Author's Note: My fic Introductions: Theresa Epps could be considered a companion to this chapter. If you haven't already, you could read it before or after this chapter and everything will make sense either way. Enjoy! :)

The second school day after the break up was no better than the first. I sat alone at lunch while Brian laughed and talked with Bing and Michelle two tables over. Pure stubbornness kept me from crying, and it was proof (as if any was needed) that I was my father's daughter when I didn't shed a single tear. Even when Heather made a point of ignoring me when we were supposed to work in the same group together in English, I just rolled my eyes at her and started working on the assignment on my own.

Mom picked me up like usual, but her greeting was subdued. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey." I closed the door and stared blankly out the window while we drove away. We rode in silence until Mom turned us down the driveway. "If you don't want to talk to him right now, I can ask him to leave. I'm sure he'll understand."

I lifted my head to ask her what she meant and noticed the semi parked in front of the house. My heart fell to my shoes, but I just murmured, "Naw, it's okay." This was Optimus, after all. He probably just came because he had an assignment for Rambo's daughter.

As we got closer, I noticed that the figure sitting on the steps of the front porch was Optimus' younger holoform and I was really tempted to take my mom up on her offer. But it would be just plain rude to not at least say hi to…him. I halfheartedly snorted when I thought of his human designation. Tim Furst – my dad really did come up with the craziest names.

Mom parked in front of the garage so we could greet Optimus…Tim…Furst. "Hey," I said to him as I climbed out of the car.

"Annabelle," he solemnly answered. Nodding to Mom, he added, "Sarah."

"Hi, Tim! Care to come in?"

"Actually," he turned his brilliant blue eyes on me, "I was hoping you would go for a walk with me, Annabelle."

I gaped like a fish out of water, but Mom came to my rescue. "As long as you'll finish your homework after dinner, I don't see any reason why not."

Recovering a little, I said, "Sure."

Optim…Furst offered me his arm, and I took it, still pretty tongue-tied. We walked together around the house and down toward the beach. "I spoke with Sam last night," he announced. "My brother reminded me of a few points I neglected to discuss with you yesterday evening."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. You told your father that it was coincidence that you were an Autobot, that you just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"Ironhide," I muttered, realizing he must have tattled on me.

Furst chuckled. "Yes. No one can gossip as quickly or efficiently as Autobots, or so your mother tells me."

Yeah, info dumps would help with that.

"As I was saying, your father replied that Sam felt otherwise. I wanted you to know that he was only half right."

I glanced up at him curiously, and he gave me a sidelong smile. "I, too, feel that it is your fate to be one of us, Firebrand. Annabelle."

His words warmed my heart, even as it broke a little. "You wouldn't even know me if my last name wasn't Lennox."

"I would never have known Sam if his last name wasn't Witwicky."

I blinked for a second or two, trying to wrap my head around it. I'd grown up with Sam and Optimus being brothers, so the idea that there was a time when they weren't was kinda hard to grasp. And then I realized that technically the guy beside me was an alien from outer space and it was a longshot for him to be on my planet, nevermind in my life.

"Fate provides the opportunity; we provide the proof of that trust."

Again looking up at him, I ventured, "Joe Marshall?"

He stopped under the shade of a palm and turned to face me. "Wheeljack's lab," he corrected. "You saved Ironhide's life that day. And the last time that someone had the circuits to hug Ratchet was long before your were born.

"A bet between Sunny and Sides?" I guessed.

"There's a reason no one has dared since," he said, confirming my guess. "What's the saying? 'Heaven protects fools and children?'"

I smirked up at him. "And which one am I?"

His eyes sparkled with sly humor. "Inordinately lucky," he diplomatically answered. "My point is that you fulfill not just a useful role, but a unique one. We would be lessened by your absence."

Embarrassment left me flustered. "Thank you."

"I also wanted to clear up one other issue. I agree with you that it was better for Ironhide and the femmes to control their tempers regarding Brian, but only because we value life so highly – not because your honor is worth so little."

This time I actually blushed.

"Were the circumstances different, were he a Cybertronian…"

"The whole tribe would take turns beating him up. I get it, I get it."

"...they would have to get in line behind me, and there wouldn't be much left of him when I was done."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise at that.

