I staggered through the front door, blinded by tears, but Hyde's steady hand under my elbow didn't let me walk into anything. "What…?" I heard Mom exclaim, but she didn't say anything after that, so I figured Hyde must have silenced her with a look.

The only good thing about Ironhide being a witness to my disastrous breakup was that I didn't have to tell anyone. "'M going to bed," I mumbled and, finding the railing for the stairs, dragged myself up to my room.

Brian's parting shot ran through my mind over and over. Colonel's drama queen. Snob. Bitch.

I wasn't a snob! I never was invited to anything! And nobody came when I invited them. Nobody except the Autobots. Nobody except grownups and aliens.

I weakly laughed through my tears as I curled up in the middle of my bed. No wonder I was a slagged-up mess when it came to social stuff. Aliens and adults – they were my peers.

I didn't cut class with a military escort because I was Rambo's daughter – it was because I was a fragging ambassador! And I couldn't – wasn't allowed – to explain it to Brian or any of the kids at school. My shoulders shook again with sobs. So. Not. Fair!

But Brian was right about one thing – the only thing special about me was that I was Will Lennox's daughter. I wouldn't be a junior Autobot ambassador and holoform trainer if I'd been somebody else's kid. Mr. Witwicky wouldn't know me from Eve if my mom wasn't the Autobot den mother. I was nobody. Just the teenage brat who happened to be in the right place at the right time.

Eventually my bedroom door creaked on its hinges, and Mom sat beside me on the bed. She didn't say anything – just rubbed my back while I cried. I sobbed harder at first, now that someone was here to lean on, but eventually the sobs eased up to weeping until I was finally cried out except for the occasional sniffle. All the while, Mom patiently sat with me. Finally she offered, "I love you."

That brought on another round of water works. It was something, at least, that she still loved me despite me being such an idiot with Brian. At least she wasn't embarrassed by me. She brushed the hair away from my face and softly asked, "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," I mumbled.

A beat later, she said, "Okay. But if you change your mind or think of anything – and I do mean anything – let me know."

"K," I agreed with a shuddering breath.

She kissed my forehead. "Good night."

…

The next morning, Sunday, I heard a light tap on my bedroom door. My eyes were all gritty from the crying, and I rubbed them as I called, "If you're here to cheer me up, go away!"

My dad answered, "What if I'm here to offer my services as a hitman?"

I snorted despite myself. He was mostly joking. I hoped. "I'm listening."

He pushed the door open and sat down beside me on the bed. More serious now, he asked, "You okay?"

"I will be," I promised him.

"Ironhide told us what happened."

"Showed you a holo, didn't he."

His poker face was all the answer I needed. I groaned and buried my face in my pillow.

"My point," he said, "is that you don't have to talk about it, but I'm here if you want to. Your mom and me both." After a second of hesitation, he added, "And so is Ironhide."

"That glitch had the ball-bearings to say that?" I demanded.

Dad's eyes flashed in anger for a second before he reined himself in. "He didn't have to, Annabelle. I've only ever seen him that upset once."

I didn't have to be a genius to figure out when that one other time might be – and that one had been my fault, too. Nobody had upset him like I did on my fifteenth birthday. With a sinking feeling, I realized that Upset Ironhide meant Violent Ironhide. "Tell me he hasn't blown a great big crater in the island where Brian used to be standing."

"Not yet, though he's threatened to go after him. The femmes have, too, and if I were in Brian's shoes, I think I'd prefer Ironhide as my executioner."

"Don't," I said, frowning and refusing to start crying again. "Don't let them. Not for me."

He blinked once in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I let out an exasperated sigh. "It means what you think it means, Dad. Me – my feelings or honor or whatever other crazy slag they think their defending – I'm not worth them going against the Autobot code. It's not even worth them getting in trouble with the brass for blowing their cover while harassing him."

"They think it is. That you are worth it."

I snorted, and it made me sneeze. Dad handed me the box of tissues from my night stand.

"I'm serious, Annabelle," he said after I'd blown my nose. "I don't ever want to hear that you don't think you're worth it."

"But I'm not!" I insisted. "I'm like the cute puppy in the pet-store window – in the right place at the right time to get adopted. I don't have anything special to offer." Despite myself, my eyes started tearing up again. "I can't fight and I don't have Mom's hospitality and…"

"Samuel Prime thinks otherwise," Dad softly interrupted. "You remember. He said as much – that fate had put you in our family for a reason. Being in the right place in the right time is proof that you have something unique to offer. Like how you handled Joe Marshall's interrogation. You do have gifts, and they do…" He paused. "But that's not what you're saying, is it."

I grimaced a little and looked down.

