Author's Note: Happy April Fools from the Botosphere!

Christmas was always busy at our house. The Autobots enjoyed a good party as much as the next sentient, and while my parents had taught me the Christmas story, we weren't too hung up on the religious trappings.

Usually Mom loved it, and not in the shopping-crazed, buy-all-the-things way that I'd seen in movies or commercials. In fact, she often had to rein the Autobots in from doing just that. No, she loved the way traditions brought people together and made them family, no matter what planet they came from.

She wasn't as into it this year, though. We couldn't really do huge strings of Christmas lights, but we always had a pretty little electric candle in the window that went up on Black Friday. We didn't get it out until a week after Thanksgiving. We didn't get the Christmas tree up until about halfway through December. I heard her say to Dad that Christmas cards were a bust, so if he wanted to send holiday greetings to anyone, he'd better put together a digital version and email it out.

I knew something was really wrong when she said we would do graham cracker gingerbread houses this year instead of the real kind. After school the next day, I steeled my courage yet again and said, "Mom, we need to talk."

"Okay." She pocketed her cell phone and gave me her undivided attention. "What's up?"

"Have you been in to see Dr. Sarkisian yet?"

"Oh, honey, she has more important things to do than to hold my hand through a few nightmares."

"Mom…"

She half-smiled at me and shook her head. "Really, Annabelle, I'm fine."

"Graham cracker gingerbread houses? That doesn't seem like 'fine.' You went through everything I did, Mom. If I need counseling, so do you."

She rolled her eyes and wouldn't meet my gaze. "Your dad has been helping me. I mean, he's not an actual doctor, but he's got enough of a background to know the right things to say and the right questions to ask."

"Mom." I waited until she looked at me. "Have you told him everything, though? The angry parts? The parts that would hurt him to know?"

She blinked away tears and shook her head again. "When did you become all grown-up?"

"Sometime since last summer," I answered with my own half-smile.

"I can see that."

"So?"

"All right, fine. I'll call her and make an appointment after the holidays."

"Would you let me wait that long?"

She gave me an affectionate glare, something only a mom could pull off, and I defiantly crossed my arms.

When she crossed her arms right back, I wordlessly fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed Dr. Sarkisian. Once it was ringing, I handed the phone to her, and while she still wasn't happy, she took it and left a message requesting an appointment when it went to voicemail.

...

Mom worked in three appointments before Christmas, and I honestly think it helped.

By the time the Witwickys arrived on Diego Garcia for the holidays, she was more her old self. The Christmas cards were still virtual and delivered via email, but we did have real gingerbread cookies for our Christmas Eve party.

Since most of the seating was taken by the human adults, I sat on the bottom step of the stairs, watching the youngest of the Autobots' allies work on a holiday-themed snowman puzzle set up on a card table. Daemon and Beatrice Witwicky were crowded around it with Danny Epps, and Skids and Mudflap were helping them. It was kind of hard to figure out who was the most mature.

Prowl was keeping an eagle eye on Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who were eagerly conversing in the middle of the room with Jolt, Hound, Trailbreaker, and Mirage.

Optimus was talking with Samuel and Mikaela, Mom and Dad were over on the couch with Mr. and Mrs. Epps, Ratchet and Evac were deep in conversation in a corner, and Ironhide and Chromia had disappeared into the kitchen where, I suddenly realized, it was way too quiet.

While we weren't always 100% happy, we were one big family, and it warmed my heart to just sit back on the steps and watch everyone enjoy each other.

By rights, I shouldn't even be able to sit up, much less sit in this position and have it not hurt. No matter what was in those brightly-wrapped presents under the tree, nothing could beat the gift of simply sitting, chin on my knees, on the stairs. Being surrounded by the people I loved was just one more bonus.

When another set of headlights pulled up, I went to answer the door, waving Mom to sit back down. I had a pretty good guess who it was, just by process of elimination.

I was right, and Cam Romero was on the front step, a stack of three packages in his hands.

"Hi 'Bee, come on in,'' I said and held the door wide for him.

He extended the packages to me as he crossed the threshold. "These are from RC." Once his hands were free, he wrapped me up in a hug and added, "And so is this."

"Thanks," I laughed, pleasantly surprised that I didn't freak out around him.

He moved deeper into the living room, and I looked at the presents in my hands. With being stuck in her base form and being unable to use her holoform, Arcee wouldn't be able to attend tonight. Not as long as we had guests who were oblivious minors.

