Walking on a Wire

by EnchantedRealmsFiction

G1. au. Ironhide rescues Chromia . . . or is it the other way around?

Recommended Music: Any version of Walking On a Wire that you can find. I prefer the Susanna Hoffs' version.

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It was a day like any other day at the Decepticon undersea headquarters. A skeleton crew of Decepticons was heading for their private quarters or the barracks while the majority were getting out of their recharge chambers and preparing for the day ahead.

In the command center sat Megatron, going over reports and formulating a new strategy to take control over Earth's energy resources. It was something that he did whenever a previous attempt failed, and he often lost himself in such planning. Today was no exception. Megatron was entirely engrossed in what he was doing that he did not notice as two individuals came into the room. That is, until he felt his chair being jolted forward with him in it, threatening to send him sprawling on the floor. Startled, and more than a bit angry, he whirled around, fusion cannon at the ready . . . and came face-to-face with a standard, hand-held concussion blaster.

"You're getting slower and slower each time," a voice drawled. "Swear, I could've killed ya when I walked in."

Megatron glared at the one who had disturbed him then turned his attention to the other who had also walked in.

"Soundwave, I thought I told you to make sure Ironhide never does anything like that ever again!" he growled.

Soundwave merely shrugged at that then proceeded to his workstation. As he did so, Megatron lowered his weapon and Ironhide did the same. Megatron looked at Ironhide, scowling.

"You talked him into standing by again, didn't you?" Megatron accused.

"Maybe," the other Decepticon replied, smirking a little. "Gotta keep you on your feet somehow."

Megatron tried his best to maintain his scowl but Ironhide simply folded his arms and smirked at him. The stare down continued for a few moments longer until both Mechs started to chuckle.

"Get to work," Megatron said, shaking his head. "In fact, take this and analyze it," he handed Ironhide a datapad. "Make yourself useful for a change."

"Har har," came the reply as Ironhide walked to his station. Megatron shook his head once more and returned to his station. The command center was quiet for a while longer until various Decepticons began to enter.

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Most of the Decepticons that entered came to either check the duty roster (done by Soundwave) or to get their mission assignments (from Ironhide). Those who were not looking at the duty roster or receiving their assignments from Ironhide took up places at the remaining consoles and began their work.

In the midst of all of this activity, Starscream walked in with Dirge, Thrust, and Ramjet behind him. Everyone knew he was there when his shrill and annoying voice rose above the din of the command center.

"Well, what do we have here? Another preparation of failure for our glorious leader?" the Decepticon second sneered.

The remark earned Starscream a seething glare from Ironhide, who snarled, "Shut yer trap, Starscream, or I'll shut it for you. I don't see you contributing to any of the planning."

The room grew quiet, deafeningly quiet, and both Megatron and Soundwave turned their chairs around, ready to intervene at a moment's notice. Everyone there knew that there wasn't much love lost between the two subcommanders. It was common knowledge that Starscream believed that the only reason why Ironhide had even received a position of command was because he and Megatron were twins, much like the Autobots Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Most Decepticons also knew that Ironhide blamed Starscream for the capture and eventual death of his mate, Cerulion. They got along well enough if they had to but that was as far as it went.

As the entire room continued to watch, Ironhide and Starscream stared off, Ironhide now being the one who was smirking and Starscream the one who was scowling. The tide had suddenly turned with his remark in Ironhide's favour.

"Why you . . ." Starscream sputtered. "I do my part around here. I contribute!"

"And you have your fair share of failures, like everyone else here," Ironhide responded coldly. "You're not better than anyone else here so keep yer trap shut or I will shut it for you."

Ironhide's last remark earned him a frosty, defiant glare from the Seeker but that was all. Starscream knew better than to push Ironhide when his tone grew cold. The Seeker seethed even more when Ironhide tossed him a datapad.

"Here's your mission. Follow it through or I'll personally have your head."

Most of the Decepticons had dispersed by this point and those in the command center had gone back to work, save Megatron. As he longer had an audience, Starscream stalked out of the command center, still seething. Dirge, Thrust, and Ramjet quickly got their assignments and exited, nearly running over Skywarp and Thundercracker in the process. Megatron, satisfied that his two seconds hadn't killed each other, turned his attention back to the reports and his plans.

Ironhide had just sat back down, ready to analyze the information Megatron had given him, when Skywarp and Thundercracker approached him.

"Get into it with Starscream again?" Skywarp asked.

Ironhide spared him a small glance, giving him a look that said, "What do you think?" Skywarp merely nodded and neither Seeker said anything as Ironhide continued his work.

Out of all of the Decepticons, Ironhide was among the rare few with a ground transformation and the only one with blue optics. It suited him just fine to be different from the rest. He did his job and he did it exceptionally well. To Ironhide, that was what had earned him his rank and that was all that mattered.

After a few moments, he had the data analyzed and was tossing it to Soundwave. Ironhide looked at the two Seekers standing next to him. They had stood there quietly, almost expectantly. Slightly amused, Ironhide handed them each a datapad.

