There weren't many buildings off-base that could hide Optimus' alt-form, so we ended up parked behind the repair shop that serviced everything from air conditioners to yachts. It was a block away from the Enlisted Men's Club where we were holding prom, and since I was in flats, I didn't mind the extra walking.

Like with Brian and Ironhide, Optimus' door didn't open under my hand once we got there. Instead, it remained closed until Tim Furst walked around to my side and opened it for me. Offering me his hand, he helped me navigate my satin-and-chiffon way to the ground.

Because I was on a date with a gentleman. And he was not going to let me forget it.

When he held out his arm for me, I knowingly smiled and looped mine through. "Thank you."

He glanced sidelong at me. "For what?"

"For dinner. For this," I said, gesturing toward the club where my fellow students were also arriving.

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "We still haven't tried to dance."

I laughed at that, and he grinned in answer. There was a part of me that was very happy to know I'd made him smile.

He presented our tickets at the door, and then we were inside the blessed air conditioning. The DJ was up on a dais, already blasting out tunes, and the whole place was decorated with streamers and balloons in patriotic colors – because we were all military brats. Speaking of, the room was half-full of kids, with a few parents and teachers sprinkled in. I noticed Kathryn and Shannon staring bug-eyed at us, and I shyly waved.

"May I take your wrap?" Tim asked.

I focused on him and nodded, a little tongue-tied by his formality. He lifted it off my shoulders and walked toward the coat-check. Seizing the opening, Kathryn and Shannon descended on me.

"Wow!" Kathryn whispered. "Where'd you import him from?"

"Is he even young enough to be here?" Shannon demanded.

"Yeah, he's only eighteen," I answered. "He's the kid brother-in-law of one of Dad's friends on the base. He happened to be on one of the ships that pulled into port earlier this week."

"Lucky you," Kathryn said wistfully.

Shannon sniffed. "He's a bit too cowboy for me."

Furst returned, minus the offending cowboy hat, and inclined his head toward us. "Ladies."

Their jaws dropped, and a hint of mirth sparkled in Tim's eyes. It wasn't until then – when I saw their reaction – that I really thought about Optimus' voice. He was always one of Dad's buddies. I'd grown up with that voice, and it was a friendly, reassuring one. But here and now, I heard just how…how…sexy his voice was.

Sweet Cybertron! I'd just had a teenage-girl thought about Optimus Prime. What was wrong with me?

"Annabelle," Furst invited in a suave tone, offering me his arm. I accepted, and as we walked away, I think someone may have swooned behind us. He led us to the refreshments table and chose a glass of punch for both of us.

"I'm impressed," I admitted, taking the glass he offered me.

"Why is that?" he asked, leading me by the arm again toward the tables that ringed the dance floor.

"You're a perfect gentleman. I mean, of course you would be a gentleman but I didn't…um…" I sighed and shut my mouth, deciding I'd dug a deep-enough hole already.

"I helped rule a planet, once upon a time," he softly reminded me, speaking into my ear. "Though I haven't had an excuse to for a long time, I am capable of being polite. Even cultured, on a good night."

I chuckled a little breathlessly, awestruck as I suddenly recalled the stories Ironhide had told me about Optimus' past. No wonder Sunny and Sides had laughed themselves silly at the idea of him taking me to a movie.

We arrived at a secluded table and Furst pulled out a chair for me. Taking his seat beside me, he wistfully looked over the dance floor. "So unlike, and yet it brings back many memories."

"Good memories?"

A sad smile flitted across his face. "Very good."

"Did you dance…back then?"

"No." He looked down and played with his glass, swirling the punch around. "But we did have contests of skill and speed and agility. Sometimes individually, and sometimes as teams or couples. Party games, I guess you'd call them."

"Were you any good?"

He finally looked at me in surprise and then smirked. "Very good."

I chuckled. "Naturally. What was I thinking?"

"Strength and skill I excelled at. Speed and agility, however…"

"You got spanked?"

He softly snorted at the term. "Let's just say the femmes were better at those."

"So you got spanked by a femme?"

His shoulders shook with quiet laughter as he looked at the table, avoiding my gaze. "Among other things." Sobering a little but still smiling, he said, "She and I were unstoppable as a team."