The thought made me frown slightly as I put the packages under the tree. Arcee shouldn't be alone tonight. 'Bee was with Sam and Optimus, a hand on each of their shoulders, and was laughing about something. She should be here to enjoy that laugh, but what could we do with the little kids here? Making her hide outside somewhere or eavesdrop from up in my bedroom wouldn't be any better and might even be worse.

"Hey Annabelle," Mom said, interrupting my thoughts. "Come help me serve the hot cocoa."

"We are in the Indian Ocean," I pointed out with a smirk.

She gave me an answering smile with a dash of scold. "And we're eating gingerbread along with the sugar cookies, so suck it up."

The kitchen was conspicuously empty of holoforms, though I could see motion in the darkness of the back porch. "Children present," Mom called out, and the figures guiltily jumped.

I didn't even want to know what Chromia and Ironhide were doing back there.

Instead, I focused on the pot of water that had wisps of steam rising from it, waiting to be turned into hot cocoa.

"I was just teasing earlier," Mom said as she spooned cocoa mix into the mugs.

"I know."

"You seem pretty quiet."

"Just thinking about Arcee. She's stuck alone in the Autobot hangar tonight."

"The broken transformation cog."

"Yep. Do you think…" I paused as the idea started to form in my head. "Do you think I could go back to the hangar to open the presents she gave me? Bumblebee probably wouldn't mind driving me. I doubt he wants her to be all alone either."

"Right now? During the party?"

"If you don't mind me ducking out."

Mom tilted her head and smiled. "I don't mind at all, and I'm sure you're okay with missing the Witwicky and Epps kids opening their presents."

I began ladeling hot water into the partially-filled mugs, and Mom nodded decisively. "That's very thoughtful of you, Annabelle. Yes, that's a good idea. As soon as we've got this cocoa served, go ask him, and please give her our love and holiday greetings, too."

Once everyone had their cocoa, Mom started reading a picture-book of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas for the little kids. I seized the moment to tug on Cam Romero's elbow.

He turned his face toward me, but his eyes remained fixed on Mom, like he was enraptured by her storytelling. "Yeah?" he asked in a low voice.

I whispered, "Can you take me to the hangar after this?"

He blinked and then finally focused on me. "Why?"

"Because no one should be alone tonight."

His puzzled expression gave way to a smile, and he knowingly tapped the side of his head. "Oh, don't worry, she's here in spirit."

So she was watching all this virtually? Somehow that was even worse when we were such a short drive away. "But I want her to see me open my presents in person. She can't be around the other kids, but I'm old enough now. Mom said I could."

He studied me for a second and then nodded. "Sure. As soon as your mom's done, grab your presents and we'll go."

...

It was quiet in NEST's main hangar – human or Cybertronian, nobody liked getting stuck with being on duty during a holiday. Arcee was just coming out of the med bay when we rolled up. I climbed out so 'Bee could transform, and she dropped to one knee to catch me in a hug. "Thank you, Firebrand. This is very thoughtful of you."

I hugged her right back. "Of course. Can't have my favorite Autobot aunt all by herself on Christmas Eve."

She chuckled and rose to her feet. "Let's take this to the barracks."

As we walked, I told Arcee about Mom and the gingerbread cookies, and she nodded in approval. "That's much more like the Spitfire we know and adore."

Once inside the enormous barracks-room, Arcee scooped me up to set me gently on the foot of her berth. She made herself comfortable against the headboard, and 'Bee set my presents in front of me. Then he settled in on the floor beside Arcee, laying his arm on the berth but barely touching her leg and letting his helm rest against her torso. The sight actually made me grin. It was casually affectionate and somehow perfect for those two. It made way more sense than the bot-smooching.

I kind of mentally stumbled at the memory, recalling kind of distantly how angry I'd been and realizing I wasn't feeling any of that in present. Still, to be sure my emotions didn't head that way, I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. I'm okay. I told myself. We're okay.

When I opened my eyes again, both 'bots were staring at me intently. "Everything good?" Arcee quietly asked.

I grinned and reached for my presents. "Everything's good."

...

New Year's Eve was just a week later, of course, and the big party was held in the Autobot barracks (since little kids weren't going to be out that late anyway).

