A/N: Hopefully, in a week or so, my next story of Dawnfeather and kits will have its first chapter published! Yay! Well, barring any unforseen circumstances or problems...

NordicAutobotGirl: Yes. I'll try, I'm pretty sure you'll get what you're waiting for! If not, well, I can't please everyone, though I tried! I have a vague plotline that I want this story to follow. I actually wrote it when I was really young, like, eight or nine. I liked the idea of it, so I recycled it. Going back to read the orginal content now makes me cringe :P XD

.char: Thanks! Is this soon? :D

Swirlspot: Awwww... ^.^ Because, plot. And, you've actually started a new train of thought with this story.. that could be a bad thing, or a good thing! It was. I think the culprit was, however, my mouse. My computer mouse. I don't own a live one XD The reason I think so is that when I'm gaming (coughcoughSylestiacoughcough) I will randomly go back a page. I've tried to find out why, it just started doing that lately. Can't figure it out tho... ANYONE KNOW HOW TO STOP THIS ANNOYING THING?!

:D :D :D

The base was silent in the early hours of morning. All bots, Cybertronian and Predaconian alike lay in recharge in their respective berths.

Then one bot stirred. Optimus. He rose, heading straight for the cleansing racks. He quietly closed the door behind him, then opened a cabinet that held his soap. He turned the water on, quickly stripping his armor off and entering the stream of water.

The soap bottle was slippery, for whatever reason he wasn't sure, but he ended up dropping it. It splashed into the shallow water at his peds, clattering loudly. The Prime waited for a moment,listening for any bot to complain, then picked it up, only to drop it again.

This time a incoherent yell came from a berthroom, and Optimus shook his helm, gingerly picking up the offending bottle with both servos.

It threatened to slip out again, but the Prime swiftly squirted some soap onto his servo then placed the slippery bottle onto a in-shower rack.

Bumblebee choked back laughter as he listened from outside the washroom doors. A second clatter came, indicating whoever was in there was having more trouble with the soap.

The yellow scout glanced behind him at his two parteners-in-crime, Wheeljack and Bulkhead. Bulkhead was having a harder time holding his laughter in, it seemed, as the occasional snicker escaped his mouth.

The three had poked several small, inconspicuos holes into the sides of the soap, letting soap ooze out in tiny streams. Whoever would pick it up would have to deal with soap on the outside of the bottle that wouldn't wash away.

"What are you doing?" Bumblebee nearly jumped out of his armor. Bulkhead and Wheeljack must have done the same, but Bulkhead wasn't near as small or quiet as the other two in their 'jumping'. He banged noisily against the wall, cringing as he did so.

Arcee raised a optic-ridge at the guilty three. "Well?" She said, with a expression on her faceplates that said, "You'd better not think about lying to me."

"Uh, we're..." Wheeljack trailed off, looking from Bulkhead to Bumblebee. "Just waiting our turn!" Beeped the little yellow scout, large optics shifting from side to side.

"You're a terrible lier, Bee." Arcee said amusedly.

"Wait." Bulkhead said with panic in his voice. "If Arcee is out here with us, who's in there?"

The other two whirled with similiar looks of panic on their faceplates, just as Optimus Prime opened the door. He stared at the trio who hunkered at his peds for a moment, then a twinkle appeared in his optics. "Who poked holes into the soap bottle? Whoever did, shall be punished!"

It was Arcee's turn to hide smiles and snickers behind her servos now.

A moment of complete silence passed.

"It was me, sir..." Bulkhead stood up from his crouched position, optics miserable. "And I." Bumblebee whirred sadly, standing beside his friend. They both looked expectantly to Wheeljack, who remained on the floor. "Uh, they dragged me into it?" Twin glares were boring into his armor, so Wheeljack sighed and stood. "I did it too. To be honest, we were trying to get Arcee-" -Here he glared at the two-wheeler femme, who merely laughed harder- "But I guess we didn't think of who's soap we were grabbing at the time."

"I'd say so." Optimus said. "For your punishment, it shall be... allowing Arcee to go through the wash first."

Arcee gasped. "Really? Great! No more having to deal with the immense amounts of soap, and the cold water..." Her voice trailed off as she brushed past the trio and entered the wash. Optimus closed the door behind her, walking down the hall, but not before throwing a wink at the mechs. "Don't interrupt her!" He called.

Three identical groans came from behind him, and he merely chuckled and went on.

Thanator listened with curious audios to the Autobots down the hall. From what he could gather, the three mechs had done something to the leader. He was certain they were going to be punished severly for disrespecting their leader, but nothing happened, save for the femme taking the leader's place in the washracks.

What strange habits, these Cybertronians have. He thought, glancing with all four optics to Her Highness' berth. She was still there, in quiet recharge. If any Predaconian had tried anything as such with any Predacon of higher level, there would have been repercussions.

With the base waking up, he was sure Her Highness would wake up soon, but she continued recharging. Never changing pose, never moving. Not right. His instincts told him. Too still. Much too still. He leaped nimbly down from his hanging position and placed a ped on her helm.

