I'm back! Replies:

Lalacutie: I'm not sure. I technically do have another story in The Young Teacher series, but I doubt that I'll ever write it down in full, or publish it. But I'm glad you're enjoying this!

I don't own TF:P.

Enjoy.

Arcee stared at the office door, terrified.

Everything about Yoketron's summons screamed punishment. Ratchet had assured her that the Guild master wouldn't punish her - after all, she hadn't done anything wrong - but she was not a trusting femme.

Besides, she'd disclosed the fact that she was actually a low caste to Ratchet, and she was sure that Yoketron would be furious about it. He'd expressly warned her not to tell anybot.

She delayed knocking on the door for a full microcycle. Then she decided that the master would be even angrier if she kept him waiting. So she steeled herself and knocked on the heavy metal door. "Come in." The voice sounded tinny on the outside, and she had the bizarre urge to laugh.

Inside, to her surprise, she could see two . other younglings standing in front of Yoketron, who was at his desk. "Come in quickly! And shut the door."

Once she had done so, she stood beside the two others. Arcee glanced at them curiously. One was around eleven vorns old. He had a steel paintjob with red detailing. His frame was all hard edges and sharp squarish armor. His expressionless face unnerved her. The other femme was around Ratchet's age, with an electric blue frame and white touches. Her armor was stylish but heavy. When they noticed where she was standing, they stared back in disgust. How could a low caste even think of standing next to them?

"Arcee, these two are Chromia-" Yoketron indicated the femme, "-and Ironhide. Chromia and Ironhide, for the clarification of all involved, state your offenses."

"We were fighting in the corridor." answered Chromia in a dull, bored tone. Yoketron tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Exactly how many times has this indiscipline occurred, Ironhide?"

"Forty-four." The mech said stiffly.

"Exactly. Which is why I have decided to teach you a lesson, once and for all. Initially, I was going to make you run up and down Mount Tam in a three legged race." Chromia and Ironhide glanced at each other in horror.

Master Yoketron leaned across the desk. "But then, I thought of a more productive way to punish you." Arcee shuttered her optics. Wait, what about her? Was she being punished too, or what?

"You three will train together, as a team, for the Annual Iaconian Freeform Fighting Championship. And I want you to win."

Three jaws dropped.

"But sir-"

"The femme's too young-"

"She's a low caste, we could never win-"

"She hasn't even been given her Primary Weapon yet-"

"She has flimsy armor-"

"And Ironhide is a fragger who will annoy me to death in a solar cycle if we start training together!"

"Why, you little-"

"Enough!"

The two younglings glared at each other.

"I am doing this because I want you to learn to work together! Sometimes, we have to work with bots that we do not like. That does not mean that you allow it to affect you! Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." Ironhide replied sullenly.

"Chromia! Do you understand, or not?"

"Yes sir. But sir, how could we possibly win with her on our team?" Chromia indicated Arcee with a flick of her helm, as though she were beneath notice.

Master Yoketron smiled. "That is for you to figure out."

"How was your day?"

Arcee cocked her helm at him. "Okay."

"Nobot said anything to you?"

The femmeling made a face at him. "Fine. It was horrible. Happy now?" Ratchet frowned. "I'm just asking." Arcee kicked at a stone in her path. "I'm just telling." It had been five solar cycles since the the bullies had been caught, and two since Ratchet had been called up to Yoketron's office. He knew that it would take a while before she didn't mind being nice to him; he'd been terrible to her for three whole orns before he'd realised his mistake. Still, it was starting to irritate him. He was trying to be nice. Why did she have to assume that every other thing he said was meant to annoy her?

He sighed. Be patient with her. He was still trying to work out exactly how to go about obeying Yoketron's orders. So far, it wasn't going too well. "What happened?"

She shrugged. "Usual stuff. Stupid instructor. Stupid other bots. Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"How's that competition thing going?"

"Lousy." She stated curtly. Ratchet sighed. They walked in silence for a little while. "It wouldn't be so terrible if I were actually good at it." said Arcee suddenly. "It's not my fault I'm not built like them. It's not my fault I have flimsy low grade armor! It's not my fault I'm not huge and bulky!" she spat, stomping ahead and dragging Prowl with her. Ratchet shrugged. "Why are you so mad about it, then?"

"'Cause – I – They think I'm weak! And I'm not!"

"Well, why don't you figure out a way to prove it to them?"

"They just – don't – listen. No matter what. They treat me like I can't understand what they're saying, like I have underdeveloped processors. They keep talking about how we're going to lose because of me and they're going to have to run up Mount Tam as punishment. And Ironhide is just mean."

