Author's Note: To answer Commander Prima's question, the characters at the end of the last chapter are all from the Transformers TV show and comics. I had to research them for this story and I am so lucky I stumbled upon them. Thank you readers so much for your reviews!

I do not own Transformers.

They were silent as they made their way back to the party, the bustling noise reaching her audio receptors. They had stayed up in Bumblebee's secret hideout for a good long while, just talking. It was relaxing just to be herself and speak freely with Bumblebee. She found that she could do that whenever she was around him. His presence was warm and welcoming, drawing her in. She could only wonder how someone could remain so optimistic in the midst of all this confusion and uncertainty. But it was something she wanted to be near, something she wanted to stay with.

These thoughts traveled with her as they walked down the empty halls, the sounds of their pede steps the only noise.

The sound of music could be heard, causing her to come to a stop. Bumblebee noticed and stopped as well, frowning at her in confusion. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She hesitated, shaking her helm. "It's...not really important," she started. She noticed Bumblebee's understanding and open optics and she found herself speaking. "There's music, which means there's dancing and I don't feel like dancing with...mechs I don't know."

Understanding dawned in Bumblebee's face, his optics twinkling as he smiled. "You might be surprised to find that I understand," he said, taking her servo and leading her in a different direction. "I'll show you a place where you can hide out, but still hear everything. After all, the music is really nice."

She was glad to follow him and away from the tiring night she would have been subjected to. The halls were lit with low lights, casting shadows around them. Bumblebee led her into an empty room, this time, the only light coming from the large, floor to ceiling windows. She could hear the sound of the music a lot more clearly, almost as if she was standing right outside the doorway to the party. It was unnerving, yet she trusted Bumblebee to lead her to a safe place to where they wouldn't be seen.

The thought of being caught did occur to her, yet she was not as bothered by it. There was nothing to hide. Not as before though, like when she and Bumblebee had been hiding on that shelf. That thought caused her face to grow warm for some reason. She remembered how his spark pulsed, almost reaching out to hers. The memory of his servos around her waist came back, like a phantom. She blinked her optics, trying to calm herself by taking in deep, steadying breaths.

"You okay?" Bumblebee asked, his voice pulling her back.

She stared at him, remembering where she was. "Yes, I am," she answered, wrapping her arms around herself in silent comfort, trying to keep her mind clear. She looked up. "How close are we to the ballroom?"

He grinned. "Actually, the reason we can hear everything so clearly is because of the way this place was built." He shrugged. "That's all I can tell you because I never really understood how it all works." He suddenly smiled. "So, you can't dance?"

"I can dance," she said quickly.

"So you don't like to dance," he said simply.

"No! I love dancing," she defended.

"You probably step on everyone's pedes," he continued with a playful smirk. "It's fine, I know plenty of bots with two left pedes. And there is no shame in running and hiding from a waltz-"

She cut him off by roughly grabbing his servos, pulling him forward and forcing him to hold her close. She then followed the beat to the music that she could clearly hear, dancing as she had been taught.

Bumblebee blinked, startled. But he hesitantly placed his servos on her waist, leading in the dance once he overcame his shock. "What happened to you not dancing?" he asked.

She tilted her helm up to meet his optics. "As I said before, I do dance and I love it. I just don't like dancing with mechs I don't know."

He raised an optic ridge. "So what does that make me?"

"You are no stranger," she said as Bumblebee gently twirled her around to the music. "I trust you."

"We've only known each other for a few months," he pointed out. But his tone was soft, holding no judgement.

"You are easy for me to connect with," she said after a moment of thinking. "Seeing you at the Hut, I wanted to get to know you. You were someone who...drew me in." She avoided his optics. "I'm glad I acted on that impulse."

"Me too," Bumblebee said, pulling her close. She let him, both of them dancing slowly to the music as the melody changed to a softer, slower tune. It was one that Arcee was familiar with, and it had been the ones she had always liked dancing to. Dancing with Bumblebee, she relaxed once more and she could feel the tension leave Bumblebee as well.

"Arcee," Bumblebee said hesitantly, as if uncertain what he should say. "I am...glad that I got the chance to know you. And I am glad you call me your friend. I would...hope that with you and me being a...Decepticon and Autobot, I hope that we can stay close."

Arcee found herself smiling softly. "Yes, Bumblebee. I would like that."

"Even when the Selection is over?"

Her smile faltered. "Yes, even when it is over." She tried to hide the worry laced in her voice, the sudden uncertainty that always plagued her. She would be leading Cybertron with her sparkmate. And what of Bumblebee? What of him and his sparkmate?

Bumblebee heard the uncertainty in her voice. "Hey," he said, tilting her chin up and forcing her to look into his optics. He was ready to listen, he was always willing to listen and offer his help. She could read all that in his expression.

Arcee just rested her helm near his spark chamber as they danced, wrapping her arms around him. "I don't want to talk about the Selection," she said.

Bumblebee paused. "Alright."

"Let's pretend," she said suddenly. "Let's pretend that we are just a normal mech and femme who happened to meet. There's no Selection, no treaty, no Autobots or Decepticons."

"Okay," Bumblebee said. There was no teasing in his tone, only understanding. He understood what she wanted, because it was the same thing he wanted. "If we were normal Cybertronians," he continued. "We would need certain professions."

