Author's Note: Hey readers! I just wanted to say that there had been a glitch in the fanfiction system and that I had updated about a week ago on this story, but that you all might not have gotten a notification. Just wanted to let you know so that you didn't miss out on anything.
Arcee could only stare, her expression stoic as Starscream's speech about 'peace' and 'duty' droned on. It was not like she wasn't used to long meetings that failed to catch her interest. She just didn't enjoy them, especially ones that seemed to have no point. Starscream's speeches seemed to carry on more of a way to subtly glorify himself and remind the Autobots of the Decepticons might. A quick glance to her far left showed that Ironhide was itching to say something, which he would never get the chance to do so. Come to think of it, she had never seen the mech speak more than a few sentences at any of the formal gatherings. Given how brash he could be, she had to think that was a good thing.
She took in a breath, resisting the urge to shift. Behind her, she could feel Ark standing at attention. She mentally counted the time, realizing with a start that she had a while to go until the meeting was done with, unless someone claimed the floor without causing a fuss.
Somehow, she doubted Primus would be that merciful to her.
"So Arcee," a voice drawled through a private comm link.
She blinked, giving a small start. Megatron shot her a brief look as she regained her composure. Of course, only he would notice such a small movement when it came to her. She gave him a small nod, watching as he returned his attention to Starscream.
"We were wondering if you would be so generous as to-"
"No," another voice cut in. "Whatever it is, leave her out of it."
"Aw, come on Smokes," the voice whined. "You're no fun."
"I'm smart enough to know that you two are up to no good," the other voice snapped, the one she recognized as Smokescreen.
She frowned. "How did you know how to contact me?" she sent.
"We have our ways," the voice said mischievously.
Her frown deepened. "Who is this?"
"Why, Sides! I think the little lady wants to know who we are!"
"Hmm, I think that would be a bad idea, don't you think Sunny?"
"Don't call me Sunny," the other voice snapped, suddenly annoyed.
"That's enough you two," Smokescreen snapped. "You're going to compromise us! We're in the middle of a meeting!"
"Uh huh, like you weren't grateful for the distraction." But the connection was cut, leaving Arcee befuddled and confused.
"Who was that?" she inquired before Smokescreen could cut the connection.
"The Troublesome Twins," Smokescreen answered. "Good company, bad influence. That's the best warning I could give you."
"Who?" a different voice asked. "Sunny and Sides?"
She smiled. "Hey Bee."
"Hey Cee," he chirped back, causing her to blink in surprise. Cee? Where had that come from?
Smokescreen groaned. "Yep, the Twins," he said. "They were wanting to know Prowl's newest schedule. One could only guess why."
"Why?" Arcee found herself asking before she could stop herself. This wasn't professional, she was supposed to be paying attention to what was going on in the meeting that she barely even knew what was about. Yet, she couldn't help herself. Just a few minutes, she told herself.
"After only knowing the Twins for a short time," Bumblebee said. "You kind of have to figure out real quick that they're pranksters."
"And how'd they know to contact me?" she asked. Her optics were drawn to the yellow figure down on the far side of the large meeting room table. Bumblebee looked as if he was engrossed with whatever Starscream was saying, his gaze never leaving the seeker. But Arcee could see how his optics were glazed over and how his doorwings twitched so suddenly, as if in amusement.
"Who knows how the Twins are able to do what they do," he replied.
"They are a mystery not worth solving," Smokescreen supplied. "Though I am grateful for the distraction. This was boring me to tears."
Bumblebee chuckled. "I was about ready to count the tile on the ceiling."
"Already did," Smokescreen said smugly.
"You did not!" Bumblebee exclaimed in disbelief.
"Forty-thousand two hundred and ninety three and counting," came the oh so smart reply.
There was sudden silence on both ends, and Arcee barely repressed a snort.
"You're bluffing," came Bumblebee's reply.
"Am I? Am I really?"
"Hey guys," came back the unwanted voice. "Wanna hear a joke?"
"No!" Arcee shouted along with Smokescreen.
"Yes!" Bumblebee exclaimed.
"Bee!" Smokescreen shouted. "That's not a-"
"What is easy to get into, but hard to get out of?" Sideswipe asked, plowing on and ignoring Smokescreens protests.
There was a brief moment of silence. "Uh, Sides," Bumblebee started. "That's a riddle, not a joke."
"Just answer the question. What is easy to get into but hard to get out of?"
"We are going to be in so much trouble," Smokescreen muttered.
"That is correct!" Sideswipe cheered. "Now it is your turn Smokes. Got a riddle?"
"Wait, what?" sputtered Smokescreen. "I don't have a-"
"Tick tock tick tock," sang Sunny, causing Arcee to grin against her will.
"Um, what's bigger than you but doesn't weigh anything?" Smokescreen asked suddenly.
There was a tense moment of silence and Arcee could see Bumblebee frowning in concentration. "If you're in space with no density, wouldn't that be whatever is around you?" Bumblebee asked.
"The riddle wasn't meant for something like that," Smokescreen answered with a sigh. "And it's your shadow."
"Dude," groaned Sunny. "That's like the most boring riddle ever."
