Author's Note: This chapter references the fic "Chat" (also found on this profile).

At the cabin, Arcee insisted that I take some ibuprofen, and then I took a cool shower while she ran to get the ice. When I went to dry off, though, I could already feel the deep sting of a bad sunburn. Turning to get a good view of my back in the mirror, I could see I was already headed toward lobster-red.

Arcee must have flown over the ranch roads because she was already back by the time I was dressed in shorts and a loose t-shirt. "Lay down on the couch," she ordered, "face down."

As soon as I did, she perched next to me, lifting the hem of my shirt halfway up my back, and I felt something cold drip on my bare skin. "We'll start with the aloe gel and then we'll apply the ice pack for a while. If anything is too intense or hurts, let me know."

"Okay," I muttered.

She worked the gel in with quick, light strokes and then I hissed as she laid the cold compress between my shoulder blades.

"Too much?"

"Not really. Just a little bit of a shock, you know?"

"Not really," she echoed, "but let me know if it does get to be too much."

"Where's 'Bee?"

"He ran to check on the Prime as soon as I got here. Your mom will probably send him back."

I chuckled at the mental image. "Yeah, probably." And speaking of… If Dad wouldn't talk about it, maybe I could weasel the truth out of her directly. "So…you and 'Bee?"

"Yes," she answered, sounding amused, "me and 'Bee."

"Are you…like Chromia and Ironhide? Married or whatever?"

"No," she answered matter-of-factly. "In human terms, we're dating."

"Long-distance relationship?" Or maybe they're doing some 'chatting' online.

R.C. chuckled as she moved the ice to my other shoulder blade. "Only to a human. We are on the same planet after all, and we see each other a couple of times a year, usually. Last year was the exception, of course. I only saw him over Thanksgiving."

I pursed my lips, trying to figure out how to delicately say this and finally gave up and went for being blunt. "But you guys 'chat' when you get together, don't you."

"If I were human – or if you were younger – I'd say that was none of your business."

"But…?"

Sounding resigned, she said, "But you're Firebrand now, so…what do you want to know?"

I sighed. "I guess it's just kind of weird. I never suspected you would even want someone much less choose someone like Bumblebee."

"And just what's wrong with Bumblebee?"

I bit my lip, realizing I'd just dissed her boyfriend. "Nothing. He's fun and sweet. It's just…he's…not the biggest mech around."

She snorted. "You think I should just chase after the yummiest eye-candy?"

"No," I mumbled, blushing and wishing I hadn't brought it up.

"Bumblebee is my best friend," she said softly. "We've been friends since the first shot fired in the War. And you've seen him on the proving grounds." I could hear the smile in her voice. "He definitely is eye candy."

I chuckled, relieved I hadn't really ticked her off. "So you're more like friends with benefits?"

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose. But that doesn't quite…" She shifted on the couch, settling in. "Okay, backing up…You remember I said once that femmes often don't fare well in the Decepticon ranks?"

Okay…change of subject, but she'd probably make all the pieces fit eventually. "Yeah. Because they consider you weak, right?"

"Yes. But not weak in the frame – there are lots of 'bots smaller than your average femme. There's a bug, I guess you'd call it, in the femme formatting. Under the right circumstances it can make spark energy accumulate over time. The only way to release the energy is through interfacing, what you know as 'chatting.' If the energy buildup gets severe enough, it can cause physical pain and eventually a breach in the spark chamber."

"Wow!"

"Yeah, and I've got a pretty good build up of spark energy. So physically, I have to take a mate every so often. For uncommitted femmes like me, that's usually the equivalent of every thousand years or so."

"But you meet the Witwickys here every summer." Except last summer because Dad and Arcee were away on a mission.

R.C. chuckled mirthlessly. "Before I arrived on Earth, I hadn't interfaced for the equivalent of eight thousand years, which was almost as long as Ironhide and Chromia. But unlike those two, I don't have the luxury of spending years on the same base with my mate. I can't use up that much energy in one interface, so we've been burning it off whenever we can."

I thought about that for a second, about how much trouble she went through to be with Bumblebee when she had a whole base full of mechs to choose from. "You must really love him."

She barked out a laugh. "Whatever 'love' is supposed to mean – that word is as squishy as your frame is. But if you mean we're intimate, it's very different for us than for humans."

"You're not going to give me a 'birds and the bees' lecture, are you?"

"No," she answered more seriously. "I'll spare you the nuts and bolts, but you did ask, Firebrand."

I grimaced even though she couldn't see it from where she was sitting.

R.C. moved the ice to my lower back. "I've heard our sparks compared to the human concept of a soul. When we interface, we share sparks. There's a physical aspect, but…I guess you could call it a spiritual intimacy, too, if that doesn't sound too corny."