"Slag," he muttered under his breath. Looking at me, he said, "We love you for you, Annabelle. Not because of what you have to offer but because of what you are. You have grown into a young woman who I honestly think will be an important ally for the Autobots. But even when you were just a baby, we loved you. I loved you so much that I walked through Soccent's destruction and through every battle from Mission City onward so I could make the world a little safer for you."

In other words, he'd take a bullet for me. I knew as a matter of fact that he had taken bullets. Even when things were at their best with me and Brian, I don't think I would have believed he loved me that much.

Something I'd heard the chaplains say at several NEST funerals randomly ran through my head. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

I swallowed hard, remembering Ironhide stretched out on the repair berth while Johnston pulled radioactive pellets out of the Autobot's cavernous chest. I knew without a doubt that Ironhide would take a deathblow for me. Same thing with Arcee and Chromia and Ratchet. Optimus would, no question. Probably even Wheelie. I glanced up at Dad. "Is Ironhide still here?"

"Yeah," Dad cautiously admitted.

I took a deep breath and threw off the covers. "I'm going to go see him," I announced, though I paused long enough to give Dad a tight hug. "Thanks."

"Anything for you," he said, smoothing my hair and kissing the top of my head. It wasn't the type of kiss I'd been getting, but it was familiar – and much more real.

Mom waylaid me in the kitchen with a tight squeeze and promises of pancakes, and I embraced her back before walking out onto the back deck. Ironhide loomed black and silent in the shadow of the palms. I sank down to sit on the steps of the deck, belatedly realizing that I must look pretty silly in my pink flannel pajama pants and black tanktop with messed-up morning hair.

"Hey," I softly said.

"Good morning," he rumbled as quietly as he could.

I sighed, trying to sort through my feelings. I was plenty angry still, not to mention hurt, but I had a little more perspective than I did last night. For one thing, I'd realized – as much as I hated to admit it – that he had been right.

"I didn't appreciate it," I murmured.

"I'm sorry, Annabelle. I truly am. I…" He floundered for words, and I realized he'd misunderstood me.

"No, I mean, I should have appreciated it and didn't."

He waited in wary silence for the rest.

"If you say 'I told you so,' I'll hate you forever – or at least for a few days. But…you were right about the whole 'he doesn't see your soul' thing. I should have listened. I'm sorry." I swallowed hard, tears welling in my eyes again as I remembered Brian's brutal words last night. "Don't do it again. I'll listen, or at least I'll try, but don't interfere again, 'kay? Because I love you but I seriously want to slash your tires right now."

Aaron Hyde materialized in front of me and silently offered me a bowie knife. I huffed a half-hearted chuckle and pushed it aside, instead throwing my arms around him. He held me close, stroking my hair just like Dad. "Thanks for watching out for me," I whispered through tears of gratitude now. "And thanks for not killing Brian."

"Your mother explained pretty vividly that it would only make things worse between us. You are the only thing more important than ending his worthless life."

And I think that was the most emphatic way Ironhide could have ever told me he loved me. "She was right," I said, just to be clear on that point. "The idea is tempting, but you're an Autobot. You're one of the good guys. I want you to stay that way."

He grunted, but didn't actually answer.

"Besides, he's nothing. Nobody. Definitely not worth your time and attention."

"He was worth yours," Ironhide answered, a subdued threat in his voice, and I knew that Brian still had a bulls-eye on his head.

"Not anymore," I replied, defiance welling up in my soul. He wasn't worth Ironhide's time or mine. "Not anymore."

…

The next day I went to school with mascara on and my chin held high. If he was going to be a slagging bastard, I wasn't going to shed a tear for him. After school was a different story, though, because no matter how much I told myself Brian wasn't worth it, I still hurt. I cried my mascara off and when I finally pulled myself together, I went downstairs to the living room and threw myself into doing homework. The glitch of a human would break up with me the week before finals. I was half-way through Spanish vocab when the doorbell rang. I was listening to music, so I let Mom answer it. Even through the headphones, though, I could hear Sideswipe's boisterous, "Hey, Spitfire!"

I half-smiled at the sound and pushed my books aside, taking off the headphones. It wasn't like I was enjoying trying to cram months' worth of learning into a few hours of studying. Autobots were bound to be a better distraction than finals.

"Hi guys!" Mom sounded genuinely surprised. "What's up?" A beat later, she said, "Oh. I don't know if…"

Sunstreaker's holoform pushed past her into the living room, and I stood up to greet him. And then I saw what he had in his hands. A dozen roses in a vase, half silvery grey and half sunny yellow. Oh.

Sunny set the vase on the coffee table between us and then stepped back. Sideswipe was nervous, you could tell by the way his hands were constantly in motion. Sunstreaker, however, was the picture of nonchalance. He stood, leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb with his hands in his pockets.

