Author's Note: Please pardon me while I indulge in a fangirl flight of fancy with this next story arc.

The doorbell rang. Crappy way to start a story, I know, but that's how it began. I was in my bedroom doing homework and the doorbell unexpectedly rang at a little after 16:00 hours. Mom was at the commissary, shopping, so I pulled out my earbuds and went downstairs to answer it.

Tim Furst stood on the front porch, fiddling with the cowboy hat in his hands.

"Oh. Hi!"

"May I come in?"

"I'm sorry! Of course, please…" I stood aside, making way for him before shutting the door. "What's up?"

He squared his shoulders. "I understand the prom is coming up."

Oh. No. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Mom's been talking, hasn't she."

"Actually, it was Arcee who mentioned that you were in an unusually foul mood. I asked Spitfire why, and she mentioned you had negative associations with prom."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Because of us."

"Because of the idiot boy who asked me last year."

"Because he was your only option and Ironhide drove him off."

The words stung as they hit home, and my reply was sharper than it should have been. "What do you need, Prime?"

"The name's Furst," he corrected gently. "And if you haven't already been asked, I was wondering if you would go to the prom with me this year."

You could have knocked me over with a feather. I just stared at his steady blue eyes until I started to feel a little faint.

"Will you go with me to the prom?" he formally asked.

"Uh…"

He gave a wry smile. "You pity-date me and I pity-date you…"

I sat down on the couch, running my hands over my face once before looking up at him. "I'm so going to kill the twins."

"You've already had your revenge," he said with just a hint of a smirk, "and for the record, it was one of the best pranks I've ever seen. I'm including you in my April Fools plans for the rest of your life. But you still haven't answered the question. I'm starting to get nervous here."

"Says Shockwaves's mortal enemy," I snarked at him.

"As two friends spending an enjoyable evening together, will you go with me to the prom?"

"You're serious."

"Perfectly."

All the air whooshed out of me, and I tried to convince myself this was just Furst, just another guy and not the godlike leader of an awesome alien race. Doing anything socially with Optimus Prime was out of the question, but with Furst…wasn't that the whole point of giving him a human designation? "I…Yes. I'll go with you."

He nodded his head, putting his hat back on. "I'm technically AWOL right now, so I can't stay any longer. But this is something between Tim Furst and Annabelle Lennox, not Prime and Firebrand. I'd prefer that the other Autobots didn't find out about all this. I'd never hear the end of it."

I chuckled. Yeah, I could only imagine – Skids and Mudflap on one side and Prowl on the other, Arcee standing in front of him with crossed arms and tapping her foot. And Ironhide looming behind his shoulder complaining he was too old for me. "I understand – this stays just between us humans."

He nodded. "Good. I'll be in contact through Will later this week to hammer out the details."

…

Mom came home ten minutes later, bustling in to stash the stuff in the fridge that needed to be frozen or refrigerated. I numbly followed her into the kitchen, and the shock on my face must have shown, because she did a double-take and asked, "What's wrong?"

I sat down in a kitchen chair. "Optimus…Tim just asked me to the prom."

"What?" she half-laughed.

"No, serious. He asked me out."

Realizing I meant it, her smile faded. "What did you tell him?"

"Yes? I mean, what else was I going to say? 'Sorry, you're too old for me, but thanks for humiliating yourself for an ungrateful teenager.'" I shook my head, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

She chuckled then, and patted my arm as it rested on the table. "I'm glad you said yes."

Telling Mom made it seem suddenly real, and my brain finally kicked into gear. "What am I going to wear?"

"I'm sure Arcee will have another trick up her sleeve. After last time, I doubt she'd have any less than two fancy-dress gowns on hand for you."

"But I can't tell her," I said. "Optimus wants this to be just between us humans. The 'bots would tease him to the Pit and back if they found out." Not to mention Ironhide's reaction.

"That dress last year was cute," Mom mused.

"Yes, but there's no way on Earth or Cybertron that I'm wearing it to a second prom. I don't want to jinx the night."

Mom's eyes started to sparkle, and a grin spread over her face like the sun coming up. "You know, I just might have something for you." Grabbing my hand (and abandoning the rest of the groceries), she ran upstairs with me, leading me into her bedroom where she threw open her closet. "Arcee has found a few gems for me over the years, and you and I have similar coloring and are close to the same build." Throwing me that brilliant grin over her shoulder, she added, "And I've kind of missed bonding with you over clothes."

A little sigh actually escaped me at that one, and I threw my arms around her. I hadn't even thought about how all Arcee's primping and accessorizing over the years was stealing me away from my mom. "I'm sorry!"

