Bumblebee really enjoyed spending time with Arcee. Over the weeks of the Decepticons stay at Iacon, she was the one he hung out with the most. She was interesting and very friendly. She would smile and the conversations they would have was always interesting natural and light.

He enjoyed spending time with her, whether it was looking over datapads in the Iacon Hall of Records or racing, he enjoyed it. He had been surprised to find out that her favorite spot was at the glass gardens. She had explained that there was something about watching the light reflecting the crystals that calmed her.

It was reassuring to know that there was someone else out there, besides himself and Smokescreen, who was a bit wary about the Selection. Having a Decepticons perspective on the whole situation was interesting and it showed him that they were not so different except by the faction symbols on their arms.

When Bumblebee had been a youngling, he had been reluctant to make friends, especially, when he got older, with femmes. Somehow, Smokescreen had wiggled his way into Bumblebee's life and had become a true companion. But when he had meet Moonracer, he had been so surprised at how open and bubbly she was. It had been so easy to befriend her, that he had panicked for a moment and tried to scramble away from the friendship they were forming.

But after talking with Elita, who had assured him that yes, it was alright for him to be friends with a femme and yes it was alright to be close to her. Even call the feelings he had for her love. But it wasn't the love one would have for a mate. No, Bumblebee would come to learn that there were many forms of love. One was of friendship.

"I love Ultra Magnus," she had explained. "He has been my friend long before I met Optimus. But it was not the love I have for my mate." She had gently touched Bumblebee's face. "It is alright to love someone, it takes many forms."

He loved Smokescreen and he loved Moonracer. And at some point, he began to call the feeling he had for Arcee as love. Nothing more than the love one would feel for a very close friend.

He enjoyed seeing her laugh, rare as it was. She would smirk knowingly or give off one of those small smiles. But the times when she would truly smile and laugh made Bumblebee feel like he had accomplished something.

He transformed in front of the race track, hearing the sound of a familiar engine finishing a lap around the road. He smiled, noticing the blue alt form speeding toward him before transforming and landing with practiced grace.

"You started without me," he teased with a huff.

Arcee just grinned, her optics twinkling. "For a speedy bot, you do take your time."

"Fashionably late," he said simply. It had been an unspoken agreement between the two of them at what times to meet to race at the mostly empty track. They both loved the thrill of speed and the competition. On their first race, the one when Blur and Smokescreen had their famous competition, Bumblebee had noticed how quiet Arcee had been. She seemed to be tense, alert.

It did not go unnoticed by him how some bots were casually watching the few Decepticons in the race, the same with the Decepticons watching the Autobots. It became somewhat clear what was going on.

But here, when it was just the two of them, Arcee was suddenly head strong and competitive. She was not shy in the slightest, just quiet and watchful. She was vocal when she felt the need to speak up.

Arcee chuckled, but it wasn't a full laugh, much to his disappointment. "Or you were taking your time to prepare yourself," she said, striding forward with a subtle cockiness.

He raised an optic ridge. "Oh? Preparing myself for what?"

She was now standing right in front of him, her helm tilted back to stare into his optics. Were her optics always that bright?

"To lose," she said simply, jumping back and transforming, speeding off onto the track.

Bumblebee blinked, momentarily stunned before transforming and racing after her. The air was filled with the sounds of two engines racing up the ramps and down the roads. Because of her small form, Arcee was able to maneuver faster, but Bumblebee had been racing from the moment he could transform. It's what happens when he has fast friends like Smokescreen, Blur and Hot Rod.

Bumblebee took a sharp turn, passing Arcee before adding a burst of speed. He couldn't help but let out a victory laugh, though Arcee was not far behind him. Rather, she was just trying to past him.

He smirked. Oh she was good. But he was better. He swerved right, blocking her and preventing her from trying to pass.

There were many different roads on the track. Bumblebee and Arcee never took the long ones for intense racing. The racing they did was more for fun and never professional. Mostly it was just to see who was faster and the winner got to gloat until the next race. Usually, that was every two days as the loser always demanded a rematch.

And that was how they were both stuck in this little routine of theirs.

Bumblebee didn't even slow down when he transformed, leaping into the air before tucking into a roll, springing upward. He was breathing heavily, his spark hammering from the alderine and his smile was wide.

"Beat ya," he couldn't help but say, his optics scanning for Arcee.

"Nope, I call it a tie," she said suddenly at his side. His helm snapped to look at her from where she was kneeling in the ground.

