learn fast.

And here is a unique possibility on the Allspark not seen elsewhere that I know of. Onward to taking it easy and dealing with family revelations.

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Optimus and Mikeala listened to Ratchet's report, as Sam rested nearby. The red color was fading as his skin healed faster under their care than any hospital could have achieved. He refused to bandage his eyes, since they were going to get better and argued about having to remain in medbay.

"No way, absolutely not and not if you ever want to see me naked again," was Mikeala's final threat that got him to agree.

"By tomorrow, he can be allowed to resume normal motor functioning with minimal assistance. The dangers of replicating detrimental microorganisms in host tissue have elapsed." Ratchet concluded.

"No infection. Do you have to make everything sounds serious?" Mikeala asked, ignoring the hand motions he made her way. All wrenches had been secured as a safety measure and he could only gesture his favorite way of handling annoyances. "Trauma drama sheesh. You need to cut back on the soap operas."

"Is our assistance required in any other way?" Optimus quickly stepped in verbally.

"I have a request." Sam said. "I want Bumblebee to take care of me, not Mikeala. Let me explain!" he gestured hands up defensively, facing her general direction. "He's upset and overprotective worse than ever. Let us work this out together. Besides," he grinned mischievously. "Bumblebee wanted a sparkling right? To raise? Maybe time he learned it's not as easy as he thinks." He heard their chuckles.

"I'm sure Ironhide could fill you in," Ratchet said. "Provide some pointers on what we had to put up with when he was a sparkling. Refusing to recharge, picky on energon flavors and sneaking off every nano second you weren't looking to create trouble."

"Sparkling or boyfriend? Sounds the same to me." She teased.

117. Do not make unattended drones to assist in human or Autobot general maintenance chores. Humans or a mech must be present to monitor potential problems and prevent theft of the devices. *Wheeljack, twins (either set) or Kup.

"Looks small," the maintenance director continued to examine the square drone. "My vacuum cleaner is twice this size and this lab is huge. My men removed the debris but it's still a mess." He gestured at the charred floor and crumble dust everywhere. "We don't need this space yet," he admitted to Wheeljack. "But it is the spare lab and needs to be ready. Thank you for saving the boy. He's a good kid."

"I wish I could have saved the others too." Wheeljack's side bars flashed a soft blue with twinges of black. His white paint with red and green coloring was unmarked following self repair but his usual cheerfulness was subdued. "I had to make a choice."

"Man was a pain in the aft. Talked down to us like we were too stupid to do anything but push a mop. He probably never lived long enough to realize the mistake he'd made. Left a mess for everyone else to handle. Typical." He griped then bumped the drone with his foot. "What's in there?"

"A silicone sealant modified on a molecular level. A few coats and this floor will be factory shine new. Normally they would be on a higher speed setting but Optimus imposed that restriction after the last incident," the inventor's side bar lights flushed bright scarlet.

The maintenance director coughed, hiding his grimace. 'Incident? Dang near wiped a tenth of the base before Blurr could catch that little rolling disaster. Too fast to see and went barreling through everything in its path. Only reason I'm allowing this is my men are wary of it being haunted now.'

"And go." Wheeljack pushed the green button on its top. With a transforming sound, the small square popped out four multi directional wheels and a buffer pad. Spraying liquid, it spun, rubbing the polish in and cleaning the floor. "See?" Wheeljack looked down, not finding the human. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the human crouching behind his leg, watching the drone. "I programmed it to move around humans then clean that area on its return path. It's safe." He triggered the next one sitting in the middle of the floor, then the one on the last third of the warehouse. "The sealant is enough to use for a year and last longer than this structure. Turn off in fourteen breems, or two hours. Repeat cleaning once every fourteen orns or six months human time. Call me if needed."

He left as the human watched from behind a support pillar. When none of them malfunctioned, he relaxed, calling his girlfriend. Then he left, wanting to change before meeting for dinner. It was five days later he remembered the drones. The drones were still rolling back and forth, the floor looking like polished glass. A single step and he fell, sliding quite a ways. Thankfully, his two-way radio was still in his pocket.

The emergency team arriving stepped onto the surface, sliding and falling. They called for help. The next two medics arrived, running forward to help and fell, sliding past the first group. As did the next two teams anxious to assist and not listening to the yelled warnings when entering.

In the end, Jazz and Trailbreaker used their grappling hooks to retrieve eleven humans back to the non-polished part. The area became the new skating rink and impact testing area. Indoor hockey worked when everybody remembered to wear friction pads to slow their sliding. Otherwise, it was a race between their bodies and the puck into the net.

110. Do not leave a fellow Autobot or NEST teammate unattended and unmonitored during the recovery stage. Especially a human. A breem of activity can undo joors of repair. *Amended 09/26/09 by Chief Medical Officer. "undo joors of repair and require ice packs for the wrench shaped bruises."

