Because I had all this diplomatic training, I waited until my Warrior Goddess and her guy got out of RaFly's front seats, then rendered my opinion.

"Aww, hell, naw."

"Keep it down, Wheelie," RaFly warned me.

"They talkin' like you the only option this side of Cybertron for security."

"We'll talk about this later," she stalled.

"Your face'll talk about this later," I muttered.

She cut me off by switching to her holoform and sauntering off.

I popped the lock on the back doors and dropped to the ground, switching back to my altform. I didn't circle the squishies like some jumpy sheepdog, but I blew off some steam doing doughnuts in the parking lot. RaFly ignored me for a while, but when I started ramming the RV, she sighed.

"And this is why we call him Mini-Mojo," Judy commented, "This little brat makes our junkie chihuahua look like he's in a coma."

"DAMN STRAIGHT!" I asserted my pride.

"Good Wheelie," RaFly responded in her best preschool teacher voice. "Just give me a minute and we can have that talk like I promised."

Impatient with how long her "just give me a minute" conversations tended to take, I resumed my sheep-herding tactics. She didn't respond to that, but gave Ron and Judy a slight nod.

"There are some logistics that we need to work out," she said. "I'll be back with a game plan for immediate security shortly."

Samuel Prime popped up then (with chocolate on his nose and looking a hell of a lot happier than earlier) and delayed her more because he'd been macking on Warrior Goddess while he was supposed to be paying attention and RaFly had to repeat the whole "game plan for immediate security" comment. And like the big dumb squishie he was, he had to restate it to make sure he was hearing her right. Meanwhile, just a minute was stretching out forever, so I appealed to a higher power.

I screeched to a halt against Warrior Goddess' sandal and revved my engine a couple of times since she might just understand what was bothering me. She accommodatingly picked me up and I transformed, draping over her shoulder.

"It's okay," she soothed. "What'll help? A battery pack? Spongebob Squarepants?"

She was treating me like a toddler and damn, but it felt nice.

"Battery pack and a TALK WITH RAFLY!" I kept the four-letter words out of my comment but I gave the femme in question a little-droid-of-death-glare. "SHE PROMISED."

Yeah, I was tattling, but first I was shunned, then left behind, and then ignored for five minutes. I had a right to be peeved.

"Just with RaFly or do you want some moral support?" she offered, patting me on my optics.

"I can take her down myself." I revved my engine again for emphasis.

"No need to take anyone down," Samuel said a little more sternly. "RaFly, fix whatever the problem is here and then let us know the final details."

"It will be my pleasure."

Mikaela set me down and I went back to my altform, driving like a senile granny back to the station wagon.

"Yeah, we'll talk about it later," I muttered as soon as she closed the doors. "Ya wanna tell me why you think you can dictate out all the plans without having that conversation about security with me first?"

She considered for a moment, putting on some soothing Enya like I was on hold with customer service.

"Don't frigging thank me for patiently waiting," I snapped. "Deal with me straight or shut off the soundtrack."

"I have every intention of dealing straight with you." If she were one of those humans, she might have gotten snippy with her tone, but that wasn't RaFly's style. It came out like an annoyed babysitter instead of a cranky boss. "The honest answer is that I have felt protective of Mikaela for the entirety of our relationship and that is why I have taken the initiative where her personal security is concerned."

"Yeah, but you've just gotten promoted to Primely duties and you ain't the one who can be in more than one place at a time. You gotta deal with the facts; since you can't protect both of them, ya gotta delegate to someone else and I don't see no one else steppin' up."

After a short pause – thankfully without any more of that New Age crap – she spoke a little more loudly. It wasn't shouting-level, but it was a "sit up and pay attention, mechs and femmes" kind of tone and I knew the next thing she'd say wouldn't be full of B.S. "You always step up for Mikaela, which is one of the reasons why your relationship with her is invaluable to this effort. She would say you're indispensable to her personal security and I can see the wisdom in that."

"I'm indispensable, so why'm I treated like a DIY burglar alarm instead of the surveillance genius that I am?" I challenged her. "I've survived by staying a step ahead of a lot of Decepticons who were bigger and meaner than me, including the likes of Soundwave."

She gave me hold music again, but it was "Enter Sandman," so the femme was at least paying attention to my needs. After half a verse, she came back with an answer.

"I don't know that you're a surveillance genius, but you're right – you are the only option and you do have a good grasp of security. You just sometimes take inappropriate risks as well and that makes me worried for Mikaela's safety."