"What? No it wasn't! And you didn't give me time to prepare for a riddle anyway."
"Riddles are meant to have punch lines that make you laugh."
"Not really."
"What building has the most stories?" Arcee asked suddenly.
"Oh, the lady's getting in the game," Sideswipe said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. "I don't know, tell me."
"Just because you're clueless doesn't mean we are," Smokescreen snapped. "Let us try and guess."
"Library," Bumblebee said suddenly.
"Bee," Sunstreaker said. "She said 'building with most stories,' not-"
"Actually," Arcee said with a grin. "He's right."
"You cheated!" Sunstreaker exclaimed. "I don't know how, but you did. How could you have come up with the answer so fast?"
"It's one of Elita's favorite riddles," he answered simply and Arcee could have sworn that he sounded quiet smug.
"What is brown and sticky?" Sideswipe asked suddenly.
Arcee frowned. "Brown and sticky?"
"Stumped?" Sideswipe asked.
She scowled. "No."
"It can't be a type of energon, unless you two have been getting into things we don't know about," Smokescreen said.
"Well, it's not like we would ever tell you, would we?" Sunstreaker asked slyly.
"I have decided that I don't want to know," Bumblebee said.
"Give up?" Sideswipe asked. "It's a stick! Get it? Brown and sticky? Huh, huh?"
Arcee could hear a sudden coughing fit from someone not too far from her and it was then she noticed Smokescreen straightening up at the looks he was getting. She could see the twinkle in his optics though as he hid his laughter with small coughs. "Brilliant!" Smokescreen said.
"Really?" Sideswipe asked, dubious.
"Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it, you'll die. What is it?" Bumblebee asked.
"Scrap," Smokescreen grumbled.
"Meh, this is boring," Sunstreaker said suddenly.
"Yeah," Sideswipe said. "Let's get back to work."
"Work?" Bumblebee asked. "You two never work! What are you doing?" But his questions went unanswered when the Twins cut the connection.
"Freedom?" Smokescreen asked suddenly.
"What?" Bumblebee asked.
"Your riddle. Is it freedom?" he repeated.
"But you can't consume freedom," Arcee pointed out.
"But certain freedoms could get you killed."
"But you still can't eat it!"
"Freedom is not the answer," Bumblebee said.
After a few more minutes of trying to guess the riddle, which included a few crazy suggestions on both Arcee and Smokescreens part, Bumblebee got bored. "Alright," he said finally. "You both get two more guesses before I tell you the answer."
Arcee grumbled under her breath, racking her mind for an answer that made sense. "Sparklings?" she asked with no hope.
She could hear Bumblebee sputter. "What?"
"Never mind," she grumbled. "I just realized what a stupid answer that was."
"Yeah," Smokescreen piped up. "Who would eat sparklings?"
"Oh shut up."
"The answer is nothing," Bumblebee sighed.
"Hey!" Smokescreen exclaimed. "I still had a turn!"
"Well you both were so pathetic that it was too painful for me to go on," he answered. "I didn't want you to suffer anymore."
"Well it's nice to know you have such faith in my abilities," Smokescreen huffed. "I'm outta here."
"I would have guessed that," Arcee teased.
"Sure you would have," Bumblebee said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She chuckled, doing her best to stifle it.
"I'll talk to you later," she said. "But right now, it's a bit...dangerous."
"Oh? So I'm dangerous?"
She rolled her optics. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Never. I've got you for that."
She blinked, cutting off the connection in her surprise. She straightened up, focusing her attention on Starscream. It had been fun for the brief moments it had lasted, but now she needed to pay attention and at least think and act like the Heir that she was.
"So you want to head to the track?" Smokescreen asked, striding toward Bumblebee.
He grinned, rolling his shoulders. "You know it," he said. "I'm ready for a race. Besides, we need to get out of here before whatever the Twins were doing get us in trouble."
Smokescreen smiled. "With all those twists and turns and flips to impress the crowd."
Bumblebee's smile turned into a frown. "Crowd? What crowd?"
He shrugged. "The ones that Blur invited."
Bumblebee narrowed his optics. "Why do I get the feeling that you had something to do with it?"
His friend shrugged. "Hey, it was all on Mirage. He suggested it. And what's so bad about Cybertronians watching the fun, non competitive race?"
"Everything's a competition when it comes to you and Blur," Bumblebee stated.
Smokescreen frowned. "He started it," he grumbled. "And don't act like you're not competitive too."
"Whatever," Bumblebee said with a sigh, though he didn't bother to deny it. Yes, he was competitive and he enjoyed the thrill of a race. "So the race is on?"
Arcee observed the dirt track in front of her. Though it wasn't used for professional racing, it was still an impressive sight. It stretched on in a few twisting turns with a ramp up in the distance. She couldn't see any farther than that, but the anticipation was suddenly there and alive.
She loved the thrill of speed. She loved pushing her limits and seeing how fast she could go and the feeling of taking flight. She had to wonder if that was how Seekers felt when they flew. She would feel the wind and air rush past her and how she would sometimes leave the ground for a split moment when she was going too fast. The thrill was there, as was the fun and recklessness.
