Bloody Hell! I am so, so, soooo sorry! Life has been kicking my ass and I was having a lot of trouble writing this chapter. Seriously, I swear at times it felt like pulling teeth! Hopefully, this update will sate you guys for now and I'll be more free this summer though to write more.

Thank you to SilentFemme, Cinematronix, ryannea. reed, BarrelRacer1205, darkelf1996, Sfrizz5959, Guest (1), Guest (2), b. marr, bajy, KittenGurl2019101, Estela prime, Shiro-Da-Hero, gwencarson126, Sakura9544, Steelcode, GothGhostQueen, X Valkyrie Prime X and those who favorited and followed myself and this story. Thank you so much! You are all wonderful people.

Also, congratulations to catheryne. sans for being my 300th reviewer!

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers Prime or any other recognizable works such as NCIS: Los Angeles.

Chapter 37: How to Cross a Frozen Lake

"Thanks again for all that you've done, ma'am," my latest customer spoke, seeming genuinely grateful, which was more gratitude than I got on a monthly basis. "My family and I would still be stranded here if it wasn't for you."

I waved off the thanks, wiping my hands on a rag and lips twitching. "Just doing my job. Wouldn't want anyone to be stuck here in nowheresville."

She chuckled at that. "Still, I appreciate how hard and quickly you worked on our van. It mostly takes the company near our home a couple days to fix our cars and it barely took you a couple hours."

"Well, all it takes is the right mindset, focus and determination."

"And incentive I'm sure," she smiled handing over a freshly written paycheck.

I glanced at the amount and immediately went to refute. It was a lot more than what was owed. Yet the woman cut me off before I could. "Take it as a thank you for the speedy service. For everything."

Part of me wanted to disagree, but eventually I just nodded, murmuring a goodbye as she joined her family in the van and drove away. I should have been the one thanking her for the (brief) reprieve from my ever present and haunting thoughts.

Sighing, I walked back into the shop and sat down at my desk, beginning to tackle the nuisance called paperwork.

As much as it shamed me to admit it, this entire week I had been determinedly avoiding Optimus like the proverbial plague ever since I kissed him, which wasn't too hard given that it was mid-terms and gave me ample opportunity to cite studying for the next test as an excuse. I even went so far as to get up earlier than usual for school and make a beeline straight for my shop afterwards, occasionally taking a couple unnecessary turns in case I picked up a certain red and blue tail.

Why was I doing this?

Well, frankly, the word terrified scarcely covered the extent of how I felt. Mortified. Embarrassed. Poignant. Discombobulated. Unsure. Jittery. And a plethora of other things that accurately described how I wanted to hide in the deepest, darkest hole available and then proceed to glue my hand to my face in a permanent face-palm before ripping out my heart and melting into a pitiful puddle of shame for enjoying the wonderful kiss. Yeah, it was bad. I wasn't kidding when I said that emotions weren't really my forte.

Worst of all, today was Friday, meaning Optimus had an entire weekend to corner, catch, and interrogate me. Call me overdramatic, but it's how I saw it.

Lord, Primus, why me? I wondered.

*Bzzt. Bzzzt.*

At the sound of my phone, my shoulders slumped as I made a miserable groaning sound in the back of my throat.

Sweet Primus I need a vacation, I mentally grumbled, reaching for the annoying device all the same but with deliberate slowness before flipping it open to read the latest text.

Hey, we still on 4 2night?—Jack

My brow furrowed in confusion, while there was that distinct wriggling of familiarity in the back of my mind like I had forgotten something again.

4 what?—Aria

The sleepover idea Miko came up with, remember? We all were gonna stay base 2night and have a sleepover. U said U'd come.—Jack

Oh yeah. Now I remembered. As a way to celebrate the end of finals and the start of winter break, resident wild child came up with a 'great idea' to help the Bots with their exposure to human culture by hosting a sleepover at base. It had been out of the blue but the others had eventually agreed. (Ratchet's concerns (read as complaints) were heard, acknowledged, and then promptly ignored). I didn't really get it though, since technically we all had slept over at base once or twice in the time we had known the Autobots. But whatever, I don't pretend to understand the inner-workings of Miko's mind. And technically, I hadn't been invited. Jack just asked (*cough* voluntold *cough*) me to come along despite the contemptuous looks Miko kept shooting me.

In any matter, my fingers were seconds away from typing out a polite excuse—unwilling to encounter Optimus—when somewhere in the back of my mind, a familiar voice whispered, Go on. You promised after all. Besides, it's a new experience. Who knows? It might even be fun.

Pfft, fun. Since when has any of Miko's ideas turned out to be fun for me? I thought sardonically. Sighing with a small shake of the head, I typed out my response against my better judgement, hoping I wasn't going to regret this.

Sorry, 4got. Had a lot on my mind. Yeah sure I'll B there. Just let me pack an overnight bag and some earplugs. :p I'll C U in a bit.—Aria

Great! C U soon. :D—Jack

Well it looks like I'll be heading for a sleepover now. Hooray. Note sarcasm.

—Later—

Make it stop! Somebody, please have mercy and make it stop!

Quietly from my place in the shadows, I hissed, massaging my temples. My thrice-damned bitch of a headache was back again and with a vengeance apparently.

Today was just not my day, let me tell you.

I was just mildly thankful for the low lighting in base right now because I was about ready to literally start crying, bawling and begging whatever deity there was out there for a reprieve if I were to be subjected to another painfully bright light. Well, either that or I'd find a way to knock myself out.

Anyways, as I said before, as a way to help the Autobots understand human culture a little better, Miko decided to host this big slumber party at base. She had technically only invited Raf and Jack, but both of them had begged for me to be invited too. Seriously, I have no clue why they would think I would fit in at a sleep over. I had never even been to an 'official' one before!

