Disclaimer: I do not own "Transformers" in any way, shape, or form. They are the property of Hasbro, Michael Bay, and all the other masters of the craft. I am just a humble college student and make no money from this.

The Moonlessnight: Here we go now. Now that the stage is set, it is time to roll out the actual plot behind this madness. Here's to hoping I can get the bulk of this done before school starts a few weeks. Once the classes start updates, unfortunately, will slow to a crawl. That said, to quote the infamous Optimus, "Let's roll out!"

Request

Sam sat with his back pressed to the warm rocks behind him, taking what comfort he could from his current predicament. Yawning, he leaned forward to rest his head on his knees, brown eyes following the pacing mech far below him. Bumblebee did not like this situation any more than he did, but the young mech was taking it far worse. "Did you have to put him up so high, Ratchet? We apologized, didn't we?"

Ignoring Bumblebee for the moment, Ratchet merely batted a hand the mech's general direction. This elicited a noisy engine rev from the little yellow Camaro, earning him a harsh glare from both his leader and the medic. Sulking in the Autobot way, Bumblebee folded his arms across his chest and came to lean against the rocks across the way from Sam. Seeing the blue optics turn in his direction, Sam sighed and smiled at him with a painful shrug of his shoulders. Lifting his head for a moment, Sam laughed, "So long as he lets me down from here before lunch time, I'm not complaining, Bee. I've learned my lesson. Better thirty feet above ground than down there underfoot." The mini-bot virtually wilted as those words left his friend's mouth and Sam bit his cheek in personal reprisal. "I didn't mean it that way, Bee. It was a joke. It was a really, really bad joke. Sorry."

Purposely breaking his gaze with the teen, Bumblebee turned his attention to conversation of his peers who were currently chattering with the many clicks and binary tones of a Cybertronian debate. Their words were suddenly more interesting than his human ward's predicament, stuck high in the rocks where Ratchet had placed him before launching his discussion with Optimus. As Bumblebee put in his two cents in warbling Cybertronian chimes, Sam sighed again, this time in frustration with himself. "Open mouth, insert foot, Witwicky," he murmured to himself, "Mikaela would have slapped me for that one, right between the shoulder blades, and then laughed about it. I am so glad she went to school today…or am I?"

Dropping his head back against the stone and stretching his legs our straight, Sam tried not to think about the thirty foot drop a foot from his toes. At least with Bumblebee pacing he had had something to focus on. Now, only the strange metallic noise of the Autobots talking in their native tongue to distract him from his newfound fear of heights. Well, not heights exactly. Only heights that Bumblebee could not reach, even standing on his proverbial tip-toes. Wrapping his arms more tightly around his legs, Sam put his head down on his knees and closed his eyes, choosing the alien sounds over acrophobia.

To pass the time, he made a game of guessing what the sounds might mean and wondered if he would ever learn to understand Bee's language. Hearing odd patterns in the various clicks and whirs, Sam was surprised when he began to differentiate between the different voices of the mechs. That in itself gave him a profound sense of accomplishment. Sounding gruff as mountain stone, Ironhide rumbled in a disapproving way. Ratchet countered in equally gruff tones but his clicks carried a softer edge, the 'hidden' empathy of the mech made apparent in those mellifluous sounds. Optimus spoke then, and Sam nearly laughed as images of his father and Lennox flashed through his mind. Authority tempered by experience and brought to a honed edge by an unconcealed love of those under him. Then, the true voice of Bumblebee came skittering across the human's consciousness.

Of all the Cybertronian voices, that of Bumblebee was by far Sam's favorite. The flighty whistles and energetic pace made the reason for the small mech's name immediately apparent. Like a bee lilting from flower to flower, Bumblebee's voice slipped through pleasant timbres and resonances that gave Sam the impression of a child singing. For reasons unbeknownst to him, this suited the mech well. The image of a kid about his age flickered before Sam's eyes, sunny yellow hair and wide blue eyes dimmed only by a dazzling smile. Shocked at the clarity of the image Sam jerked his head back, realizing belatedly that he had somehow fallen asleep. Judging by the slant of the shadows on the rocks, noon had come and gone some time ago and the Autobots were no longer talking in their mechanical language. English drifted from the group now.

Groaning as he moved joints stiffened from ill treatment, Sam stretched and made his way to his knees. Inching forward, he carefully peered over the edge of his perch to find the Autobots standing a fair distance away at the edge of the rocky outcroppings, where the stone dropped away in a recessed lookout. Optimus stood there, talking to the air for all Sam knew since none of the other Autobots were responding at the moment. Listening for a few minutes, Sam soon realized that Optimus was, for lack of a better term, 'on the phone'.

