Author's Note: There are two must-reads for this chapter. The first is Introductions: Raquel Gutierrez-Ramon (which has been up for a while), and the second is Reunion, its sequel which begins going up today.

Also, Radio Flyer (the femme RaFly) is from Darthishtar's Undercover (also listed on this profile).

Enjoy!

R.C. handed the official-looking paper to Hyde. "Raquel?"

Barely glancing at it, he nodded and gave her a cocky little smile. "Raquel."

"Who's she?" I asked.

Hyde chuckled softly. "She's my number-one fangirl."

"After Chromia," R.C. reminded him with a smirk. To me, she said, "She was a lawyer in Mission City, and Ironhide saved her life the day the All Spark was destroyed. She's been on Autobots' payroll, courtesy of Samuel, for almost ten years now."

"Fangirl?" I incredulously repeated.

"Uh-huh," Hyde answered, grinning. "She's great."

"And she'll be able to tell us more quickly and probably more accurately than the normal NEST lawyers if this," R.C. gestured at the paper in Hyde's hand, "is going to be garbage or a headache."

"Probably both," Hyde grumbled. Glancing at me, he said, "You humans and your legal system."

"Hey, don't blame me!" I said, throwing up my hands defensively. "I just live here!"

R.C. chuckled as she opened a door that led to a parking lot. A Topkick and a trio of motorcycles (two of which had riders lounging idly against them) were parked near the back of the lot.

"You brought the whole trio?" I asked her incredulously.

"Didn't know how much firepower we'd need," she said with a wink.

More seriously, Hyde asked, "Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "Sure. They never even laid a hand on me."

"Good," Hyde rumbled. "The slaggers were smart and didn't have anything connected to the servers. We were reduced to just standing in the hallway like this," he gestured to his holoform, "and listening."

Opening the passenger side door of his alt-form for me, Hyde helped me into the cab and then walked back around to sit behind the wheel. Putting the Topkick in gear, he said, "Impressive performance, though. R.C. just about keeled over when you cracked that line about the bra."

I sniggered, remembering. "It was fun to get his goat like that. Didn't work as well as I'd hoped, though."

He shrugged. "Still. You did good in there, Annabelle. You made us proud."

My cheeks burned in embarrassment at his praise. "Thanks. I remembered what you'd said about being interrogated by the enemy. It helped."

"I'm glad it was just a liaison and not a real enemy, then." His eyes seemed to blaze with fury at the mere thought of me in Decepticon hands.

"Me, too," I answered in a small voice.

…

In the main hangar, Ironhide transformed and led me and Arcee into the Autobot side. The door to their barracks opened automatically for him, and the sight that greeted me was the exact opposite of the last time I'd been here. The lights were up, making the whole, enormous room bright, and there was a pleasant babble of voices. It looked like every Autobot on the island was here. Dad ran over to us and caught me up in a hug, swinging me around. Setting me on my feet, he beamed proudly at me. "Good job, Annabelle."

I blushed. "Thanks."

"Yes," Optimus rumbled. "Well done."

I ducked my head a little at the praise, awestruck as usual by the Autobot leader's imposing presence.

"The liaison's going to try again," Jolt announced, his head cocked the side as though listening, and I realized he must have tapped Marshall's phone. Nosy, gossipy Autobots.

"Like hell," Dad growled.

"Let me handle this," Ironhide said to him. "Raquel."

Dad's sly grin echoed Hyde's smile earlier. "Do it. Send her after him."

I needed to meet this woman.

"In the meantime," Ratchet said, "Annabelle should return to school."

"OH! I got a hundred percent on my bio test," I told him.

"That's more like it," he nodded in approval. "You're in rare form today, femme."

"Thanks." My heart glowed with happiness – that was the first time any of them had called me a femme since the day Ironhide got hurt.

…

Freedom! It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving – the beginning of the holiday vacation – and I practically skipped out of the school at the end of the day. We had plans for a huge Thanksgiving dinner at our house, complete with an Autobot football game. I felt lighter than air.

When I got outside, though, I saw an unmistakable yellow Camaro waiting in the pick-up zone. A couple stood leaning against the car – Sam and Mikaela Witwicky! I hadn't seen them in a year and a half, what with them living in D.C. for his ambassadorial work. Grinning, I ran to them, throwing my arms around them both. "Hey you guys!"

Mrs. Witwicky chuckled, holding me tight. "Hey yourself."

"No one told me you were coming," I scolded, stepping back and smiling like an idiot. "Where are your kids?"

"At the base daycare," she said.

"We wanted it to be a surprise," Mr. Witwicky explained, turning to open the door for me.

I hesitated for a split second before climbing into the back seat. Another Autobot, but which one? The person I'd known as 'Bee was Mr. Witwicky's best friend. His name was always included with the Witwicky's Christmas presents and he IMed me pretty regularly, but I barely knew Wheelie. The 'bot peeled out, leaving the school behind us. "Wheelie or Bumblebee?" I asked once we were on our way.