Since I had been too busy fighting to survive on the streets when I was little, sleepover's at friends' houses weren't really part of the learning experience. I mean, yeah, I had technically had some form of slumber parties with both my mentors and my group all the time, though without the party part, but that didn't really count I think, since in normal slumber parties you don't have to worry about taking shifts to keep watch in case of intruders.

In any matter, after sequestering myself away somewhere on base to avoid the first crazy events of the sleep-over (which consisted of Miko loudly strumming her electric guitar, dancing and basketball by way of Autobot), we were now apparently at the part where everyone sits in a circle with the lights dimmed (except for a couple cheap camping lanterns and a single flashlight) and tell 'scary' ghost stories. Or so I was told. Again, I didn't exactly have this type of learning experience growing up.

"…And the policeman said: "Whatever you do, don't look back!" But of course, she did…And she saw her boyfriend dangling from a tree. His shoes still scraping the roof of the car," Miko finished, her voice somewhat low and containing a note of maliciousness as she looked out at the rest of us.

I just rolled my eyes, somewhat amused by Bulkhead's nervousness due to Miko's shoddy rendition of the story of the Hookman. It sounded more like something you would tell your kid to get them to behave.

"Not bad Miko. Okay, now it's your turn Aria," Jack eventually called over, as the foreign girl tossed me the flashlight 'baton', which I caught easily. Man did I miss my real batons; I still was working on making new ones and my progress on them was everywhere but close to finishing. Then again, that might be because I was just improving on the original design. Again.

"Fine," I drawled, heaving a half-exasperated sigh and fiddling with the device in my grip. "Let's see here…"

Scrabbling through my memories, I tried to figure out what to tell them. Thanks to some of the knowledge I possessed about historical artifacts and ancient mythologies, I knew a couple stories that might entertain them, but those might bore them too since they were considered 'ancient history' as Miko would no doubt say. But maybe…I could tell them one of the horror stories I heard about on the streets? Within reason of course, since Raf was still only twelve.

Hmmm…Maybe I could tell them that story?

"Okay, here's a story for you. Has anyone ever heard of the Dark Phoenix? Not the X-men version, but the one they sometimes talk about on the news and internet?" I queried, a true malicious smile gracing my lips.

Everyone shook their heads except for Jack. He had heard me mention the Phoenix a couple times before when we were younger, though nothing detailed or relating to the true identity of the elusive fighter.

"Isn't he just some street legend?" Jack asked. "A mythical bogeyman invented by gangs to keep other rival gangs off their turf?"

Smirk softening a little as I took in everyone's eager expressions before continuing, I replied with a small shake of my head. "You're half-right, but I'm afraid not. You see the Phoenix isn't just an urban fantasy cooked up by the gangs to stay off each other's' turf. They're definitely a very real person."

"How do you know that?" Raf asked skeptically, the others nodding in agreement.

Eyes glittering with mischief, I simply replied, "The photos." That got some looks. "You see it all happened not too long ago, back when streets were a tad wilder and more dangerous, as cliché as it sounds. Technology wasn't that great, so cops were having a harder time finding sufficient evidence to lock up criminals."

I shook myself. "Anyways, I'm getting off task here. The Dark Phoenix wasn't all that well known at first. Just a couple whispers here and there, usually coming from the blood rings."

"Blood rings?" Arcee cut in, looking confused.

"They're illegal underground fighting rings with a lot less rules compared to WWE or MMA tournaments," I quickly explained. "They're like a modern-day gladiatorial arena where people—if they're brave enough to try their luck—try to earn a couple extra bucks. It's pretty bloody."

As I spoke, I didn't miss how some of the Autobots stiffened somewhat at the gladiatorial arena reference.

"Anywho, the Phoenix was a complete mystery at first. No one could tell you much, except that they were a new up and comer in the rings, a loner, making a big name for themselves by moving up the ranks quickly." My eyes grew a little distant remembering those days and the hardships I had been through. Those certainly had been the more…interesting days. "Most people scoffed, thinking that the newbie would be one of those people who managed to get all the way to the top only later to be toppled by their own arrogance. The type that would burn so bright that they burnt themselves out if you know what I mean." A low chuckle made it past my lips. "Oh how wrong they were.

"Now in the blood rings, you can't go in and win a several fights in a row without making a couple enemies. It's a given considering every criminal type from low level street thugs to racketeering businessmen attend them, and that makes some of the fighter infinitely more dangerous than others, especially if you beat them.

"And the Phoenix? Well, they managed to piss off quite a few people with their apparent talent for fighting," I told them ruefully, remembering how cocky I had started out. I had had quite the mouth on me. Still did too, though I managed to get a better handle on it mostly. "However, it wasn't until one day that the Phoenix appeared in Miami and managed to single-handedly beat another long-standing contender that they managed to put themselves on the local crime lord's radar, and not in a good way, mind you. You see, the person they had beaten was a member of the local mafia family, which was notoriously dangerous. But the Phoenix, well, they had just managed to take down their undefeated reigning champion, so you can imagine it wasn't going to go over well."

I chuckled a little, causing everyone else to copy me, albeit uneasily due to the ominous tension building in the room.

"So in retaliation, the group, called the Trafficante crime family, sent one of their own to… silence the Phoenix as payback. I'm sure you can figure out what that means. Only it didn't go according to plan, because the next day, all the members of the crime family, their allies, and just about every other major crime family out there too received photos of the guy they had sent in, chopped up into little itty bitty pieces as a warning. Either they behaved and left the Phoenix alone or they would end up like that guy." I nearly laughed at how pale everyone had gotten by now.

If only they knew the truth of what really had happened; the truth isn't nearly as scary as the rumors I'm telling them.

"Some heeded the warning of course, passing along the story behind the photos until just about every crime syndicate and their underlings and all the homeless person out there knew better… And then of course, there were others who scoffed and tried to challenge the Phoenix themselves anyways. Those who did never returned…at least not in one piece if they were lucky. Some even declared wars on the Phoenix too, only to be wiped out entirely within a week along with anyone they were allied with.