He blinked. "What? There is no way that was a tie!"

She hummed. "Oh yes it was."

"Oh no it wasn't."

"Then I guess we'll have to race again," she said simply.

He folded his arms. "I guess we will."

They both stared at each other, neither one wanting to be the one to yield. But Bumblebee was never good at that. His doorwings twitched in amusement before he was chuckling.

"Just admit I won," Arcee said, striding up the tracks with Bumblebee at her side.

"I thought it was a tie," he pointed out.

"So you admit it was a tie," she said triumphantly.

He blinked. "I never said…"

"You admitted it," she said with a smirk.

He frowned. "Fine. It was a tie. Only because you didn't win," he said quickly.

She nudged his shoulder playfully. "Whatever helps you recharge at night, Bee."

"My nightlight and stacks of datapads do that for me," he said. He grinned at the look she gave him. "The last part is true though."

"I'm not surprised that you read so much," she said. "You're always in the Iacon Hall of Records."

"My guardians encouraged it," he said. All five of them, he thought silently.

She grinned. "Mine as well. Though he was more persistent with tactical advantages and military combat."

Bumblebee nodded thoughtfully. "He never really left the war, huh?"

"I suppose he never really did," she answered. "He still has a certain routine he goes through every day. And he passed that onto me. Sometimes he forgets that we are no longer fighting a war. It's like he is preparing for an attack that only he can see and understand." She frowned. "He is not the one to trust so easily."

Bumblebee was silent for a moment, mulling over what she had said. In many ways, he saw it in the war veterans in Iacon. From the scars, to their actions and words. He saw it in Optimus and Elita and in pretty much everyone in his life. Even sweet and soft spoken Red Alert seemed to be stuck in an endless roll of preparation, like she couldn't believe all the fighting was over. Or maybe she was mourning the love she had lost during the war. Maybe both.

It was hard to believe that he had been sparked during the war itself. That in a few years he would have been taught how to fight and kill; how to spy and survive. Would he have lived long enough? What horrors would he have faced, what would he have lost had Optimus and Megatron not come to a mutual agreement?

"I was…" he started slowly. "I was sparked during the war. Optimus Prime and Ironhide had found me." He was aware that Arcee was looking at him, paying attention to every word he was saying. "I don't know where I came from, only that I am happy and content with where I am. But I realize that had it not been for Optimus and Megatron, I might have been like them. Battle weary. Or maybe I wouldn't have lived long enough to become like that. We'll never know because of them."

Arcee was silent, her expression thoughtful. "Why are you doing this?" she asked. "Why are you in the Selection?"

They had left the track behind and were now entering a more civilized part of the city. Cybertronians were going about their business, at peace.

"Here," he said, gently pulling her toward him. "See that mother?" Arcee leaned against him, trying to see where he was pointing and he tried to ignore how his spark skipped at her touch.

"I see them," she said, noticing the orange Cybertronian with the two sparklings. At that moment, a mech approached the orange femme, making her smile when he wrapped his large arms around her slim waist. The two younglings chirped happily, their pure faces radiating trust and innocence. The father, his scarred and broken servos gantly caressed one younglings helm while his mate leaned against him, her wary optics watching her family with love.

"That is why I am in the Selection," Bumblebee said. "Because I want to keep that peace. I want those younglings to grow in a world where they do not need to fear war. I want to give them," he nodded to the mother and father. "A chance at peace and a life that had been taken from them." He paused. "And if...when I have a family of my own, I want them to be safe. That is why I am in the Selection."

Arcee was still leaning against him with his servos on her slim waist. They stayed like that, watching the family, both noticing how the father seemed to still be alert, watching his younglings like a scraplet to metal while his mate leaned in against him. Bumblebee could feel Arcee sigh, both their expressions thoughtful.

He tried to push the thought away, tried to ignore the very thought screaming at him that he was kinda, sorta...holding Arcee. Friends held each other like this all the time and had these strange pulses in their sparks with the sudden nervous feelings. It was normal.

Right?

"You look worn out," Moonracer said.

Arcee cracked a tired grin. "Wow, thanks for letting me know."

Moonracer hooked her arm through Arcee's, dragging her into the large lounge room. Ark trailed not too far behind, her steps measured and careful like the trained body guard she was.