Mr. Witwicky chuckled, and a toy truck on the seat beside me suddenly transformed, making me yelp. "Whaddya think, squishy?" the little Autobot grumbled, sullenly crossing his arms. "That I would be yellow? For someone who's supposed to be smart, you ain't too bright."

"Oh." I blushed. "Hi, Wheelie." In a louder voice, I added, "Hi, Bumblebee."

The engine made the frame rumble in a familiar Autobot laugh. The voice from the radio was not what I expected, sounding like an adult talking to a toddler. "Well, hi there."

"He lost his voice in battle," Mr. Witwicky explained for the mech. "He talks through quotes."

"…or text us," a female voice-over said from the radio.

"Or he can text you," Mr. Witwicky continued with a grin.

"OH! I forgot to turn my phone on." Pulling it out of my backpack, I powered it up. "There. Sorry about that, 'Bee."

My phone chimed, announcing a text. //np//

I grinned. Most of the 'bots didn't use netspeak, but I'd always thought 'Bee was younger at heart than the others – with the obvious exception of Skids and Mudflap. Bumblebee careened around corners and zipped across the island, reminding me of Sideswipe but less scary. Fun, I thought with a grin. That was 'Bee in a word – fun!

He slowed only marginally as we entered the Autobot hangar, instead taking us directly to the barracks. Hmm, that was odd. Everyone was already assembled, sitting on the edge of the circle cut into the floor. Optimus sat facing the door with several spaces to his right. Then there was a group of Autobots I didn't recognize. An off-white 'bot with the armor of a femme but a bit boxier than I was used to in a female Autobot sat beside a dusty-green mech with a shoulder-launcher like Wheeljack. Beside him was a black mech even bigger than Ironhide but with silver features under the armor. Then there was a royal-blue mech who reminded me oddly of Bumblebee except he was taller and a little leaner through the body but with broader shoulders. And lastly there was an orange-and-white mech with helicopter rotors who was around the same height as Ratchet. Beside them were Arcee, Ironhide, Chromia, Mom and Dad (who sat exactly opposite Optimus), Skids and Mudflap, Jolt, Wheeljack, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, Ratchet, and Prowl (who sat at Prime's left). The lights were dim like they had been that first time when I came to thank Ratchet, and the whole thing had a formal air.

With every optic and eye on us, I nervously got out of Bumblebee's cab.

Optimus stood as Bumblebee transformed behind me. "Welcome. Come take your places."

The Witwicky's began skirting the ring of Autobots, but Dad gestured for me to join them. I hurried over, watching Bumblebee curiously. Doorwings. The only other Autobots I knew with doorwings were Prowl and Mudflap, and with both of them, the tilt and motion of the wings were like unique windows into what they were feeling. I wasn't sure how to interpret the angle and movement of 'Bee's wings. Would they be here long enough for me to learn how to read him?

Mr. Witwicky sat down beside Optimus, with Mrs. Witwicky, Wheelie, and Bumblebee filling the rest of the gap. Turning to the human beside him, Prime said, "The floor is yours."

Mr. Witwicky nodded and hopped off the ledge into the circle. "Come here please, Spitlet."

I pursed my lips, wondering if he was using the name to annoy me or if he'd just missed the memo. Taking a deep breath, I hopped down and crossed the wide, brightly-painted floor to him. The Autobots had never been this imposing – not even when I first touched Ratchet.

When I was a couple of steps away from him, he solemnly said, "You have learned the truth about Ironhide and the others, but there is another truth you must know before we can call you an Autobot. Prowl?"

The enforcer stood and placed an ornate metal box at Mr. Witwicky's feet. Using senses I couldn't perceive, Prowl unlocked the clasp and lifted the lid. Inside was a…I wasn't sure what it was or even how to describe it. It was a metal thing, elongated and pointed on either end. The exterior was a silvery web of some kind, and inside it something was glimmering with a pale blue light.

"The Matrix of Leadership," Mr. Witwicky said. "You know that Optimus is the leader of the Autobots, but do you know the significance of the name of Prime?"

I shook my head 'no' uncertainly.

"The Primes were the first of our race, a dynasty of leaders," Optimus explained. Gesturing toward us, he said, "The Matrix of Leadership belongs to the Primes and will only activate for them. Do you understand?"

"I think so," I softly answered.

Mr. Witwicky smiled a little and then picked up the Matrix. It flared into a vivid, brilliant blue, the light glowing violet between his fingers and filling the darkened room to flicker on the walls. It was beautiful. In the back of my mind, I noticed a low murmur from the new Autobots. When my gaze finally met Mr. Witwicky's again, he asked, "Do you still understand?"

It was the Primes' Matrix…it activated for him…he was a Prime? A human Prime? My jaw dropped and it was a long moment before I could stammer, "I think so."

