Author's Note: Sorry about the long delay in posting. I've got this and "The Tie That Binds" running simultaneously, but I have not forgotten or abandoned Annabelle. :) There's much more to come.

Prom…wasn't much on Diego Garcia. There were only about forty kids old enough to attend, though we did hold it in the Enlisted Men's Club instead of at the school gym, so it could have been worse, I suppose.

You would have thought Arcee had died and gone to heaven, though. When I woke up the Sunday morning after Michelle's quinceañera, the femme and her sister were already downstairs making muffins and tea for me and Mom. I yawned hugely as I wandered into the kitchen in my bathrobe. "You do realize it's only 06:30 on a weekend, right?"

"Finally!" R.C. exclaimed, setting a muffin and a cup of tea at my usual kitchen table chair. "Eat. We need you showered and dressed so we can start talking accessories." All business, she sat down in the spot next to mine, pulling my laptop to an angle where I could see the screen, too. "I've checked the shipping times and if we order today, we should be able to get some new jewelry for you to wear to the prom."

I glanced at Mia, who shrugged. "Don't blame me – she was born first! Besides, I took care of my mate being a hassle. You get to deal with the fashionista."

R.C. playfully stuck her tongue out at her (apparently younger) sister, and I studied her closely. She looked like my favorite Autobot aunt – except the Arcee I knew wouldn't have done that in a million years. "Alright, who are you and how did you get your holoform to look and sound like R.C.?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Whatever."

"No, seriously. Are you Skids?" My gaze darted to Mia again. "Mudflap?"

Mia rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. She's just excited."

"For you," R.C. added, clicking on a link to bring up the Platt & Masen design house to show me their silver collection. Wow! The only other time I'd ever gotten something from them was when Mr. and Mrs. Epps got married and Mom let her get a little charm bracelet for me since I was the flower girl. They specialized in "the vintage look for the modern woman" and were pretty pricey.

"But what am I going to wear?" I asked. "That silver would look awful with the blue-and-gold gown I wore to the last New Year's Eve party."

R.C. slyly smiled and waltzed to the living room, returning with a beautiful strapless, tea-length dress. It was made of a stately slate-grey satin that looked like liquid silver when it rustled, and the bodice had a matching, subtle brocade. With my blonde hair, it would be a striking contrast.

"Wow!" I breathed. "Where did you get that? When did you get that?"

She shrugged, though she was radiating smugness. "Alice Brandon was doing a special last fall, so I had her make two for you – one for last Christmas and one for next. The fashion gods must have been smiling on you, Firebrand."

I stood up and stepped closer to get a better look at the gown, and Mia chuckled. "Best of all, it's a transformer."

R.C. smirked at my skeptical look and lifted the hem of the dress. There was a vibrant pink taffeta underskirt – the same color as Arcee's component – that would peek out any time I twirled in it. "A flirty transformer," she clarified.

Squealing in excitement, I bolted for the stairs so I could get cleaned up and try it on. Half-way up, I stopped and pivoted to holler down, "Thank you!"

…

That night, R.C. had me model the dress for my parents. Mom thought it was beautiful, but Dad said it looked 'okay' in comparison to me, making me blush the same color as the underskirt. He always treated me like his little lady. Oh, and Mom had this gorgeous silver-and-diamond locket with coordinating earrings that matched the dress perfectly and so we didn't even need to worry about a rush-order on the jewelry.

'Hide was banned from seeing even a holo of me dressed up like that on the grounds that he was still in the dog house. Even Autobots needed tough love sometimes.

Monday, Brian held my hand and walked me from class to class, and I found myself starting to really enjoy the attention, both from him and from his friends. I sat with them again at lunch, and he texted me off and on all evening. Turns out we had very different taste in music, but thanks to my sci-fi/fantasy bent (courtesy of growing up with aliens), we both liked a lot of the same movies. He wasn't the avid reader I was, but he did like sports, and I could talk football with him, at least a little bit. (No way in the Pit was I inviting him over for the Autobot football game that Saturday, though. 'Hide would use the excuse to break a few bones.) I was actually surprised by how much I liked Brian.

The rest of the week was the same – holding hands, sitting together, texting. In other words, great!

At the football game, 'Hide kept to himself which I had kind of expected, but it was an unpleasant surprise that Skids and Mudflap did, too. All three of them kept giving me Not Happy looks from across the yard, even though Chromia cuffed 'Hide whenever she caught him. I couldn't help but feel a little twinge of guilt when 'Hide would frown and then look away when I caught his gaze, and I had to keep reminding myself that he was the one with the problem, not me. Honestly, though, the twins had me most worried – they weren't exactly as threatening as Ironhide (okay, not anywhere near as threatening), but they were still loose cannons. Maybe I'd better have a word with Dad about making sure they didn't try to 'talk' to Brian.

The next week – the week of prom – was even better. Monday, while holding my hand at lunch, Brian leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Smile for me, 'Belle."

How could I not? And then he gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Our school had a policy against the dreaded PDA's (Public Displays of Affection), so I was shocked that he'd risk getting caught, but he smirked down at me with a devil-may-care light in his eyes, and I warmed from the inside out. He kissed me every day at lunch after that.

It wasn't until Thursday that I saw Heather watching us, cold fury in her eyes. I remembered then that I was just Brian's rebound girl, and I understood with a kind of queasy realization that it was all a show for her. To tick her off. And it was working. Looking at Brian, I began to wonder if maybe what began as rebound might turn into something more. Seeing me staring, he winked, and I tentatively smiled in answer.