"Anxious to go out and die?" he smirked.

"Not hardly," Thundercracker snorted. "Why? You leading?"

"Yep. We'll be leaving ten breems after the briefing."

"Gonna give us more of a preview or do we have to wait?" Skywarp asked, looking over his datapad.

"Nope," Ironhide answered. "Don't know how much more myself, other than the briefing is in twelve breems."

"Why so long?"

"You really need to ask, Skywarp?" Thundercracker stated. The three Decepticons looked over at their leader, who was busy at his terminal.

"It'll take at least half that time to get him way from the terminal," Ironhide observed, turning back to his terminal and chuckling some.

"I heard that!"

Ironhide chuckled even more at that, causing Skywarp and Thundercracker to shake their heads.

"We'll see you at the briefing, Ironhide," Thundercracker said, waving slightly. Ironhide absently waved back, getting absorbed in his work. He had a lot to do and never enough time to get everything done in.

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Three Earth hours later, two units with approximately four individuals each left the undersea base and made their way towards the Californian windmills. They were prepared to harness what little energy they offered. All of it was small, however, in comparison to the assault Megatron was leading in another hour.

"What's our estimated arrival time, Soundwave?"

"Ten Earth minutes."

"And how long before the Autobots arrive to engage us?"

"Thirty Earth minutes after our arrival," Soundwave stated.

Starscream flew closer to Ironhide, his expression somber and serious for a change.

"You do realize that this is a suicide mission, right?" he inquired.

"I do," Ironhide confirmed. "That's why there's a back up plan."

"But will it work? We've never gone on a mission like this before. We're going up against the majority of the Autobot army."

"Tell me something that I wasn't aware of, Starscream," Ironhide sighed. "Everything will be fine. Even if they have Blaster with them, we'll still be fine."

Starscream started to say something more but decided against it. Ironhide had a look of determination on his face and everyone knew better than to try and persuade him out of whatever he had his mind set on. It went unspoken but it reassured Starscream, though he also wasn't about to let it show. He still had his pride. They continued to fly in silence until the shoreline came into view.

"Soundwave, eject Rumble and Frenzy," Ironhide ordered. "When we land, release Laserbeak and Buzzsaw. We know they'll be coming, we'll want to see them before they can get to us."

"As you command."

The sound of Rumble and Frenzy being ejected from Soundwave's chest compartment filled their audios for a brief moment then was gone. The two young Decepticons transformed and immediately flew to the front.

"Who's going with who?"

"Rumble, you're with Starscream. You're both to run as much interference as possible should we have to engage the Autobots."

"Okay!" the two chorused rather cheerfully.

"Reaching separation point," Soundwave announced.

"Good luck, Decepticons. Break formation in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one."

The two units, which had flown as one, broke their formation, one heading south and the other heading north.

Here's hoping this works, Starscream thought as he and his unit headed south. I hate to think of the repercussions if it doesn't.

The unit reached the targeted windmills and quickly began to work.

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"How much time do we have, Soundwave?"

"Not much," the communications officer replied. "The Autobots will be here in less than five minutes."

Ironhide growled at that, extremely frustrated. He knew he had exceeded Megatron's expectations for the raid; he had not reached his own expectations. However, Ironhide knew better than to push his luck. Getting the energon out was far more important than reaching some personal goal.

"Get the energon loaded. We need to get it out of here before they engage us in a fight," he ordered, quickly gathering cubes.

"What happens when they start firing on us and we're not airborne?" Frenzy inquired.

"You and me, we're gonna run interference until it's safe for us to leave as well. You up for it?"

"Yes," Frenzy answered confidently and without hesitation. If anything, Ironhide knew he could count on the smaller Decepticon to do his part. Without any more words spoken, Ironhide, Soundwave and Frenzy quickly loaded the energon cubes into Skywarp's and Thundercracker's cargo holds.

They had just loaded the last two cubes when a volley of laser blasts rained down upon them, promises of pain and possible death. Ironhide, Frenzy, and Soundwave turned and returned fire.

"GO!" Ironhide yelled to the jets. "Get out of here NOW!"

Firing up their engines, Thundercracker and Skywarp began to taxi down a clear stretch of land, but it wasn't easy. Autobot firepower, insignificant as it was, hindered their take off. Ironhide saw this and knew what he had to do.

"You ready for this?"

"Affirmative."

"Ready!"

"Let's do it."

Quickly, they re-armed themselves and began to fire, running away from the two Seekers in an effort to draw fire away from them. Ironhide wasn't sure it had worked until he heard them taking off.

"There's our cue. Let's get out of here!"

Still firing, the three Decepticons took to the air, intent on covering their colleagues' retreat. Autobot fire followed them, narrowly missing them.

"Leave them a present, Frenzy."

"With pleasure!"

"Look out!" Soundwave warned at the same time.

Ironhide felt a blast hit him in the back as he heard Frenzy fire a missile. He tried to regain control and remain in the air but it was to no avail. The blast had damaged his thrusters and he was on a downward spiral to the ground. The ground came up quickly to meet him and he remembered no more.