"Pretty soon, the name of the Dark Phoenix was something to be feared on the streets and never, ever spoken aloud for fear of summoning them and being beat into submission. Rumors spread like wildfire too. Some said he was this tall, hulking brute who could crush you with one hand. Others described a lean, gangly man with the face of the devil himself, snickering all the while as he leaned on his cane. There were even some descriptions flying about that the Phoenix was a shapeshifter, appearing to their opponents as an innocent, harmless-looking little girl who would rip your throat out as soon as you turned your back or showed the slightest weakness.

"Eventually, they learned to comply to his will, finding it was hard to cross a guy who seemed to be everywhere at once and completely unstoppable. Some of the crazier—or just plain desperate—folk even tried to go to him for help or shelter from another gang, but they and those related to their troubles all disappeared. And anyone who tried to either falsely claim to be allied with or pretended to be the Phoenix were immediately silenced too."

I drank in all the pale, horror-struck faces of humans and bots alike, amused that they were terrified of an overdramatized version of true events.

"In any case, there hasn't been very many sightings of him recently, but many believe he's still watching from the shadows, forcing certain gangs to take cover before nightfall. And every once in a while, people with criminal ties allegedly go missing, before random body parts appear on a gang's doorstep the very next day. Only those who are truly innocent are said to be spared from the Dark Phoenix's wrath," I finished, lips curled upward in an impish way at how still everyone was.

Clapping my hands together loudly, everyone jumped at the sound—Ironhide especially looking ready to start scanning the shadows for psychotic, bloodthirsty streetfighters amusingly enough—but I ignored it as I declared amicably, "And that's the end of the story."

"Uh, Aria, h-how old is this story?" Raf stuttered nervously, breaking the silence at last.

I put on a thoughtful expression. "Oh about nine or ten years old, give or take a few years; plenty of time for the Phoenix to still be alive," I replied chipperly.

Everyone glanced at each other nervously, all except Miko that is, who stared ahead courageously…or recklessly, I should say, considering her penchant for idiocracy.

"Pfft… if I saw that Dark Phoenix guy, he'd be toast," Miko boasted confidently, though there was a minute quaver in her voice.

Inwardly, I smirked. Oh, if they only knew… I mused, before my eyes caught sight of a certain Prime.

Damn.

—Optimus Prime's POV—

Observing quietly as she spun her horrific tale, Optimus monitored her facial expressions, simply taking in the femme's features. She hadn't noticed his return yet, thankfully. Otherwise, she may just have bolted and hid, trying to avoid him like she had been doing for the past week.

The Prime dearly wished she would talk to him, even if it was to tell him that the kiss they shared had been a mistake. He missed her company and their conversations as well as her light and overall presence. But he did his best to keep his distance when she made it clear she did not want to see him.

Still, he kept thinking of their kiss, thoughts of her filling his processor at the most inopportune times and distracting him from work.

Also, if that wasn't bad enough, Optimus was pretty sure that his friends Ironhide and Ratchet both knew that something was going on between him and Aria because he had seen them whispering, glancing almost knowingly in both their directions every once in a while for some time now since the 'sleepover' began. They knew something or at least had some suspicions, though he wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Shaking his helm, he turned his gazed back to the golden-haired femme just as she was concluding her tale. An amused yet almost meaningful light glittered in her eyes, like she was aware of another fact in her story that only she was privy to, a private joke she had with herself. That amused glitter though only increased as Miko went to declare that she could take on the fighter known as The Dark Phoenix. He wondered with absent curiosity what tickled her so. Knowing the femme, it likely was another tight-lipped secret that served to enhance the mysterious enigma that she presented.

Then, the human femme turned, and her grey eyes met his.

Frag.

—Later, Dream, Aria's POV—

As expected, her first couple days on the street since she initially ran away had been beyond rough. No amount of mental preparation could have fully prepared her for what lay ahead. Her grey eyes, which had glimmered with mischievousness and mirth once upon a time, now looked almost dead and perhaps a little feral thanks to all she had been through in her short life.

Now instilled with an unhealthy amount of paranoia, Aria found herself living in fear, constantly glancing over her shoulder for any sign of her past coming back to haunt her. her muscles always tensed in preparation to bolt without a second thought. She refused to be dragged back to either of her parents' hell-holes without a fight. Despite being only seven-years-old (almost eight), the blonde-haired girl knew that either living situation was not ideal, so she kept moving, dead set on putting as much distance between herself and the hell that remained in Arizona. Frankly, it didn't matter to her how she did so, sometimes resorting to walking, even if her limbs screamed at her to stop, other times hitching rides with anyone willing to take her, or just plain old stowing away without the driver's knowledge. She didn't care about anything except the safety that came with distance.

On those days, when the negative memories came back to her, Aria barely slept, catching only a couple winks here and there but never a substantial amount. Sometimes it was the fear that kept her up, nightmares and old memories plaguing her dreams, fueled by the fresh, stinging claw marks on her face. Other times, she stayed up from sheer determination alone, wanting to keep one eye always open, alert for any sign of danger. Her trust in humanity had long since evaporated into nothingness; everyone, no matter who they were or how old they were or anything, looked like an enemy in her eyes. Only the dead were dependable now in her eyes. They wouldn't (couldn't) rat her out or harm her or anything of the sort. It was kind of ironic too, since the more restful bouts of sleep only came to her when she sought refuge in some of the graveyards

Conserving what little money she had, Aria sometimes resorted to stealing when she could, other times laying on her childish charms and getting others to buy her stuff, or doing a couple small, odd jobs to earn more green. She didn't like the first two options personally because they weren't honest, but sometimes in life you have to make a choice: morals or your next meal?

