Author's Note: Finally! I have managed to update! So sorry for the long wait, but college is taking up a lot of my time. Thank you so much for your reviews! They really encourage me. God Bless.

I do not own anything.

Arcee's good mood could not be ruined by even Unicron himself. She enjoyed just strolling down the streets of Iacon as if she were a regular citizen. Of course, she still had Ark with her as protection, but that was to be expected.

She wondered if the Autobot Heir had any guards with him.

She pushed that thought aside. Nope, she would not think about any of that. Today was her day off from life itself. Right now, she was just going to relax.

She found herself drawn to the shops and ancient buildings, and she came to realize that she enjoyed Ark's presence. It was much more fun to stroll and explore with someone, even if that someone never really spoke unless spoken to.

"What do you think about that?" she asked, pointing to a particularly large building. It was an art museum, judging by the twisting, turning bits of metal that passed for art.

While Arcee was not an expert at art, she did appreciate beauty, and she did want to take advantage of her free day.

Ark looked at the building Arcee was pointing at with a frown. "It is large," the femme commented. "And crowded."

Arcee rolled her optics, grabbing Ark's arm and dragging her toward the building. "Yes, I got that," she said. She was well aware that Ark did not like being out in the open, but no one was going to assassinate two femmes who were merely participating in the Selection. She just wished Ark would understand that.

The colors of the inside of the building was rich, displaying many works of art with many Cybertronians chatting and observing the displays. Arcee just strolled down the halls, optics glancing at the display cases and many statues.

She stopped at a particular large portrait depicting a winged beast. It's optics were a deep gold, fire streaming from its jaw as it loomed over the city below in the painting. Its optics were narrowed and the scenery around it was a dark, angry red.

"Beautiful, right?" a voice said.

Arcee turned to see a black femme staring up at the painting with a wide smile. She was smaller than Arcee in height, which was surprising as there were not many who were shorter than Arcee. "Predacons, while extinct, always seem to capture my attention."

Arcee nodded politely, going back to observing the portrait. "Yes, what Cybertronian hasn't grown up hearing stories of the predacon race?"

"You would be surprised how much truth is actually lost into legend," the femme said simply. Her purple optics seemed to shine as she continued to stare up at the predacon. She giggled. "In fact, there are so many myths that it takes a lifetime to uncover it all."

"Are you a researcher?" Arcee asked, cockign her helm.

She giggled once more. "I'm a scientist. Studying predacons is just a hobby of mine."

Arcee nodded. "Ah, I see."

"The bones that have been uncovered have yielded some most helpful research," the femme continued. "Combining the CNA from a predacon bone with another living being to create an entirely different creature has been successful." Her optics shimmered. "The results have been unimaginable."

"Combining a predacons CNA with a Cybertronian?" Arcee repeated, blinking. "That sounds advanced." And interesting. How is it that she never heard of such an attempt? Maybe she should inform Megatron.

The femme beamed. "It is. The armor of a predacon is indestructible. With that kind of defense used on the battlefield, it would change everything."

"Yet we are not at war," Arcee commented. But, she knew full well that just because the guns had ceased firing did not mean that there was peace. It never was that easy.

"Doesn't stop the research," the femme commented. She looked up at Arcee. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

Arcee watched the femme strut off, frowning as she turned to gaze back at the fierce predacon picture that seemed to now speak signs of an omen.

"Arcee?" a sudden voice asked.

Arcee looked up, startled to see Elita-One who looked equally surprised. Two mechs and one femme were with her, all looking equally professional and elegant. They glanced at Arcee with wary caution, sizing her up with their gazes.

Elita waved her servo at the mechs and femme. "Thank you for attending. I will speak to you later," she said to them. The group did not even hesitate at that moment when Elita dismissed them. With one last look at Arcee, they left in a dignified manner.

Arcee blinked as the taller, pink femme came over. "I was not expecting to see you here," Elita confessed. "I was going to wait to speak with you until you were back."

Arcee glanced at the retreating mechs and femme who were previously with Elita. "Well, I don't mean to keep you from anything important," she said.

Elita waved a dismissive servo. "Oh, you're not. I was just finishing up some Council business." She grinned. "Your company is much more enjoyable."

Arcee fell into step with her. "You said that you wanted to speak with me when I got back," she stated.

Elita just smiled. "I hear you are having mech problems."

Arcee stopped and felt her spark dop for a moment. Now, her previous good mode was slowly ebbing away. She sighed. "Did Megatron send you?"

