Author's Note: I said it in the A/N to Chapter 2 and I'll say it now again: Annabelle doesn't become romantically involved with any of the Autobots. However, that doesn't mean the relationship dynamics between the characters are static. ;) Hope you enjoy!

Only moments after my dad finished screening my text messages, his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

I was sitting close enough that I could hear the other voice on the line. The sound made me want to go curl up in a ball and hide in the bottom of my closet. It was Optimus Prime – who else? "Hello, Will. May I come visit you and your family tonight?"

I shut my eyes, knowing what the answer would be.

"Of course."

"Thank you. I will be there in approximately two minutes."

Sure enough, I could see his headlights coming up the drive. Instead of parking in the front, he rolled around into the back and transformed. Oh no. No holoform or alt-form. He was here as leader of the Autobots. Dad was already on the back deck, and I slowly trailed behind Mom. When we were all there, Optimus said, "William, Sarah, Annabelle, I offer you my deepest apologies."

Oh slag. He used our human names. It felt exactly the same as when Mom used my middle name. We were all in trouble.

"Sideswipe's and Sunstreaker's behavior was inexcusable, and I wanted to personally inform you they are in the brig."

"That's kind of overkill," Dad answered. "They were idiots, but we've come to expect that from them."

Optimus' expression became even more serious. "Then they have enjoyed far too much latitude in their interactions with humans."

Oh frag it! "You're kicking us out?" I said without thinking.

Prime paused, his expression seemingly frozen. A poker face? After a long moment, he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are under orders to refrain from all non-essential human contact until you, Annabelle, deem their sentence complete. This includes the Epps family and Sam and Mikaela."

Whoa. I was disciplining the twins?

"Bumblebee's blog is also suspended until you deem him appropriately penitent." He watched me expectantly.

"Oh" was all I could manage to say.

"Sarah," Prime continued, "Ratchet has uploaded compulsory subroutines for all of us that send a command-level all-call if we refuse to leave when asked. You will never have to chase off one of my Autobots with a baseball bat again."

"Optimus, that really isn't necessary."

"It is already done."

Mom and I shared a worried glance. I'd never heard of him using compulsory anything. Prime was really riled about this for some reason.

Looking at Dad, Optimus said, "You who have fought at our sides and shed your blood in our defense should never be treated as pets. I fear that, in becoming so familiar, we have given you and all who stand with us great insult. I personally value you and your men, Colonel William Lennox, and I ask for your forgiveness on my followers' behalf."

I was floored. Dad looked even more shocked. His jaw slowly closed, and I expected him to protest just like he had earlier about the twins being in the brig. But he didn't. He took a minute to mull over Prime's words. "You don't have a human name," Dad said, and I think that I must have looked as surprised as Optimus did by this turn in the conversation. "Sunny and Sides, 'Mia and 'Hide, 'Jack and 'Bee all have human designations. Even Prowl and Ratchet translate into passable nicknames all by themselves. But you don't use the English translation of your name."

Optimus pressed his metallic lips together.

"Graham told me once what it means. It's Latin for something like First and Best." He let that hang in the air for a second. "No wonder you didn't go with a straight-up English translation. So I'm not sure how to speak to you as William Lennox. I don't know what to say to you without sounding disrespectful as the mere organic approaching First-and-Best of the Autobots. I don't know how to bridge that divide. So I won't. I'm talking to you as Iron Will, Prime. I forgive the twins and Bumblebee and all the others. And I forgive you. But only if you will forgive me for what I'm about to do."

Prime lifted a piece of optic hardware in the mechanical equivalent of raising an eyebrow.

"I, William Lennox, give you the human designation of Tim Furst."

If the whole thing hadn't felt like a really weird dream, I would have laughed out loud. Especially when I caught the dumbfounded look on Optimus' face. Who knew metal could be that expressive? But as his expression slowly changed from shock to great dignity, I realized he was taking my dad seriously.

"So," Dad continued, "do we stay out here and continue this conversation as Autobots or go inside and talk as humans?"

Optimus considered for a moment. "It is your home and for you to decide."

"Inside, then," Dad grinned. "Tim."

"May I speak alone with Annabelle for a moment?" Optimus asked.

Dad looked at me, and I nodded, so he and Mom went inside. This whole day was just weird beyond words. The greatest leader of an awesome alien race wanted to have a heart-to-spark with little old me? Sure, why not? Optimus knelt down so we were eye to optic. "I spoke with Will today, and he explained what you meant earlier. I wished to thank you for your concern for me."

I looked down and mumbled, "You're welcome."

Warm steel lightly brushed my chin as Optimus lifted my face. "I also wished to assure you it's unnecessary. I am no more alone than you are."

He meant it as a comfort, but it really didn't help. I didn't know what to say.