Dark circles began to form under her yellowed, blood-shot eyes as time went by. Aria's body got thinner too thanks to the bare minimum meals, and her hair reduced to a very short pixie bob thanks to that time she cut most of it off and sold it for money. She still retained some muscle on her, of course, especially her legs, thanks to all the cross-country walking or full-out sprinting she had to do when local gangs or law enforcement chased after her for whatever reason, but her physical health definitely did not meet any professional health standards.

But little Aria pressed on like a soldier despite it all, which probably would have impressed real soldiers with that kind of determination and endurance. Without it, she likely would have died long ago, though some would debate that her current situation wasn't really living at all, just merely a morbid, half-existence of sorts. Because, when she looked at the world nowadays, all she saw was bad!bad!bad! Whatever good that had existed once upon a time had died in her eyes long ago.

Trust had died long ago along with her faith, hope and happiness.

All she possessed now were nightmares, scars, fearful paranoia, doubt and an annoying amount of cynicism.

The perky little girl had died long ago.

Aria stilled completely when she woke up, body tense, a sad hollowness lingering in her grey eyes with the memories of her past as they glistened. Blinking slowly, a single tear ran from the corner of her left eye as she stared unseeingly up at the high ceiling above her.

That had been a very dark time in her life. Everything seemed so bleak and pointless to her before her mentors had taken her in and taught her better. That broken little girl had been drifting aimlessly with no rhyme or reason from place to place before Azriel and Sarakiel had given her a purpose, which she was extremely thankful to them for, (even if she hadn't shown it in her younger years). Don't get her wrong, she prided herself for having the tenacity and durability to survive those rough years, but she still possessed a healthy respect and fear for the streets and the new level of hell they presented.

Running an errant hand through her hair, Aria shook her head, clearing it of the melancholy thoughts like a wet dog shaking off water. She sounded like some depressed…like some sort of depressed blueberry. (Yeah not the most creative sentence, but she blamed it on the lingering feelings from the dream).

Speaking of blueberries…

Checking the time on her phone, which said it was six minutes after 2:30 AM—good freaking lord!—Aria thought back to the events of last night as she climbed out of her sleeping bag and tiptoed away. Jack, Raf and Miko were all still sound asleep thanks to the ungodly hour.

After the conclusion of her story, she and Optimus finally laid sights on one another and things went straight to Hell. Figuratively speaking of course. She barely managed to escape the room without anyone noticing her panic. Thankfully, the others had been oblivious to the conflict between her and Optimus (though she suspected Ironhide and Ratchet knew something), and her escape went undetected. By the time Optimus probably rounded the corner after her, Aria had long disappeared. Then later, she just barely managed to avoid a 'conversation' with him once again by pretending to be asleep in her sleeping bag like the kids in the main room.

Yeah, she was a coward.

But could anyone blame her?

She literally had had her first kiss with Optimus as well as her first overall romantic contact with someone else, period. And that's not mentioning this plethora of new feelings she abruptly became aware of feeling! How the hell was Aria supposed to react?

Rubbing her knuckles, the blonde-haired girl dearly wished that this was a problem she could solve with her fists. (At least resolve it peacefully, that is). Things seemed so much easier when her current problems were only her health and her next opponent among other things.

Sighing, Aria raised her gaze, only to screech to a halt (both mentally and physically) when she realized she wasn't alone in the hall. And just her luck, it was her scarlet and royal blue nightmare.

Great, just my freaking luck, she thought miserably, her mood already taking another dip for the worse.

Practically frozen in time, both of them stared at each other mutely, waiting for the other to speak.

Eventually though, Optimus decided to break the silence first. "What are you doing up at this hour, little one?"

Some part of Aria, which was still the spastic and untrusting inner-bitch, instantaneously reared its head inside of her, already forming a snarky, smart-mouthed reply that would likely kick-start a whole new batch of chaos. Her mouth opened and the blonde-haired girl went to retort with something that went along the lines of "I could say the same of you." However, instead, she unexpectedly found herself telling a vague rendition of the truth, her lips forming the words, "I was having trouble sleeping."

Dammit. Why is the truth so easy with him? I'm not a good person. I shouldn't be so comfortable with him. I shouldn't…trust him so easily if I'm not trustworthy myself.

As if sensing where her thoughts were going, the Prime's expression turned serious as he said softly, "Aria, when are we going to talk about it?"

She sighed, massaging the bridge of her nose. "I was sort of hoping never, but I guess it can't be helped," she muttered lowly, shoulders sinking in defeat.

"You make it sound horrible."

Aria huffed, trying to muster up some sort of trace of familiar anger that she could use as an emotional crutch to support herself and her severe lack of confidence, but she found none. "You don't understand. Whatever this—" she gestured between the two of them "—is between us; it's not going to work because I'm standing on my frozen lake."

It almost physically hurt her to say that. I'm sorry Optimus, but this is the way it's gotta be. No matter how much it hurts both of us.

"I do not know what that means."

Aria took a deep breath, eyes watering. "It's something I learned in Sayoc training," she began quietly, voice shaking slightly. "Your frozen lake is the name for what you want the most in the world, and you want it…you want it so badly that you'll do anything to get it. And your heart takes over, but because of that, it destroys you in the end. It's right there, just sitting in the middle of this frozen lake. And you think you're fast enough to…to go out there and grab it before the ice cracks."

Belatedly, the girl realized how close to some kind of a confession she had just come to making by saying that. Did she really like him that way, in the sense that she may want their relationship to be more than just close friends or guardian and charge?

"And what you do not realize is you are already standing on the ice and it is falling apart around you," he said, simultaneously finishing the metaphor and arguing his own point.

She didn't reply, unable to look at him despite how much doing so hurt. He should not be with someone like her. That she was certain of. And her dream had just served to remind her of why. White knights should never associate with black queen's. She already had at least eight bodies lying in her wake as proof.

