Arcee grumbled under her breath as she shifted through the datapads at the table. Picking one up, she began to read. But barely a minute passed before the words began to blur together, and the information she was supposed to be gathering didn't even make it through her procesor. She sighed, sitting back in her chair and looking around at the large Iacon building. Kicking her feet absent-mindedly, she reached for her comm link.
"Mirage," she said as a way of greeting.
"Not even on the list," the voice replied in amusement. "And hello to you too."
She smiled. "You finished the meeting?" she asked, tilting her helm back.
"It was delayed, so no," Megatron said, and she could hear the frustration in his voice. "We have not even started."
She frowned. "Delayed? Why?"
"When I meet with Optimus, which should be any minute, I'll ask him," Megatron answered.
Arcee nodded to herself. She was silent, content with just listening to Megatron. "You're avoiding something," Megatron said, and she could tell he was grinning.
Arcee grimaced. "No, not really. I'm just stuck on the subject on 'scraplets'."
"Scraplets?"
"I lost a bet," she explained. "I have to do a study on scraplets and present it to a group of younglings."
"Teaching young Cybertronians about scraplets," Megatron mused. "And you haven't thought about asking Soundwave?"
"He won't help me," she said. "Something about me cheating on this little game of ours." She paused. "In my defense, he didn't lay any ground rules when we started."
She heard Megatron chuckle. "Arcee," he started. "If Soundwave does not want you finding out about those in the Selection, then you'll never find anything."
"He's let me find a few," she said. Because as much as it irked her to admit it, she knew that she could never break through Soundwave's defenses. Her hacking skills were no match for the Decepticon spy-master. She knew he had only let her succeed in receiving a small portion of the list of those in the Selection, only because he felt sorry for her and wanted an opponent. "So far, I've eliminated the possibilities down to twenty-seven."
"Only twenty-seven Selected Autobot mechs?" Megatron asked.
Arcee frowned, sitting up. "There's more?"
Megatron hummed. "There would have to be an equal amount of mechs and femme Autobots for the Selected Decepticons. But that would depend on those who would bother to stay in the long run."
Arcee nodded to herself. "True. But the twenty-seven I've found are those close to Prime."
"Then I'm sure you'll find your future mate among the twenty-seven," Megatron said simply. "Shouldn't be too hard for you."
Arcee growled. "Megatron-"
"I believe the meeting is about to start," he interrupted. "Besides, I would hate to keep you from your interesting...study."
Arcee sighed when he cut the connection, staring back at her gathered datapads. Sitting up from her seat, she walked around the room, scanning the shelves. Her optics were dim with boredom when a flash of color caught her optic. She looked up to see a familiar yellow mech carrying a stack of datapads.
Frowning, she walked over to him. "Bumblebee?" she started, hoping she got the name right.
The mech looked up at the sound of his name, his optics falling on her. He frowned, as if trying to remember her name. "Arcee, right?" he asked.
She nodded with a smile, glad to have the escape from her 'studies.'. "I have to say, I was not expecting to see you walking around as a free mech after last night."
He chuckled. "Prowl was surprisingly merciful last night. Our minor punishments are...minor."
"And your punishment is sorting through datapads?" she asked, nodding at the stack he was carrying.
He groaned. "Yes! Honestly, I can not believe Optimus did all this for a living before the war. It is such a pain! And the worse part is that the archivists will come in and tell me what I did wrong and have me resort the whole shelf!" He paused. "Alright, I guess my punishment is not so minor." He stopped, noticing the datapad she was carrying. "You studying scraplets?" he asked, cocking his helm. He looked confused, as to why anyone would want to study such a creature.
She grimaced. "Yeah," she said.
He grinned. "May I ask you why?"
"I lost a bet," she explained. "So I have to do a study on scraplets and present it to a bunch of younglings."
Bumblebee blinked. "And may I ask you what the bet was?"
"No, you may not," she said. She sighed. "Bottom line is, I have nothing to present, and everything is due tomorrow."
Bumblebee chuckled. "I think the point is just to humiliate you."
"Oh it is," she said with a goan.
Bumblebee set the datapads down. "Can a offer some suggestions?" he asked.
Arcee frowned, cocking her helm. "Sure." Whatever he had to offer had to at least be something more than what she had dug up so far.
He gestured for her to follow him to a certain part of the shelves in the room. "I do not know much," he confessed. "But I do know that scraplets, according to legend and lore, were the creations of Leige Maximo."
She frowned, interested. "The deceiver?" She paused. "Actually, that does make sense."
He shrugged. "I guess. But it is only legend. But you could put some interesting facts in there."
She glanced at him. "I'm sure I could come up with something that will entertain the younglings."