"Would you like to scout it out?" Moonracer asked, standing beside her. "Get a feel of the track?"
Arcee frowned, still gazing at the track. "I would, but do I have time?"
Moonracer pursed her mouth in a grim line. "Probably not. We'll be starting soon."
"Then I'll just have to wing it." She didn't like going in unprepared. But this wasn't politics. It was fun. She had nothing but her dignity to lose, and she had no intentions of crashing and burning.
"Well, my suggestion is not to come in fourth," Moonracer said, leaning in. "There are a group of...Bots here who will be watching and judging you on your performance."
Arcee's frown deepened. "Why just my performance? I thought this was just a harmless game."
"It is," Moonracer said. "But it won't be just you they'll be watching." She nodded to a Decepticon who Arcee recognized but did not know by name. Then it became clear what Moonracer was trying to say.
"They'll be...watching you because you are a Decepticon on Autobot territory. This," Moonracer gestured to the track. "Is Autobot turf. And while your performance shouldn't matter much, it's best to be safe. You know," she shrugged. "Just in case."
Arcee understood. She was a Decepticon. They would be trying to study and see if she was worth being a member of the Selection. Now it was politics. Or was it? Did a simple race really matter in the long run? So what if she lost? Would anyone really remember?
Her gaze went to a red mech standing nearby. Mirage; a noble born. He might remember and considering how he felt about the Selection made her rethink her thoughts on the race and how she presented herself. Her optics flickered over to another figure. There was Firestar, an Autobot Selected femme. While she wasn't unfriendly, she did look at the Decepticons with wariness.
Names and figures went by, and suddenly, Arcee saw it all laid out in front of her. It was like a battle, one that she and Soundwave would play. She couldn't win, though the odds of her coming in first place were very slim. But she couldn't flunk it. The Decepticon reputation was suddenly there.
"Would third place work?" she asked.
Moonracer looked at her, tilting her helm. "Most certainly. But maybe you could sit this one out?"
No way was she doing that because a group of stuck up Autobots wanted to judge her. "Or maybe you and I could scout it out," she said, slipping out of the crowd.
She hadn't really expected Moonracer to follow her, but the femme surprised her. "I have a better idea," she said, grabbing Arcee's arm. "I'll give you a thorough map. It should at least give you a feeling of the layout, that way you won't be caught by surprise."
Arcee smiled, slightly surprised. "Thank you," she said, following the femme. "Will you be racing?"
Moonracer hesitated. "No, not this time." Her optics flickered for a moment. "Maybe the next race."
"I'll look forward to it," she said genuinely.
Moonracer smiled as she passed a datapad to Arcee. "The track is open at all times, so missing out is no big deal."
"Except now there's a crowd," she pointed out.
Moonracer shrugged. "Well, yes. There's that. But that's because Blur and Smokescreen have been at it for a while, and it's always entertaining to see them duke it out."
Arcee smirked. "I'll bet."
"Arcee! You racing?" Bumblebee shouted, coming forward. It was hard to miss him in the crowd with his bright yellow paint job. It was a cheerful color that made him stand out, much like his personality.
Arcee raised an optic ridge, placing a servo on her hip. "Of course I am. Are you?"
Bumblebee's optics sparked at the silent challenge. "Wouldn't miss it." He looked like he was going to say more, but he was interrupted by Mirage.
"Bumblebee," he greeted. "What will we be expecting from you?" His tone had a slight teasing note to it as he regarded the other mech.
Bumblebee just shrugged. "Don't know. We'll have to see what Smokes and Blur will do, then I'll improvise so I'll stand out."
You already do, Arcee thought silently, but she said nothing. The two mechs drifted away, leaving the two femmes alone once again. "A noble born who is not part of the Selection," Moonracer said, though there was no scorn in her voice. Only intrigue and a bit of...disappointment?
"Yes," Arcee said, not looking up from the datapad she was now scanning. "It is a wonder that he was not chosen."
"He's a good mech," Moonracer said quickly. "Very noble and considerate."
"Some might say he's stuck up," Arcee said, slowly looking up to subtly study the other femme.
Moonracer shrugged. "Not really. Only those who don't know him say that." She gestured to the datapad. "Will this help?"
Arcee looked back down at the datapad in her servos. "Yes, just a bit." She sighed. "Politics and factions need to mess up everything."
"Or throw a wrench in it," Moonracer said with a smirk. "It's an inside joke for the Autobots," she explained at Arcee's raised optic ridge. "When we were younglings, Ratchet would whack us with the wrench if we misbehaved during our check-ups. He still does, but 'throwing a wrench' has become another inside joke because of him."
She placed a servo on Arcee's shoulder. "And hey, it's all for fun anyway. I can guarantee you that none of this will even matter in the long run. It's all harmless and good fun. I only told you about this because I thought it would be a good heads up."
Arcee grinned, handing the datapad back to Moonracer. "And you were right. Thank you." She rolled her shoulders, spark beating faster at the anticipation. "So, when does the race start?"
Author's Note: I do not own the riddles, nor did I come up with them. Just throwing that out there.