Okay, that was blunt, but it wasn't wrong. My version of security meant I sometimes wanted to punch a hole through the spine of every slagger who looked at her wrong and it sometimes came out in ways that were not ideal in general, but better than the assault charges I might get tossed my way. RaFly had gotten all of those feelings boiled down to two sentences and it made me feel weirdly better that she had a pretty clear picture of the sitch, so I decided to not yell so much for the rest of this conversation unless provoked.

"So what are we doin' in here instead of talkin' about the plan out there?" I asked a little exasperated.

"You're totally devoted to her and the only other person I know like that is Samuel."

If I had a squishy-type chest, it would have puffed out with pride at that. I gave her a taste of her own medicine and played some Led Zeppelin to give it some more thought.

"Well yes," I affirmed after a few more bars of "The Immigrant Song," "but what's that got to do with the current conversation?"

She sighed, "It means I need to let go of my need for 'perfect information' and trust my team. Ready to invite them into the discussion?"

With her finally seeing the light, I opened the door of her alt and hopped out by way of an answer.

"But that will leave you without protection," Sam was saying as we strolled back to the group chat.

Mikaela's face was flushed, and I was pretty sure it wasn't from the heat. "I'm my own protection!"

I waved my arms and tried out a Voice of God "Hey!" It would have worked if I'd been about three times my normal size.

"But honey," Judy said, ignoring me, "he's just trying to watch out for you."

I stomped my foot and bellowed, "HEY!" in a cheerleader voice this time. They usually got peoples' attention.

"Come on Judy, I thought you of all people would back me up on this!" Mikaela answered.

Fine, if height was the problem, I'd just have to supersize myself. I tweaked my holoform, finding an appropriate template from the internet: a 6'3" bruiser and, to really make him stand out around here, someone with Black skin. Activating my holoform, I lifted my arms and again shouted, "HEY!"

Judy squeaked and, staggering back, tripped over a camp chair.

"Holy slag," Sam muttered, putting his hand over his heart like it was giving out on him.

Mikaela also jumped back a couple of feet in surprise. "What – ?"

"Overkill," RaFly commented in her best rational thinking voice. "I'd like to now invite my colleague to detail the particulars of our plan."

Ron came running out from the RV with an oversized flashlight wielded like a baseball bat. He paused long enough to help Judy to her feet, still glaring daggers at my holoform. "Get away from my family you…wide receiver?" He squinted at me. "Fitzgerald? Shouldn't you be in Glendale?"

I ignored him and took over like this was me and RaFly's personal board meeting. I just did so while giving my voice a nice rumble somewhere between Denzel Washington and Morgan Freeman, but keeping the sass intact. "There's no problem here. RaFly can keep up with the Prime protection detail, and I can make sure Mikaela's got all the backup she'll ever want and then any more backup she actually needs."

"Wha…?" Sam said, looking completely baffled.

"Wheelie?" Mikaela was just as lost.

"Yeah, this is me."

"Wait!" Ron said, brandishing the flashlight again. "You're that little…toy car chihuahua thing that follows Mikaela around like a lost puppy?"

"No, I'm the bad-aft Decepticon spy who was tamed by Mikaela and who is now gonna make sure her six is covered when she's on her own in California. Capeesh?"

Judy straightened her blouse and narrowed her eyes at Mikaela. "So you'll let that little ex-'Con make decisions for you, but you bristle at the slightest suggestion that Sam…"

"I ain't making decisions FOR her," I stamped my foot as I interrupted, "I ain't her knight in shining armor – I'm her squire."

Mikaela beamed at me in sudden understanding.

"If I may," RaFly said from her holoform. "Wheelie is uniquely qualified to provide security for Mikaela. He has proven himself in ways that I cannot divulge at this time, but I can vouch for his qualifications."

"Hiding under Bee's dashboard in Egypt doesn't count as credentials," Sam snarked.

"No," I said. "Unlike you, I had Mikaela's back on Memorial Day."

RaFly adopted a slightly pained expression at my decision to bring that incident up. Whatever. This was need-to-know and the number of people who needed to know had just been tweaked a bit.

Sam looked from RaFly to Mikaela and then back to me. "What happened on Memorial Day? And why didn't I hear about it?"

I put my hands on my hips. "Contrary to popular opinion, I am damn good at keeping my mouth shut."

"Contrary to public example," Sam countered. "What was your opening line to my roommates again?"

I ignored him; he was being ignorant and I was here to school loverboy.

"Until I met Warrior Goddess here, my whole autobiography has been in stealth mode. I'm a lot more easily crunchable compared to the rest of yous and mosta the Decepticons ain't too gentle with things a lot nastier than a blowtorch."