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Ironhide slowly opened his optics and stifled a groan. He had no idea as to where he was or why or if he was even in friendly territory. All he knew was that he had a pounding headache and the light above him was extremely bright. Blindingly bright. Quickly, Ironhide minimized the gain on his optics and pushed himself up. In an instant, he knew that he was an Autobot prisoner.

From the corner of his optic, Ironhide saw the electronic bars that imprisoned him and the two guards outside that were meant to keep him in. He almost snorted at that. Two guards to keep him in? What were they thinking? He could get by them easily but he didn't want to draw attention to himself just yet. Ironhide wanted to make his escape worthwhile.

"You're awake," a voice exclaimed quietly and obviously surprised. Ironhide turned to see who had spoken then nearly scowled. When he hadn't been paying attention, Optimus Prime had walked up and was now watching him. Pity and concern were written in his optics. Ironhide saw it and scoffed silently at it. He had no need of Prime's pity or concern.

"What do you want?" Ironhide growled.

"Some answers," the Autobot leader replied softly.

"Answers?" Ironhide sat up fully and raised an optic at him. "Answers to what?"

"Not here," he stated. "Jazz, Mirage . . .."

At the unspoken command, the two Autobots who had been standing guard took up flank next to Optimus Prime, Jazz deactivating the bars in the process. Narrowing his optics, Ironhide stood up cautiously, taking notice that Jazz and Mirage were keeping their weapons trained on him.

Smart kids, he thought. But it won't stop me if I decide to get out of here.

"We'll go someplace a little quieter," Prime continued. "If you'll just follow me . . ."

"Not like I have a choice, do I?" Ironhide scowled.

"There's always a choice, Ironhide."

"Yeah, right," Ironhide snorted, almost laughing. "Tell me another good one, Prime. It's not much of a choice if I have two weapons pointed at me but yet you tell me I do. That makes a lot of sense."

Optimus Prime gave him a very pointed look but Ironhide didn't care. He stood his ground for he did have a point as well.

"Follow me," he repeated, stiffly this time. Jazz and Mirage still kept their blasters pointed at him, as if to ensure his compliance. Scowling, Ironhide followed. Optimus Prime was in the lead with Jazz and Mirage flanking him. They definitely were not taking any chances where Ironhide was concerned.

Optimus Prime wove in and out of corridors, as if trying to confuse and disorient the red Decepticon in their midst. Ironhide, however, was better than that. As they walked, he made a mental note of each hallway and what separated one from the other, often resorting to using nicknames. He hadn't been trained as a spy and security agent for nothing, after all. And the information would be useful to Megatron as well.

Within moments, they had arrived to what appeared to be an office. Suspicious of what was going on, Ironhide kept his guard up as he followed Optimus Prime in. It was after the door slid shut with a quiet hiss that he noticed it was just him and the Autobot leader. Even more suspicious than before, Ironhide narrowed his optics.

"Have a seat, Ironhide."

"No." Ironhide folded his arms in defiance.

"And why not?" the taller Mech asked.

"Because I'm not one of your Autobot lackeys," Ironhide retorted. "I am not yours to command."

If he was taken aback by those remarks, Optimus Prime didn't let it show. Ironhide didn't think it surprised him, though. He was a Decepticon.

"No one here is a lackey, Ironhide," he reprimanded gently. "If that is what you think of them then it shows how very little you know about us."

"I know plenty," Ironhide responded coldly.

Optimus Prime regarded him for a few moments, studying him.

"Why are you a Decepticon, Ironhide? What's in it for you?"

Ironhide paused for a moment.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes," he nodded.

"I was created as a Decepticon," he said, grinning slightly. "And I'll get the satisfaction of seeing your head mounted on a plaque in Darkmount. That answer your question?"

"You don't mean that . . ."

"Oh, yes I do," Ironhide stated.

"I don't believe you. There's too much about you that is Autobot . . . Are you sure you weren't bombed with a cerebral shell?"

"Is that what you think?" Ironhide's optics darkened.

"It's the only explanation we've been able to come up with," came the answer. "Other than you've been brainwashed but then they are one in the same, aren't they?"

"Then it is you who knows nothing, Optimus Prime."

"Jazz, Mirage . . ."

"Yes, Optimus?"

"Escort Ironhide to Repair Bay," he ordered. "I want Ratchet to give him a full examination."

"Oh no you don't," Ironhide growled, ready to lunge at the Autobot commander. Optimus braced himself but, when the door slid open, instead of lunging for Prime, he attacked Jazz and Mirage. In an instant, he was out the door and running.

Ironhide didn't get very far, however. He ran into the Dinobots and two Femmes. As the blasts hit him, he thought he recognized one of them and her name died unsaid as blackness claimed him.

Cerulion.