"Is that how you met her?" I asked softly. No question about who 'she' was, not when he was still studying the table like that. It was the first time I'd ever heard him talk openly about Elita One.

"No, not in the games. We discreetly enjoyed each others' company for a long while before she felt comfortable going out in public with me. But once the secret was out…unstoppable."

"I'm trying to imagine it…"

"Think something along the lines of capture-the-flag combined with paint ball where tackling is allowed."

Okay, definitely NOT what I was imagining. "And this was high-brow culture?"

"You should have seen the games of choice for the ruffians," he deadpanned.

"I'm not sure I would have had the stomach for it."

Leaning back in his seat and taking a sip of punch, he amiably agreed, "Probably not."

"You miss her." The words were out before I could think about them.

"Yes," he answered, looking down again. Something about the tone of his voice ended that conversation.

My cheeks blushed hot while cold guilt made me sick to my stomach. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The last thing he needed on his night out was to be reminded that his mate was dead. Completely at a loss, I floundered for a minute, focusing on breathing my way clear of an anxiety attack. "I'm sorry," I finally whispered.

"Do not be," he stoically answered, still studying the table. "She was a valiant warrior, and her sister avenged her." He hesitated, taking a deep breath. "She was…very fond of my voice. Seeing the girls' reaction reminded me."

"You definitely haven't lost your touch." He looked up at me sharply, and I managed a little smile, nodding toward Shannon and Kathryn. "I think they're jealous just because we're talking."

"And that makes you happy?"

"Maybe a little bit," I confessed.

"That's what tonight is all about," he said, rising to his feet and offering me his arm again. "Shall we make some memories?"

The somber moment was suddenly gone, and I realized he was bottling it all up again. For me. Because this was my night and he didn't want his grief to ruin it. It didn't seem fair to him at all.

"But I thought you didn't dance."

"Not back then," he admitted, "but it wouldn't be much of a prom if you didn't get to dance. I learned. I can do everything from waltz to polka to salsa to hip-hop."

"Break dance?" I tentatively asked and then remembered the rhythmic transform sequences from the New Years Eve party. I'm not sure if he could pull off the human or the 'bot form of break dancing.

He glanced at my waist – my hip – with concern. "If you want to."

"No way," I protested. "At the first sign of a fast song, we're taking a breather."

"Agreed," he answered, obviously relieved. "If I tried something like that, the ghost of Jazz himself would return from the dead to laugh his head off at me." Then he frowned thoughtfully. "Or upstage me. I'm sure he would have taken to dancing like a fish to water, as the saying goes."

Not sure what to say to that, I asked, "How did you learn to dance?"

"How else?" he asked with a smirk. "The internet."

"Oh, good grief. That's cheating, you know."

A sly twinkle of amusement danced in his eyes. "Only if it's a competition."

Grinning, I rose to my feet, taking his arm. "When you're sixteen, everything is a competition."

We stood on the edge of the dance floor, and a slow song was playing. Furst asked, "What dances do you know?"

"Um…none?"

He frowned slightly, looking down at me. "None? But you attended last year's…never mind." He led me out onto the floor. "We should have practiced for a few minutes before we came inside. Can't be helped now." Stopping, Furst turned to me, taking one of my hands in his and placing my other hand on his shoulder. Then he rested a hand on my waist. "It's my responsibility to lead, but I can't do that if you're not willing to follow. Like so…"

I felt a light pressure on my waist, pressing me to one side and back just a little.

"Move where and when I guide you. My objective is to ensure we don't crash into anything and to lead you through the steps. Your objective is to keep us the same distance apart when I step toward you. Always. Brace your arm against my shoulder so we will move as a unit. Begin by stepping backward with your right foot. Ready?"

I almost giggled – he made dancing sound like a battlefield operation. "You forgot the most important objective."

He tilted his head curiously. "What is that?"

"Having fun."

Fighting a grin, he answered, "You said it was a competition; therefore, it was implicit."

I chuckled, and he moved forward, talking me through the steps, "Back…back…side…close."

It was surprisingly easy. For never having danced before, he led flawlessly. I always knew exactly where he was going next and my stride didn't falter. We might have even looked like we knew what we were doing. We even managed a simple turn pretty well. After a half dozen slow songs, I started to relax and really get into it.