He nodded, satisfied, and placed the Matrix back in its box. "Then you understand that the name you receive today is not a whim or an indulgence. It is a mark of honor and responsibility as a sentient who has aligned herself with the Autobots."

I swallowed hard and nodded again.

"We have thought for a long time about what designation to offer you, but in the end, it was the grudging respect of your adversary that was most appropriate. I am Samuel Prime, and I give you the designation Firebrand. As your human name honors your father, your Autobot name continues to honor your mother. Is this acceptable?"

Firebrand – it was worlds better than Spitlet. "Yes," I solemnly answered.

"Good. Then report to Ratchet within the next twenty-four hours to receive your Autobot insignia. Tomorrow morning, we'll give you a full briefing, explain your duties, and begin your training. Until then, I commend you to the care of Iron Will and Spitfire."

"Thank you," I murmured, bobbing my head in a slight bow before turning and quickly walking back to my parents. Duties? I hadn't anticipated duties. They were serious about this. But then again, so I was I, and I felt a growing excitement at the thought of really, truly, officially being an Autobot. That was just so cool! By the time I sat down beside my folks, I was grinning like an idiot.

Mr. Witwicky returned to his place beside Optimus. "I yield the floor."

Optimus rose to his feet again. "You all know that Ironhide was injured by a new weapon. It was our best guess that Shockwave was the one who developed it. Our guess has now been confirmed. Trailbreaker?"

The large, black Autobot rose to his feet. Tilting his head to acknowledge both Optimus and Mr. Witwicky, he said, "Initially under the command of Hot Rod, Hound, Mirage, Evac, and I have followed Shockwave here. It was our mission to offline the mech if possible, and if not, to disrupt his operations." He paused and looked directly at Ironhide. "I'm sorry we failed you."

"If you can apologize to my face, then you didn't fail," Ironhide gruffly answered.

Trailbreaker bobbed his head, acknowledging 'Hide's forgiveness. "We lost first Springer and then Hot Rod in battle since leaving Cybertron, but we have been able to destroy a number of Decepticon development and munitions facilities." Looking back at Optimus, Trailbreaker said, "With the loss of Hot Rod and his second, I have led us as best I could, but I place the leadership of our squad at your feet, Prime. As always, our allegiance is to you. To you both."

Mr. Witwicky smiled when Trailbreaker included him and then glanced up at Optimus. The Autobot leader's optics grew distant for a moment and then he stirred, lifting his head slightly. "We commend you and your squad for your efforts and sacrifice. By continuing their mission, you have honored your fallen comrades. I will not disband your team nor revoke the commission I gave to Hot Rod and Springer. After consulting with my brother, we have decided that you will continue their work. With the arrival of Shockwave and the escalation of hostilities we believe he will bring, we have decided that Bumblebee should have reinforcements to protect the human Prime. Your team will be well suited to an urban unit in Washington D.C. RadioFlyer," Optimus gestured toward the off-white femme, "has been our informal homeland security agent. For years she has been engaging in espionage and recon around the globe. She, too, will be joining your team under Bumblebee's command, bringing your unit to six members again."

Trailbreaker bowed his head before sitting down. "Yes, Prime. Thank you."

Optimus resumed his seat, and Mr. Witwicky hopped down into the circle again. Addressing the new Autobots, he said, "My human faction – my nation – celebrates a day of gratitude and thanksgiving soon. We are all of us grateful for the arrival of four new friends and companions-in-arms. Spitfire and her mate Iron Will have extended an invitation to us to celebrate both the holiday and your arrival with their family. Attendance is not required, but I would urge you to come and acclimatize yourself to human company. We will depart for D.C. in five days. In the meantime, you have your assignments." Turning, he sat down again and began speaking with Mrs. Witwicky, and the Autobots took that to be a dismissal.

Most of them went to speak with the newcomers, though Prowl, Optimus, Mr. Witwicky, and Bumblebee left together, and Dad ducked out to join them. Looking a little lost, Mrs. Witwicky eventually wandered over to us, Wheelie in tow. "Hey Spitfire, Firebrand."

I grinned to hear her address me by my new name. "Thanks. But what do we call you? I mean, Mr. Witwicky is…"

"Samuel, if you want to be formal," Mrs. Witwicky answered. "Human friends still call him Sam, but of the Autobots, only Bumblebee and Optimus call him that."

"She's the Warrior Goddess," Wheelie spoke up, looking almost adoringly at Mrs. Witwicky. "I gave her the name," he added proudly.

She blushed a little and affectionately nudged the little 'bot with her foot. "He's the only one who calls me that. I go by simply Warrior most of the time."

"Yeah, and I've named the kids, too," the little mech said. "Rugrat and Anklebiter."

Mom shook her head at Wheelie. "Daemon and Beatrice would love that."

I sniggered. "Even those are better than Spitlet! At least they sound wanna-be tough. My old Autobot nickname was a reference to the fact that I drooled as a baby."