After exchanging a glance with his brother, Sideswipe said, "So we need you to settle a question for us, Firebrand."

"Yeah," Sunstreaker added. "Because I think you'll want to go out with me because I'm better looking…"

Sideswipe jumped in, "But I think you'll have taste and will choose someone with an actual personality. Besides, Sunstreaker's the homicidal one, so you'll want him to be the one to beat up Brian."

"But I think," Sunny answered, "you might not want Brian to actually die so you'll go out with me and let Sides be the one to bloody the idiot."

"But I think your dad's less likely to have an aneurism if you go on a date with me."

"But I think…"

"HOLD IT!" Mom said, stepping to my side and crossing her arms. "Who says she's going on a date with either of you?"

They looked at each other like the idea of me not choosing one of them had never entered their processors.

"Don't you want to date?" Sunny asked.

Mom pursed her lips but didn't say anything.

"Um, yeah," I answered, finally finding my voice, "but not my big brothers!"

Sideswipe was genuinely confused. "We're not…"

Mom sighed. "Look, it's a very kind gesture, but I think maybe we should let Annabelle study while you and I have a little talk in the backyard."

"It's 'cause we're too old, isn't it," Sunstreaker grumbled. "You want the younger twins."

Sideswipe visibly brightened. "We can make our holoforms younger."

Exasperated, I threw my hands in the air. "I don't want to date any Autobot!"

"Well if a date is just having fun like you told Ironhide, then why not?"

"Because it'd be a pity date, that's why." The tears sprang to my eyes again, and I angrily wiped them away. It wasn't their fault that the intricacies of human courtship were lost on them.

"Well that solves everything," Sunstreaker said with a smirk. "Everyone knows I have no pity. Go out with me. A movie and ice cream."

"Ugh, Sunstreaker! No. And for future reference, bringing up past homicides is not the way to convince girls to date you."

"Jolt?" Sunny pressed. "He's never harmed an Insecticon."

I crossed my arms. "Hey, be nice!"

"Maybe she likes one of the older ones," Sides said.

"Wheeljack?" Sunny asked, disgust plain on his face.

"What part of 'not dating any Autobot' do you not understand?"

Sides ignored me. "Ratchet? Some girls have a thing for doctors, I hear."

I rolled my eyes. "Please. That mental image actually hurt."

"Ironhide's already taken," Sunny mused, and then he gave me an appraising look. "And so is Chromia. Do you prefer femmes?"

"Gah!" I grabbed the nearest potential missile – a largish candle from the coffee table – and hurled it at Sunstreaker. Punk melee warrior that he is, he easily caught it with a smirk.

"I do not prefer females!" I snarled.

"Then tell us," Sideswipe begged. "If you had to go on a date with an Autobot, which one would it be?"

"I'm not dating any alien machinery, okay?"

"But what if you had to? To save the planet?" Sides wheedled.

I was ready to smack him, melee warrior or not. "When would going on a date ever save the planet?"

"Guys," Mom said, putting her hands on her hips. "That's enough."

It suddenly clicked. "You've got a bet riding on this, don't you."

Again Sides ignored me, whining to Mom, "But the suspense is killing us."

"Then Prowl will be happy with the intel on how to offline you."

Sunstreaker grinned at her. It was not a friendly grin – it was one that usually had Ironhide or Sideswipe rolling their sleeves up for a smack-down. "We're not leaving until she tells us, Spitfire."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "If I tell you, will you go away?

"'Bot's honor," Sideswipe answered.

"Fine. If I had to go out with an Autobot, it would be Optimus. Now leave."

You could have heard a pin drop, and then Sunny and Sides busted out in laughter. I mean, they were hanging on each others' shoulders for support they were laughing so hard. Tears swam in my eyes again and I bolted to my bedroom. I didn't lock the door because, so help me Primus, if one of them tried to follow me in here, I would find a way to kill an Autobot and with how I felt right then, I wouldn't regret it one bit.

Almost immediately, my cell phone chimed, announcing I had received a text message.

"Oh, Pit," I grumbled. Picking it up, I saw it was from Ironhide. /I'm on my way to haul their slagging afts back to the base./

Before I finished reading it, the phone chimed with another text, this time from Chromia. /I'm with Ironhide, and there won't be enough left of 'em to bring back to the base./

I placed the cell phone on my dresser and lay down on my bed, ignoring the next chime announcing another message.

Mom knocked on my door. "Annabelle? I took a baseball bat to Sideswipe and they both retreated after that. Will you let me in?"

The phone on my dresser chimed with yet another text.