Silence reigned, neither of them daring to break it as they figured what to say next without inciting some national incident. Eventually though, her guardian was the first to break it.

"I understand. I shall give you some space, Aria," he said, turning away.

And with that, he was gone, leaving the grey-eyed girl to her ravenous thoughts and shattering heart.

I'm sorry but it's for your own safety.

—Later—

"Stupid, stupid, stupid idiot…" I hissed at myself among a plethora of other words half-verbalized, low swears, massaging my face rather roughly. "…Couldn't just let it go…had to jump in headfirst like a buffoon. Stupid idiot…"

After my talk with Optimus, I felt as though nothing short of an atomic bomb would save me from my misery. There was just a myriad of tangled emotions coursing through me that made things ten times worse. Taking my Charger, I figured that maybe a good brawl in one of the nearby cities might alleviate some of what I felt. (I didn't really give a damn that I woke the kids with my rather loud exit). Fighting, for some reason, always helped me think better. However, as soon as I got close to the location, something immediately made me stop. Before I knew it, I had changed my mind, turning tail and booked it out of there. Few hours later, I found myself standing in a snowy park somewhere up in Elko County, watching a bunch of kids play despite the cold weather.

But no amount of cold temperature would numb the pain I felt.

"Damn fuck, this is all your fault. If you hadn't opened up to him, you wouldn't be in this position…"

Primus, I wanted to slap myself. My insides felt like they had encountered a decrepit, demonic mixer. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I feel like I had just got my heart broken or something?

Hearing laughter, my attention fell on the frozen lake—how ironic—not too far away. A young man and woman were now skating around on the ice, laughing even as they wobbled and teetered unsteadily on their skates. The woman in particular seemed to be having difficulty trying to find her balance, reminding me of that fawn from that old Disney movie. What had it been called? Bamboo? Bambina? Oh, yeah. Bambi. Anyways, the man with her, who was far more coordinated, smiled gently, encouraging the woman with his arms outstretched as he waited for her to get closer to him. He easily caught her at the last second when she tripped, both chuckling as he then proceeded to guide her through the proper skating motions. Both smiled so easily, mutual affection clear enough that Helen Keller could probably see it herself.

And there it was again, that odd ache in my chest that was both familiar yet alien. It reminded me of the times I spent with my baby sister except it was different, more intense. Was it...?

I shook my head. No, it couldn't be. I refused to allow it to be so. It couldn't be possible anyways. We were two completely different people on opposite ends of the spectrum. No, I couldn't be...in love...with Optimus Prime.

Sighing, I shifted a little where I sat, hearing a familiar tinkling sound as I did so. Grey gaze shifting downwards, I found myself looking at Raoul's old dog tags.

His words came back to haunt me once more. "You have got to have faith, little dove. Faith and trust. Promise me you'll remember that."

My hands curled around the metal ID tags, mind drifting to the memories of my friends and those I had considered family. Was it really that simple?

"What would you do?" I asked the metal bits almost rhetorically.

Closing my eyes, I could see them all now, all their reactions, expressions, and responses.

Rat, Thorn, Ghost, and Foxfire would all be gaping at me, surprised by the fact that I had kissed someone at all. Then they would pounce on me like a wolf on a slab of meat, asking me a million different questions per second once they swallowed their shock.

Glen and Maggie would freak with the latter of the two eventually congratulating me while the other would either start hyperventilating or think he was crazy and go look outside for flying pigs.

Mariposa, bless her heart, would probably cheer heartily and slap my ass, proudly commending me for finally 'getting some' and not being a prude as she vehemently insisted I was in our younger years. Of course, then, knowing her, she'd want to hear every gory little detail alongside Fiona, who would be threatening me with a Molotov cocktail and a Dragunov sniper rifle unless I spilled everything.

Sam would likely be the same after choking on a sip of his beer. I could just see that Cheshire cat-like grin on his face. The one I always felt like either slapping, smashing into a cream pie, or just plain avoiding like the devil because lots of teasing remarks were sure to follow.

As for Cobra, he'd just merely raise an eyebrow questioningly at me, asking several unspoken questions without really saying a thing. And for some reason, that would feel a million times worse than the other's trying to bombard me with questions or interrogating me.

Sarakiel, the ponce, would of course be an ass and tell me I was a sissy for running away, though there'd probably be a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

And finally, Raoul and probably even Azriel would encourage me to go for it, after cautioning me to be careful that is and the latter threatening to bash OP's helm in if he didn't treat me right. Trust me, that Russian could be pretty damn scary when he wanted to be, despite me forever dubbing him as a large, Russian teddy bear. Then again, Raoul could be intimidating too, even if he didn't have the height factor Azriel did.

But I knew none of that for certain since over half the people mentioned were long since dead.

"Are you alright miss?"

Turning, I found myself looking an old man. The state of his clothes made it clear that he was homelessness, but his distinctive posture spoke of a veteran. Despite his grizzled appearance and not-so-great smell, he appeared politely concerned as he addressed me.

Curious as to why he asked, I realized belatedly that I had been close to crying. Damn. I was usually better at controlling my emotions than this. Or at least, I had been until a certain mech entered my life.

"It's been a long week," I tried to play off, taking a deep breath of crisp air.

Brushing off the snow, he took a seat next to me on the bench. "Perhaps, but something tells me it's a little more than that." He had a knowing look in his eyes as he peered at me.

I eyed him. You never knew who could be your next enemy or ally, even a seemingly harmless old man. "Maybe, but I don't see how it's your concern, sir." My tone was light, more suspicious and wary than rude.

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "My apologies. I'm just a nosy old man who figured he might try to get in his good deed for the day. My mistake. I'll leave you in peace." He made to get up.

"Wait," I called, sighing a little. "Sorry, I'm just a little overly cautious by nature. Thank you for your concern."

He waved it off, settling back down. "It's alright. What branch?"