They shared their souls? "It doesn't sound corny at all." And then, because I couldn't even begin to imagine it, I asked, "What's that like, the spiritual aspect?"

She sighed, but it was a happy sound. "Incredible. Terrifying. When it's with someone who's not a good match for your spark, it can really mess with you, since you rub off on each other. But when it's with someone who's a good match…" Again, that little happy sigh. "The line between selves is blurred – you become two halves of a whole. You experience the spark, the soul, of your mate firsthand. You see each other truly, your flaws and strengths, your fears and sureties. And you can see yourself reflected back in your mate's mind. To know your mate's spark is to know your own a little better, too."

Ironhide's words about Brian came back to me. He doesn't see your soul, Annabelle. The thought saddened me and made me a little jealous. I would never know anyone else the way Arcee knew Bumblebee.

When she spoke again, R.C. sounded sad. "So that's why femmes don't do well in the Decepticon ranks. They see us as emotionally and physically needy, and to leave yourself vulnerable to another by sharing sparks is considered weak and stupid. It's rumored that Megatron has never accepted the attentions of a femme because he didn't want to expose his spark like that. And he doesn't trust bonded mates. Married couples, to you. Their loyalty will always be to each other first and the cause second. That and if your mate gets captured by the enemy…"

"Yeah, I can kind of see that. But that's Decepticon thinking."

"It's the thinking of a faction at war," she answered, an edge of frustration to her tone. "Look at all the problems my energy buildup has caused. I have to go on leave for two full weeks, inconvenience NEST, inconvenience your entire family, inconvenience the human Prime and his family, and impose on the kindness of my best friend."

Despite myself, I couldn't help interjecting, "I doubt Bumblebee's suffering too much."

"That's not the point. The point is that, for once, the 'cons are right but my fellow Autobots are just more forgiving."

"No," I indignantly said. "You need to chat or whatever it's called, and that's a simple fact. The Decepticons interpret that one way. The Autobots…how do they interpret it?" I twisted to look at her over my shoulder.

She was staring down at her hands resting in her lap. "Optimus himself had a bond-mate - my sister Elita One - until she was extinguished."

Wait - what?

"Ironhide is one of his right-hand mechs. They…they see femmes as capable creatures and any weakness our format causes is just part of who we are. Any Autobot mech who didn't welcome the attentions of a femme would be seen as pretty crazy."

Deciding to stay focused on the bigger question, I asked, "So why do you interpret…?"

She let her breath out in a whoosh and glared at me. "Because I don't like it. I don't like needing a mech that way. I don't like being dependent. I want to be the one who others can rely on, not the one who needs special treatment."

A knock at the door startled me and, sounding defeated, R.C. called out, "Come in, Cam."

I reflexively wanted to pull my shirt down to cover my back, but then I remembered that the cute, burly college guy at the door was really a robot and I shoved the instinct aside. Besides, the ice felt really good on that burn.

I could hear his footsteps crossing the living room toward us, and his cell-phone ringtone sang, "Oooh, the way you shine/Miss Independent…"

I glanced back to see her reaction. R.C. blushed – blushed – as she threw him a glare, but it quickly melted into a grudgingly affectionate smile. "Cam Romero, what am I going to do with you?" With all her talk about sparks, I suddenly realized that his comment was kind of explicit.

He shrugged as he sat down in the threadbare recliner where I could easily see him, grinning from ear to ear. I rested my chin on my hands again, shaking my head at him.

Cam's grin turned wicked. "you got spark," "brighter than the sun," "baby, you're a firework…like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow," "system overload..."

"Primus!" R.C. half-gasped, half-giggled as she hurled the ice pack at Cam. "Not in front of the youngling!"

Easily catching it, he winked at me and then tossed it back. Again his cell phone speakers played a series of song clips – "we all need somebody to lean on," "don't look back," "no regrets," "you're amazing just the way you are."

I glanced back at her again. R.C. rolled her eyes and, in an aside to me, said, "This is why I chose 'Bee, you know. He lets me keep a little dignity."

He huffed, his eyes distant, and she corrected, "Alright, fine, he foists dignity on me any time he thinks he can get away with it. He practically stuffs every chink in my armor with it."

His cell phone cheerfully sang, "R-E-S-P-E-C-T."

Their banter made me smile a little bit, but it also made a Brian-shaped bruise on my heart ache. I wished I had someone to be scandalous with. I did my best to push the feeling aside. "So do you think you'll ever…get married or whatever? Become permanent mates?"

Bumblebee's face was instantly serious and he looked down, avoiding my gaze.

"Cybertronian courtships take a while," R.C. eventually murmured. "Usually a half a century at the least before they form a bond."