"You are one of my…family. You were dear to us – to me – before you even learned to walk. And I protect my Autobots. Do you understand?"

Amity, that's what my mom called it. The love the Autobots had for each other – their willingness to die for each other and for us mere mortals. It had nothing to do with smooching and everything to do with that line from the Bible or wherever the NEST chaplains got it. Optimus Prime loved all his Autobots so much that he'd die for them. And they would for him. It was one thing to know that in the abstract. It was quite another to look into the fierce fire of the Prime's optics (even if he was looking through the eyes of Tim Furst at the moment) and know that he would kill for me if his own code of honor didn't forbid it.

I swallowed hard. "I understand."

He nodded brusquely. "Good."

…

Aaron Hyde was worse than my own mother at dinner that night. "Prowl said Optimus paid you a visit, Firebrand."

"Yeah," I said, suddenly going into junior-ambassador mode and trying to anticipate where he would go with his line of questioning.

"What did you two do?" Hyde pressed, trying to sound casual. Mia and R.C. were having a spirited conversation that somehow just screamed that they were really eavesdropping. (Only an alien robot could pull that off.)

I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Went for a walk. And talked."

"About what?" His voice turned almost ominous somehow, and I threw him a nervous glance. He had set his fork down and was leaning closer, peering at me.

"Honor and stuff."

That clearly caught him by surprise. "Honor?"

"Uh-huh."

He and Mia shared a Look that gave away both the fact that she was eavesdropping and that she was as surprised as Hyde. "As in…avenging wrongs done to you?"

"As in he'd be first in line, if the circumstances were different."

"He said that?" R.C. squealed in excitement.

Confused, I looked to each of them in turn. "Yeah…?"

R.C. gave her sister a high-five.

"It's about time someone did something to those twins," Mia said decisively. "They can't mock our little Firebrand and get away with it."

"Not on my watch," Hyde rumbled. "I'm glad Prime has finally seen the light."

Mom smothered a smile with her hand, but Dad didn't bother, tipping back his chair and openly grinning.

"Um…Huh?"

"Revenge," Hyde explained, his eyes glowing with an unholy light. "When it comes to defending your honor, Brian may be off limits, but Sunstreaker and Sideswipe…"

"…are long overdue for a well-executed prank," Dad finished for him.

I looked to Mom for help, but she just chuckled and shook her head.

"It'll be good for you," Mia promised. "Nothing distracts from a bad mood like beating the slag out of somebody. So what are you going to do to them?"

Sweet Cyberton, what had I gotten myself into?

…

Dad hosted a huge football game and picnic on the Saturday over Memorial Day weekend. It was a big deal – so much so that Wheeljack was forbidden from experimenting with anything for a full week prior, just to make sure he wasn't stuck in med bay with Ratchet during the game. This was done to keep the teams even and to spare Wheeljack from Ratchet's significant wrath at missing out on such an important event.

I was setting out the last of the field markers for the football game when a deep, familiar voice behind me said, "Your father thought you would appreciate this."

The respectably mature holoform of Optimus Prime stood a few feet away, offering me a tall glass of lemonade. We – Mom, Dad, and I – had decided to let him get away with using the name of Optimus as long as the others were around. His human designation was just for among us. I stepped closer, accepting the glass. "Thank you." In a voice so low it was almost a whisper, I added, "I need to talk with Tim when he has a moment, though."

He studied me for a moment, no doubt wondering what I wanted to say to his younger form that I couldn't say to his normal human face. "Now?"

"Yes, if possible."

Optimus pursed his lips and looked over the back yard where everyone was still milling about and talking. The football game wouldn't get started for at least another half hour, but sound would carry too well to alien audios for us to have a conversation out here.

"Go talk to Mom and then meet me in the house."

Clearly displeased, Optimus nodded once and then went over to the buffet table where Mom and Mrs. Epps stood talking. I brought the lemonade inside, listening to the voicemails on my cell phone as I went so no one would delay me. As planned, I started the washing machine to provide some white noise and then I nervously waited in the living room for Optimus.

I heard footfalls in the hallway and the younger holoform I'd come to think of as Tim Furst stepped into the room.