A series of faster songs followed in which we talked at the table about random topics. I asked him why he went for the cowboy look. ("You know how 'Hide has a thing for Clint Eastwood? I have an affinity for John Wayne.") He asked if I planned to go to college or into the military after I graduated. (I hadn't really thought a whole lot about either one, though I knew my dad would be nervous about his young lady following in his footsteps. "College, I guess. Somewhere stateside, probably.")

"For our next song," the DJ interrupted us, "we'll be doing a snowball dance. Two couples will start the dance, and when prompted, they'll split and the four dancers will go ask someone else to dance so we have four couples. We'll repeat this until everyone is dancing. So to start, can we have Annabelle Lennox and her guest and Heather Thompson and Jason Lansing out on the floor please?"

Furst gave me a curious look, but I shrugged. Of course everyone was eager to have a turn with the mysterious stranger. "Good luck out there," I murmured to him as he led me out onto the dance floor.

"And to you," he answered, dead serious. "I'll keep you in visual range and return to you as soon as the song is finished."

I sniggered. "Just don't be bringing any cannons online, okay? I can handle my own classmates."

"You forget who you're talking to," he murmured. "I also excel in hand-to-hand combat. And I don't doubt your ability, but it's my place as your date to ensure your safety."

"Arcee would cuff you to hear you talk like that. And I should, too."

He looked at me almost like he was seeing me for the first time. "I stand corrected. My apologies, Firebrand."

"Don't worry about it. Just…trust me. I'll call for backup if I need it, so don't come running in with fists swinging – unless I holler first," I answered with a wink.

"I can live with those terms."

"Snowball!" the DJ called.

He stepped away and I turned, surveying my options. The pickings were pretty slim.

I'll say this for Furst – he was a perfect gentleman with every girl he danced with. Though I'd never admit it, I kept him in visual range, too, and for the same reasons. Guys weren't the only ones who could aggressively pursue the one they wanted, and Furst was here as my guest. I had a duty to watch out for him. The fifth time the DJ called snowball, Furst managed to snatch me up again. "Everyone will have a partner," he assured me.

"You calculated it, did you?"

He just gave me a grin. Then his eyes widened. "Oh…"

"…Pitt," a familiar voice said behind me.

Incredulous, I turned to see Kathryn in the arms of a young man I almost recognized. He had a narrow, angular face and jet-black hair, and he was wearing a black suit and tie with a white shirt. If he were thirty years older, he would have been Prowl.

"Harrison Pitt?" Kathryn said politely. "That's an unusual name."

"Is it?" he quietly asked. "I was named after a celebrity."

I whirled back to face Tim, trying to avoid looking at the coming train wreck. "What's he doing here?" I hissed.

"An excellent question," Furst intoned, and I could hear he was Not Happy.

"He stands out like a sore thumb. May as well stamp 'Men In Black' on his forehead."

"Agreed. If you can distract your classmate, I'll send him away."

I instantly envisioned the stir this would cause. "Um…that might not be the best idea. He's already made an appearance, and there will be questions asked."

He gave me a perplexed look. "Interrogations?"

"Not officially. More like where'd he come from, where'd he go, and if anyone got his phone number. We have a pretty small dating pool. You at least have a cover story. If he just disappears, and then someone sees his…him later, it could be problematic. He's already crashed the prom – it'll look less suspicious if you claim him as a buddy and the two of you leave together at the end of the night. Or you both leave with me. Or whatever."

"Perhaps it would be the better punishment, anyway," Furst growled. "More fitting for the crime."

I glanced over my shoulder and sniggered at Prowl's obvious awkwardness with dancing. Turning back to Furst, I said, "Have pity on Kathryn at least and give him some of your online study materials. She's one of the nicer girls. She actually talks with me at lunch sometimes."

"Did she not come with a date?"

"Officially, she and Shannon are here stag – "

"Stag?"

"Without a date. But Brian Lee's been hitting on Shannon ever since he saw you. He's trying to make me jealous."

His bright eyes were amused. "Is it working?"

"Do I look like an idiot?"

He chuckled. "Point taken." Then he unexpectedly sobered. "Except…he's human."