I could have gone into grisly detail, but didn't want to sound too pathetic. Being a tough little drone was my thing and it was seriously underrated.

"Some of the bigger bots –"

"Bumblebee," RaFly clarified without hesitation.

"– even given me a crash course in 'not getting involved,' since I'm the one little ex-'Con who hangs out with the most important squishies on Earth."

"Okay, whatever," self-important Samuel said. "What happened on Memorial Day, though?"

I righted the chair Judy had tripped over and made myself at home in a casual slouch. "So, this human vibing with all the subtlety of Starscream showed up at Mikaela's shop. I was laying low from my usual place on high."

"Rafters?" Samuel dubiously asked. "Spycam?"

"Naw, the overhead lights. I can Evil Knievel myself all over the shop, and even when the lights swing slightly, some of you lower lifeforms are oblivious. So anyway, this creeper asks, 'My man Colin around?' Now that wasn't exactly a red flag, but it was worth checking out given the guy's general creep factor."

"Don't you think that was overreacting?" Judy asked. "I mean, Mikaela's surrounded by all those very muscular mechanics when she's at the shop – lucky girl."

Samuel said, "Ew! Mom!" at the same time Ron protested, "Judy!"

"Whatever. Scott, who has no survival instincts, pointed the creeper right toward Colin. The stranger grunted in answer and headed that way. I went bipedal again and scuttled to the edge so I could keep an eye on the punk to watch.

"Apparently I was the only one who thought that, though. My warrior goddess had spent the last two days trying to track down an electrical problem in a Goldwing (it was a short in the wiring to the headlamp)..."

"Hold on," Mikaela interjected, "you knew that? And you didn't say anything?"

I shrugged. "You hadn't asked, so I didn't offer. The last thing you need is someone mansplaining repair for you. Anyway, that's why she didn't even look up, and Colin was in the middle of rebuilding a transmission. It's like they're in some kind of mystical trance when they get their hands greasy."

Nodding toward the Witwickys' mutt, I added, "The only organic actually looking for warning signs was the dumb lug on four paws, Bones. He was doing his usual hey-you-guys woof from the minute Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Slimy walked in the door, but Colin shut him up with a Milkbone and went back to ignoring the red flags. The big canine dumbo decided he was off-duty and I was left to scope out the sleazeball on my own."

"All casual-like, the stranger sauntered over and said, 'Hey Colin.' Like there was nothing weird about this guy just being there. Started making small talk and catching up. Boring as slag, nothing weird about it. 'Cept there wadn't nuthin' normal about it, either. But I couldn't exactly drop like a tarantula and state the obvious. So I had to just shut up and take notes on the skeezy guy named Marcus Sykes."

"Which," Mikaela interrupted loudly, holding up one finger, "neither you nor Pop saw fit to tell me – I found out from the flipping arrest warrant."

Everyone else looked confused, so Mikaela dropped her hand and explained, "Grifter jerk who should have had a rap sheet twice as long as my dad's, but took his sweet time getting caught."

She had ripped Colin a new one, once she had discovered that little detail. Really, it was the third-best entertainment I had that month.

"Yeah, Sykes," I confirmed, drawing the name out. "Guy just slunk into the place like a greasy shadow and hoped no one would see him for who he really was."

Sam had that pinched look that meant he was on the verge of getting really upset, but didn't have the reason pinned down yet. "Wheelie, I appreciate the visual, but can you stop channeling Humphrey Bogart for a while?"

I ignored him. These were deets that NEEDED some gravitas.

"The schmoozer definitely picked his timing and his audience. Milady over there was otherwise occupied, the hired help were on the job, and Colin doesn't have the keenest sense of danger when it comes from a familiar face. Baines was acting cagey, trying to keep Mikaela from noticing what they were up to. Kept 'fessing up to nothing more exciting than keeping his nose clean."

"Wheelie," Mikaela interrupted. "Seriously, can we get the Cliff's Notes version?"

Everyone else was a Philistine who didn't get the value of fine storytelling, but when Warrior Goddess needed a shift in perspective, I was duty-bound to at least try. I took a minute to rethink the whole thing, then plunged back in, refinement filters off.

"I knew right then and there the scumbag wasn't going to be subtle when he came back. He was going to do whatever he wanted and the only thing holding him back was timing. I could practically see his gunky gears turning. He was pretty stoked that Colin wasn't going to get in his way and that was a pretty big sign that he could crash the place and Baines would be too…" I took out the words chicken, wussy, and wimpy from optional vocab. "...too on the straight and narrow to really get involved." I glanced at my Warrior Goddess. "Your Man-Child was at least trying to play it smart."