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"Optimus, are you all right?" Elita-1 asked, concerned oozing into her voice. The Decepticon prisoner was unconscious but she had heard the sounds of fighting before he had come barreling out. Grimlock and the rest of the Dinobots kept their weapons on him, ready to shoot him should he move. They were now waiting for the medical teams to arrive.

"Yes, Elita. I'm fine. He went after Jazz and Mirage instead. Are you all right?" Prime asked.

Elita nodded, smiling. She turned to look at her friend, who was now watching the unconscious Decepticon. Chromia appeared to be lost in thought.

"Chromia?"

"Hmm?" The blue Femme turned her head to gaze at them.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Chromia shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

"Good," Elita stated before focusing her attention back to Optimus.

"What's the story with this one?" she whispered.

"Believes he's a Decepticon. I'm having Ratchet check him over for any signs of cerebral shells or any other form of brainwashing," he whispered back.

"And if there are none?"

"I don't know," he murmured. "May have to convince him to denounce their cause. It's not right that he's one of them . . . Here comes Ratchet and First Aid . . . ."

The two commander watched as Ironhide was placed on a gurney and restrained, followed by Jazz and Mirage.

"I'm going to go with them, Elita. I want to make sure Jazz and Mirage will be all right."

"Okay. Chromia and I will catch up with you."

Prime nodded then quickly followed the medical team.

"Chromia . . . ."

"Yes, Elita?"

"Ironhide may need convincing that he belongs among us and I have an idea as to how we can help," Elita smiled.

"Oh? How?" the blue Femme raised an optic at her.

"Come on," she grinned. "In here and I'll tell you."

With that, the two Femmes stepped into Prime's office and Elita began to detail her plan.

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When Ironhide came to again, he quickly minimized the gain to his optics in order to look around. He quickly became annoyed when he saw that he was in Autobots' Repair Bay and even more so when he discovered that he was restrained. Hushed voices in the same room caught his attention and Ironhide lifted his head to listen.

"I don't get it, either, Prime. We re-checked everything twice to make sure our equipment was calibrated right but the results came out the same. Even though his design is that of an Autobot . . ." Ratchet was explaining.

"His origin is Decepticon," Prime finished, obviously not happy with what the medic was telling him.

Told you that I was, you fool, Ironhide smirked to himself. Now. . . . to find Cerulion and get out of here.

The restraints, however, were not about to budge and he knew it. Ironhide had to wait for some schmuck to release him from his bonds and he would be free.

"Prime, he's awake . . . ."

The Autobot leader looked at him for one moment only.

"Take him to the brig. Four guards. I'm taking no more chances."

Ratchet nodded and advanced in a non-threatening manner upon him, as did the five Dinobots.

So much for that idea, he thought as the restraints disappeared. Ironhide knew better than to even go up against one Dinobot by himself, let alone all five.

As he got up, Ironhide shot Optimus Prime a most murderous glare then slid off the bed. Walking out, he saw the two Femmes once more and almost stopped.

The one Femme, though she was taller than most females and extremely attractive, held no interest for him. She was pink, an instant disqualifying factor for him. Her friend, however, was his main interest and he tried not to give himself away as he walked by.

She, too, was on the tall side with a crown-like helmet upon her head. There was pride in her demeanor, pride that no Autobot held, and, though she probably didn't realize it, she looked like she had just been insulted. Though she was a shade of blue paler, Ironhide was not about to deny that it was Cerulion. Everything about her was familiar, including her stride.

It's Cerulion all right, he confirmed to himself as he walked to his cell. But how? How did they do this? And why? Do they think they can get away with destroying something so beautiful?

They were questions that he didn't have any answers to. Yet.

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"Elita, I'm not so sure about this . . ."

The Femme commander sighed to herself. Chromia had protested about her plan every time that no one else was around. It wasn't a whiny protest, like some others under her command, but it was starting to get a little aggravating.

"Chromia, we'll be fine. Trust me. Please."

"I do trust you, Elita. I just don't like this plan," Chromia pointed out.

"I know, Chromia. I really don't like doing this, either," Elita began.

"So why do it?" Chromia interrupted.

"It's the only way," she stated firmly. "Now come on."

She heard Chromia sigh but there was a reluctance to it. Chromia wasn't going to be totally comfortable with this.

"Don't worry, Chromia," she soothed. "He'll be on our side then it'll all be okay."

Chromia didn't reply back, an indication of her displeasure, but Elita was done talking about it. They were on their way to the detention center, or they had been. Elita noticed the change and knew that they had reached their destination.

"Remember, this is going to take some time. No immediate results. He's a stubborn one," Elita said.

"How can I forget?" Chromia stated dryly. "You've only told me that a hundred times."

"Chromia . . ."

"We're almost there, Elita. Let's just get this over with."

Without another word, Chromia walked by her and Elita thought she caught a bit of shame in her optics. It was gone when Chromia walked by, however.

Must have been my imagination, Elita mused as she hurried to catch up. This is far too important to allow personal feelings to get in the way.

Sure of their success, Elita continued on.

