Authors' Note: Happy New Year! For the full story about why Sam has recently spent time in jail and why the OC Autobot femme Radio Flyer (aka RaFly) is Bumblebee's temporary replacement, please see our fics "Reunion" and "Consequences."

For those of you looking for a fic where bond dreams and roomie Red Bull psychosis work hand in hand, you've come to the right place. This prologue also has on-site research. Enjoy!

The human need for privacy was something most Autobots struggled with, and apparently my folks did, too.

My first day of freedom after I'd gotten out of jail, I'd proposed the "wrong" way in Mikaela's mind by asking her to marry me on what she saw as an impulse. Dropping to one knee and professing my undying love apparently didn't count as putting any thought into the event, so on my second day of freedom, we'd gone ring shopping. And now, my first weekend out of jail, we were on our way to Yellowstone so I could try, again, to ask the most amazing woman on the planet to spend the rest of her life with me and hopefully get it right this time.

So naturally, my parents decided it was time for a second honeymoon/family reunion and the Witwickys, Winnebago and all, were going to visit as many geysers as they could stomach.

Privacy was a bigger obstacle than I'd thought. It's not like we needed to be alone on a mountaintop - I just needed enough people to buzz off for me to get all the words out without sounding like a complete idiot and Mikaela to get out a few very important words of her own.

Thanks to a few hours of browsing reviews and must-see attractions on TripAdvisor, I'd had it all planned out. After a day of sight-seeing, we'd have dinner Saturday at the Mammoth Hotel, take a romantic evening stroll around the travertine terraces, and there in front of the Cleopatra Terrace, I would drop to one knee (again) and pop the question. But then Mom and Dad "just happened" to show up at our restaurant and talked a hostess into getting them seated three tables away. I tried to ignore them, but Mom kept making encouraging hand gestures behind Mikaela's back. While they were poring over the dessert menu, we made our escape on foot to the hot springs. Unfortunately, I'd underestimated the stench from the mineral pools and the bacteria that couldn't get enough of them, and I figured "doing it right" wouldn't involve Mikaela holding her nose with the hand that wasn't waiting for a ring.

The next day, we'd gone down to Old Faithful (slightly less romantic name, but it was the thought that counted - I hoped), once again tailed by my folks. They didn't even bother to try to keep a low profile this time. But the idea of proposing in front of them plus the hordes of tourists brought on enough of a panic attack that I checked over my shoulder for Decepticons. It was made worse by a kid who, inspired by the spontaneous eruptions, lost his lunch five feet away from us.

In petty frustration, I texted RaFly asking her to let the air out of my parents' tires.

/How many?/ she asked.

/All of them. They need to know they're being put in time out this time./

RaFly was good, I'll give her that. My parents' Winnebago was sitting on the rims by the time we got to RaFly, innocently parked in her alt three stalls away.

"Take us away from the crowds," I said and hoped it didn't sound like begging.

And that's how we ended up at the trailhead for Yellowstone's Grand Canyon. There was a chilly breeze for the end of June, so there weren't too many people around. I'm not sure how long we hiked before the trail opened up into an overlook with enough room that we could step aside for a moment. With the backdrop of a majestic waterfall, I dropped to one knee, babbled something I hoped was coherent, she'd grinned and said, "Yes," and I managed to get the ring on her finger without my hands shaking or me dropping it.

A chipmunk got nosy afterwards, but we were too busy with a celebratory kiss to mind much. Unlike Mom's Beyonce-inspired ring hints or the staring crowds, this was a quirky detail that we would remember with fondness.

But now we had an audience, again. Radio Flyer flashed her lights inquisitively as we reached the parking lot and chirped as if I'd hit a fob button. Mikaela tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting her ring catch the light of the headlamps and the lights flashed twice more. RaFly chirped louder this time and her doors sprang open like a mechanical "Bring it in."

Mikaela laughed and patted the hood of the station wagon before getting behind the wheel. "You're the first one we've told," she said genially. "Does that mean we have your blessing?"

The doors closed politely once we were both strapped in, but the radio blared loudly enough to send any local wildlife running.