Ratchet was immediately on the alert. "What did he do?" She waved him off. "He just keeps hitting me all the time, that's all." She made it sound like it wasn't a big deal at all, but then, considering the pain she'd been through before, it probably was nothing to her. Still... Well, at least it explained her bad mood.

They were now in the Dnanix, or engineering, sector. The heavy sounds of machinery and welders filled their audio receptors, and Ratchet noticed Arcee dragging her steps. She was only moving forward because Prowl was making her. He stopped to let them catch up. Keep her occupied, and don't let her become depressed. What could he do? "What's gotten you so..." He didn't even know how to frame the question. Arcee ignored it.

Keep her occupied. Was there something he could do about that, at least? He didn't know. How on Cybertron was he supposed to take care of her? He was just three vorns older than her, for Primus' sake.

She glanced at him, and he immediately rectified his scowl. She didn't need to know his troubles. She had enough to process already. What then, did she need?

Arcee noticed it anyway. "What's wrong?" She actually sounded concerned, which was more than he deserved from her. "Don't worry about it." Arcee scrunched her optic ridges, exaggerating her frown. It was practically her base expression now. He shuttered his optics. When was the last time she'd smiled? He couldn't even remember.

Then it hit him. What Arcee needed was some fun. She probably hadn't had anything entertaining to do in a pretty long while. He'd given his old toys to Prowl, but Arcee was a bit too old to play with toy cars and planes. "Hey, Arcee..."

"Huh?"

"Would you like to go to the park?" Arcee shuttered her optics. "Uh..."

"You've never been to a park, have you?"

"No."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

Arcee still seemed hesitant. "What's there?"

" There's a swing, and – You've never been on a swing, have you? And there's a seesaw, and a climbing wall-"

"No climbing." She said firmly. Ratchet shrugged. "Okay. There's a big ground there, too. Maybe we can play something. Lots of younglings come there. They're all from Dnanix, though..."

"Then let's not go."

"You don't have to talk to them if you don't want to. Besides, you have to go on the swing! You'll like it. Promise."

She looked back at him, weighing her options. "Agraja," Prowl interrupted her thoughts, "We go?" She looked down at him for a moment, then turned to Ratchet. "Okay. Let's go."

Ratchet grinned. "Good. Let's go tell Appa first, though."

As they walked towards the house, the noise of machinery slowly died away. Ratchet rang the bell. Sift grinned down at them. He had been very happy about the change in his son's attitude toward Arcee and Prowl, and so he smiled extra wide when opening the door for them, when they all came in together. "Hello!"

"Hi, Appa, listen." Appa listened, cocking an audio receptor. "We're, uh, going to the park." Sift looked understandably surprised – Ratchet hadn't been to the park since some younglings had poured gravel down his armor because he ran too slow. Of course, it had only been a prank, but the result had been that Ratchet hadn't been there since he was seven vorns old. "And...you're okay with that?"

"I'm nine vorns old now." Ratchet pointed out proudly. "I've gotten over it."

"Good for you! Okay, younglings, be back by 2000 hours. Don't be late."

"Yes, Appa."

They left quickly. "What was Sift talking about?" Arcee asked curiously. Ratchet shrugged the question off. "Come on. We've got two cycles to do what we like. Let's not waste it."

The park was really a small flat piece of ground, with the right side a playground, where the younger bots played, and the left, empty with benches on the sides, where retirees liked to while away their time. Ratchet dragged her and her brother over to the swings. She stared at the contraption warily.

"Me first!" Ratchet grinned at Prowl. "Okay."

Arcee frowned. "How does this work, exactly?"

Ratchet tried to explain. "You have to sit, and push off the ground - or somebody pushes you - and then you go up..."

Her frown deepened. "What if you fall off?"

"Look, you won't fall. It's perfectly safe. Look at them-" He pointed at a few sparklings, who were playing on the other swing. "It's safe." She didn't seem very convinced, but Prowl had already climbed onto the seat. Ratchet pulled him back and gave a small push, so that he wouldn't alarm the sparkling. Prowl's optics went wide as he soared into the air. Arcee watched nervously. Ratchet pushed him a second time. This time, the sparkling let out a whoop of joy. Arcee looked stunned. Ratchet smirked. "I told you."

After a while and a little bit of coaxing, Prowl agreed to let Arcee have a go. Eventually she figured out how to swing on her own, and Ratchet leaned back against the bars to watch. Her face was entertaining: it was smiling (involuntarily, apparently) while she climbed to the apex of her swing, then she bit her lips and braced herself for the swoop in her tanks as she crashed back down. He'd never seen her so happy. He guessed that Prowl hadn't either - at least, not in a long while - and he grinned widely every time Arcee smiled.

Keep her occupied? Check. Take that, Yoketron.

Leave a review if you like (or if you don't like!)