Bumblebee grinned, a mischievous glint in his optics. "You could always present the younglings with a scraplet."
Arcee stopped, slowly staring at him in shock before realizing he was only joking. "I'm sure that will go over well with the teachers," she commented, the very image disturbingly funny.
He shrugged. "It would make the whole study much more interesting." Arcee found it a bit amusing how the conversation of a creature so deadly could be taken so lightly. She had never really seen a scraplet before, except for that one incident when Soundwave and Barricade had come running into her room when she was a sparkling once. They had scooped her up and ran out of the building while Megatron went in with blasters blazing. She had tried to see the smoking remains of the scraplet, but she had simply been marched out of her room. It was the only time she had ever seen Megatron so terrified. Even Soundwave looked uneasy.
"When it comes to scraplets," Bumblebee said, jolting out of her thoughts. "There is never just one. They always come in packs. They send in the scouts first to find the meal, before the rest of them swarm in on their prey."
She grimaced. "Much like an army," she commented, her mind already coming up with ways to present it to the younglings.
He nodded. "It does seem that way. However, once they catch sight of any metal, they become like mindless beasts, and all they can think about is their next meal."
She glanced at him. "It sounds like you had your own personal experience."
"Primus, no," Bumblebee exclaimed, startled. "But I've heard stories from one of my guardians, and he is adamant about things like that." He paused, glancing up. "I never thought I would be studying about scraplets with anyone," he confessed.
Arcee chuckled. "It's a strange world we live in," she said. "Though I do enjoy this change in scenery."
Bumblebee looked at her with curiosity. "You are not from around here?"
Arcee inwardly braced herself. She knew Bumblebee was an Autobot from the mark on his shoulder, and she was wondering just how he would react to her being a Decepticon. Not that she was ashamed or shy at who she was, but she enjoyed Bumblebee's company despite only knowing him for a short while. "I am from Kaon," she answered simply, casually watching for his reaction.
Instead, Bumblebee looked interested. "Really? I've visited Kaon a few times." She could detect the pride in his voice. Travel was hard these days, and only a select few could travel to different cities. For Bumblebee to go to Kaon meant that he was of some nobility.
"It is quite lovely...at times," Arcee said. She did not need to say there were still parts of Kaon that was not safe for anyone to go to. Megatron was very clear on where she was to go, and Soundwave and Ark made sure she obeyed. Not that she would ever disobey Megatron. He was skilled in what he did and never did anything without good reason. She trusted his judgement and understood that he had more wisdom than her. If he said she should tread carefully, then she would tread carefully.
"So what brings you to Iacon?" Bumblebee asked. "The sights? The ever present noise?" His tone was light and teasing. For some reason, Arcee took it as a playful challenge.
"The politics," she said with a grin.
Bumblebee blinked, not expecting that answer. "You are a politician?"
She braced herself again. He might not care that she was a Decepticon, but Cybertronians seemed to change their attitude when they found out that she was a Selected. "Something like that," she said slowly.
She could see the gears working in Bumblebee's head, before his bright blue optics widened. "You're a Selected," he said softly.
"Yep," she said slowly.
His smile softened. "So am I."
Now it was Arcee's turn to be surprised. She had never met a Selected Autobot before, and she couldn't deny that she was curious. "Really?" she asked, her voice rising. When she received glares from nearby Cybertronians for the noise, she lowered her voice. "How?"
His optics twinkled. "Well, I was a sparkling when the great Optimus Prime chose me to-"
"Okay, okay, I get it," she interrupted, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I meant…" She trailed off. "Actually, I don't know what I meant."
He shrugged good naturally. "That's fine. I'm used to it." He eyed her. "And I have no doubt that you are too."
She rolled her optics. "You have no idea. Sometimes I feel as if I am being observed, as if being a Selected has made me a different creature."
"I never quite felt that way," Bumblebee said thoughtfully. "I just feel as if everyone's perspective of me changes, like they feel sorry for me."
She frowned. "Why would they feel sorry for you? Is it because you're bonding to a Decepticon?" She tried not to feel insulted, she really did, but it wasn't working.
He shrugged. "I guess that's what some think. But most others just feel sorry for the fact that there are things in life already chosen out for me. Some might view it as a terrifying part in life, bonding with someone you do not know."
Arcee frowned thoughtfully. Truth be told, she had been more annoyed then terrified. But what Bumblebee said had some truth for her. Her annoyance was just a cover up of how uncertain she was about the whole arrangement. There were things in her life she could control, such as when she awoke or went into recharge. But she could not control the most important moment in her life; finding a mate. Finding someone who she would share the rest of her life with. Finding someone who would be inside her head and no everything about her and where she was and what she was doing-Yikes!