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Bored. That's what he was. Bored. All Ironhide was able to do was sit and stare at the wall opposite of him. He had long since figured out how to find Cerulion and escape. In fact, he'd thought of several different plans to achieve his goals but it was a waiting game. Timing was essential, waiting for some schmuck to get angry enough to turn the bars off. And that's what he was doing, sitting there alone with his thoughts, and waiting.

Ironhide was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he had not noticed that two Femmes had approached until he caught snatches of conversation.

"Are you sure, Elita?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Silverbolt," came the reply. "Chromia and I will be fine."

"If you insist . . ."

"Hey, Chromia, how about you and me getting together later tonight?"

"Only in your dreams, Slingshot," Chromia retorted.

Definitely something Cerulion would say, Ironhide thought, turning his attention to the front of the cell. That's my girl.

The two Aerialbots that had been his guards were leaving, one sulking at the rejection. From his perspective, the two Femmes were watching the jets leave.

Like they want to make sure it's safe or something.

Sure enough, it was what they were doing for Elita deactivated the bars, allowing them to step inside. Amused, Ironhide stood up.

"Breaking me out, ladies?" he mocked. "I'm touched."

"No, we're not breaking you out," Elita replied. "We came to talk."

"So I've noticed. You Autobots are good at running your mouths."

"Be nice now," Elita chided. "Chromia and I thought it would be nice for you to spend some time with some Femmes. Must be terribly lonely, being a Decepticon."

Ironhide caught the subtle tones in her voice, tones that he had long since learned how to pick up, and he nearly laughed at her implications. He was, however, an opportunist as well and knew a chance when he saw one.

"I might be willing to talk," he purred.

"That's good," Elita smiled.

"But . . . not to you," he stated. "I wasn't born yesterday, Elita-1."

"What do you mean?" she gawked at him, surprised.

"I mean that I will not touch you or speak to you," he murmured dangerously. "I know for a fact that you're Optimus Prime's beloved."

When the only response he got was a glare, Ironhide continued.

"Sure, I could give in to those desires with you and watch Prime's expression when I throw it in his face," he smiled when she blanched at that, "but I'm no fool. I'll talk to Chromia. No one else."

Ironhide watched as Chromia's optics widened in fear for a moment until she masked it. Elita nodded.

"Very well then." To Chromia, she added, "If you need me, I'll be down the hall."

Elita left, activating the bars as she did so. He gazed at Chromia as she watched Elita leave and noticed the defeat and tension in her posture. Carefully, Ironhide approached her.

"Don't worry, Chromia," he murmured, placing his hands on her shoulders. Gently, he began to massage her shoulders.

"Who says I'm worried?" she shot back. Had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have ever noticed the slight tremor that had coursed throughout her body at his touch.

"I can see it in you," he replied somberly. "You can't hide it from me, Chromia. Or should I say, Cerulion?"

"What . . . did you just call me?" She turned to face him, disbelief, anger, shock, and fear glimmering in her optics.

"Cerulion, for that was your name a long time ago," he stated.

"No," she shook her head, "it wasn't. My name has always been Chromia."

"Really? Then how come you recognized it the second time I said it?"

"It's not my name," she repeated. "You have no proof."

"Think so, huh? How about a little sparring match then? Or are you scared?" Ironhide taunted.

Anger crossed her face and she reached out to slap him as hard as she could. Ironhide blocked her by grabbing a hold of her wrist and whirled her around, pinning her arms to her side. Immediately, she stomped on his foot as hard as she could and rammed her elbow into his chassis at the same time. A bit winded but not surprised, he involuntarily let go of her and felt himself hitting the floor. The sound of footsteps running to his cell greeted his audios and he started to laugh.

"Chromia? Are you all right? What happened?"

"I'm fine. Now let me out of here."

Chromia walked to the bars where Elita stood and some kind of an exchange took place between them. Given Chromia's posture and body language and the look on Elita's face, it was an argument. They were speaking in hushed tones so Ironhide barely made out was being said. Whatever it was, Chromia wasn't happy about it, but Elita was refusing to listen. Chromia's shoulders slumped a little when Elita walked off. Ironhide sat up and watched her for a few moments.

"Cerulion?" he ventured.

"Don't call me that," she snapped, still not looking at him.

"As you wish, Chromia," he murmured. "Elita said that you wanted to talk to me. What about?"

She slowly turned around to face him. Ironhide motioned for her to come to him. Absently and without hesitation, she complied with his wish. She even sat next to him, a torrent of expressions on her face.

"Tell me what this is all about," he demanded quietly.

"They want you to join the Autobots. You belong with us . . ." she trailed off.

Ironhide nearly laughed at that, or would have if he hadn't realized why she was in there in the first place. Joining the Autobots was the one thing that he would never do. He remembered his plans of escape and thought of another way to act upon it.

"Chromia . . ."

"Hmmm?"

Gently, he lifted her head up with a hand under her chin. He held her so she couldn't get away nor turn her head. He wanted to make sure she was listening.

"When they come to let you out, let us leave together."

"What?" she blinked, snapping out of it a little.