"Don't be," she laughed, turning to catch me in a hug. "I'm just pleasantly surprised." Letting me go, she turned back to the closet. "I just hope I have something that will work." Shuffling clothes out of the way, she dug to the back of the closet to her fancy dresses. She had half a dozen, but I'd never tried any of them on before – mostly because I always had my own. There was a little black-velvet cocktail dress that was pretty but there was no way I could actually dance in it, a midnight-blue power suit coat with a matching pencil skirt that would make me look like a corporate raider, a red knee-length dress with a V-neck and an empire waist that was way too brazen for me, a deep-purple crepe number that looked frumpy on me, a fitted peach evening gown with elbow-length gloves that would have been perfect if it hadn't made my bust look conspicuously flat, and an ice-blue sleeveless full-length gown with a royal-blue bolero.

As I tried each one on, I tried to imagine myself standing beside Tim Furst and I couldn't quite wrap my mind around it – until I tried on the ice-blue gown. Mom zipped it up, and then I could see it. The color would bring out the blue in Furst's eyes. The cut of the dress was stately enough that I wouldn't feel embarrassed standing beside him in it, unlike the evening gown with the plunging neckline. The bodice was fitted to the waist in velvet with satin for the flowing skirt.

"I don't know about the bolero," I mused as I stared at myself in the mirror and swayed from side to side, watching the way the skirt rustled and moved. "Royal blue isn't a popular color this year."

"So go without it," Mom said, resting her hands on my shoulders and grinning at me in the mirror. "It's pretty on you. Do you think it might work?"

I turned around and caught her in a hug, tears coming to my eyes. Nothing made my mom happier than when she made other people happy, and I knew this meant a lot to her. "I think it's perfect."

…

Over the next three weeks, I quietly got myself ready for prom. If Arcee hadn't been holed up on base thanks to her injury, I never would have been able to keep it a secret, but since Chromia spent less time focused on me, I could hide my growing excitement.

Unexpectedly perfect dress from Mom? Check.

Shoes of my own that matched? Check.

Silk-flower boutonniere made for Op… Tim? Check. (Because fresh flowers were all but impossible to get on Diego Garcia under the best of circumstances.)

Jewelry, make-up, and hairstyle selected? Check.

Both make-up and hair were much simpler this time, since it was just Mom and not a small army of holoform!femmes who would be primping and prepping me. And make-up was going to have to wait until after dinner.

Tim had apparently looped Dad in on what the plans were, and he'd passed them along to Mom, but neither of them would spill the beans, no matter how much I pestered them. All Mom would say was that Tim's plans would allow her plenty of time to fancy me up. And Dad mentioned that Optimus' absence from base for prom night was causing a bit of a hubbub on base, including a betting pool. "But I'm keeping your secret," he promised with a wink.

About 16:00 hours a familiar, flaming semi pulled up to the house and parked in Ironhide's normal spot. Dad climbed out of the passenger seat, though, and he and Tim lugged two coolers into the house.

I held the front door open for them. "What's all this?"

"This," Dad said, setting his cooler down on the counter, "is dinner."

I looked at Tim for an explanation, but he just gave me a little smile and shrugged.

Mom clapped Furst on the shoulder. "You know your way around the kitchen."

Wait, he did? Since when?

"Thank you, Sarah," he said with a tip of his hat to her.

Then Dad held out his elbow for Mom, she looped her arm through it, and she said to me, "Have fun!" They both started walking toward the front door.

"Um…?"

"We're going out for dinner at the Officers' Club," Dad explained to me as he held the door for Mom, "and you two are dining in."

"Okay. I guess...you two have fun, too."

Dad grinned, nodded, and closed the door.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to look at Furst, who stood awkwardly with his hands in his pockets for a second or two. "Shall we?"

"Uh...sure," I answered, following him into the kitchen.

He started unpacking a cooler. "Your mother said that you enjoy Indian food. I have the ingredients here for lamb saag –"

"My favorite!" I blurted out. Anytime we visited India, I ordered it at every restaurant.

"– with basmati rice, naan, and mango lassi."

"That sounds amazing!"

He grinned and nodded. "Good."

And he didn't go halfway either. The cooler he was unloading had fresh mangos, chile peppers, spinach, and a coconut in them, which were all a rarity on DG (except for the coconut). In the other cooler, I found some fresh lamb, along with some bread dough for the naan, whole spices, and a jar of uncooked rice.

I glanced sidelong at him. "Do you know what to do with all this? Because I'm not sure what half of these spices even are." But holy slag, one of them was real saffron! "And don't we need a tandoor for naan?"

"I've found several cooking blogs and videos to be very instructive," he coyly answered. "As well as an improvisation for baking the naan, though that does make it less than authentic. And of course, your mother's assistance has been invaluable. I didn't prepare much in advance, though, because I wanted it to perfectly suit your tastes."

A little, "Aw," slipped out before I could catch myself. (Did I seriously just coo at Optimus Prime?) He chuckled once, so I guess he didn't mind. Besides, he really was going above and beyond. "Thank you, Furst."