"But…?" They were already mates, kinda. From their alt-form cuddling to R.C.'s little happy-sighs, it was clear she liked him a lot, and I couldn't imagine 'Bee not feeling the same. "You guys make a great couple. What else…?"

"We were never meant to be, baby, we just happen…"

"He's acting out of pity," R.C. explained, just a hint of bitterness in her voice. "It wouldn't be fair to talk about things like that right now. We're friends – the very best kind – and that's good enough for me."

"The kind who really would do anything for each other," I realized.

"Exactly."

R.C. was accepting charity – accepting pity – from somebody, and I could only guess how hard that would be for her of all people. I could kind of understand where she was coming from with choosing 'Bee, though. If anyone could do someone a favor and have it not be condescending, it would be him.

"Besides," R.C. added, sounding a little more like herself, "that kind of decision is too big of a deal to rush. I'm not in any hurry."

Cam looked up and gave her a wistful smile.

I decided it wouldn't be helpful to point out that we humans were in a bit of a hurry. If she spent half a century dating 'Bee, Mom probably wouldn't be alive to see it if they tied the knot. Same thing with Samuel.

"How would you decide?" I twisted to look at R.C. again. "How do you know you're ready for something like that?"

Her eyes sparkled with a knowing light, and it was obvious she knew my question wasn't an idle one. I'd never talked to anyone about what happened the night Brian broke up with me, how my first thought wasn't if I wanted him but if I was ready. But Arcee was a millennia-old femme; she probably guessed long ago. "How indeed." Looking up at Cam, she asked, "What do you think?"

His eyes were on her when the cell phone's speakers sang, "…don't worry…even when the sky is falling down," followed by a Jamaican singing, "who's gonna have your back when it's all done?"

"Don't trust someone with your heart if you wouldn't trust him to have your back?" I translated with a little smile. That was Autobot relationship advice if I ever heard it.

He briskly nodded, and R.C. shifted the ice on my back again. "Trust is a big part of it," she admitted. "But there also has to be at least some chemistry, as you humans put it. Not the whole swooning over each other bit – though I suppose that works for some people – but where you can actually envision wanting no one but him for the rest of your existence."

Huh. I hadn't even thought about that with Brian. I mean, we'd been so into each other that I hadn't looked at it long-term like that. "That's for marriage or bonding or whatever, but what about those other mates?" And then I realized I was bringing up past boyfriends in front of 'Bee and blushed. "Never mind."

Fortunately, he didn't seem upset. In fact, he lifted his hand, gesturing to R.C. to continue.

"Are you asking for me or for yourself?" R.C. quietly said. "Because this is where you and I become very alien to each other. You have a remarkable gift that we lack."

My brow creased in confusion and I twisted again to look at her.

"Interfacing is a very intimate act, but it isn't a reproductive one. I don't have the ability you do, Annabelle," she explained, her eyes grave. "No Cybertronian does. We can't reproduce on our own – we need the All Spark for that. And it is impossible for us to create new life without also creating bonds in the process. Sometimes we would create brothers or sisters precisely so that a bond would be created. I could never casually handle that ability. To us, it's a sacred thing and shouldn't be trifled with."

I frowned thoughtfully, laying flat again. "So kiss all I want but don't lose my virginity until I'm married?"

She huffed a chuckle. "Since I'm not human, I'll leave that for you to decide. But like I said, your species has a remarkable gift in being able to create and carry life – one we envy, to be honest." She paused for a second. "Sorry – I'm probably overstepping my bounds here. Our species is much more frank about such things than yours, so if I've offended you, I apologize. You asked for my opinion, and I gave it, but ultimately, this choice is yours, of course."

I glanced at 'Bee, and his eyes were distant, probably messaging her. After a second, R.C. added, "As for when I knew I was ready with the other mates, I made a lot of mistakes that way. It only took a couple of mates before I realized that what I saw on the surface of a mech wasn't what was in his spark. Still, I went after the biggest 'bot, the smartest one, the funniest one, the most mysterious one – always taking something from him but never able to predict what."

"Taking?" I interrupted. She almost made it sound like she was keeping trophies.

She moved the ice again, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Do you think you could share your soul with someone and not have him influence you?"

"Oh."

"I've given up on predicting what trait of his would influence me and have just gone for the all-around highest-quality mechs I can find now. I try to see the very worst characteristic and ask myself if I could live with it – because I might have to for hundreds of years."

It didn't sound like bad advice, though. "Go in with eyes wide open," I translated.