"Let us leave together," he repeated. "You're obviously not comfortable nor appreciated here. Come with me back to the Decepticons."

"What makes you think that I'm not comfortable or appreciated here?"

"I told you I can see it in you. There isn't anything you can hide from me."

"You have no . . ." she began.

"Yes. I do," he said, cutting her off. "How do you explain you knowing to stomp on a foot when an enemy overpowers you? I've been in combat with quite a few female Autobots and you're the only one who has ever done that."

"You're lying . . ."

"Am I? Have you ever watched your colleagues in combat?"

"I . . ." She was at a loss.

"Think about it, Chromia. Think long and hard. And, while you're thinking about that, think about this, too."

He kissed her right then, making it no more than his lips brushing gently against hers. Memories surged through him, along with a burning hot desire. But he held himself in check. He just wanted her to remember. The rest would take care of itself later.

Ironhide broke off his kiss as quickly as he started it. As he still had a hold of her and her gaze was still on him, Ironhide felt that same tremor course through her and he saw the surprise in her optics. Carefully, he let go of her, surprising her even more.

"Only when you're ready," he murmured. "Think about it. And scowl. I'm refusing your offer to join."

"I never made . . ."

"You were supposed to," he winked. "And I've just refused."

Puzzled, Chromia scrambled to her feet and headed for the bars. Ironhide smiled to himself, leaned back and closed his optics, savouring the taste of her kiss. He had no doubt in his mind that it was Cerulion. All he had to do now was remind her of who she once was.

"Elita, I'm ready."

"I'll be right there, Chromia."

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Chromia stood at the bars and waited. While she waited, she tried to convince herself that Ironhide was merely playing a game with her mind, that all he wanted to do was confuse her and throw her off course so he could escape.

Like what we're trying to do to him, she thought. He said he knew as much . . . He could have done anything he wanted to me . . . Would I have been able to stop him? Would I have wanted to stop him?

Somehow, Chromia didn't think so. She wasn't about to admit it but there was something very familiar about him. And when he kissed her . . . .

"Chromia? Are you all right?"

Elita's voice ripped through her reverie, bringing her back to reality. She was waiting to deactivate the bars to release her.

"Yeah. Fine."

"You sure?" she asked, shutting the bars down long enough to allow Chromia out.

"I'm fine, Elita."

"Okay. If you say so. Hound and Brawn will be here shortly to take over."

Chromia nodded then leaned against the wall. She knew Elita would want details on what happened and he had told her that he was refusing the offer. But should she tell her what Ironhide had called her? That he had been able to read her like a human read a book? A part of her wanted to but another part didn't, and it was stronger than the other. She found herself halfway anticipating seeing him again.

Like a secret love affair, she mused. Almost kind of exciting.

When she realized what she was thinking, Chromia immediately shook those thoughts out of her head.

Stop it. He's the enemy, she told herself. There's no reason to be wanting to see him or believe anything he's said. Tell Elita.

"Okay, ladies. We're here. Prime wants to see you, Elita," Hound announced as he and Brawn approached.

"Thank you. Let's go, Chromia."

Quickly, like she'd just been shot out of Megatron's fusion cannon, Elita was scurrying down the hallway, dragging Chromia with her.

"Well?" Elita prompted when they were alone.

"Well what?"

"What happened? Tell me everything! How did he end up on the floor like that? Did he attack you?"

Chromia hesitated. Here it was, a moment of truth. What she would tell Elita.

"He . . ." Chromia looked at Elita's expectant face.

A partial truth, she told herself. Elita doesn't need to know everything.

"He's refusing to join us," Chromia replied. "It angered me and he used that to goad me into a fight. He found out that he should never, ever do that again."

Relief washed itself over Elita's face as she said, "That's good. You don't have to see him again. I'll find someone else to talk with him."

"And if he refuses to talk to anyone else?"

"I don't know, Chromia. He stays a prisoner, I guess."

"Oh . . . Thank you, Elita. May I go now?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," Chromia murmured again before hurrying off. A war of emotions had begun to rage inside her like a wildfire slowly burning out of control. She had to get away as quickly as possible for Ironhide had raised some doubts inside of her and she now faced a very burning question with no immediate answer.

Who was she?

888888888

"What's the matter?"

He watched the exchange between Femme and Mech silently, the human song he had heard some time ago playing softly in his mind. Somehow, it fit the scene that was playing itself out before him rather appropriately.

"What makes you ask that, Chromia?" the Mech asked, almost wearily. "There's nothing wrong."

'Lying bastard,' he thought as he saw the hurt expression on Chromia's face. 'You don't even love her. You're incapable of loving her. And you say that we're bad.'

"Ultra Magnus, please don't lie to me like that," she murmured. "Something is wrong. I can tell . . . I'm doing something wrong, aren't I?"

'No! You're not! It's him!' he wanted to cry out. 'He doesn't love you. He never has. He's just using you.'

"Chromia, you know that I love you," Ultra Magnus began.

'Liar.'

"But it's not enough, is it?" she whispered.