"At least there's that," she quietly agreed.

"I shoulda been recording the whole time – I'm supposed to have your dad's back and the moron on four paws is a lazy flea-hunter with seriously low tech – but as soon as I put it all together, I started getting Sykes on camera. Mobile surveillance cam and all that.

"So yeah, Colin cut to the chase and tried to suss out why he was showing his ugly mug. All Sykes would say was that he was tryin' to be friendly. Fat load of crap THAT was. Free food, fun times, the guy was definitely buttering him up or casing the joint. Colin chased him off politely. He didn't tell him to buzz off, but he got the guy to clue in to his priorities. It was a red flag the size of a Jumbotron that Syke-opath went away without a fight."

"This is the Cliff's Notes version?" Ron demanded.

"Compared to the kind of detail Soundwave demanded, you can bet your fleshy behind…"

"Hey!" Ron protested

"...that this is the short version. Soundwave woulda carved the glyph for 'thorough' into my finish if I'd given a report this truncated." There was no pleasing these impatient squishies! Trying to break it all down into something short enough for their carbon-based attention spans, I said, "So Sykes came back, but I...cajoled him into leaving."

Samuel groaned in frustration, and I threw my hands in the air. "What?"

"Cajoled?" Judy sniggered. "By batting your red-and-blue optics at him?"

"Don't be gross. I do have taste and I had an agenda."

"Just tell us what happened over Memorial Day!" Samuel ranted.

"I'm trying ta, but ya won't let me!" I snapped back.

My warrior goddess intervened. "Wheelie. Sam. Knock it off. Let's try it this way. Wheelie, when we got back on the Tuesday after Memorial Day, the place looked like a hurricane had hit it. There was even blood on the floor! What in the Pit does 'cajole' mean in Cybertronian?"

Radio Flyer helpfully jumped in. "It means to verbally persuade someone into a specific course of action, typically by repeated entreaties even to the point of annoyance."

"Thank you, Merriam and Webster, I know what cajole means," Samuel replied. "How do you cajole a criminal without burning a building down as a 'bot?"

"Or going against orders and revealing yourself as an alien," Radio Flyer said, unexpectedly giving me an opening to get back on track.

"Or having charges brought against you in criminal proceedings yourself?" I drawled, still quite proud of my past self-restraint. "If we told ya, we'd have to…" Operational rules and my personal code as a bodyguard didn't let me finish the NEST motto. "...Cajole ya like we did Sykes. Better we leave it kinda vague. Long story short, I made him some other squishy's problem, cleaned up shop…"

"Cleaned up shop?" MIkaela said. "It looked like something out of the Wizard of Oz!"

"Yes, for evidentiary purposes," RaFly said calmly. "Wheelie prudently let the man incriminate himself to a certain degree, but restored some order to the scene."

"Worst housekeeper ever," Samuel commented.

"Damn right," I answered, "but most proactive security cam of all time."

"Also, worst storyteller ever," Samuel added.

"Fine. Think Home Alone meets Oceans 11 meets Mission:Impossible meets The Italian Job. Though giving Sykes his due, he was a more-competent villain than the idiot burglars from Home Alone."

"That isn't comforting or informative," Samuel protested.

"You wanted the frigging Cliff's Notes. I'm giving ya the elevator pitch. Ya want more, ya gotta apologize or pay."

"Wheelie," Mikaela warned.

"FINE," I said. "You don't have to pay, but you sure as slag better admit that I'm the craftiest little drone on your side and you're frigging lucky to have me."

"You're the weirdest ex-Decepticon we have and I'm frigging glad you aren't trying to outsmart me," the human Prime said after a moment of consideration.

I decided it was close enough.

"I've got the director's cut of what happened," I haggled.

"Highlight reel," Samuel said, hands on his hips.

"What really should have gone into the police report," MIkaela proposed.

"Sold," I said. I'd even make it entertaining for her. "I figured he was going to storm the fortress, so I electrified the fence."

From Ron came the incredulous, "You what?"

"This'd go a lot faster if you all would stop interrupting," I growled. "I electrified the fence. When that didn't stop the dumb-aft, he ran into my next line of defense – an unpickable lock on the front door."

"There's nothing special about that lock," Mikaela protested, but I didn't growl at her.