"Of course." He brandished a kitchen device I didn't recognize, and considering Mom's legendary hospitality was literally military-grade sometimes, that's saying something. "Let's begin by grinding these spices."

He gallantly chopped the onion and peppers while the lamb browned in the pan and I ground coriander and cumin seeds. The aroma began to fill the kitchen, and it was amazing.

Over peeling garlic, he asked how I was doing in my classes.

"Could be better, could be worse," I hedged, pouring the ground spices into a bowl and reaching for the cilantro.

"I understand you have an IEP due to your injury that's designed to help you stay on track."

I half-smiled at that. "Showing up for prom probably means no one will believe that excuse anymore."

"Annabelle," he firmly said and waited until I looked up at him. "It is a reason, not an excuse."

I flushed a little and went back to cutting up the cilantro with kitchen shears. "Yeah, well, either way, I'm fully accountable now for my own C's." Glancing up at him, I added, "Because of you and the others. Thank you."

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings," he recited, "even if it means freedom to get C's."

I chuckled and shook my head at him. By then the meat was browned and he set it aside to make room for the onions in the pan. We went through the motions of preparing the meal, and besides being in great company, it was fun to learn how to do it all. If I could ever get my hands on the ingredients, I was totally making the saag again. My mouth was watering the whole time.

Once we had the saag simmering, Opti...Tim got the basmati rice going and showed me how to roll out the bread dough for our kinda-naan. The work-around for the tandoor was to pan-fry the rolled-out pieces in a covered, cast-iron skillet. As I finished pan-baking each piece, I placed it on a plate in the oven to keep warm. He was right that it wasn't as perfect as naan from a tandoor, but it was good enough for Diego Garcia.

He dished out the lamb saag just as I finished with the last piece of naan, and then we brought it all out to the picnic table on the back porch. That's when I finally noticed that the table was set with Mom's best dishes, a nice tablecloth, fancy cloth napkins, and even goblets. "Whoa."

"I have to treat my prom date well," Tim answered, nudging me with his shoulder.

"Well so far you're two for two," I assured him.

"Two?"

"Saag and this," I said, nodding toward the table.

He nodded in agreement and held the chair for me when we sat down. He even graciously let me take the first helpings of our meal. It was so good! Considering the cooks were an alien and someone who might as well be, I couldn't have asked for better.

"So what excuse did you give Prowl so you could get tonight off?" I wondered.

"None," he said between bites.

I tilted my head. "None? But I thought we were keeping it just between us humans."

"We are. He asked what I was doing with my personal time and I simply told him it was personal."

I choked on my sip of water. Laughing to myself, I said, "You seriously told Prowl to mind his own business?"

"Not in so many words."

"Do you think it will work?"

"If Jazz were alive, it wouldn't. But since Prowl doesn't have an accomplice...I expect so."

"You've got guts."

He chuckled. "Yes, it takes uncommon courage to tell off Prowl."

I wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not, so I let it go.

…

We'd finished dinner and started clearing the table when Mom and Dad got back. "That's my job," Dad said, taking the plates from my hands. "You're supposed to get all gussied up."

"We haven't had the lassi yet," Tim pointed out.

Mom said, "We're just in time, then. You two get started on that while Will and I clean up."

Tim and I made mango lassi for all four of us, and we sat on the back deck chit-chatting for a few minutes while we enjoyed sipping our lassi. Once mine was gone, though, Mom took the empty glass out of my hand, put it on the table, and almost as giddy as me, she dragged me up the stairs.

It only took about twenty minutes for her to put on my make-up and do my hair. It was a style I hadn't worn in years – she made a small braid on either side of my face and then pulled them back to form a "crown." She added a few jeweled bobby pins for fun, zipped me into the blue dress, and draped a sheer white shawl over my shoulders.

Mom grinned at me in the mirror. "You look beautiful. I hope you have a wonderful time tonight, honey."

I grinned right back. "Well considering my date is literally 'the best,' I'm sure I will."

She laughed and helped me into my shoes.

...

My ride to prom was a bobtail semi, of course. It raised a few questions in my mind, though. "So how did you manage to get tickets to prom? I mean, no one over 19 is allowed."

"Will personally vouched for me. He claimed I was the eighteen-year-old younger brother-in-law of his friend and co-worker Aaron Hyde. In an unusually good stroke of fortune, the ship I'm working on is scheduled to be in port for a few days, including tonight."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and he shrugged with a half-smile. "Ironhide is considerably older. And very few people have ever seen this format for my holoform."

I guess that made a certain sense. It was close enough to the truth that I'd be able to easily remember it. "Just so I can keep my story straight, where is Tim Furst originally from?"

"I grew up on a ranch in the mountains outside of Bakersfield, CA."

I fought a smile, knowing exactly which ranch he was referring to.

"And which ship did you come in on?" I asked in mock severity.

"The USS Lassetter, a supply ship for the base currently in port."

I nodded in approval. "That'll work."