Elita smiled. "Of a sort. He wanted me to talk to you." She looked at Arcee. "But I cannot get you to talk to me if you do not want to speak. But, I am more then willing to listen."

Arcee nodded politely. "Thank you," she said.

"As for now," Elita said simply. "Shall we enjoy the precious art before us?"

Arcee grinned back as she and Elita strolled down the halls, both glancing at the pictures and anything that passed for art every so often.

"How tragic," she heard Elita murmur. Arcee stopped to see what had caught Elita's attention.

It was a picture depicting a golden femme, surrounded in blue light as she hovered in the air. Eleven mechs below her were frozen in an intense battle, all surging towards a dark figure that seemed to be reaching out for the femme, his clawed servos open in vain.

"The tragic tale of Solus Prime," Elita said. She pointed at the femme surrounded in blue light. "Here, she is being lifted up into the arms of her father, Primus, for protection. Below her, her brothers fight her former lover, the one who was responsible for her death."

"The Fallen," Arcee said with a nod. "Yes, it is a tragic story."

"It is more than that," Elita said. "It is a reminder. What could have been was destroyed by ambition and greed. With one, wrong act, the dynasty of the Primes fell."

"Honestly," Arcee confessed. "There are so many ballads and legends of Solus Prime and the Fallen, that is has been turned into nothing more than a dramatic love story."

"History has been warped," Elita agreed. "Even I do not know what occurred between Solus Prime and the Fallen. There may not have even been romance between them, but maybe the historians wanted to make history interesting."

"History is already interesting enough with what it has to teach," Arcee said. "You can learn without the lies."

Elita nodded. "True enough," she said. "Without history to remind us of the past, we are doomed to repeat its mistakes." She cocked her helm. "Have you enjoyed your stay in Iacon?"

Arcee nodded. "I have, immensely so." She bowed her helm slightly. "Thank you for the hospitality."

Elita merely smiled. "No thanks is needed. It has been a pleasure to see you again, Arcee. You have grown." That last note was said in a faint whisper. "I am pleased with how you have grown and matured these past few years, and you have been an amazing influence. You have a good helm on your shoulders and you are very insightful."

Arcee waited, aware that something more was to be said.

"But," Elita said thoughtfully. "Please do remember that it is never a sign of weakness to seek out help, especially in these uncertain times."

"I am not even sure how to go about asking for this type of help," Arcee found herself confessing. "How can I seek help, if I do not know what plagues me?"

"Talking," Elita said simply as they slowly walked to another painting. "Just by talking can help make sense of a situation. Feelings are confusing, but you can never shut them out. Feelings are like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and when they do go off, the aftermath can be very destructive. That is where most arguments come from. Talking and having one to listen can ease the pressure and make sense of the confusion." She paused. "I am not saying that I am the one you should talk to. Maybe there is someone else you trust who can listen and offer advice. But they cannot help you if they do not know that you seek their aid."

Arcee was silent. She trusted Elita, but she did not know her as well. She had always been drawn to the pink femme, and maybe someday, she would speak with Elita about her feelings and muddled thoughts. But right now, she wasn't ready. Not until she sorted herself out and made sense of everything.

His thoughts and guilt plagued him and did not cease to torment him in the night. He tossed and turned, squeezing his optics shut as he tried to block his hurried mind. By early morning, he did not feel well, physically, and emotionally.

"I don't feel well," he grumbled, not bothering to raise his helm from the berth.

That was an understatement. He felt awful. His spark clenched with guilt whenever he was around Optimus, Elita or anyone for that matter. He could not meet their optics and he didn't even want to be in the same room with them, lest he break down and make a fool of himself.

He was also terrified about what this could mean for Arcee. Would the Twins tell anyone about what they had found? What would happen to her if she was punished? The very least, he would be disgraced, but Arcee could lose so much more.

Then there was the other problem; his conflicting feelings. Yes, he was attracted to her. More then that, he liked her. He enjoyed being around her and he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. She was easy for him to be around and he felt relaxed and calm. He enjoyed her smile and her quick wit and ability to handle herself well. She could be feisty, yet she could handle complicated situations in a calm, dignified manner. But he knew that she was more than capable of using less sociable means to defend her case if need be.

The thought of harm befalling her filled him with dread. The thought of her being promised to someone else filled him with an unpleasant, angry ache. He saw the fear and uncertainty in her optics when she spoke of her Autobot Selected mate, and he wanted to hold her and chase her fears away.