"Goin' to the chapel and we're

Gonna get maaaaarried…"

"NO!"

Our first unofficial wedding plan was in complete unison.

"I'm not arguing about getting maaaaaaaaaarried," MIkaela clarified.

"We're definitely planning on that," I agreed. "But no chapels. Mom's not going ANYWHERE near a house of God. Especially not if 'Bee's invited."

Mom was weird enough under normal circumstances that any priest would get a migraine, but we'd be threatened with an exorcism once she got carried away with her baby boy's special day,

"Besides,"I added, "we're not all that traditional."

Sure, I'd gotten down on one knee and brought a ring and everything, but I didn't think we'd be able to keep up the impression of an ordinary couple for more than a few minutes. We were headed for a hotel in a camouflaged alien who was serenading us with the Dixie Cups, after all.

"What?" Mikaela asked innocently, "you're saying you aren't imagining me in a long white dress?"

"Don't get me wrong," I said, holding up both hands. "I love you in a white dress. You made a hell of an impression that day I left for college."

It had made more of a lasting memory than Mom's waffle iron bald spot, even if that came up more often than my favorite memories of Mikaela.

"But?"

"But you're under no obligation to do a checklist from some 'My Pretty Princessy Wedding' website or something."

She didn't laugh at that, but I saw the grin she'd been sporting for the whole walk back broaden and she slid one hand off the steering wheel to intertwine her fingers with mine. "And I won't hold it against you if you blow off every 'unconventional' suggestion your mother can come up with."

Mom thought of Mikaela as both a strong, independent woman and (bewilderingly) a kindred free spirit. I didn't want to think what kind of theme might come out of that.

"So, no chapel. White dress negotiable." I considered.

"If your mom insists on one being there, offer to wear it yourself," she suggested sweetly.

I wasn't a fan of monkey suits, but I'd put one on to not worry about a ballgown. "Negotiable between the two of us," I clarified. "Got any strong feelings on a date?"

"I've got strong feelings on it being you and me and some very unusual witnesses," she said. "As long as we have that guaranteed, I'm flexible on most of the details."

RaFly took that moment to cue up some Bruno Mars:

"It's a beautiful night. We're looking for something dumb to do.

Hey, baby, I think I wanna marry you."

That gave me sudden pause. "Um, you're doing a pretty good impression of a Camaro. How long have you been working on this?"

She scrolled through a few more intros, ranging from "From This Moment On" to U2's "All I Want Is You," but it wasn't until she stopped on "At Last" that I recognized someone else's style.

"Okay," I amended. "When did you get 'Bee to make a playlist?" Communications with the Antarctic were usually formal and reserved for official purposes, which meant the blog was likely to be partially to blame.

"As an Autobot scout, I cannot divulge the full details, but this has been in my archives in anticipation of it being needed during his reassignment."

Mikaela chuckled, shaking her head. "Can you blame him? He's been 'shipping us since Day 1, and this is the first time since we met that he's been away long-term."

I grinned, glancing again at that ring - my ring - sparkling on her finger. Without 'Bee, there was no way I would have ever caught Mikeala's eye. Of course, NOW was the time the big lug would pull that stunt, land me in jail until trial, stick me with a summer's worth of community service, and get himself sentenced to the Autobot equivalent of hard labor in Siberia. I wasn't going to wait six months for him to get back before proposing, but he really should be a part of this. I'd have to share the memory tonight with Optimus over the brother-bond so he could pass it along to 'Bee. A sudden thought struck me and I glanced up to Mikaela. "Let's make 'Bee the DJ."

With a sharp nod, Mikaela said, "Perfect!"

"Great!" RaFly chimed in. "Should I tell him?"

"No," I said, "that's something he deserves to hear from me. I'll Skype him later. Until I get to talk to him, let's keep this all on the down-low."

"Yeah," Mikaela agreed, tossing me a smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes. "Let's not tell anyone just yet."

"Maybe announce it when we get together with your side of the family for the 4th of July?"

She squinted thoughtfully at the road before us. "I think that'll work."