"But I suppose it's not as terrifying as facing scraplets," Bumblebee said suddenly, holding out a datapd. Arcee grinned, knowing he was trying to lighten up the mood. And with that, the conversation returned to scraplets.
By the time they had gathered as much datapads as they could find, Arcee would find herself wondering how they had gone from the subject of scraplets, to talking about the races.
"Will you be coming tonight at the Hut?" she asked, speaking about the races.
Bumblebee frowned. "The Hut?"
"The name of the hangout," she clarified. She hadn't really been going there long, but it helped her to relax and escape. It was also a place where she could practice her skills; such as racing, shooting and scouting. It was all in friendly games and casual competition. But, she was always accompanied by her protector, Ark.
Bumblebee frowned. "I am not sure. I would like to, but it depends on if I can finish up my work in time." He looked at her. "What exactly goes on there?"
Arcee was silent for a moment, not sure how to explain it. She shrugged. "It's just a hangout, really. There are tracks for racing, and sometimes everyone gets together to play 'Territory'."
Bumblebee cocked his helm. "'Territory'?" he repeated.
She nodded, optics alight with excitement. "Yes. You have two teams who have to guard a different 'territory' and a certain object. If the other team steals the object from another team, that team wins. Make sense?"
Bumblebee looked uncertain. "I...guess so?"
She shook her helm. "You will have to come down and see it for yourself, it's really fun."
Bumblebee grinned. "Maybe I will."
"Bumblebee!" a sudden voice exclaimed.
The yellow Cybertronian jumped to his pedes, gathering a few datapads in his servos. "Nearly finished, sir," he spoke quickly, his helm held high. "I was just assisting this femme with a current project she is working on."
The mech who had demanded Bumblebee's attention narrowed his optics. But then he glanced at Arcee, and his optics softened. "I am pretty sure this lovely young femme truly needed your help on the study of scraplets. They are a unique creation of Primus's and must be studied to better understand them. It is an easy subject to study on."
"To you, maybe," Bumblebee grumbled for Arcee to hear, who grinned.
"However," the mech continued, not hearing Bumblebee's grumbling. "One must be guided by a professional, such as myself."
"Oh, I'm sure," Bumblebee muttered. But the mech heard that last part and glared at Bumblebee, who straightened up with an apologetic look.
"Why don't you finish up on the task Prowl had given you," the mech said. "I will assist the femme."
"That's alright," Arcee said hastily, getting up. "I'm finished anyway." She looked up at Bumblebee with a grin. "See you tonight at the races." She shook her finger at him. "That's an order." And with that, she quickly left, carrying her notes and datapads.
"You want us to go back?" Smokescreen demanded, raising an optic ridge.
Bumblebee shrugged. "We just tell Optimus where we're going, and we'll be fine."
Smokescreen frowned. "You sure about that?"
Bumblebee's steps faltered. "Um...maybe?"
Smokescreen sighed, looking upwards as if asking for mercy. "Come on!" Bumblebee said with excitement. "Don't tell me you didn't have at least a little bit of fun!"
"Sure, because the last few minutes of hiding from our guardians was so much 'fun'," Smokescreen grumbled.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Bumblebee said quickly. "I can go by myself-"
"Oh no! I'm going with you," Smokescreen exclaimed. "Some has got to keep you out of trouble."
Bumblebee frowned. "Since when do I get into trouble?" he demanded.
"Ever since you meet Hot Rod," Smokescreen joked, nudging his friend playfully. "What brought on this topic of conversation anyway?"
Bumblebee hesitated. "I...saw Arcee again," he said.
Smokescreen frowned, trying to remember the femme. "Arcee?" he asked.
"The blue femme we met back at the Hut," Bumblebee said.
"The Hut?"
"The name of the place we went to," Bumblebee deadpanned.
"Oh," Smokescreen nodded. "So you saw Arcee?"
"Yeah," he said. "Anyway, she said we should come by sometime. Literally ordered me to come tonight."
Smokescreen shrugged. "I guess when a femme orders you to do something, you got to do it."
Optimus rested his helm in his servos, closing his optics for a brief moment. Yes, he was worn and tired. His meeting with Megatron had been delayed, which had been an embarrassment. Prowl had nearly glitched at how disorganized everything was, and Optimus had to agree with him on that. But, thankfully, Megatron seemed to have been in good spirits. He hid it well, but Optimus had known Megatron before the war. He could see the way his shoulders were relaxed, and how his optics shimmered, as if he knew something amusing. Over the years, Optimus had seen a change come over Megatron's personality. He was patient, and calm. They were small changes, but they were changes nevertheless. Countless pleading and battles had done nothing to sway Megatron's way of thinking. But all it took was one helpless sparkling to change all that. A sparkling, whom Optimus had watched grow into a suitable, mature femme.