He whimpered at the thought, curling up into a tight ball and trying to make himself as small as possible. "I am so pathetic," he mumbled.

He was aware that he should get up now, but he felt too heavy to move. He was weighed down by his thoughts and feelings, unable to make sense of anything.

"I should just stay here for eternity," he grumbled, tossing around as anger filled him. "It would solve a lot of my problems. Make things simple." He flopped back down, closing his optics. But that proved to be a mistake as his thoughts turned into images; taunting images with voices. He curled up into a ball once more, trying to make himself smaller.

He let out an angry yell as sudden helplessness and frustration filled him. His yell transformed into a harsh growl as he threw the thermal blanket against the nearest shelf, the sound doing little to ease his chaotic emotions.

The sound of crashing datapads caused him to glare at the mess he made. Datapads had fallen from the shelf when his thermal blanket had hit it.

He could only glare, trying to hold onto his anger as it was the only thing blocking his unwanted thoughts and feelings. But soon, his anger left him with the resigned breath he let out, his shoulders relaxing as he felt disappointment with himself for letting his anger get the best of him.

He rolled out of his berth and stumbled to the mess he made, kneeling down and picking them up. He started sorting through them, trying to see where they had originally been stored. He caught sight of the Key Card that had fallen, and he picked it up, observing it for any damage.

His optics caught sight of a particular stack of datapads, the ones he would read most of the time. He carefully picked one up, noticing the writing of his future mate back when they had written to each other. He stared without really seeing what was before him, the lettering and symbols blurring.

He glanced back at the datapads, the ones his intended mate had sent him. He did not know much about her, but his mind had created this femme from the information he had gathered over the years. But over the past week, that femme had become someone familiar, someone he recognized. She was a Decepticon, but she was not his Selected mate.

But Arcee was so much more than a nameless femme.

He placed the datapads away, shoulders straight as he let out a sigh. Maybe it was time for him to start paying attention to those who were already in his life.

He clenched the Key Card in his servos. He remembered the day Optimus had given it to him. He had said it was an heirloom, and that it was now Bumblebee's because of how proud he was of him and that it was a sign of trust.

Bumblebee let out another sigh. Well, he did have a duty to perform. Optimus did trust him and Bumblebee was determined to not let him down. But he was also not going to let himself down in the process either. He would do nothing for the moment. He would ride things out and see where and how his feelings developed. If nothing grew short of a close friendship between him and Arcee, then great. But if it grew into something more, then he would go to Optimus Prime about his new feelings and how he wanted to act on them.

But at the moment, he would wait.

Yet, as he left his room, he could not help but think how much he was looking forward to seeing Arcee again, and how excited he was to be in her presence again. But he ignored the rapid beating of his spark, chalking it up as to just nerves.

It did not take long for the Twins to finally realize that they needed backup if they wanted to help out Bumblebee and Arcee. But they were not ones to go about spreading rumors at the cost of betraying one's trust. So they found that they were stuck as they could not ask anyone for inside info on Bumblebee's current love life.

Until an opportunity seemed to drop on their laps.

Conveniently, they had been talking about the lack of detail in Bumblebee's love life.

"Does he even have a love life?" Sunny asked with a frown, looking up from the datapad he was reading. "I mean, what's his type of femme?"

Sides let out a grunt as he plopped the stack of datapads he had been carrying down on the table. "Well," he said, cocking his helm, lost in thought. "We haven't known him for long, so I would say no. But he does seem like an easy going mech who would attract the ladies."

Sunny hummed. "The nice, bubbly type of ladies. What about that femme he's always hanging out with. Moonracer?"

"I thought of that too," Sides admitted, sitting down and flipping through a datapad. "At first glance, there seemed to be something going on. But I'm kind of getting a sort of sibling vibe from her, more than a romantic vibe. Know what I mean?"

Sunny let out a disappointed huff. "Yeah, I guess. What of that Firestar girl?"

"She's a stuck up," Sides said simply. At this point, it had become abundantly clear that the Twins were not bothered by all their snooping around. They were not ashamed with all the spying and information they had dug up. As far as they were concerned, they were helping out two equally strong willed, self sacrificial Cybertronians who needed help in recognizing the love they had for each other.

Plus, the Twins were bored and had nothing to do.

"Besides," Sides said. "She's too by the book. She would never have a relationship with anyone who wasn't her Selected mate."

Sunny nodded. "Yeah, seems right." At this point, he was willing to agree with his snoopy brother at the moment. "Speaking of which," he said thoughtfully. "Did you get any info in Bee's Decepticon Selected spark mate?"