One of Arcee's Christmas presents for me had been a pretty, pastel kimono-style dress. When I first opened it, I had blinked in surprise, not sure if she was aware this could look like cultural appropriation. Then I realized that they used their holoforms to impersonate alien species, so no, she totally would not get that concept. So I wore the dress to the party, since I knew no one there would be offended.

As I followed Ironhide, Chromia, and my parents past the medbay, I remembered all the times I'd been here for physical therapy in the last six months. By rights, I should have been using at least a walker, but here I was striding along without assistance and even risking low heels on my shoes.

I felt my shoulders tensing as we approached the barracks door. (It wasn't too hard to figure out why – I'd totally freaked out at first during my surprise birthday party here. When I'd been here Christmas Eve, it had been quiet, but I could already hear the music.)

"Go on ahead. I'll be there in a minute," I said.

Mom and Dad shared a look and then Dad nodded the 'bots toward the barracks. "We'll keep you company," he said to me.

"I just need a mindful minute," I said, kind of relieved that we all felt comfortable saying these kinds of things now. "No need to wait for me."

"Let me make the mom-choice?" Mom asked.

I swallowed down a lump in my throat and nodded. She pulled me into a hug, and then Dad wrapped his arms around the both of us. Even before I closed my eyes, I was aware of how safe I felt at that moment. Still, I took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and then mentally counted backward from ten to one. All the tension in my shoulders was gone by the time I was done, and I stepped back a bit.

"Ready?" Dad asked.

I grinned and confidently answered, "Ready."

Mom grinned in answer, gave me a tight hug, and said, "Then let's go!"

I strutted into the barracks in my two-inch heels and internally laughed at myself a little bit. It was like Mikaela's song about boots being made for walking. The blaring music and colored lights enveloped me, and I felt a little more triumphant with each step.

There was food for us humans, fuel for the 'bots, and a few of them (mostly Skids, Mudflap, and Bumblebee) tried busting moves. Arcee sat with me on the sidelines, and it reminded me that she was still down to one component, which was really too bad. With three components, she would have shown up all the mechs. It wasn't like human dancing, more like one long transformation sequence set to music. But it was fascinating to watch, and we had a great time cheering them on. Even Sideswipe took a turn, though Sunstreaker was too cool for that.

Dad danced with Mom for some of the slower songs and I wandered over to the buffet to refill my plate. Skids' holoform caught up with me just as I sat next to Arcee again. "May I have this dance?"

My jaw dropped a little. I thought I'd made it very clear that I wasn't going to be dating any Autobots, but I didn't want to make a big scene at the party. Instead, I stated the obvious. "Ratchet would kill me if I tried anything like that on this hip."

Apparently he overheard, because from across the room, Ratchet hollered, "Yes, he would!"

Optimus narrowed his optics at Ratchet, but Skids was as clueless as ever. "I call dibs on next year!" Then his holoform disappeared.

Beside me, Arcee muttered, "You'd be fine!"

I glanced up at her. "You really think so?"

"Trust me," she answered with a wink, "Ratchet's an aggravating, overprotective mother hen. And I offer that as an expert opinion."

I grinned at her and started in on my snacks.

As midnight rolled around, 'Bee found his way to Arcee's side again, Mom and Dad had their arms around each other, and even Ironhide and Chromia were more cuddled up than I'd ever seen before.

I didn't want Brian back – not in a million years – but it would have been nice to have someone to ring in the New Year with.

My thoughts were interrupted when Optimus' holoform brought me a champagne flute, a goblet of his own in his other hand. "Sparkling cider," he assured me as he handed the flute over.

"Thanks," I said, and I meant it. Sure, it was his middle-age holoform and not Tim Furst, but either way, the pity canceled itself out and we had a good time when the clock struck twelve.

We shouted "Happy New Year!" and clinked our glasses together and swung noise-makers while Mom and Dad blew on kazoos and Skids and Mudflap sprayed confetti over everyone. (Thankfully, nobody brought any munition-type fireworks.) We all laughed and Optimus put his arm around my shoulder to pull me into a hug as reassuring as one from my own father. Mom and Dad kissed and I felt more hopeful than I had in what felt like forever. A New Year's party is always fun, but this time, it also really felt like a new beginning. Sparklers got passed around, and Optimus and I swayed with the sparklers and hummed along to Auld Lang Sine. (Because honestly, no one bothers to learn all the words to it.)