"Yes. The one who was a real wake-up call for me was a quiet, introspective mech. I expected his spark would lend to mine some of his unflappable calm. However, he was jealous and possessive, and that's what I took from him. Later, it was no surprise that he joined the Decepticons at the very beginning of the War. For a few hundred years, though, I was unbearable." She paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, it was with a playful grumble. "And then there was that mech – that bright yellow mech with racing stripes – and his damnably loyal spark."

'Bee grinned and nodded his head, taking a bow.

"One interface with him and I found myself completely and totally hooked, like it or not. Because I think any femme would take loyalty in the exchange. And not just any loyalty. His is the 'I'd die for you and not ask anything in return just because I think you're that awesome' kind of loyalty. Suddenly I'm seeing the whole universe that way. Punk."

I couldn't help but chuckle at her indignant tone, easily imagining her fighting a smile the entire time.

Cam suddenly disappeared, and Bumblebee's alt-form peeled out in the front yard.

"Something wrong?" I asked, foreboding filling me. It vaguely reminded me of Sunstreaker being in such a hurry on the day Ironhide got shot with Shockwave's radioactive pellets.

"Maybe," R.C. answered, moving the ice pack to a different spot on my back. "BINDS just picked up what look like a couple of inbound cometary forms."

"What?" It was Greek to me.

"More Cybertronians are landing on Earth. Two of them, but we're not sure if they're Autobot or Decepticon. Prowl arrived here with a damaged communication array - if we can help it, we're not going to shoot anybody out of the sky until we know who they are. Your dad is going to have to report to Edwards Air Force Base."

"That sucks. You and 'Bee haven't even had a full day together yet."

"Duty calls," she said, sounding indifferent. "We missed our vacation entirely last year - at least we had one day." Rising to her feet, she went to the kitchen and started putting dishes away. Leaving the place as clean as we found it, probably.

When 'Bee came back half an hour later, he had everybody else with him. I sat up, tipping the now-warm ice pack onto the couch as they filed through the door, and I asked Dad, "Do we really have to go? All of us?"

He glanced up from his phone. "I'm afraid so, sweetheart."

"But we just got here."

"That's just the way it goes sometimes," Mom said as she headed to the bedroom to pack.

"But we'll just be sitting around at the base. We'd be as safe here as there, and there's probably more to do here."

"Hm," Mr. Witwicky said.

Dad looked over at him, and the human Prime tilted his head, considering. "She has a point. If these are Decepticons, a remote location like this is less of a target. Where are the cometary forms making landfall?"

"Initial intel says West Virginia," Dad answered. "The rest of the DC Autobot contingent is moving to intercept them."

"If they're after Sam, we're already on the other side of the continent and this is the last place they'd look," Mrs. Witwicky pointed out. "We're kind of accidentally in a safe house already."

"Bumblebee should stay if you do, Samuel, to keep you hidden from their spark scanners," R.C. said.

Bumblebee's cell phone quoted, "You can do that...just as easily as I can."

She crossed her arms defiantly. "True, but you already slagged yourself once trying to hunt down a newly arrived 'Con. You deserve to sit this one out."

Cam ducked his head. "You're never going to forgive me for that, are you."

She smirked at him. "Nope."

"You'd rather stay?" Dad asked Mr. Witwicky.

"I think Optimus would rather I did. Message him and see."

Dad nodded and started texting, and Samuel continued, "I don't like the idea of just hiding out here, but…" His gaze darted to Bumblebee. "We've come all this way. If they turn out to be Autobots, we would have lost all that time for nothing. And if they're Decepticons, Trailbreaker and the others can handle it just as well with or without us, since they outnumber the new mechs two-to-one. Besides, we're at least two hours away from being able to help, and that's if we break out Wheeljack's Moonshine. And Optimus and a contingent from Diego Garcia will be backing them up as soon as they can get there."

Dad looked up from his phone. "If the Diego Garcia contingent also uses the high grade fuel, then they'd get there almost as quickly as we could, since we'd have to drive all the way to Edwards to catch a flight." His phone chimed and he read the text. "Optimus wants you to stay put, Sam, but I still have to report to Edwards."

"I'll transport you," R.C. volunteered.

"Alright, but only on the condition that you get your aft back up here ASAP," Dad said to her. "I don't like leaving the human Prime so exposed when there are potential hostiles on the loose."

R.C. moved toward the door. "It'd be me and 'Bee against two Decepticons. They'd be so outmatched you couldn't even call it a fair fight. And that's assuming the worst. For all we know, Trailbeaker's going to be meeting up with two more Autobot femmes."

Dad made a face and muttered, "Decepticons would be less trouble."

R.C. grinned as she headed out into the yard.

Mom returned to the living room with Dad's knapsack. It was a small house, so she must have overheard. He took it from her hands, stole a quick kiss, and followed R.C. outside.