Sam opened his eyes, gasping at the faint light. 'I see dark blurry shapes but I can see light and dark.' Closing his eyes, he focused. 'Ratchet to my right, Bumblebee next berth over, both in recharge. Mikeala is here somewhere too, no idea where.' Sitting up, he wiggled as sensitive skin itched. 'Thirsty,' he licked dry lips, realizing the dark shape at the end of the recharge berth had to be a serving tray.

Barely making a sound on the flat surface, Sam crawled forward. Stretching out his hands, he patted around each shape, trying to identify it. "What are these, welded shut? I can't budge them. No labels. Couldn't read them even if they were.' The sigh of frustration was echoed from across the room. He turned towards it, feeling the spark that was Bumblebee moving closer. Ancient language glyphs super imposed across his vision before disappearing. 'Torture, pain, need' he decoded as metal fingers rustled his hair.

"Thirsty." His cloudy eyes showed the faintest twinge of green in the center. A human coffee cup was pressed into his hands and he gulped the water."More?" Noises indicated his guardian walking away, refilling it and returning.

"Hey lover," a female voice purred from below him. He instinctively leaned towards it when metal fingers held him tight. "Watch the edge Sam. You don't need broken bones." Her voice rose to his height as she climbed the ladder. "You should have said you needed us. Now, hungry? Cheeseburger and fries? Tacos? Steak sandwich with chips? Spaghetti? Chef Salad? Cake with ice cream?" Each was met with a negative head shake.

"Samuel James Witwicky! What is your problem? You need to eat," She groused. "Fine. You figure it out," she told Bumblebee before climbing back down to the floor and stomping out.

He shrugged, rustling the sheets with his hands. "Let me think about it. I'm just tired."

::Help! He won't eat:: Bumblebee

::He will eat for the right food. Figure out what it is. How difficult can that be?:: Ratchet sent before leaving. He joined Mikeala in the hallway and nearly lost it laughing.

151. Do not plan or execute a prank that endangers the continued functioning, either mentally or physically, of any Autobot command officer, especially our last Prime.

Bumblebee increased his sensors to their full range. 'Empty structures, multiple humans but no mechs identified. Perfect time to sneak out for pizza,' he processed, holding Sam tightly against his chest. Ghosting across the open space, his metal form was noiseless contrasted to his apparent size and mass. The human remained still in his arms, tightly bundled in layers of clothing against the fall air. The outer fence was simply stepped over, its barb wire and electrical current never allowed to touch the armored metal.

Cooing softly, Bumblebee sat Sam down on the ground, carefully balancing him on his feet. Stepping back, he transformed slowly into his Camaro alt form before opening the driver door.

"What took so long?" Sam asked, reaching for the vague dark shape. "Wait, this is the driver side," he felt the steering wheel. A soft whistle encouraged. "You sure? I have no problem with, okay." He laughed as the whistle increased in volume and intensity. Stretching out, the seat hardened against his back, lengthening to fit under his legs to his knees. The door closed. Keys jingled as the steering column raised and pulled in on itself for more room.

"Pizza delivery," a voice clip played as they rolled out and away from the fence, a security camera the only witness.

In their private quarters, the twins exchanged a metallic high five hand slap. "Told you bro, tapping into the security system was smart."

"Blackmail the little sneak? Tell Ratchet and watch the wrench throwing? Let Ironhide and Optimus know he is missing with the human in a few breems?" Sideswipe pondered while trying to calculate between which would be more fun to watch versus give them the most advantage in the future.

"Better. Got pink paint?" Sunstreaker asked, his lip plates forming into a full smile.

"Too passé. We already painted him pink with flowers. Nobody seemed to care."

"Not a total repaint," his smile turned to a smirk. "This is what I had in mind." By the time he was done explaining, his twin nearly fell off his bunk with laughter.

Bright and early, Bumblebee left med bay, heading to get his daily fill of energon while Ratchet guarded his humans. Ten minutes later, his form slid to the floor in Sideswipe's arms. "Told you tranking him would be easy. No one expects an attack on familiar territory by a friend." They readied their tools then carried the bot back to his quarters, energon container nearby.

To the astro second calculated, he snapped online, awareness returning. Processors showed a short time sequence gap, disregarded as minor he guzzled the energon, wanting to complete his morning tasks before returning to med bay and Sam.

In the main hangar, the twins barely hid their anticipation, passing the time talking to the other Autobots.

"Anyone see Arcee this morning?" Sunstreaker asked, his tone neutral while showing a faint frown on his facial plates.

"Mission with NEST. Was on the schedule. Left early with Flareup, Chromia and Hound. Why?" Ironhide asked, peering at him.