Optimus paused, searching my expression, and then said, "But you feel alone."

He was an alien robot. How could he read my face better than Dad? "Not among the Autobots," I honestly answered.

Again he paused, mulling over what I'd said in the same way Dad had earlier. I was positive it was something Dad learned from him and not the other way around.

"I have to admit," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, "you baffle me sometimes. It takes our sparklings centuries to reach maturity. You have accomplished it in fifteen swift years. I forget, sometimes, how grown you are." Straightening, he said, "You want a normal life."

I sighed deeply. It sounded so…typically teen when he put it that way. "I want to have a chance at one."

"As we learned with Sam and Mikaela, Autobots are incompatible with a normal life. We cannot undo the harm we have caused by selfishly linking our lives with yours. But I can remove future interference. Speak the word and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stay in the brig until your future children are grown. We can provide you with a new cell phone, one that Skids and Mudflap don't have in their speed dial. It can be selective as well – keep Ironhide and Chromia in your life but not Wheeljack or myself. This is a choice that rightfully is yours but you were never given. I offer it to you now. Do you want a normal life?"

I had to admit that, in the last nine months, there were times I had wished for exactly that. But looking Optimus Prime in the optics, I realized I wouldn't trade the people in my life – my family – for the world. Or any number of boyfriends.

"I guess not."

"You would temporarily sacrifice your courtships to maintain our amity with your family?"

Like I had a bunch of boyfriends already lined up. I squared my shoulders. "And with me. Yes."

The light in his optics softened and he looked almost relieved. "Thank you."

Optimus transformed back into his alt-mode, and his holoform climbed out of the cab. I raised my eyebrows at the figure striding across the grass toward me. He had the familiar cowboy hat, glasses, bright blue eyes and dark hair, but he couldn't be a day older than eighteen. He politely offered me his arm – which I automatically took even though I was stunned – as we crossed the deck and he opened the back door for me.

Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, squeezing limes for limeades. Mom looked up and did a double-take at Optimus' younger holoform. Staring owlishly, she elbowed Dad, whose jaw dropped when he finally glanced our way. Mom recovered first, stage-whispering, "And you said no one could ever be good enough for our daughter."

I pulled my hand away from Optimus' arm, my cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Dad cleared his throat. "Welcome, Tim. Have a seat."

Optimus – Tim – pulled a chair out for me before sitting down himself. I was never going to get used to that. Was it as shocking for the Autobots to call me Spitlet? No, I realized, but it might have come close when I insisted on being called Annabelle. And that particular name-change would have been shocking and hurtful.

"So why 'Tim'?" Optimus asked. He still had that deep, steadying voice even though he looked so young.

"Well," Dad drawled, "it was either that or Opie."

Optimus' smily was sly. "I thought maybe it was a sarcastic reference to 'Tiny Tim,' but given the alternative, I'll take the designation and be quiet."

"Wise man," Mom said, putting a glass of limeade each in front of both of us before sitting down with her own drink. "I still haven't told Annabelle some of the atrocious name combinations Will came up with for her before she was born."

Dad rolled his eyes, but he knew when he was beat and didn't argue with Mom. Taking his seat, he said, "For the record, only humans get away with calling you that, and only when you're in your holoform. Feel free to beat in their helms if any 'bots have enough cheek to call you anything other than Optimus Prime."

"I'll take that under consideration," Optimus – Tim – solemnly answered, but he was grinning. "And speaking of beating in helms…" He turned toward me. "We need to hammer out some details about Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Bumblebee, when you're ready."

"They were just being themselves."

Tim…I just couldn't call him that, even in my mind. Furst? Maybe I could handle that. Furst raised his hand to dismiss my protests. "They were inexcusably rude to you. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe in particular need something like brig time to understand something is a bad idea. It won't necessarily prevent them from being foolish again, but at least they'll know it's wrong."

"But I don't have experience with anything like this."

"We've already chosen the punishment, but since you're the one they offended, you get a say in the length. And…" Furst leaned closer conspiratorially. "Just between us, Prowl has requested that you keep Sunstreaker and Sideswipe in the brig for a week. He's going to be off-island for a few days and he'd take it as a personal favor if the twins were locked up while he's gone."

I chuckled. "Well in that case….Done, as long as I have visitation rights. But Prowl owes me."

Furst smirked. "And he knows it. As for Bumblebee…"

"Any recommendations?" I asked him.

Furst shook his head, looking almost wistful. "Mikaela has taken the proverbial wrench to him. Given the chance, he'd probably beg forgiveness on his knees."

I could just imagine poor Bumblebee begging with clasped hands and tearful optics. "That'd be cheating."

Furst smiled, nodding in agreement but still awaiting my decision.