We stayed for almost another hour, eating all the foods that were supposed to bring good luck. It wasn't until we were driving home with Ironhide that I started to get sleepy. I contentedly leaned my head against the window and remembered again how Optimus made the effort to be my first toast on New Year's. He was just taking care of me as one of his own – I understood that – but still. He was Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. He had so much to do and so many people to take care of that the 20 minutes he'd spent focused on me felt like a real gift.

"What's the nicest thing someone could do for Optimus, 'Hide?"

"End the War," he gruffly answered.

"The nicest thing I could do," I clarified.

"Grow up healthy and strong so you can help lead the next generation of our human allies."

I sighed. He clearly wasn't getting it.

…

In the days leading up to Valentine's Day, I spent a couple of hours looking for the perfect sympathy e-card. I didn't know much about Elita One, but it had to be hard when even his fellow 'bots had their mates around while his was extinguished. I'd never seen an Autobot grieve, but I knew better than to think that meant they didn't feel it. Since Cybertronian traditions wouldn't work here, I fell back on human ones. The Prime who took the time to toast the New Year with me would understand. I hoped. I was still pretty anxious when I hit "Send," though.

Optimus' reply arrived just seconds later. "Thank you, Firebrand. That was very kind of you." But that was all he sent – until mid-March.

Just before school ended for the day, I got a text from him that said, "Please meet me at the beach behind your house."

Okay?

Since Mom had an appointment with Dr. Sarkisian, I walked home as fast as I could. The familiar, fiery semi was in the driveway, and I ditched my backpack in the living room before heading out back and down toward the shore.

Optimus' teenage-looking holoform Tim Furst was sitting in the sand under the shade of some palms, looking out over the waves.

I was sweating from the rush home and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand before walking at a more dignified pace down to the water.

"I apologize if I alarmed you," Tim said, and he gestured toward the sand next to him.

I sank to sitting cross-legged, grateful for the shade. "That's fine. It's just…unexpected. But I'm happy to help in any way I can, Prime."

"The name's Furst," he answered, "and this is a mission that requires the utmost secrecy and skill." He smirked, removed his white cowboy hat, and handed it off to me. "I knew I could count on you."

The gesture reminded me of the time I'd stolen his hat when I'd talked him into helping me prank Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, and I looked up from the hat to him in surprise.

"What did the twins do?" I warily asked.

"Nothing. April 1st is coming up soon."

"Wait! Seriously?" I blinked in surprise. "You're getting in on that action?"

"It is tradition," he answered with a shrug. "I'm still proud of those holoform hiccups."

"That was you?" My jaw dropped. Prowl's holoform had fumed and cursed tin-plated twins under his breath for the whole holiday last year – between hiccups. "What about 'I can't prank my own warriors' and all that?"

His smirk became a grin. "Appearances have to be maintained – for the Prime."

I felt an answering smile spread over my own face. "But Tim Furst can get into all kinds of trouble?"

He shrugged again and leaned back on his elbows. "That is the point of this format, is it not? And you have proven your pranking prowess and ability to keep a secret. Care to be my co-conspirator?"

I plopped his cowboy hat on my head. "I am so in!"

…

April 1st was a Saturday, and I was planning on spending it with Arcee on base.

Over cold cereal at breakfast, Mom, Dad, and I all got a notification at the same time. Usually that meant 'bot chatter, and I reached for my phone at the same time Dad did, but he was faster. "What the frag?"

"Ironhide is a bad influence," Mom tisked, putting a bowl of sliced bananas on the table before reaching for her own phone.

I stared at my screen in pretend consternation. "I think this time the 'bot-cussing might be justified."

Outloud, she read, "The 'Dastardly Decepticons Ghost Hunter App' has now been installed?"

"Twins," Dad grumbled.

"Probably the closet linguists," Mom sagely chimed in. "'Dastardly' gives them away."

Some Pac-man style ghosts wearing Decepticon symbols wandered across my cell phone screen. Every ten seconds or so, they were joined by another ghost. I added a few sliced bananas to my bowl and shoveled some Cheerios into my mouth to hide my grin.

"Unless it's Sunstreaker and Sideswipe trying to frame them," Dad pointed out. "Prowl's gonna have a cow again." He tapped at his cell phone screen and huffed in frustration as the ghosts kept coming. "I'd better get up to the base."