The femme's lounge room was large and comfortable with seatings and open windows with a view of the glimmering, nice part of the city. No mechs were allowed in, not even Optimus Prime. It was open to the guests, the servants and the Selected. Arcee hadn't spent much time in the lounge room as doing so meant she had to socialize when she didn't want to. She didn't need a room dedicated for relaxing just to wind down! She could do that in her spacious berth room.

"You and Bee been racing?" Moonracer asked as she dragged Arcee to sit down on one of the large seats.

She hesitated, resting her helm on the headboared. "Yeah, we have. He's been really competitive." That, and they spent most of the time walking around the city. It was nice to walk around and hang out with someone she was starting to consider a friend. Bumblebee was open and friendly. He was considerate and never seemed to feel any negative thoughts about the situation he was in, something she really liked. She could almost ignore the constant presence of Ark and the occasional minicon flying overhead.

She wondered if the Autobot Heir went through the same surveillance as her. She wondered if she had passed him by in the halls before. Maybe Bumblebee knew him, yet didn't know him yet.

Her optics caught sight of a femme sitting right across from her seat, her posture straight and commanding respect. Arcee smirked. If she wasn't the Decepticon Heir, and if it hadn't been announced that the Autobot Heir was a mech, she would have believed that Firestar was the Heir. The femme was smart and regal in how she acted, almost mature and wise beyond her age. There were some who still believed that the announcements of the Heirs were a hoax and a cover up to hide who the real Heirs were. Which Arcee found ridiculous. It had been announced that the Autobot Heir was a mech, and the Decepticon Heir was a femme, plain and simple.

Now, if the announcement had come from Megatron, then she could see where some might think otherwise. But Optimus Prime himself had been the one to give the announcement, and she had heard it plenty of times from Megatron how his former brother couldn't lie to save his life.

She wasn't so sure about that, but she never said so.

But Firestar was a femme who knew what she was doing. And right now, she was staring at Arcee, her helm tilted like she was trying to figure her out. Arcee just smiled, letting the other femme know she had been caught staring.

"What do you think, Firestar?" a femme said suddenly, her voice piercing through Arcee's thoughts.

The red femme turned to face the speaker, her optics drifting upward as if in thought. "I'd have to say Ultra Magnus."

The femme gaged. "Ultra Magnus? Girl! He's like...older than you."

"You asked who you thought I found interesting," Firestar said calmly. "Not who I was interesting in." She crossed her legs. "Big difference."

"What's going on?" Arcee whispered, leaning into Moonracer.

"We sometimes have random discussions," Moonracer said simply. "Right now, it seems to be leaning toward what your type of mech is."

"He is regal and smart and has served at our Prime's side during the time of the war," Firestar was saying.

"Yeah, we get it," the other femme said. "You like the silent, stiff ones." Firestar bristled, but stayed silent.

"What about you, Moonracer?" Arcee asked softly so that the green femme would be the only one to hear. "Who are you interested in?" She was aware that such talk was dangerous. It wouldn't get them in trouble with anyone, but it could open some unwanted feelings. Setting yourself up for what might not be was bound to lead to disappointment. Like Firestar who might wind up with a loud Decepticon mech. With the Selection, you never really knew.

"Yeah Moonracer," the other femme piped up, causing Arcee to wince. She didn't think she had been loud when she asked the question. "Who are you interested in?"

Arcee sent Moonracer an apologetic look, but the green femme wasn't paying attention. Her shoulders were stiff and her servos were clasped together.

"Is it Bumblebee?" the femme asked, causing Arcee to stiffen up suddenly with a small frown.

Moonracer scoffed. "Please Windy. Bee is more like my brother than anything else."

Windy cocked her helm. "So would you guys form a brother-sister bond when the Selection is done with?"

Moonracer hesitated. "I don't know," she confessed. "We've always been close that I guess we never thought about it."

Arcee blinked. "Really?"

Moonracer shrugged. "Well, we'd have to go through the Selection first and all that."

"So," Windy said with a grin. "If it's not Bee, then who is it?"

"I think Mirage is an interesting mech," she said quickly. "He's...nice."

"A noble as well," Arcee cut in, noticing Moonracers discomfort. She could read body language very well and she had no intentions of making Moonracer uncomfortable.

"What about you, Arcee?" Firestar asked. "Who are you interested in?"

Windy perked up. "Yeah, let's see what you think."

What a Decepticon thinks, she couldn't help but silently say bitterly. Though she could see the silent challenge in Firestar's optics. No way was she going to let that femme get away with this silent stand-off.