"How about this? He can get The Daily Buzz reinstated when Sunny and Sides get out of the brig."

"It's your choice."

"Then that's what I want."

Furst leaned back in his chair, looking almost happy for once. "Good." Then he eyed Dad. "But I'm curious about something, William."

Dad took a sip of his drink. "What's that?"

"Did you have an uncharacteristic flash of interpersonal insight, or did someone forewarn you?"

Dad choked on his drink, and Furst smirked.

"Prowl?" Furst guessed.

Coughing a few times and thumping his chest, Dad managed to say, "Flash of inspiration."

"It is too late to lie, Will. Besides, using names to build bridges isn't your style."

"Umm…what?" Mom asked.

Furst sighed, leaning forward again, but it was a long moment before he spoke. When he did, his voice was soft. "As you are all aware, designations are important to us. Most of us have several nicknames as you call them, and the name we choose to use indicates many things. Rank. Allegiances. Personality. Functions. Friendships. Family. Very few of us publicly use the grander designations given us because we have other names, other ties." He looked up at Dad. "It has been a very long time since I have been anything other than Optimus Prime." Furst's eyes narrowed. "So I ask you again. Who told you?"

Dad sighed. "Actually it was 'Hide. He saw you coming down on the twins and guessed what you were thinking."

"And what was that?" Furst pressed.

"That you Autobots had become too presumptuous with us."

Raising an incredulous eyebrow, Furst said, "Ironhide used the word 'presumptuous?'"

"No," Dad admitted with a slight wince, knowing he'd been caught in a lie. "That was Ratchet, after you had him pull a copy of the twins' memories. I'd rather not repeat Ironhide's exact words in front of my wife and daughter, but he thought you'd probably try to create a respectful distance between us and the Autobots and maybe even…revoke our Autobot designations."

"So it was a conspiracy." Furst's expression gave away nothing. "This has Prowl's marks all over it. Am I wrong?"

"No," Dad sighed, resigned to telling the Autobot leader the truth. "He was the one who suggested that giving you a human name might work."

Furst drummed his fingers on the tabletop for a moment and then paused. "Work?"

"Stop you from cutting us off."

His bright blue eyes met each of ours in turn and then he sighed, looking down at the table. "Fifteen years of working by your side, and it appears that I underestimated you all. Forgive me."

"Meh," Mom said lightly, grinning. "It's what families do, Tim."

He looked up at the name and a genuine smile spread across his face. "Thank you."

…

When Furst stood to leave a little while later, I followed him to the back porch. "Just a second."

He turned, curiosity in his eyes. "Yes?"

"What's with the holoform?" I blurted out. I'd tried to think of a more polite way to say it, but it just kind of fell out of my mouth anyway.

He nodded to the patio chairs on the back deck and said, "Come sit with me." When we were both settled in, he gathered his thoughts for a moment. "For a long time, we regretted the compromise that forced us to lie to you, Annabelle. To this day, there are consequences of it that I still regret. But over time, we have realized it was a blessing in disguise, as Mrs. Epps termed it. Six years ago, I held the newborn Daniel Robert Epps in the palm of my hand. Can you honestly imagine placing an infant not five hours old in the hands of that?"

He gestured toward his alt-form, and while I knew Optimus – knew he would die himself before harming a human – I couldn't imagine blithely handing over a newborn to him in his robot form. It was just something…instinctive.

"In our human holoforms," he continued, "we all held him – me, Chromia, Ironhide, Arcee, Jolt, even Prowl. All of us. Annabelle, because we could act only human around you, it forced us to become more human. We learned human gestures and facial expressions. We learned to play football and video games and to celebrate the things we cherish. And it has allowed us to appreciate and interact better with the humans beyond NEST."

"But what does that have to do with…?" I gestured in the direction of his made-over holoform.

"My point is that we have learned to bridge divides that, when we first arrived on Earth, would have been insurmountable. There are, of course, some divides that even a human holoform will not allow us to bridge, but age is not one of them. We have taken much from you, including social opportunities. That is one of the consequences I still regret."

Completely incredulous, I asked, "So…you're asking me out?"

He chuckled. "No. You clearly indicated that a date with any Autobot would be a last resort. But you also made your preference clear. I wanted you to understand that, should the fate of the world ever rest on you going to a social event with an alien machine, I would not subject you to a daddy-daughter date."

Okaaay. "Aren't the others going to give you a hard time about…the sudden change?"

"I won't use this format for my holoform around them."

Oh. I got it now. "You were just showing me my options."

He nodded. "Giving you a choice, yes."

"Gotcha. It's very sweet of you, Optimus. Tim. Thank you." Even though I would never, ever, ever be asking him out, it was very thoughtful.

His eyes sparkled as he rose to his feet to leave. "You're welcome."