"It is," he insisted. "It's just . . I'm busy. I can't give you the attention that you deserve."

'Busy? Yeah, right,' he scoffed. 'I've held a command position for a very long time, Magnus, and I always made sure I had time for you. She's too good for you and you know it. You don't WANT to make the time for her. Bastard.'

"I'm sorry," Ultra Magnus was saying, "but I need to let you go."

"I understand," she murmured, turning away.

"Chromia, we can still be friends, can't we?"

"Sure. Whatever you want, Magnus. I'll see you around."

With that, she turned away from Ultra Magnus . . . and headed straight for him.

'Come to me, Chromia. I'm the only one who can love you like you need to be loved.'

She smiled as she walked towards him.

'I know . . .'

888888888

Chromia bolted forward and looked around. She half-expected to see Ironhide standing in her room, watching over her and ready to make off with her somewhere. Instead, she saw that she was alone. Slightly relieved, she sighed and fell back on her recharge bed. As she lied there, Chromia tried to regain her bearings and control her emotions, a task that was fast becoming more and more difficult.

It had been three days since the Decepticon Ironhide had been brought in as a prisoner and he refused to talk to anyone but her. After much arguing with Optimus and Elita, it had become her duty to try and persuade him that he belonged among the Autobots and it didn't matter how she did it, so long as it got done. That was their game plan. Instead, Ironhide was the one convincing her to escape with him and that she belonged with him among the Decepticons. He was winning her over slowly but surely and she knew it.

"What's happening to me?" she whispered aloud.

She could think of only one person who could answer that question. With great reluctance, she got herself up and left her quarters. She had to put an end to this once and for all.

Chromia made her way to the detention center, not even seeing a soul as she went. It was a rather ominous journey. The entire base was silent and feeling rather somber and oppressive to her, adding to the ominous effect. It was like Death was on his way to the Ark to claim someone and everyone wanted to avoid him.

Scary, she thought as she reached Ironhide's cell.

The guards this time were Jazz and Sideswipe, though neither of them looked very happy to be there. Chromia didn't blame them. There were a thousand things she'd rather be doing than visiting or guarding a Decepticon.

Yet, here I am . . .

"Chromia? What are you doing here?" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"Yeah," Jazz echoed. "Thought Prime was giving up on him."

"I'm not," Chromia stated with a conviction that she didn't feel. "It's only been a few days. He's liable to crack sooner or later."

"Do you want us to stay right here? In case he tries to do something funny?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'll be fine. Have been so far."

"I don't know . . ."

"Jazz, I'll be fine," she declared. "He already knows not to mess with me."

"All right," Jazz reluctantly agreed. "But if he gives you any kind of trouble, just give a yell and we'll be here in a flash. Okay?"

"Okay."

Silently, the two trudged off, their footsteps reverberating off of the walls. Soon, they were gone but Chromia waited a while longer before peering into Ironhide's cell.

He stood at the far end of the cell, his arms folded across his chest and an amused glint in his optics. Ironhide said nothing, though it was obvious to Chromia that he was waiting for her to deactivate the bars.

"You have no power over me," she declared.

"I know," he grinned. "No one ever truly did, which gives you your appeal. Too bad that you're an Autobot now. They control you like a mindless, mechanical maid."

"They do not," she hissed. "I'm respected!"

"I'm sure you are," he agreed, "but not in the way that you think. To them, you're nothing but a pleasurebot. Something for them to play with, jeer at, then toss aside when they're done."

"No . . . they don't . . . ."

"Yes, they do," he confirmed, finally walking towards her. "How many relationships have you had, Chromia?"

"None of your business," she responded coldly.

Ironhide smirked at her, like he already knew the answer. Or was it more like he expected her to say that? Chromia wasn't sure with him anymore and it scared her. She regarded him warily.

"It's not too late to come back to the Decepticons," he urged quietly. "Just say the word and we can be out of here before they know it."

"How do I know what you're saying about me is true?" she whispered. "How do I know you're not trying to trick me?"

"You don't," he said gently. "You'd have to trust me. The only one I know of who could truly prove it to you is Soundwave. All I have for my proof are my memories."

"Which Soundwave could implant in me, thereby making all of your statements true to me," Chromia stated. "Nice try."

Ironhide said nothing in reply to that and Chromia believed she had scored a small victory over him . . . until she looked in his optics. Disbelief at what she saw washed over her and Chromia started to reach out to him.

Hurt shimmered in his optics, hurt, disbelief, and shock then a slow realization. Ironhide nodded slightly then turned away. His shoulders had slumped a little as he made his way back to his corner.

"Ironhide . . ."

"Go away. I don't want to speak to anyone anymore," he stated quietly. "Least of all you."

"Ironhide . . . ."

He looked at her, his optics cold and unfeeling. It sent chills coursing through her.

"I said go away. No more talking. I should have known that you were NOT the Femme I once knew. You're now like every other Autobot whore who's ever thrown herself at me in hopes of gaining something. Now go away."