She tilted her helm back, thinking. She had never been interested in the Decepticons, other than the time when she was a youngling and had a small fascination with Soundwave. One might even have called it a crush Did that count as being interested in someone? Yeah, it probably did. She hadn't been around the Autobots long to really make an assumption. The Twins were trouble, yet they were fun to be around. Smokescreen was nice and eager, if a bit of a show-off. And Bumblebee…

"I want them to be safe. That's why I am in the Selection."

Her optics widened ever so slightly, her thought process coming to a halt.

"No, I'm not interested in anyone at the moment," she said curtly, ignoring the triumphant look in Firestar's optics.

"Come here Bumblebee," Optimus said gently, holding his servo out.

Bumblebee slowly entered the room, noting how the chairs were out of place, as if someone had thrown them. He curled up in Optimus's arms, the warmth of the Prime's spark soothing to him.

"Is Mia mad?" he asked timedly.

Optimus sighed. "Yes, Mia is mad," he answered softly.

Bumblebee looked up. "At you?"

Optimus didn't look at him, his expression far away. "Yes, she is really mad at me right now."

"But why?" Bumblebee asked, sitting up. "Why is she mad at you?"

The words came out heavy, and full of guilt. "Because I...made a decision that she does not like. A decision that even I do not like."

"But if you do not like it, why'd you make it?"

Finally, Optimus looked down at the youngling in his arms. "I do not know. I...thought I was helping people. I thought that my decision would be the best hope for peace."

Bumblebee frowned. "Did it help people?"

Optimus hesitated, as if unsure. But Bumblebee shook that thought away. Optimus was never unsure about anything. "I hope so, Bumblebee," he said softly. "I hope so."

Bumblebee snuggled closer to his guardians spark chamber. "Then it must be a good decision."

Another memory was of Optimus silently begging Bumblebee for his forgiveness. At that age, he wasn't sure why Optimus was so distraught, only that he wanted to make Optimus feel better. So he told the Prime over and over again that it was alright, that he was forgiven for whatever sin he had committed. Optimus just held him close, and Bumblebee could feel the guilt washing over him from the Prime.

Bumblebee opened his optics, chasing away the memory. He stared up at the ceiling of his berth room, lost in thought.

He glanced over at the datapads that had failed to catch his interest and let out a small groan. He turned over, trying to fall back into recharge.

When that became pointless, he got up, trudging to a certain, hidden space in the wall that only he could find. Reaching in, he grabbed a worn out datapad. His servo knocked something over, casting a blue light in the dark space.

He stared at the Key Card, putting it back and out of sight. It had been one of the greatest gifts Optimus could have ever given him. It had once been the Prime's and he had given it to Bumblebee. He had treasured the Key Card he had been given, putting it away so he could look at oit and keep it safe.

He flipped through the data pad, coming to his favorite entry.

You wanted to know what I've been up to? Well, for starters, I'm in trouble. Apparently you cannot get away with ziplining without safety harnesses and other junk. Megatron had a fit when he found out about it. 'You're not a Seeker,' he says. 'I have no intentions of having to find a new Heir. You're one of a kind.' It was one of the rare moments he told me he loved me while yelling at me. It was a special day. Then Soundwave had to hide the ziplining stuff. But...I know where to find them anyway. When we meet, you and I will have to try it out. Don't worry, I promise it'll be safe.

What about you? I know you like to race and all that. Don't let Ironhide get to you with all that training. He sounds like he just want's the best for you, to keep you safe. It's the same way with my instructors.

Other then that, my life has been the way it always is. Normal, which is how I kinda like it. If normal means traveling around to different sights and new experiences, then I can't complain.

I look forward to hearing from you again.

He stared at the datapad thoughtfully. It was his favorite because he got a glimpse of who his future mate was. She was reckless and a daredevil. She loved her guardian and saw reason to certain situations. He had kept all the datapads she had sent him during their brief time of communication. He could never remember what he had said in reply to her messages, but he remembered what she wrote.

He understood why they had to stop writing to each other. Someone had nearly hacked into their messages and Optimus and Megatron had deemed it wise to put a stop to it. But he still kept her messages, to remind himself that she was just like him, that she was flawed and confused about the arrangement.

He sighed. Primus, she sounded so young. What was she like now? Was she still careless and spunky? Or was she mature and quiet?

He settled back down into his berth, closing his optics and letting the events of the day wash over him