I noticed he was looking at Raoul's dog tags. "He was in the Army. Gulf War."

Humming, he nodded. "A friend then."

"Father-figure more like. Was probably the best thing to happen to me as a kid."

"My condolences," he said quite sincerely noticing the use of past tense and the expression on my face.

"'s alright. It happened a long time ago."

"Bet it never stops hurting though," he surmised quite keenly, hitting the nail directly on the head. "I know how that feels."

I bobbed my head minutely but didn't reply.

"So what was it?" he abruptly asked, and I knew he wasn't talking about what had taken Raoul from my life.

Exhaling, I slumped in my seat. My posture spoke of resigned defeat and an extremely heavy burden; I might as well tell him as payment for his kindness.

"There's this guy I really like. Possibly even love. I'm not sure yet," I admitted, long sheet of golden-blonde hanging in front of my face. "He's super sweet. But he…I'm too…we're so different. I doubt be would even go for someone like me as cliché as it sounds."

The old vet frowned, forehead wrinkling slightly. "Miss, if I may, I doubt that is even remotely likely."

The tears were back; I laughed wetly, but it sounded hollow. "I'm not as nice as I appear, sir, not even close. I'm just an oily, grease stain in his otherwise pristine life. Besides, he has a lot of responsibilities. Even if he did reciprocate whatever I feel for him, he'd probably say that we can't engage because it is the only way to keep both of us safe or something. I don't want to cause more trouble for him."

"Ah, another military man then," the grey-haired man guessed, nodding like it all made sense.

I dipped my head, muttering something along the lines of "something like that" under my breath.

"Well," he continued, "from my own experience, I know that even if he was the regional director or something; he would try to make time if he truly loves you. It won't matter of you aren't exactly a nice person. He should love you all the same."

My haired swayed back and forth I shook my head with amused skepticism. "You make it sound so easy. I mean, look at me, I'm standing on my frozen lake." Then I realized what I just said and sighed. "And now I'm sounding like a pining broken record."

He smirked. "Maybe, but I've found that there is always more than one way to cross a frozen lake, no matter how difficult it seems at first."

I didn't take the bait, silence reigning for a bit as we watched all the people. They seemed so different to me; sometimes, I just felt so alien compared to those of my species if that makes sense.

Eventually, the man broke the tense silence with a soft sigh, though his gaze never strayed from the individuals before us.

"You know, I met a Gurkha once, back in…oh, I don't quite remember exactly when. Anyways he was an amazing knife fighter I tell you. Made handling that blade of his look like it was easy as pie. Anywho, I was young and dumb, and pretty stupid and reckless too. I nearly got myself killed a couple times doing some really stupid things. Well one day he pulls me aside, and you can imagine how terrified I was at the time. I thought he was going to chop my head off with how he was fingering his khukuri." The man laughed softly in a fond manner, eyes a little distant. "In any case, the Gurkha—Baburam was his name—looks me directly in the eye, and I never forget it when he said to me, 'The heart needs discipline. Without discipline there is no honor. Without honor, we are nothing.' It was probably the best advice anyone has given me."

"Where'd he pick that up? A fortune cookie?" was my dry remark, but I understood his point.

He chuckled. "Probably."

Silence reined once more as I thought about what he said. But something still nagged at my heart and mind as I did so. "A while back," I began once more, gaze thoughtful. "You started to tell me that there was more than one way to cross a frozen lake." It was both a statement and a question.

The homeless vet looked at me, smiling softly before answering. "Do not run, walk slowly. Stop to look at everything. Take your time, and all will come to you."

For the first time that day, I genuinely smiled.

—Later, Optimus' POV—

The day had been nothing short of exhausting in almost every definition of the word.

Hours after the rather spark-crushing conversation with Aria, he and his team had been faced with a hectic showdown between Megatron and Airachnid. He had attempted to use this to distract himself, but to insufficient effect. Every other moment that his life wasn't in mortal danger, her image filled his processor as his spark ached like it had tried to reach for the distant sun and had gotten burned instead.

Now back at base, with no mayhem to divert his anywhere else except the storm raging in his processor, Optimus felt lost for lack of a better word. He kept thinking of how she looked this morning, that pained expression on her face that spoke volumes to him. It proved to be almost physically painful for him to look at. He had only intended to say his part and then give her space to organize her thoughts, but it somehow did not end up that way. Or at least, it felt significantly less like a "I will talk to you later" and more like a very uncertain goodbye, which was not his intention.

But at the point in time, he remembered he saw so much pain and fear in her eyes, despite how she struggled to mask it.

She looked like she hated every word she uttered to him this morning, though she still did. But why did he see that note of fear in her eyes?

Did she fear him? His reaction?

Optimus wished he knew.

"Having femme trouble, Prime?" a voice asked, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Looking up, the Prime found the solid form of the weapon's specialist leaning against the wall, his gaze on him.

"Pardon?" he said, a little taken aback by Ironhide's blunt statement.

The other mech rolled his optics, huffing as he crossed his arms over his chassis irritably. It was one of the many actions they had picked up from the humans. He wore a stern, meaningful glare as he said, "You know what I'm talking about Prime. You and Aria. You've been avoiding each other the past few days like you've got Cybonic Plague or something."

Thankful it was only just the two of them (plus Ratchet) on base, Optimus suppressed a wince at the mention of the Plague. Even after several months, he still disliked being reminded of that ordeal.

"Then," the ebony-colored mech continued, "this morning you looked like someone had just used an energon harvester on you before running over you and backing up again. And let's not forget that non one's seen that charge of yours all day."

Frag, he'd forgotten how observant his old friend could be. For all his love of beating up Decepticon's and all things related to his cannons, the weapon's specialist had known him for a long time, long enough to know how to read him quite well even if others couldn't.