"Is this Defense Secretary John Keller?" A pause during which Sam's jaw dropped open. John Keller? What business did Optimus have calling him out of the blue? The answer came quickly. "This is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots. We recently spoke concerning our status as refugees here in your country. … Yes, sir. The meeting with Agent Simmons could have gone better. I agree. Still, I have a request." A short pause followed, during which Sam settled in to lie on his stomach. "My request is simple, sir. My CMO, Ratchet, believes it is in our best interest to establish an Autobot camp where our kind may gather in the coming years. He believes this will prevent cultural…misunderstandings...between our two races by allowing any new comers time to acclimate to life here on Earth. Ratchet has also expressed an interest in setting up a proper repair bay. I must say, I agree with his logic."

Optimus paused, tilting his head to one side and bringing a hand up to tap the side of his head. "You will have to speak up, Secretary Keller. I am afraid your communications scrambling frequency is a little troublesome to interpret. … Ah. Yes. Sam and Captain Lennox are doing a prime job acting as our liaisons. Ratchet's concerns are more for future arrivals than for our group here." Ratchet's chortling rev told Sam there was little truth to that statement, but Optimus held his ground. "We require only a small space. No more than 174,240 of your feet squared."

"That's four acres, Optimus," Bumblebee interjected.

"Four acres, Secretary Keller, is all that we require," Optimus said with a nod of thanks to Bee. A tense minute of silence descended and Sam shifted uncomfortably, almost holding his breath. While at first thought four acres seemed huge, in comparison to the relative size of the Autobots the space amounted to that of a middle class home. Surely Keller would approve the request. Optimus smiled, breaking the tense silence with a cheerful chuckle, "Thank you, Defense Secretary John Keller. I will send Ironhide to pick up Lennox and we will explore our options. … Yes, I realize that. I personally guarantee that your government will have complete access to any and all design specifications before and during any construction. Just remember our previous agreement…and keep Simmons away from the construction site. He is one human I just cannot bring myself to trust." A warm laugh, "Yes, and thank you again Secretary."

Apparently cutting the transmission, Optimus nodded his head and smiled, "It's done, Ratchet. Due to our 'unique' circumstances and our recent 'service to the country', the Secretary is arranging an emergency meeting of the Senate to grant our request. Lennox will be here in the morning to act as our diplomatic liaison throughout the process."

Laughter broke forth from the rocks, drawing Optimus' gaze upwards and to the left as surprise played across his features. He had thought Sam was still asleep. The laughter died in a single harsh cough and Sam smiled down at the 18-wheeler, "I don't think Captain Lennox will be terribly happy to leave home so soon, but way to go guys! I was wondering what you were chatting about earlier, but I never imagined it was house hunting."

"The necessity of 'house hunting' actually," Ironhide rumbled. "Ratchet kept bringing up things better left in the past, the dirty little-."

"Say another word and I swear I will invert your cannon absorption coil the next time you go into stasis," the medic snapped. All the Autobots save Ironhide laughed and Sam quirked an eyebrow. Strolling over to retrieve Sam from his perch, Ratchet explained. "It wouldn't hurt him really. He'd just get rather nice recoil the next time he decides to blast something. Although, he might eventually develop the mech version of tennis elbow if I follow through with my threat." The last sentence was pitched low, whispered for Sam's ears only.

Snickering, Sam shook his head at the medic and whispered in reply, "I'd still love to see that." He was rewarded with a genuine smile before Bumblebee appeared to take him from Ratchet's hands, music playing softly from his speakers:

"Home is where the heart is / And my heart is anywhere you are / Anywhere you are is home / I don't need a mansion on a hill / That overlooks the sea / Anywhere you're with me is home."

Not missing the message Bee was giving him, Sam smiled wider and settled into his friend's hands. "You're right Bee, and there's no place like home."

Songs used: "Home is Where the Heart Is" by Elvis Presley
The Moonlessnight: There we go. A little shaky and probably in need of a rewrite, but it will do. Thank the dogs for not letting me sleep so I could finish this chapter so quickly. They keep barking for no fragging reason and it's about to fry my processor…or my mind… Whatever. I'm asleep at the keyboard. Hope you liked this chapter. Barring any rewrites when I have had some sleep, I will have the next written by Sunday. Hopefully. --falls asleep in the computer chair until the dogs bark again-- Ironhide? Ratchet? Anyone got a couple muzzles? Anyone?