The ped went straight through, smacking against the table underneath with a loud bang. He heard a mutter down the hall, mostly likely about his noise, but he ignored it, instead following the scent trail. It led all over.

How Her Highness had managed to do all this without his knowledge made Thanator wonder. He swiftly tracked her trail from the medbay, across the base, six peds moving quickly. He kept his first pair of optics casting about for any clues, the second pair watching his pedsteps.

Thanator entered the hall where the bots were, rearing his long-necked helm back to scan it fully. Ignoring the rather strange Cybertronians who stared at him, he sniffed at the entrance to each room, crossing each one at as he went. One still held the medic, but he knew she wasn't in there.

The scent trail finished its winding way at the tunnel that led to the Blue Skies. Not a hint of it was anywhere, not on the walls, ceiling, or floor. He raced outside and breathed in the dust, sifting through it. No scent.

An angered growl erupted from his chassis. He had failed Her Majesty! He thumped his long tail angrily, then entered the base. He paused again at the place where the scent so bizarrely ended.

What would make this trail end so? He wondered, casting about his mind. Ah! He came across the memory file of the portal that had taken the Cybertronians so abruptly. The one who had done this was the medic. Prehaps it could do so again?

Thanator raced down the hall, blowing past the mechs who had just been about to enter the room where all the excitement had taken place just outside of earlier that morning. He knocked the femme over, busting through the medic's door. The medic leaped to its peds, shouting incorherent words.

Thanator ignored the poorly-wielded buzzsaw, instead opting to transform and pick up the medic. The Cybertronians burst in behind him, shouting, guns whirring.

The Predacon paused, instantly assesing the obstructions ahead of him; femme, light, small, most likely quick and trained to handle opponents larger then her, good shot with gun, steady under pressure, quick thinker. The scout; steady under pressure as well, trained more for stealth and scouting then servo-to-servo combat, but would likely be very good at that as well, as well as on-the-spot decisions. The green mech; relies on his strength and combat-mates to help him. White mech; obviously quick on his feet and mostly likely trained in the art of the cyber-ninja, as evident with the swords clenched in his servos.

All this took under a few kliks; (1) and Thanator set the medic down, not wanting to risk a fight in such close quarters. The medic stumbled back, still half-in recharge.

Thanator moved forward, not heeding the warning tones in the voices of the Cybertronians. He pushed through them, leading them to the portal-spot. He pointed to the ground, transforming and waiting expectantly. "You," He motioned to the medic. "Make portal."

They seemed confused, then the scout ran to the console, jabbering excitedly. The language he spoke in was familiar, at least somewhat, and Thanator could pick up several words and even sentences. "I-Finds-Wants-Flame because you-at really early this-morning and-protect!"

Thanator knew 'protect'. It was, after all, what he had been trained to do all his life.

The medic made his way over to the console after some more speech, and the portal whirred to life behind Thanator. He leaped through it without pause, feeling only slightly from the dizzy feeling it gave him.

He paused, then immediately caught Her Highness' trail, and ran off after it, optics alert and watching around him.

Darkflame couldn't recharge. After falling into recharge, she woke after a few joors of recharge and tossed and turned, waking Thanator once.

Finally she stood, silently slipping away to Ratchet's berthroom. "Ratchet." He mumbled quietly in response, waking when she jabbed him with a sharp digit. "Yes?" He said irritably. "Can you bridge me somewhere?" Darkflame asked, orange optics shining in the darkness.

"Sure." Ratchet was too tired to argue. He tried to be quiet for Darkflame's sake, going as far as to let her carry him to the console. The ground bridge whirled to life, and she slipped through and he closed it. It only took a few kliks.

Now she was alone. Alone with her thoughts and decision-making.

Except for that annoying high-pitched squeak. It was faint, faint enough that Darkflame considered ignoring it. But it was often-made, and she also considered finding the source and destroying it.

She finally stood, intent on finding the source, just as Thanator appeared. He bowled through the underbrush, surprisingly quiet, and nearly ran into her. He stopped in time, sniffing her all over before asking-"Are you all right? Why did you sneak away?"

"I am fine. I snuck away because I have to deal with very important decisions right now, and wanted to be alone." Then she stepped past him, tracking that noise once more. He followed quietly, ever-alert for Avians or Decepticons.

She pushed her way through thick bushes and stopped near a waterfall. The noise seemed to be coming from over it. Transforming, Darkflame flew to the top, sighing when there was nothing. No noise, no creature of any kind.

Then it started up again. From behind the waterfall. She cautiously flew down and poked her helm through the powerful flow of the water, splitting it in two.

The cave was dark, but her optics adjusted swiftly. And the sight that greeted her nearly made her spark stop.

"How could I have even thought of killing you?!"

A/N: CLIFFY! XD And, wow, this story is moving at a fast clip! Chapter 19 already?!

Does anyone recognise the name 'Thanator' at all? :D Comment where it's from if you know. :D Or if you look it up!

(1): Klik as in a second. Joor as in a hour.

Hope you've enjoyed! Please, review! Reviews make meh happie...