"There isn't now," I corrected. "At the time, there was a bunch of superglue in one of those gelatin caps for hippie herbal concoctions. I didn't want to do that to your actual lock so I'd installed a different one while you were gone. When he stuck his illegal tools into the lock to pick it, they got stuck."

"Hence the need for clean-up," RaFly interjected. "We had to re-install the original lock."

"But he did leave a LOT of fingerprints trying to get them out again," I proudly said. "So simple logic indicated he'd try the window next, and I figured the best way to keep the entire Baines family safe was to get enough dirt on this guy to actually get him locked up this time. I boobytrapped the window with used motor oil to make sure that he'd leave all kinds of prints and take a knock on the noggin in the process."

They were starting to look appropriately impressed by my version of CSI: Cybertron, so I decided to give them even more juicy details. They were starting to earn them.

"Bones was supposed to attack the slagger at that point, but all he managed to bite off of Sykes was his shoe. Not even his foot, just his shoe, and that slacker of a mutt decided he'd done his duty and slouched off to gnaw on it. Left me all alone to single-handedly take on Collin's big bad."

"Anyway… Cliff's Notes. Sykes tried to hack the shop's computer, and that went about as well as you'd think. Next he tried to make off with the cash drawer and then the safe. Got himself a mousetrap on the knuckles for the first and a bruised toe on the second. But the coup de grace was when he tried to make a break for it, opened the garage door since it was the one door that still worked, and tripped my crowning jewel of a boobytrap inspired by no less than Indiana Jones. A couple dozen tires ended up chasing him into the street and running him over."

Even Samuel was grinning at this point, and Judy giggled. Mikaela was looking puzzled, though. "What about the shredded shirt on the repair lift? And the blood? I mean, that blood sample is how they finally nailed him."

"Dumb luck." I paused for effect. "His dumb, my luck. Cro Magnon Marcus went skidding on that motor oil right into that janky repair lift and got himself hung like a coat on the thing."

"Yeah, it has the tendency to have a mechanical brain of its own," Mikaela chuckled.

"Had to tear himself outta there," I concluded smugly. It hadn't been my doing, but it practically had a place in a blooper reel somewhere. I could have taken credit for that – it was my motor oil – but the Darwin Award belonged to the lowlife.

"And so," RaFly recapped, "Wheelie has proven himself quite capable of being Mikaela's bodyguard."

"And might have a bright future on Mythbusters," Samuel said "Anything else you want to add?"

I tilted my helm and thought for a minute. "Sykes' FB messages were something the Tranquility PD would love to get their hands on some day,"

"Well that could come in useful," Mikaela interjected with a smirk.

"Just say the word," I told her.

"I'll say it soon," she promised. "You've got the job and anyone who disagrees needs their fleshy aft kicked, no questions asked."

While I was still the size of a linebacker she hooked her arms over my shoulders and pressed herself against my rock-hard pecs and six-pack abs. As far as these things called 'hugs' went, I didn't see the appeal, but I had enough context from the number of times she and Squishy Prime shoulda gotten a room to know this was meant to be a big deal, gratitude-wise. I hugged her waist and tried not to do any damage.

…

Just as the sun was sinking into the Pacific, RaFly dropped me and Mikaela off at her shop in Tranquility, since that's where her motorcycle was. She waved good-bye to RaFly and then nudged me affectionately with her foot on her way to her bike. "Squire, huh?"

I shrugged. "Well I ain't anybody's noble steed, not even yours."

She barked out a laugh as she swung astride the bike, then offered me a hand up. "I owe you an apology, you know," she said as I climbed aboard and settled into the cargo rack. "I should have thought of you from the get-go. I was so preoccupied with wedding stuff, I guess, that I wasn't really thinking about all this until Sam was panicking. I know I can trust you to have my six. I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "Being overlooked is usually my superpower." That and I was still smarting a little from the talking to over comms from RaFly about respecting the femme commander's privacy and not divulging information without permission. It was even worse that she was right. Whether or not Ron and Judy were 'need to know' was supposed to be Mikaela's prerogative, not mine. I had let my mouth run away with me in an effort to show my Warrior Goddess I was at least as faithful as Sam.

"Well, I'll try not to overlook you again."

I sunk lower on my wheels, wishing she'd just let it go. Thankfully, she did and fired up the engine.

She suddenly twisted in her seat to look at me through her helmet visor. "And Wheelie? If I don't think to ask and you see me struggling with a repair, feel free to say something. It's not man-splaning when it's from my loyal squire."

My spark warmed a bit and I nodded. With a smile, she faced forward again and we rode off into the sunset.