As Ironhide sat down, Chromia was reeling from his words. They stung rather deeply and the realization of them sank in. He had effectively insulted her and slapped her in the face without even raising a hand. Worse, he had insulted her integrity and now he was dismissing her like she was some junior officer. Anger flared inside of her and Chromia clenched her fists.

"You bastard," she growled. "You were messing with my mind this entire time, weren't you? Trying to confuse me with a bunch of lies."

"And what would I have to gain by doing that?" he responded dully. "A few moments of pleasure? Please. I could get that from any Femme. Now go away."

Chromia, however, was seething with anger. She was not about to leave him alone, not until she beat some sense into him. Without even thinking, she deactivated the bars and stalked into the cell. What happened next would almost haunt her for the rest of her life.

Ironhide, obviously surprised that she was even in there, stood up and watched her warily. Chromia half-expected him to run, to try to escape. In fact, she wanted him to try. She wanted to kill him for reasons she couldn't even identify.

"What's the matter, Ironhide?" she jeered. "Not even going to plead for mercy?"

"And why should I?" he retorted. "I'm not a sniveling little coward. I'm not Starscream."

Chromia narrowed her optics at him, anger still seething through her frame. Ironhide stood his ground, though, a dull look in his optics. No longer able to stand it, Chromia lunged at him, her hands reaching for his throat. In a matter of seconds, she had him against the wall, ready to kill.

"Just do it," he whispered, throwing her off guard. "Just kill me. It's what Cerulion would do."

Cerulion. He had said it one final time, nearly sending her over the brink . . . and breaking down a wall that had taken someone millennia to build. Memories flooded through her, causing her to falter.

As the memories overtook her, Chromia closed her optics and realized that she had been the one to build that wall and Ironhide had been right. She had been Cerulion at one point until, on a mission on Cybertron, she'd been damaged and caught by Autobots. She'd been dying when they got back to their base and they had repaired her. They had told her that she'd been attacked and abandoned by her comrades, that they didn't care for her like the Autobots could, and they gave her a new name, a new identity. Hurt and betrayal replaced her anger and she became painfully aware of what she was doing. The part of her that had been an Autobot said that to kill him was wrong, that she had no right, while the Decepticon part insisted it was nothing new for them. As the Autobot part was still stronger than the Decepticon, Chromia rapidly let go of Ironhide and took a step back.

"Ironhide, I'm . . ."

"You're what? Sorry?" he asked. "Don't be."

"I tried to kill you."

"I know," he grinned. "You've always tried to kill me. It was one of the things that attracted me to you. You don't need to apologize for that."

Chromia snorted and shook her head. How typical.

"Why didn't you come looking for me? Didn't I mean anything to you?" she asked, finally indicating that she was remembering.

"I did. We all did," he replied softly. "But no one knew what had happened. Finally, Starscream came in one day and declared that you were dead. You'd been captured and that the Autobots killed you."

"Oh . . ."

She fell silent for a few moments before looking around.

"We need to get out of here . . ."

"And I have just the plan," he winked.

"Oh? Do tell."

"Go back outside and reactivate the bars," he whispered. "Pull out your weapon and call for those two Autobots. Just claim that I now wish to speak to Optimus Prime."

"Like you're going to defect?"

"Right," he nodded. "From there, I'll take you hostage and we escape."

"Let me guess . . . you've become a strategist, right?"

"Something like that. Now hurry."

Chromia exited the cell and did as he had instructed. The plan was extremely risky and full of holes but she trusted him to know what he was doing. She merely hoped that it would be as easy as it sounded.

888888888

Megatron looked at the datapad for the fifth time and growled in frustration. On the datapad was vital information for the next mission and next raid. However, it needed to be analyzed but he and Soundwave were already bogged down with reports and even more information that needed to be analyzed. And his plans of retrieving Ironhide back had failed somewhat miserably. Prime wasn't willing to let him go and Megatron had no bargaining piece. Megatron cursed the rotten luck that had caused Ironhide's capture.

As if on cue, the communications console came to life.

"Ironhide to base, come in. Requesting permission to enter. I repeat, requesting permission to enter."

Immediately, Megatron was at the console.

"This is base. What in the pits took you so long!"

"Had something that need to be taken care of," came Ironhide's reply. "Have I got a story to tell you!"

"I'm sure you do," Megatron stated. "Tell me when you get in here. Permission granted."

The channel went dead as Megatron keyed in the code for the tower. Within a matter of seconds, Ironhide sauntered into the command center, a blue Femme in tow. Megatron instantly knew who she was and noticed that she no longer wore the Autobot sigil. Puzzled, he looked at both of them.

"He's forgotten me and who I really am," she stated, feigning injury. Her attitude was all too familiar. It was like Ironhide's, only worse. Megatron's optics went wide as realization hit him.

"Cerulion?"

"None other," she smirked.

"But how . . .?" Megatron began.

"I'll tell you all about it later," Ironhide said. "Just know that I had to walk on a wire to prove so to her."

El Fin