"Allegedly. I'll take a gentleman over that jerk any day."

Furst's grin returned. "Your mother raised you well."

"Damn straight. And don't forget Mia and Arcee."

"How could I? And your father and 'Hide. Can't forget them."

"Indeed," I solemnly intoned, and Furst laughed at my poking fun at him and his voice.

The song ended, and taking Furst's hand, I dragged us both over to the table where Prowl was trying to take his leave of Kathryn. "Hey!" I greeted her, sliding into the chair at her left.

Prowl stood just as Furst – with an Optimus glint in his eyes – laid a hand on Prowl's shoulder. To any casual observer, it would appear friendly, but I caught Prowl's slight wince. "Harry!"

Another fast song started up.

"You know each other?" Kathryn asked, surprised.

"Oh yes," Furst easily answered. "Harry and I go way back. I just didn't expect him to track me down here tonight." Turning to the object of his ire, Furst added, "I thought you said you had other things you needed to be doing."

Prowl shrugged. "Someone else was able to cover for me."

Furst grinned innocently (which is enough to make even a Decepticon run in panic) and said, "Since you're here, you may as well stay and enjoy the party. I understand Kathryn is here alone, why don't you dance with her?"

Kathryn ducked her head. "Uh, guys, you don't have to…I mean, I'm just here to have fun."

"So's Harry!" Furst exclaimed jovially, shaking his friend's shoulder a little before unhanding him. "Though I'm sure he'd appreciate being introduced to any other of your female friends who are here stag, as well."

Prowl rolled his shoulder a little, and I could just envision him twitching a doorwing irritably.

"We're over at that table," Furst added, pointing to where we'd left our punch. "Why don't you join us?"

"Um…" Kathryn looked at me and then at Furst and Prowl. I could almost read her thoughts as she weighed her options. She was risking social blackballing by ditching Shannon to hang out with me, but on the flip side, she could spend her sophomore prom at the same table as The Voice and Tall-Dark-and-Bodyguard instead of being a wallflower while Brian and Shannon danced the night away. "That sounds nice," she finally said, rising to her feet. "Thank you."

Furst offered me his arm and then gave Prowl – I had to stop thinking of him as an Autobot or I would slip up in front of Kathryn for sure – gave Harrison a Look. Glancing sheepishly at Kathryn, Harry mimicked him, offering her his arm, and together we walked back over to our table. Furst pulled out a chair for me, and Pr…er, Harrison did the same for Kathryn. As I watched him try to navigate the world of human good manners, I realized he'd set himself up for the best prank ever. Optimus could use his memory files from tonight for blackmail to get away with anything. Which, come to think of it, was probably a good thing since I was 100% positive that "dating humans" was on Prowl's "If an Autobot, Do NOT Do the Following" list.

"Um…Annabelle?" Kathryn suddenly said. "I need to freshen up. Do you?"

"Oh! Sure." Glancing at Furst, I said, "I'll be right back."

He gave me another perplexed look, and I mouthed, "Later." It was a lie. I had no intention of explaining to the leader of the Autobots why teenage girls always went to the bathroom in groups at social functions. Firstly – too embarrassing. Secondly – he'd never get it anyway.

"Where did you meet them?" Kathryn breathed as soon as we were safely hidden away in the women's room. "You didn't tell me there were two guys from the States around town."

"Like I said, Furst's the kid brother-in-law of one of Dad's friends from the base. Harrison…" I caught myself just in time. Maybe he'd already given her a cover story. "I don't know him very well. In fact you probably know more about him than I do, if you talked while you danced."

"He didn't say much. Just his name and that he was here alone. That's as far as the conversation got before the end of the song. He seems really shy or something."

Or something, I thought, like alien and not organic. "Oh. Well, all I know is that Furst is related to one of my dad's friends, Aaron Hyde. I guess Harrison…and maybe another couple of guys," I added for good measure, just in case anyone else got it into their processors to come tonight, "tagged along to keep Furst company."

"So…is he going to be here long?"

Longer than our grandkids. "I'm not sure. Furst's shipping out in a couple of days, but I doubt I'll see him again before he goes. Tonight's kind of a pity date."

"Even if it is, you're still the luckiest girl here," Kathryn said earnestly.

And that sounded just about right.