Inquisitive whirring and clicking had Raf lifting his gaze from his laptop, turning to Bumblebee as he addressed him. "Now that you mention it, Bee, I do smell smoke. Is something on fire?"
"Is it Ratchet's processor?" Miko joked. "Did we finally fry it?"
Said mech turned at the mention of his name, and while previous experience dealing with their shenanigans would certainly warrant a shorting processor, this was not the case. Yet the scent of smoke still registered in his olfactory sensors, which begged the question, where was it coming from?
"No worries, it's just me," Tess put in.
The medic looked at her, balking when he found the blonde to be sitting at the couch with a piece of rolled, flaming paper in her hand. She held it over a small trash bin, her vision fixated on the material as it smoldered and then crumbled, embers drifting slowly into the garbage beneath.
"What in the actual frag are you doing?!" he demanded.
Surprised at hearing him curse, the young woman glanced up at him. "It's fine, it's contained."
"That could change very quickly! Put that out this instant! There is sensitive and irreplaceable material in this bunker!"
She blew a raspberry and placed the paper on the concrete, stomping it out with her boot before cleaning up the remains.
He choked on his words for a moment, completely at a loss. Finally he was able to articulate, "Why would you do that?!"
She shrugged, snapping on the lighter in her other hand. "I like fire."
"Oh sweet Primus, she's a pyromaniac! You really can pick them, can't you?" The last part of the statement was aimed at Jack, Miko, and Raf, who looked back at him sheepishly.