He could feel Elita reach out to him over their bond, worry and comfort all in that tangle of emotions. Optimus welcomed her presence, and he loved how the warm presence in his mind helped ease the worries.
A soft knock on the door pulled him away from his thoughts. He looked up with a smile, sensing the familiar spark signature. "You do not need to knock," he reminded.
A yellow helm poked through the door, wearing a sheepish grin. "Sorry. But it's polite."
Optimus chuckled. "What can I do for you, Bumblebee?" he asked, getting up from his seat.
Bumblebee shrugged, looking at Optimus. "It can wait. Are you alright?"
He could feel the wave of concern and worry the yellow Cybertronian had, and it touched him deeply. At that moment, his day became a little more bearable. "Yes, I am," he said. "Thank you for asking."
Bumblebee nodded, settling down into one of the chairs. "So how did the meeting go?" he asked innocently. Bumblebee had recently became interested in politics and anything that had to do with the Decepticons. And Optimus understood the curiosity. Mostly what went on in politics had to deal with those that were Selected. Many dropped out, for fear and anger at what was being done. But others like Smokescreen stayed out of loyalty, wanting to support the Autobot Heir, whoever he may be.
"As well as can be expected," he replied, looking through the files on his desk. "Arrangements have been made for Megatron and the Decepticons stay."
Bumblebee frowned. "I figured as much."
"Oh," Optimus said, tilting his helm. "And why is that?"
Bumblebee shrugged. "I met a Selected Decepticon. I thought it a bit odd that she would be so far away from Kaon. But then I remembered this meeting you were having." He looked up at Optimus. "But why do they need to stay here?"
"With those Selected to stay here, the hope is that you will all meet on friendlier terms," Optimus said.
Bumblebee's mouth twitched, a sign that he was trying not to smile. "And to hopefully spark romantic interests between the Selected Bots and Cons, huh?"
Optimus also grinned. "That was the intended idea, yes."
"Who suggested it?" he asked.
"Starscream."
"Right."
Optimus tilted his helm, gazing at Bumblebee as they fell into comfortable silence. After a certain amount of years, the whole idea of the Selection hadn't become real to Bumblebee. It was still there, and he took it seriously. But it was, in a way, normal for him. Bumblebee was never uncomfortable when he talked about his betrothal in front of Optimus and the others. Though Optimus could sense the uncertainty in him, and the tampered down fear from time to time. It was also added by the fact that he didn't even know who he was bonding with. For safety measures, it was decided that no one was to know who the Heirs were. Not even the Heirs themselves.
"Will, huh...she be here?" Bumblebee asked slowly.
Optimus nodded, subtly watching Bumblebee's expression. "Yes, she will be." He was well aware of who she was.
Bumblebee nodded, his helm bobbing up and down. "Good, good. Of course she would be." Silence stretched on, and Optimus patiently waited for Bumblebee to continue.
"Will I know her when I see her?" he asked.
Optimus smiled kindly. "I am afraid not," he answered.
"That's fine," Bumblebee said quickly, getting up. "I mean...it's alright. Safety and everything."
Optimus frowned, concerned. "Bumblebee…"
"Optimus," he interrupted. "I understand. It's not only for my safety, but for the safety of everyone else who is a Selected." There was genuine understanding and acceptance in those optics, a look that was far too old for someone so young.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Bumblebee said suddenly. "Smokescreen and I were wondering if we could go down to the Hut. It's this place where-"
"I am well aware of the hangout," Optimus said. He was also well aware that Bumblebee was trying to change the topic of conversation. And he allowed it to slide...for now. "Prowl informed me of everything that occured last night."
Bumblebee winced, his doorwings lowering.
"Please, don't ever feel like you have to sneak out again," Optimus said. "It's less paperwork for me to fill out."
Bumblebee grinned. "Thank you, Optimus. And yes, I will."
Optimus knew Prowl would disagree with him allowing the two out and about. But Optimus trusted Bumblebee. He also understood that the Hut was a safe and friendly place. When he had first heard of it, Optimus had used all his resources to look the place up. He hadn't stopped until he was satisfied with his findings. The archivist in him had insisted on the research.
Frowning, he reached for his comm link once Bumblebee was gone. "Jazz? I would request your presence in my office." Jazz would be more for protection than anything else. And if Bumblebee saw Jazz at the Hut, well, the silver Autobot was known to enjoy fun every so often. But once Jazz deemed it safe, then yes, Optimus will pull him back and allow Bumblebee to have his time alone.