Incognizant of what he should say to that, Optimus watched as Ratchet the came up beside Ironhide and laid a steady servo on the dark mech's shoulder plate, his optics on the Prime. Apparently, the CMO had been following their conversation. (He almost could have laughed; trust his oldest friends to know him better than he almost knew himself).

"Optimus, we don't pretend to know what exactly is going on between you and Aria," the medic said gently. "But you should know that some things just take a little time to be set straight." There was a knowing spark in his optics as he said this.

The Prime vented lowly, posture slumping a little. "Perhaps old friend, but not all things. Some are inevitable, whether we wish it so or not."

Abruptly, the two other mech's snorted derisively, as if they found something about his statement amusing.

"I find that highly unlikely, Optimus," Ratchet spoke, a wry smile in place.

"I'll say," Ironhide rumbled in agreement.

Optimus looked at them, waiting for one of the mech's to elaborate, but Ratchet shook his helm.

"Don't say you haven't noticed it too, Optimus," the medic said pointedly. "Aria is…"—he seemed to search around for the proper wording—"…a bit of a loner when it comes to others. She is more than likely still having trouble adjusting to being more social. Beings like her often need more time than others to acclimate with their environment."

Optimus couldn't help but feel that the CMO's description of Aria was spot on. He remembered quite well how she had started out, cynical, untrusting, more than a little cautious and wary, not to mention mysterious and quiet with her stoic ways. And while she was good with words, there often came instances where she tended to use actions over words to speak. In fact, she appeared to better understand the action of most rather than what was said.

"You are both correct," he spoke. "I have been somewhat foolish as of late to overlook that."

Just then, a call came in on his internal comm. link, the one reserved for non-emergencies. But to his surprise, when he checked the identity of the caller, it turned out to be from the last person he expected at the moment.

-{Hey Optimus, could…could we meet up somewhere?}- the voice of Aria spoke softly when he answered, sounding almost nervous.-{I think we need to have a talk.}-

He glanced in the direction of his CMO and weapons specialist, both of whom seemed to know who was on the other end of the call and gave him encouraging looks.

Venting slightly, he said, "Of course Aria. Where?"

She told him to just pick her up at their normal meet up area in front of her garage. They could decide where to go after that.

Ending the call, the Prime made to leave, but Ratchet stopped him.

"Optimus, before you go, there's one last medical exam I would like perform," the medic called, gesturing for him to sit on a medic berth, which the Prime quickly obliged. "Now stay still."

Letting the scarlet-orange and white mech get close, he watched out of the corner of his optic as the medic fiddled around a bit near his audial before appearing to install something as he quickly received some sort of data transfer.

"There." Ratchet drew back, looking a proud.

"What is it?" he questioned, reviewing the data he had been given, though having trouble understanding what it was for as the protocols were locked.

"Well thanks to some of the work Ironhide brought me from Que, I was able to complete the project you asked me to look into. You now have a fully solid holoform that will allow you to interact with humans more closely. However, you'll only be able to access it when you are in your vehicular form, and it can go a couple miles from your alt-mode at most."

Processing what had been said, a tiny smile quirked Optimus' lip-plates. "Thank you my old friend, both of you."

—Aria's POV—

Truth be told, I have never been one to run from my problems, or I don't do it often unless there are special circumstances involved. But frankly, I really started to wonder if I should have applied it to this situation instead of facing it head on like I currently was.

As I've mentioned countless times before, all that mushy, feely crap has never been my cup of tea, let alone area of expertise. I do what I can with Izzy, Jack, June (both of them), and everyone else I let in (somewhat), but sometimes I'm just mimicking the motions of life, watching others interact so as to get a clue what to do. Acting doesn't count though, since in those scenario's I'm just pretending to be someone I'm not.

"Okay, okay," I coached myself, inhaling deeply before trying again. Back and forth my feet carried me in front of my mechanic's garage, pacing rapidly like a caged animal. "Try again. 'Optimus, I'm sorry for—'"

I stopped short, growling as I raked a hand through my hair. "Dammit, I don't even know what I'm sorry for. Do I apologize for k-k-kissing him? Do I apologize for running away like a fucking coward? What the fuck do I do?! Dammit! I need more time!"

In and out, I breathed deeply, confused aggravation thrumming just below the skin. By now my long blonde hair was mussed enough to warrant a raised brow or two and the odd suspicious look.

Then, as if hearing my plea for more time, the sound of a familiar engine grew closer to my location.

Dammit. I'm not ready for this.

Turning just as he rounded the corner, my grey eyes followed his movements as he came to a perfect stop right before me, the passenger side door popping open in invitation.

Well it was now or never.

Gathering up all the courage I possessed, I inhaled deeply one last time before taking the plunge. I just hoped that my audacity wouldn't lead me astray this time, or worse, make me regret something.

—No One's POV—

The drive was quiet. Neither of them knew where they were going, just that they needed to be far away from any interruptions for this conversation to happen. However, that did not make the atmosphere any less strained or tense. Both of them could feel it, that underlying sense of a storm brewing, a circle of wolves prowling around the fight ring, waiting for the blood to spill…for something to happen.

Unasked and unarticulated questions swirled around both their minds, stressing, wondering. Unknown to either of them, many of their questions were quite similar.

What were they going to say to one another?

How would this go down?

Was this even possible?

What was this anyways? Just a spur of the moment thing or something more?

Could they dare to find out? Even in the middle of a war?

…In the end, would they walk away from this, their friendship shattered and torn apart? Or would it perhaps change and for the better?

Eventually, the duo stopped at in a forested clearing, one where the trees were tall enough to hide Optimus' towering height.

Hesitantly, Aria climbed out of the Autobot's alt-mode, figuring that this confrontation was best done face to face. However, even when she got a decent distance from the Prime that allowed him to transform, he didn't, and she had a sinking feeling that he wasn't going to do so. At least not until she spoke.

Well it's now or never I guess.