"I never thought of that," she confessed.

"Well, what do you like?" he asked.

She frowned thoughtfully. "I like racing," she said. "And I like shooting."

"So a bounty hunter then," Bumblebee said and she could feel his nod. "Got it."

She giggled suddenly. "A bounty hunter. Fine. And you were the target I was sent to kill."

Bumblebee hummed. "Then I must be someone very important to attract the attention of a bounty hunter. So, I would be a politician? So what stops you from killing me?" He brightened up before she could say anything. "I got it! You realized that you could not kill me and rid Cybertron of someone as special as me!"

Arcee groaned. "That only happens in cliche romance stories. The assassin falls in love with the target and they are both on the run where, in some crazy plot twist, they defeat all of evil and live happily ever after."

"It's a classic," Bumblebee defended. "Anyway, so what you're saying is that we are on the run because you refused to kill me. Who wants me dead?"

"Starscream," she said easily.

"Aided by...Count Blur!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "So those two hire you to kill me, but their plan is thwarted because you were charmed by my amazing character, so you spare me and we run off together like a group of bandits."

"Robbing the rich to give to the poor," she said with a grin.

"I love that story!" Bumblebee said teasingly.

"Where Starscream and Count Blur hunt us down and mount our helms on pikes for all to see," she said with a smirk, looking up at Bumblebee's frozen expression.

He pouted. "Well, no one's going to read that story."

She shrugged, resting her helm back on his chassis as they slowly danced. "It's what would happen. The odds were against us anyway." The odds were always against her in real life.

"Yeah, but it's make believe," he said gently. "So, if we were on the run, what profession would you take for undercover?"

She paused, thinking deeply. "I would teach," she said softly. "I've always liked sparklings and would like to be around them. Teaching or nursing seems like...it seems promising." She looked up. "You?"

Bumblebee was silent for several moments. "I...honestly never put much thought in it," he confessed. "I love history and I love visiting the Hall of Records, but I'm not smart or patient enough to pursue the job of a clerk. Maybe a dock worker," he finished.

"But is that what you like to do as a living?" she persisted, hearing the uncertainty in his voice. Despite the fact that what they were talking about was all in their imagination, she did not want Bumblebee to settle for something he did not want to do. He was already doing something like that in real life, no way was she letting him do that in his fantasies.

"Um, no. Not really," he said. "I guess it's a good thing this whole Selection thing is here, or…" He trailed off, as if lost in thought.

She frowned. "What is it?"

"An explorer," he muttered. "A pilot." he looked down at her, optics certain. "I would be a pilot."

She couldn't help but smile. "A pilot then," she said. "So you have me, the teacher, and you the pilot."

"We hide out in simple homes," Bumblebee said. "Both of us doing our respective jobs."

"Not a care in the world as we do what we enjoy," she said.

"You working with the sparklings," he said. "Me, exploring the stars."

"You would have to stay in touch though," she pointed out. "Or else life in hiding would get lonely for me."

He laughed. "You'd have all those sparklings from your job to keep you busy."

"But you're my only true companion," she said.

"True," he said. "Your partner in crime."

Suddenly, she wanted that fantasy. She wanted it to be a reality. She wanted that life, that normal living. She wanted to be a Cybertronian, not a Selected. She wanted to live in a home with a job that she loved. And the strange thing was, she could see Bumblebee in that fantasy.

The warmth of his spark kept her anchored. She knew she should pull away, pull away from these dangerous thoughts and wistful thinking. But she had pulled away and hid from her imaginations for so long and here was Bumblebee, encouraging her on.

She made an effort to pull away, but she realized that she did not want to. The music was still going and they were still dancing.

"We shouldn't think like this," she said, not meaning to speak it out loud.

Guilt swarmed in Bumblebee's optics, a mirror of her own feelings. "I know," he said. "But...I can't help it." He looked away from her. "I'm sorry."

She found herself nodding. "Me too."

"It's nice," he said.

"Very." More so then she could say. It was a painful dream, something that would never happen. "I like it," she said.

Bumblebee smiled softly. "Me too."

They danced, neither one letting go, both lost in their own dreams and imaginations.

"You're a good dance partner," she said.

She heard Bumblebee chuckle. "I'm glad I'm dancing with you."

Those words; she was reading too much into those words. How was it that they had gone from fighting and back to being friends in a matter of hours? How was it that she felt this way, so confused and hopeful? It was like Bumblebee brought hope to her, like he dared her to dream and imagine with him. To imagine a different life with him.

So why was she seeing him in her fantasies? He was right there, entering through a doorway, or watching her work. Or she was watching him exit a ship, his optics bright from all that he had seen, eager to share with her what he had discovered.

Dangerous. This was a dangerous ground, dangerous thinking. She should stop, yet a part of her didn't want to. She should pull away, she should pull away and step out of his embrace right now.

She was in the process of doing so right then when she heard Bumblebee whisper to her. "I am glad we have this, Arcee. This friendship. Thank you for...everything."

She lost her strength and the battle at those words. She stayed in his arms, her optics closed tight as a battle raged inside of her. Oh Bumblebee, she thought, ashamed and full of guilt. Please don't. Don't encourage me. Don't let me fill you with false hope. Don't fill me with false hope.

But it felt nice. For in giving him hope, he was also giving her hope as well.