I moved closer and, whispering again, said, "Ironhide tells me it's a matter of honor that I get back at Sunny and Sides."

He frowned and whispered in answer, "I highly recommend that you do not pursue this course of action."

I grinned. "I thought I was talking to Furst, not the Prime."

His jaw clenched. "It doesn't matter who is speaking, it would be unwise for you to prank the twins. You cannot beat them at their own game – they literally have a thousand times more experience at it."

I gave him an innocent smile. "I don't intend to. I'm going to beat them at my game. The pieces are in place and the players are lining up. Can I count you in?"

"I can't prank my own warriors."

I stole his white hat, putting it on my own head. "Optimus can't, but Tim can."

He pondered that for a moment and I almost worried that he would back out. I couldn't set this up without him, and I really didn't want to get into trouble with him if he disapproved of my plan.

He chuckled softly, snatching his hat back and twirling it in his hands. "So long as the Prime remains squeaky-clean, I'm in. What do you need me to do?"

"Accept the invitation Mrs. Epps will give you after the football game. You'll find out more later."

Putting his hat back on, Furst nodded once and flickered out of existence, only to be replaced by Prime. "Firebrand?" he asked in a normal speaking tone. "Spitfire asked me to bring out more ice. Do you have any idea where it is?"

I allowed myself one last evil grin before I went back to being the helpful-if-sometimes-snarky teenager. "Sure. It's in the deep freeze."

The invitation from Mrs. Epps was to a formal dinner for the NEST senior officers on Sunday evening. Optimus, Prowl, Ironhide, and Ratchet all agreed to come, while Wheeljack would remain behind to run the base. Dad and Mom were invited, too, and so I got to tag along.

In reality, it was the first meeting of the "Humiliate Sunstreaker and Sideswipe Coalition." After consulting Prowl, we came to the conclusion that, like the perfect crime, the perfect prank is one in which the victims don't even realize they've been targeted. No perpetrators equals no retaliation. Our small band of conspirators also agreed that, to this end, we could leave no paper trail. All communications would have to be face-to-face and verbal.

Optimus was concerned about the fact that all this would be happening during finals week, so he added the stipulation that if I didn't get at least as good grades on my finals as I was already pulling in my classes, he'd tell Sunstreaker and Sideswipe that I set them up. If that isn't incentive to study hard, I don't know what is!

Two days after our first powwow, Dad came home from work and announced his presence by hollering, "Hey Annabelle, I brought your beau home."

"DAD!" I whined, coming downstairs from my bedroom. "For the love of plasma cannons, he's an alien robot, and the Prime at that."

Optimus' younger hologram Tim Furst was blushing in the doorway and I heard a smack and Dad exclaim "Ow!" in the kitchen. "Thank you, Spitfire," Furst rumbled.

"That's Sarah to you," Mom said, coming in from the kitchen and catching Furst in a quick, maternal hug. He froze in surprise at the gesture, but if Mom noticed, she ignored it and wandered to my side. "Hey, Tim! How's it going?"

"Very well, actually," he said, recovering. "I cannot stay for long, but I wanted to report to our cunning leader."

I squealed and Mom laughed as Dad drew the curtains and switched off the lights. Furst disappeared, and suddenly we were standing in the hall outside Prowl's and Optimus' offices. A hologram, I realized. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe lounged outside Prowl's door, obviously awaiting punishment for something they'd done. (How much trouble could those guys get into, anyway? They'd only been out of the brig for a couple of days, for crying out loud!) Optimus and Epps were walking down the hall toward us. "I sympathize with your predicament," the Autobot was saying, "but there is little I can do. Even the strongest and bravest of my Autobots would hesitate at a mission like that."

At the words 'strongest and bravest,' Sunny and Sides both perked up and looked at Prime.

"Couldn't you at least ask for volunteers?" Epps pleaded. "Or let me?"

"I am not sure it would be appropriate."

"I'm begging you, Prime. I'm dead if this doesn't happen."

"We can help," Sideswipe said.

Optimus looked up and studied the twins for a good, long moment. "Are you certain? This is no light undertaking."

Sunstreaker squared his shoulders. "We can handle anything."

"If it's two against one, they probably could pull it off," Epps said hesitantly. "If we get them some additional training."