He pretended to pout, "I had planned to be with her. Didn't work out."

"She had another mech you mean," his twin commented, ducking away from the punch thrown his way. "Being honest bro! Her loss picking any other mech." The assembled Autobots ignored their bickering, long familiar with their antics.

"Arcee has taste if she passed on you," Ironhide muttered.

"I don't believe it," Sunstreaker growled as Bumblebee strode in, raising one hand in greeting and whistling cheerfully. His optics narrowed, pointing to his chest then at the young mech. The other Autobots noticed his motions, blinking startled optics. His lower chest was faintly scratched, below the yellow Camaro bumper shape, with paint streaks of pink. The same pink that was Arcee's color.

"Maybe she likes them younger," Sideswipe joked then ducked behind Ironhide as Sunstreaker glared, unsubspacing a sword.

"Bumblebee, where…uhm…what did you do last night?" Ironhide asked, as the others watched. The youngling vented softly, systems rising as he pantomimed recharging and walking to check on Sam then recharging again. He gestured both arms out widely with a querying tone.

"Recharging? That's it?" His guardian asked, staring at the pink scratches below his chest plates. Bumblebee nodded rapidly before looking away. Head down, hands folded behind his back, he shuffled in place identical as when a sparkling and in trouble.

::Maybe you should have the talk with him Ironhide. Unless you want another sparkling to raise:: Sideswipe

::Talk? He's a youngling!:: Ironhide's mental tone roared back as his cannons cycled.

::Old enough to lie about where or what he did. I say let him spark his own problems:: Sunstreaker snipped. They watched the black weapons mech sway on his feet before he steadied. Optimus entered through the main door, optics flashing back and forth, taking the scene in.

::Twin problems?:: Optimus

::'Bee sparked with Arcee last night! You have to talk with him:: Ironhide sent, his tone sounding frazzled.

:He what?!:: The mech literally stumbled over his own feet, losing his internal compensators. The pink scratches were proof enough.

::Ratchet! You need to talk to Bumblebee and Arcee NOW!:: Optimus

::What's the emergency? I'm a medic not a bot sitter. Hence why I'm in med bay. Talk to Ironhide:: Ratchet

::They sparked! My son and Arcee. What do I do? He's a youngling and you need to talk to him before they…:: Optimus' connection faded out suddenly. He waited for the connection to reestablish when another signal clicked in.

::Emergency in main hangar. Prime is down, systems overload:: Ironhide yelled at the medic. ::Get your aft over here!::

Ratchet arrived as Optimus' own systems reset, bringing him back online. Ironhide held Bumblebee tightly, up in the air, as he struggled to reach the twins. They were on the floor rolling and laughing.

*CHIRP CLICK *CACKLE STATIC* CLUNK CHIRP*BZZZ SNICK *

"Bumblebee! Quit swearing!" Optimus commanded, rising back to his full height.

"And no vocalizing!" Ratchet bopped him on his head plates, glaring optic to optic. "Why do you have pink repair paint on you?" The prank was explained and Bumblebee confessed to sneaking Sam out for pizza. His punishment was cleaning the brig for an orn. The twins were denied access to any and all paints, including any needed to touch up their scratches or battle damage for the same orn. Ratchet, Ironhide and Optimus almost relented seeing what Arcee inflicted on them when she returned and found out what had happened. Almost that was.

Sam, Optimus and post lab recovery (pt 2 )

"How is Dr Jensen and his team recovering?" Sam asked, shifting and trying to get comfortable after being bedridden for hours.

"They did not survive the explosion. The generator split in half with one piece rupturing their direction. Wheeljack and you were off to the side. From Dr. Jensen's notes, he had worked with Sector Seven on minor projects but never directly with Megatron. Thought the scientific data claims were government hyperbole to justify research money. His schooling met our standards, his background was clear and he had no personal relationships to interfere with remaining on base for months on end with projects," Ratchet explained. "I have other matters to attend to. If you will excuse me." He went out the doors, leaving the two of them alone.

"I tried warning him." The pain in the human's voice was evident.

"His arrogance and belief in his own intellectual superiority was his undoing. An odd trait for a scientist."

"Starscream is a scientist." Sam reminded.

Optimus chuckled. "Point taken. Prowl has a logic glitch. Personality flaws must be an unwritten requirement for second in commands."

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Optimus, blinking as ancient glyphs superimposed themselves before fading. "You're not recharging properly," he said. "You see offlining and battles every time you do. Your pain keeps you from Elita and you fear appearing weak or in distress as a leader."

"How?" he sputtered but did not deny it.

"The Allspark was essence and power. When the cube compacted for Bumblebee, it transferred part of itself into subspace. With the cube's physical destruction and both known shards being used, it remains trapped there. But not powerless."

To be continued…