Sides looked at him with a grimace. "I tried, and I nearly had a spark attack when some faceless freak jumped out at me. I nearly leaked right then and there! And then he dragged me out of the room and I thought he was leading me to rip out my spark and eat it!"

Sunny raised an optic ridge. "And…?"

"Well, all he did was throw me at Prowl's pedes, which was worse. I was offering my spark to be eaten up by the faceless mech at that point. Having it eaten is better than facing Prowl's wrath."

"Now you're just being dramatic," Sunny grumbled, looking back at his datapad.

"Life is too boring to be simple," Sides pointed out. He frowned, cocking his helm. "By the way, have you found anything useful?"

Sunny groaned, throwing the datapad down with a huff. "No! All these datapads have useless junk on romance and feelings. All they have to offer is how the spark and processor work and how that mixes in with thoughts and feelings. If I wanted to be a doctor or a psychiatrist, I would have changed my designation."

Sides grimaced. "Well, we've only looked through twenty-three different datapads so far. Nothing worth doing is ever easy." He scowled. "Picked that up from Prowl."

"Still," Sunny complained. "I learned more about spark bonding than I ever wanted to know." He propped his pedes up on the table in a lazy gesture. "All of it was deeply detailed and so disturbing that I am trying to rid the images out of my helm."

Sides perked up. "Which datapad is that?"

Sunny kicked the offending datapad over to his brother who eagerly snatched it up. He opened it, only to frown. "Hey," he complained. "This is the psychiatrist one!"

Sunny frowned. "Oops, wrong one." He kicked another one over. "Here, I think it's this one." He leaned back in his chair again with a bored sigh. "Still, not one of them is helping us in getting any closer to bringing Arcee and Bee closer together."

"Wait, what?" a sudden voice exclaimed, drawing their attention.

Sideswipe looked up in shock while Sunstreaker twisted his helm to see Smokescreen staring at them in shock. The Twins exchanged looks that bordered on sheepishness for a moment before an idea struck them.

And that is how an oppurtunity dropped on their laps.

"If it was supposed to be a secret," Smokescreen hissed. "Then you shouldn't be talking about it in public!"

"Still," Sunny argued. "You're Bee's friend and won't betray him, right?"

"Or else we'll have to erase your memory banks, and we are just learning how to do that," Sides added. "It is quite an unpleasant experience, but we are more than willing to do it."

Smokescreen was uncertain if they were being serious, or not. But he decided not to push it. But it was not like he had any intention of ratting Bumblebee and Arcee out to anyone. It was their own mess to deal with, and he would not get involved.

"But," Sides said. "Since you are now aware of the situation, you can help us."

"I am not getting dragged into this," Smokescreen said harshly, backing up, only to be dragged forward by the two determined mechs.

"C'mon Smokes," Sunny whined. "Bee is your friend, and he needs help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't help him?"

"You don't want him to be on his deathbed, realizing he had been living a lie and a life that was not his own," Sides said. "What was the point of even living if he wasn't living the life he was supposed to have?"

"It would be like a prison for him," Sunny added. "He would have to put on a fake face, acting for all to see. Hopelessness would seep in at the middle of the night while he would awake to the daytime of torture and falsehood."

"A miserable existence that would surely break him," Sides said.

"You are being dramatic," Smokescreen protested. "Bumblebee has never looked that depressed."

"Because he's a good actor," Sunny replied.

"Seriously?" Sides exclaimed, cutting his brother off. "How can you not see it? Even we, who haven't known Bee for long, can tell when he is faking it. You've been his lifelong friend, you should be able to pick up on the signs. Or do you just go through the motions?"

"There are signals that Cybertronians subconsciously send, hoping someone will take notice, unintentional or not. Can you not pick up on that?"

It was in that moment that Smokescreen knew that he was stuck. His resolve was beginning to crumble from all the banter going around, but it was made even worse when a certain, yellow mech made it into the room.

"Hey Smokes!" Bumblebee said cheerfully, rushing over. "Are you up for a race after training?"

"Better crame in as much races as you can," Sides said suddenly. "Things'll start to pick up and you soon won't have time for any of that when the Selection is over."

Bumblebee's wings dropped slightly and the light in his optics dimmed a little, but his smile never left. "Yeah," he said brightly. "Living life to the fullest as much as I can before all the drama strikes."

"The drama has already struck," Sunny muttered, but Bumblebee did not hear. Only Smokescreen and Sides were close enough to hear.