"OH!" Mom exclaimed. "Hold your finger down on the screen!"

Dad gave her a puzzled look and then tried it. The ghosts started flashing and an Autobot Pac-man appeared at his fingertip. He smiled in fierce satisfaction as he swiped the Autobot around the screen, clearing it of Decepticon ghosts.

"Well, that's harmless enough," Mom said.

"Am I good to still go visit Arcee?" I asked Dad.

"Yeah. Let's hope this is as crazy as it gets today."

'Hide and 'Mia were on duty today, so Mom gave us a lift in her minivan. (She wanted to see Arcee for a bit, too.)

We entered the Autobot hangar to see mechs and femmes waving their arms in a scissor-pattern that reminded me vaguely of mimed animals that go "chomp" in children's nursery rhymes.

"What the frag?" I said, playing my part. Mom elbowed me but was too stunned herself to coherently scold me.

"Thomaczech, report!" Dad barked, heading to the command scaffolding.

"The Autobots' HUD's have been hacked," she said. "We think."

Dad let fly a mix of human and 'bot swears, and Thomaczech added, "Skids and Mudflap figured out for us that the app will pause temporarily as long as battle protocols are engaged, but Prowl doesn't think it's wise for the Autobots to walk around with their battle protocols turned on all day."

Arcee "chomped" her way over to us.

"You're seeing ghosts?" Mom asked her.

"Yeah, and instead of a phone app, we have to…" She clapped her hands together with a soft growl. "...catch them with our own servos. It's like a VR set gone rogue."

Prowl and Optimus strode into the hangar, and Prowl reached out to "chomp" his hands together. "...another April Fools' prank."

"I'm going to kill the twins," Arcee growled.

"Which ones?" Mom asked at the same time Optimus rumbled, "You'll have to get in line behind me."

My eyes widened. For the leader of the good guys, he was doing a really convincing job of acting upset.

"This is above the coding skill of even the twins," Prowl softly said, but I was close enough to hear him.

Optimus looked at him sharply. "Then who do you suspect?"

Prowl held his gaze for a second too long. "Ratchet."

I faked a cough to cover my laugh and thumped my chest.

"This is unacceptable," Optimus said. "I don't care who you have to interrogate. Investigate this and get to the bottom of it."

"The prank itself is one of the more harmless ones," Prowl evenly replied. "I'm more concerned about the security flaw it exposed. If our prankster can hack all our HUD's, so can the Decepticons."

"Then the prankster has done us all a favor in revealing it first," Optimus said.

How he managed to not sound smug, I'll never know. Still, Prowl's doorwings twitched in irritation.

"Let's just hope it doesn't last longer than today," Arcee grumbled, but she was looking at Prowl, not Optimus.

…

Sunday evening, I heard the unmistakable rumble of the Prime's engine in the driveway, but when I glanced out the window, it was Tim Furst who stepped out of the cab. "I'll be outside," I called out to my folks, who were in the kitchen debating what to have for dessert.

I stepped out onto the front porch and did a double-take when Tim reached out and "chomped" at something to his right. "Still seeing ghosts?"

His shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Prowl's security patch didn't work for me, for some odd reason." He sank down to sitting on the front steps.

"So Prowl figured out it was us?" I guessed as I joined him.

"He never admitted as much, but given the evidence…" he shrugged. "He no doubt reviewed all the Autobots' recorded communications, so he knows I met with you a couple of weeks before April Fools, and let's just say that we all have a healthy respect for your devious mind when it comes to pranks."

"Uh oh." It slipped out before I could stop myself, but he laughed again.

"You are a minor – you have nothing to worry about. I'm the responsible adult, at least as far as Prowl's concerned."

"And that's why he's punishing you by not turning off the ghost hunter app?"

"He won't confirm or deny anything, but we were both there when Arcee gave him that suggestion. I programmed the prank to only last for 24 hours, but that time constraint has apparently been overridden for me and only me, and I've been locked out." Ducking his head slightly, he admitted, "I am, unfortunately, entirely at Prowl's mercy."

"Ouch," I said, but it was with a grin.

He grinned in answer before "chomping" at two or three ghosts only he could see. "Perhaps, but still worth it. If he makes the punishment fit the crime, I'll only have to endure a total of an additional 24 hours of this. In the meantime, would you like to see the highlights?"

I laughed as I nodded and sat beside him, and he activated a projection for me.