"Look Optimus I'm sorry," she began hurriedly, twitching haphazardly with the severity of her nerves. "I'm sorry for kissing you. I shouldn't have done that. I was way out of line. I was tired and confused, and I'm so sorry. It won't happen—"

As she was speaking though, Aria faintly registered an odd humming sound, like when you flick on one of those vintage power generators that belong in museums. Not only that, but she noted a faint flash of blue in her peripheral before a pair of warm lips descended on hers, silencing her long-winded apology. Brain going short holiday due to euphoria-induced numbness, the golden-haired girl didn't even register that the warm lips on hers weren't metallic (if only slightly in taste) but very much human until the man kissing her pulled back.

Temporarily left speechless, Aria could only stare at him, open mouthed as some scarcely coherent part of her was left wondering just what the hell was going on.

Standing before her was a man. A tall—even taller than her freakish, not-so-feminine height; enough to be considered freakish himself as he had to be around seven feet or so—and devastatingly handsome man with beautiful crystalline sapphire blue eyes, a five-o'clock shadow across his jaw, and dark hair that was so black it looked blue and had scarlet dyed tips. He gave her the impression of a soldier from the way he stood and the overall crispness of his outfit, despite how his hair was just a bit shorter than Jack's raven mop. Some part of Aria wanted to reach out and run her hand through the midnight blue-black locks to see if they were as silky-soft as they looked, but she resisted, taking in his round but slightly angular face and pale skin without a single visible blemish on it, minus the makings of that five-o'clock shadow on his chin.

Anyways, over his obviously muscular physique, he wore a form-fitting black shirt under a mostly red leather jacket with a folded collar. It was similar to some biker jackets you sometimes see but with pockets on it like military style blouse's, and those were colored either grey, white or a dark blue like some parts of the jacket. As for the rest of him, he wore blue jeans, which showed off his long legs nicely, a pair of dog tags, and black steel-toed boots like hers.

Altogether, he was extremely good-looking.

Okay. Now Aria admittedly was not much for boys, if it wasn't obvious already. But this guy was completely drool-worthy in her book; her definition of a handsome man. But oddest of all? He seemed familiar, like really familiar, as if she should know him type of familiar. (You get it).

And judging by how one of his thin blue-black brows rose and his perfectly kissable lips quirked upwards, Aria's gaze (and blush) had not gone unnoticed.

Then he spoke.

"Finally got you to be quiet," he said with a small smile, Optimus's slightly husky voice coming from his lips.

What-? How-? When-? Lips mutely forming the words, Aria's eyes fell on the Prime's alt-mode, and her mind finally made the connection. A holoform! But it wasn't blinking in and out of solidarity, as shown by the faint dimming and brightening of colors on the complex hologram, (especially the eyes), like Ironhide's occasionally did. No, in fact, if she didn't know better, she would have thought the being before her was completely human because he looked so real. The only things that even hinted that he wasn't completely real was the lack of noise he made apart from speaking, even when he moved, and the odd qualities of both his shadow and footprints.

"O-Optimus…?" she squeaked out hesitantly.

The man's soft smile widened, revealing a few perfect, pearly-white teeth as he nodded; Aria fell mute once more, unsure what to do or even say.

"Now, let me ask you this little one: what if I enjoyed it?"

She gaped at him, thought-tracks screeching to a halt as his words registered in her mind.

Those sapphire blue eyes bore into her as he continued speaking softly. "Would you be willing to consider seeing wherever this thing between us leads?"

Is he really asking me what I think he's asking?

His face was impossibly close now, and she finally noted just how nervous he also seemed, though he kept talking. His voice at a low whisper now. "Would you be willing to forget, even for just a nano-klik that we are not two vastly different species, but just two beings in the universe, together?" One of his large hands moved up to cradle her cheek gently.

Part of her wanted to cry at the sweetness of it all, of him. Did she dare take a leap of faith that might end spectacularly or fail miserably?

Mimicking how he held her face with one of her own hands, she asked, "Could you even want, much less accept, someone like me?"

In hindsight, saying that felt cheesy, like some bad romance novel; but her excuse was that half her brain felt a little too hazy to come up with something better or to try and elaborate on what she meant. Nonetheless, Aria felt like she had to ask that, if only to warn him that she wasn't the best person in existence.

He chuckled lowly, inching closer still. "I could ask the same of you."

Finally, something in her gave way.

Screw it all to the Pit and Hell. For once in my life, I'm going to do something selfish for a change. Consequences be damned.

Then she closed the distance between them, mentally flipping off every romance cliché that flew to mind as she lost herself in the wonderful feeling of his lips on hers.

God this is so good.

And there you have it folks! One cheesy, romantic chapter ending served up hot. Hopefully, no one was too out of character, but like I mentioned up at the top: sometimes writing this chapter (and the two ones after this) felt like pulling teeth out of my skull. Don't get me wrong. I love this story and never intend to abandon it, but the trouble I was having was driving me nuts.

Plus, I have two- no, at least three new story ideas for The Legend of Zelda: The Twilight Princess, Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and an Xover between Twilight and Star Wars: the Clone Wars. All those ideas have been bugging me to get out now, but I'm having trouble writing them out since I took such a long break from writing. Oh the woes of a writer, right? So yeah, you guys can look forward to me adding a couple new sappy romance stories in the future and then stressing because I have so many incomplete stories on my plate. Whatever, I'll manage somehow. I think.

Anyways, here's a little teaser for you guys but in the next chapter you guys can look forward to Winter break with Aria, Isabelle, Optimus and one other Autobot. And for the one after it I think, well, let's just say that there's going to be a bit of a nose-dive in their happy high. That's all for now!

Remember that the Five-Review Policy is in effect so please feel free to favorite, follow, and review on myself and my story and please check out my polls. I do try to change them every so often. And while some of the polls don't seem relevant (either to this story or others or life in general), trust me, they are in some manner.

Toodles!