Bumblebee turned to look at Smokescreen. "So, you racing?"

Dear Primus, the Twins were right. Right about the acting, the faking. Everything. "Yeah," Smokescreen found himself saying. "I'll be at the track."

The light in his optics returned. "Great! See you there!"

Primus help him. How had the Twins roped him into this?

"How do we even know if Arcee feels the same way towards Bee?" Smokescreen asked.

The Twins just shrugged. "She does. They're obviously attracted to each other."

Smokescreen raised an optic ridge, but didn't question any further. "So, what is your plan?"

"We were thinking romantic gestures," Sides said.

Sunny frowned. "I thought we were going to create a love triangle and spark some jealousy!"

Sides waved a servo. "Nah, too complicated. It would take too long."

"But it would build character!"

"And it is still too complicated," Sides said. "You have conflicting feelings, along with torn hearts and someone always winds up hurt." Sides folded his arms. "Besides, who would we use for the third point in the triangle? Smokescreen?"

"I'm still here," the white mech pointed out with a frown of disapproval.

"Nah, I was thinking of using this one mech, Cliffjumper," Sunny said. "I think he and Arcee would get along just fine." He shrugged. "But I can see your point. It would be too complicated, and we already have a relationship going so well here. No need to mess with success."

Sides pouted. "Aw man, now I can see the merits of a love triangle! Let's do it!"

"But it's too complicated," Sunny protested. "And I don't want to do it anymore."

"I'm done," Smokescreen said suddenly, pushing back his chair and storming out of the room. "I can't handle this."

He was unable to escape the weirdness for too long. The Twins found him with more information and crazy ideas.

"Maybe music," Sunny suggested.

"Or romantic settings," Sides said.

"They seem to be doing just fine on their own," Smokescreen added. "Why don't we do what we have been doing and just offer them advice when they seek it?"

The Twins huffed. "They are in serious need of help," Sunny said.

"And we will give it to them!" Sides declared. "But Bee better act now, because the Decepticons are leaving today."

"And I want to at least say my goodbyes," Smokenscree grumbled as he quickened his steps.

"This will be a perfect opportunity to make a romantic setting!" Sunny exclaimed. "Operation, First Kiss is under way!"

Smokescreen blinked, startled. "Hey! Wait! Don't you think it's a bit early for a kiss?"

"Shalalala shut up!" the Twins sang as they rushed down the halls to hatch their scheme. Smokescreen really didn't want to, but he followed them anyway out of fear that they would do something foolish.

"Hey! Arcee!" Bumblebee shouted, catching her attention as he ran after her. He couldn't believe that the day had finally come when the Selected Decepticons would take their leave. But it was here, and the Autobots would soon join them in Kaon.

She looked up in faint surprise as he ran up to her, looking up at him in confusion. "Bee?" She asked. "What are-?"

"I wanted to see you off," he said breathlessly. "And I wanted to say, see you later." He smiled at her. "I can't wait to see what you have to show me in Kaon."

She blinked, startled. "Kaon?"

He grinned. "Of course! When I am in Kaon, I'll need to do stuff. What better way to spend my time then to have you show me your home?"

She was speechless for a moment before a slow, small smile spread on her face. "I would love to," she said earnestly.

He beamed, "Great! Better prepare that checklist of yours, because I hear Kaon is a tourist hot spot."

She chuckled. "I'll show you the gladiator pits first." She was already making a mental note of taking him zip lining, her personal favorite past time.

"My second favorite place," he said with a matching grin. He took her slim servo in his, shaking it warmly. "See you later," he said, refraining from saying goodbye.

She grasped his servo, not wanting to let go. "See you later, Bee," she said with a smile. "I look forward to seeing you again."

They smiled at each other as he answered back, "Me too."

The three Cybertronians just watched as the two stood in the crowd. The bright, yellow paint color was easy to spot and it was not hard to identify who the small blue femme he was conversing with was.

"Still think they need our help?" Smokescreen asked smugly.

"Well," Sides said. "Don't tell me you're not the least bit curious to see how this plays out?"

"Of course I'm curious," Smokescreen said, going back to watching the two in a non, creepy stalker way. "I am just going to stand back and mind my own business while watching them like a scraplet."

The Twins looked at eachother with triumphant grins. Sunny clapped Smokescreen on the shoulder as all three of them watched Bumblebee and Arcee. "Welcome to the dark side, Smokes," Sunny said with a devious grin.