…

Friday after school, Mia was the one to pick me up, and when I walked into the living room, Mom and R.C. had turned it into a makeshift beauty salon.

R.C. gestured me into the chair of honor in front of the full-length mirrors they'd kidnapped from Mom's bedroom and then handed me a stack of style magazines. "So, we've flipped through those and narrowed your hair choices down to five. They're marked with paperclips. We all think you need an up-do with some hair still loose. I can trim it as needed."

Okaaay. R.C. was really getting into this. Usually she just did the clothes and accessories and left the hair and makeup to Mom. I turned to each marked page, settling on the one with a bunch of intricate little braids. It was pretty, and I had three females to entertain. "That one."

Grinning, R.C. said, "Right, femmes, let's get to work!"

It was amazing to watch the transformation in the mirror. I mean, sure, I was pretty enough, but little by little, the girl looking back at me started turning into someone glamorous. We took a snack break before they put my makeup on, and then the femmes gave me a manicure and pedicure while Mom focused on my face.

Dad got home from work about a half-hour before Brian was supposed to pick me up, and he just kept staring at me like he didn't recognize me. Not that I blamed him. I'd seen the whole thing from start to finish and still couldn't really wrap my brain around the sight in the mirror.

Careful to not rumple the dress or mess with my hair, he hugged me while Mom and the femmes put the living room back together. "You look beautiful. My little lady."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Jewelry," R.C. announced, and Mom grabbed my hand to pull me upstairs.

The femmes followed, and over my shoulder, I said to them, "You guys just want me to make a dramatic entrance."

"Bulls-eye," Mia answered, smiling.

So we hung out in Mom's room, talking and giggling. R.C. and Mia got into a really serious pillow fight at one point and Mom had to pull me out into the hall to prevent an accidental tarring and feathering. Boisterous femmes – if they fought like they played, it was no wonder NEST always joked about the femmes being more dangerous than the mechs. The doorbell ringing was the only thing that broke up the fight. Both femmes materialized outside the bedroom door, leaving the fluffy white mess of gutted pillows behind. Lucky them.

I heard Dad answer the door, and Mom gave me one more looking over, adjusting one of the loose ringlets draped over my shoulder and turning me around to check for random feathers. "You really…" She sighed with a half-smile, fighting back the emotion. "You really do look like a young lady. Have fun tonight, sweetheart."

I hugged her, and then the femmes each stole a hug, too, before they hurried down the stairs ahead of me. To watch Brian's reaction to their handiwork, no doubt. Taking a deep breath, I started down the stairs.

I had seen Brian's eyes light up before when he saw me, but it was nothing like this time. Hearing me on the stairs, he turned, smiling in anticipation, but then his jaw actually dropped just a little bit. And then he checked me out – head to toe – and I was suddenly grateful the femmes had insisted on giving me a pedicure, too. When he met my gaze again, there was something like awe behind his smile. "Wow," he breathed.

Of course, Brian dressed to the nines was nothing to sniff at, either. Nobody bothered with tuxes, because honestly how would you even get one on Diego Garcia? But he was in a black suit coat with an aquamarine button-down that emphasized his dark hair and blue eyes, and he held himself with the bearing of an officer's son – straight and strong. His shoes even shone with polish. Slagging gorgeous, that's what he was.

Remembering himself, he held out a wrist corsage for me, and I let him slip it on me. Mom stepped into the kitchen to get his boutonniere, and my heart was in my throat when I leaned in close to his chest to pin it on him.

Tonight was going to just be magical, I could feel it.

Brian held out his arm for me, and I looped mine through his. Mia retrieved a slivery-gray shawl and draped it over my shoulders. And then we were heading for the door.

Dad held out a keychain holding a single black key – stamped with 'GMC.' Time slowed as I realized the significance of that little piece of metal. R.C. turned to her sister – accusations mingled with disbelief in her expression – and Mia huffed in annoyance.

"Are you certain, sir?" Brian asked Dad.

"Like I said," Dad drawled. "If I can trust you with my daughter, I can trust you with my truck."

Brian accepted the key, and there was a spring in his step as he walked us out onto the porch. I wasn't even sure I could feel my feet; I was that numb with shock and anger.

Just before the door closed behind us, Mom growled to Dad, "You didn't!"

As we approached Ironhide's driver-side door, Brian let me go and eagerly reached for the handle, and I continued around to the other side, but both doors were locked. He pushed the door remote, but neither side released. Narrowing my eyes at the Autobot who was practically radiating smugness even in his alt-form, I hissed, "Behave!"

"What was that?" Brian absent-mindedly asked, struggling to unlock the driver-side door with the real key now.

"This truck is temperamental," I said. "You'll have to let me in on the passenger side and I'll unlock your door for you."

"Oh!" he said, hurrying around the front of the truck. I mentally winced, imagining Ironhide rolling forward just then. "Where are my manners?"

Which was Ironhide's point, I had no doubt. He had somehow threatened, blackmailed, or bribed Dad into making him our ride for tonight so he could make sure I was treated with respect. My door easily opened for Brian and he helped me in before closing my door for me.

This night had gone from magical to miserable, just like that.

"Your name is mud," I whispered to 'Hide while Brian walked back around to the driver side.

"I don't care, as long as you're safe," he whispered back through the speakers. I dramatically rolled my eyes at him, knowing that he'd see it somehow.