I opened the door and Mom entered, giving me a wry smile. "Life's never boring with Autobots around, is it?"

Chime. Another text. Chime. Another text.

I plopped down on the bed again. "Do they ever do anything besides annoy the crap out of me?"

"Occasionally they save the world."

Chime. Another text.

Yeah, by dating lower life-forms, a snarky voice said in my mind. Answering Mom, I grumbled, "I guess we'd better not kill them, then."

Chime. Mom crossed to my dresser and turned the power off on my phone. Then she sat on the bed and put her arm around my shoulders. "Were you serious about Optimus?"

I grimaced, looking down at the carpet.

"You were," Mom realized, a hint of alarm in her voice.

"It's not what you think."

She gently brushed my hair out of my face. "Then tell me."

I looked up at her. "You know at the football games? People will say hi or bring him a drink or whatever, but no one ever stays and talks with him. He never shows it, but sometimes it just feels like he's a little lost. There's a…bubble around him. They're all too respectful. That's why only Dad goes up against him when he plays a lineman. I mean, who are your peers when you're Optimus, leader of the Autobots and the resurrected Prime? Sure, he considers Samuel as his brother, but he's half a world away, and the only one who actually outranks him is God. I think…" I looked down again. "I think he's lonely. And I know what that feels like. And maybe, if we did something fun together, it would help him, too. I pity-date him and he pity-dates me and maybe the pity would cancel itself out and we could both just have fun." I snorted, looking down again. "It'd be more like a daddy-daughter date than anything else, but he sure beats any of the twins." Mom didn't say anything for a long minute, so I added, "That's why Optimus is the only Autobot I'd even consider going to a movie with. I'm not attracted to him or anything weird like that."

Mom touched my chin, tipping my face up so she could meet my eyes. "Annabelle Marie Lennox, I am very proud of you."

That wasn't the reaction I was expecting.

She continued, "In the middle of your own hurt, you look with the eyes of compassion and see suffering others do not."

"I kind of noticed it at Thanksgiving," I muttered, blushing.

"Still." She glanced at my cell phone, and I envisioned it with a brimming inbox. "The word's out now." Looking back at me, she said, "Would you mind if I told your dad what you told me? Before he really does have an aneurism or otherwise ends up in Ratchet's care?"

I grimaced but answered, "Sure."

"Do you mind if I tell Optimus?"

"MOM!" I jumped to my feet, scarlet to the ears. "I am not propositioning him! I was just saying if."

"Honey…" Her eyes darted to the lying-in-wait cell phone. "Optimus probably already knows what you said. He might be worried, too. Can you imagine how awkward it will be between him and Will now?"

I rolled my eyes before dramatically throwing myself face-down and spread-eagle on the bed. "I hate the twins." Where visiting human dignitaries couldn't reach me, Sunny and Sides cracked me like an egg.

She patted my shoulder sympathetically. "You and the rest of the universe, sweetie. We'll blame it all on them. They might even earn time in the brig over this."

I grinned evilly at the thought and then sighed. "Fine. If Optimus brings it up, Dad can tell him. But only if Optimus asks."

"Okay." The bed moved as she got to her feet. "But you can't use glitching Autobot brats as an excuse to skip out on your exams. They're top secret, and even here, your teacher would never buy it."

I smirked, knowing that was true. "I'll be down in a few."

"Okay." She closed the door behind her as she left.

…

Dad got home a half-hour late, but he walked right over to me in the kitchen and put his arms around me. "I'm so sorry about all this, Annabelle."

I shrugged, only half-heartedly returning the hug. I thought it, but I didn't say, 'Welcome to my screwed-up life.'

"This will blow over," he assured me. "Two weeks from now the twins will think up another stupid prank and no one will ever remember this."

Lies, lies.

…

After dinner, I went into the living room and tossed my cell phone to my dad. Lounging on the couch, I said, "Okay. They're your idiot robots; you get to screen the texts. How bad is it?"

Dad powered up the cell phone. After seeing the hint of amusement in his surprised expression, I looked at the ceiling. The very last thing I wanted to see right now was someone finding a silver lining in all this. Especially if the silver lining wasn't for me.

"Hmm. The first few are mostly along the lines of 'Is it true?' Then the incident made it onto Bumblebee's blog, and most of the rest of the texts are comment alerts." There was a long pause as he worked his way through those. "Skids and Mudflap are up to their usual stupidity. Arcee -and your mother both went up to bat for you, and Mikaela had the mod shut down the comment thread."

I held my hand out for the phone and scrolled through the senders. Comments by Optimus were conspicuously absent. "Thanks, Dad," I murmured, worried by his silence. If Optimus wasn't commenting, that meant he was still thinking, and I had an ominous feeling about that fact.