Sunstreaker looked positively insulted at that.

"It would solve two problems with a single solution," Prime observed.

Right on cue, Prowl opened his door. "Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, in my office, now."

"Wait!" Epps said, looking desperate. "You can't punish them right now! Optimus has an assignment for them."

The twins grinned at each other.

Prowl looked askance at Optimus, but Prime just nodded. "They have volunteered to assist Epps with his predicament. Perhaps we can substitute community service for confinement this time?"

Prowl turned his cold optics on Epps. "And you've already cleared it on your end?"

Epps grimaced. "Not yet. Let me call my superior officer." He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. The twins shared a fist bump and Prowl glowered at them.

"Hey honey," Epps began. "Great news! I found a sitter for Friday while Annabelle and the boys are at school! We can still go on our anniversary getaway!"

The twins' faces were frozen in matching expressions of shock. Giggling hysterically, I fell against my mom's shoulder. She was shaking with laughter, too.

"Uh huh!" the holographic Epps continued. "Sideswipe and Sunstreaker." There was a pause, and even in the hologram, I could hear that Theresa Epps had raised her voice. "But there will be two of them," Epps protested. "And Sarah Lennox can still help them out with text messages even if she is too sick with the swine flu to babysit. And it'll only be while Annabelle's taking her final." Another pause while Theresa yelled at Epps. "Okay, I'll tell them. Bye, honey." He snapped his phone shut. "She says you two are life-savers and that if anything happens to little Akeela while she's in your care, she and Sarah Lennox will scrap you both and rebuild you as Smart Cars that'll look up to Skids and Mudflap. And she specifically told me to warn you that we have NannyWeb cameras and she will know."

Sideswipe actually looked ill at the threat.

I barely noticed when the hologram ended, I was laughing so hard. Furst flickered back into the room, grinning at my mom and me. "Annabelle Lennox," he formally declared. "I'm pleased to report Phase I is complete."

Phase II was easy. Mom was faking the swine flu and so Ratchet made twice-daily visits to ensure she was 'recovering' well and that Dad and I weren't carriers. Mr. and Mrs. Epps packed their bags for their three-day, two-night leave of absence. I spent several hours at their house with their children – six-year-old Daniel, four-year-old Graham, and eighteen-month-old Akeela – so they would be comfortable with me at their house while their parents were gone. R.C. kept me company and provided rides to and from the Epps' house.

Phase III was a bit trickier. It was after 23:00 hours on Thursday when we heard the sound of a motorcycle approaching. I skipped to the back porch in time to see Arcee pull around to the yard. Ratchet, who was still there after his house-call for my supposedly ill and bedridden mother, transformed and began working on the femme. The visual was simple enough to tweak, but I guess the audio took a little more effort. Despite his complaining about how long it was taking, Ratchet was able to adjust Arcee's holoform to our satisfaction in less than an hour and a half.

"Wadda ya fink?" Arcee asked, showing off her twenty-seven-inch-tall, coffee-skinned, pajama-clad holoform.

"A perfect imitation," Dad agreed. "Even Theresa wouldn't be able to tell you and Akeela apart."

In her cherubic little soprano, Arcee let out an adorably evil, "Muahahaha."

I sniggered and Ratchet deadpanned, "That might give you away."

Ratchet drove us over to the Epps' house, Arcee following us – without her holoform rider. She parked in a wild tangle of trees and underbrush, and Dad and Epps helped hide her with a camouflage tarp and netting. Akeela-Arcee flickered into existence by the front of Ratchet's alt-form and I scooped her up in my arms. The real Akeela was already asleep in her car-carrier and she didn't as much as blink when Mrs. Epps handed Akeela off to my mom. Theresa looked over Arcee critically and Arcee brushed her cheek, signing "Mommy" with her pudgy little fingers. Mrs. Epps shook her head. "Amazing. Nothing short of amazing." Then she played with a wild curl in the middle of the girl's forehead. "This is the only difference."

"And it was deliberate," Mom assured her with a wink.

Giving Akeela a soft kiss, Mrs. Epps whispered, "Be good for Sarah, baby girl." Then Theresa took Arcee in her arms and tweaked her nose. "And you, baby 'bot, be very, very bad."