A/N: Thanks again to everyone for the reviews, and for all the favorites and alerts. It makes me happy that ya'll are enjoying it, because its pretty damn fun to write. Originally, I planned to have more stuff happen in this chapter, but cut it short when a good cut off place made itself available, because I didn't expect it to be as long as its turned out.

There's one scene in here that's supposed to be touching (I guess that's the word) and I'm hoping that it didn't turn out cheesy instead, on account of that would suck massive, flappy ass. I had a lot of trouble with that scene, I was managing to write like, a sentence an hour. I'd think about it, write for about 2 seconds and think some more. Anyone watching me would have that perhaps I'm not all that sharp. So anyway, let me know what ya'll think, and if there's some room for improvement, I'd honestly like to know.

Last thing, the latter part of this chapter had some inspiration from Atlantia's story, "Ignition" which, btw, is an excellent story. You should give it a read if you haven't, just be forewarned, it's unfinished, and that sucks cause its really good.

Peace, Love, and Chicken Grease.

Doll

Chapter 6

(4 Months Later)

Lex was a natural born artist. Paint was her bread and butter, but it was in art school, while carefully laboring to hone her craft that she discovered not only a love of metal working, but a knack for it.

Eventually her talent and skill in metal working began to rival her talent for painting. Seemingly, she didn't so much sculpt the metal, she commanded it. Likewise, she didn't paint, she just told the paints what part of the canvas belonged to what color. She was like an idiot savant that wasn't an idiot.

She thanked her trust fund for this. Not only had she been able to afford an excellent art school, she hadn't gotten bogged down in trying to survive like most starving artists. Most artists she knew were forced to waste their talents painting roses on china cups to put food on the table. Lex had no such problems. It didn't matter to her if her art was considered marketable. She painted and sculpted what she knew and felt, and damn anyone else's opinion.

Not that Lex had never held a regular job. Lucien LaCroix was a murderer, but he was NO rich-y snob. It's ok to look down on mortals for being, well, mortal, he'd told her, but money doesn't make you better than anyone. Lex agreed with him completely, money didn't make her better than anyone, but she had pointed out to him that she was, indeed, mortal herself. He'd waved her away, saying "No, you're family." She was well aware her circumstances when Lucien found her, half-starved and dirty, and knew that he'd likely saved not only her physical life, but her mental life as well. Because of that, Lex didn't take anything for granted: not her wealth, not her life, not anything.

Just to be sure, though, her father had suggested she take a public service job for at least a year. LaCroix's tone of voice informed her that his suggestion wasn't really a suggestion. In fact, his tone suggested that his suggestion was more of an order. Lex got a job at a fast food place, and she believed LaCroix when he told her it would be a learning experience for her, but she was surprised by just HOW correct he was.

She liked her co-workers. She liked most of her customers, but... well, she got some real winners, too. One such happy-crappy asshole got more than he ordered when she hauled him over the counter by his shirt and asked would he like his balls in a sling to go with that? Very politely in little more than a whisper, he replied that fries would suit him just fine, please, ma'am.

After that, the management thought it might be best to put her in Drive-Thru. There, she was surprised to find out just how many people, usually women, would take their money from her as though afraid her minimum wage cooties would rub off on them. And they weren't even rich! They were just like, middle class.

All of that had been before art school and Tranquility, and if nothing else, she'd done well with what she'd been blessed with. She was an amazing artist, and had no problems admitting that. Lex had her critics of course, but well, most of them could fuck themselves in her opinion.

She loved her work and her living room was a testament to that.. Every inch of the 14 foot tall walls were covered in a meticulous mosaic of copper, sliver, gold, and tin, all with varying degrees of polish and texture. It took her years to finish it, and when she did she hired an interior decorator to finish the room AROUND the walls. And if her work was amazing before Yoshi stepped in, it was awe inspiring AFTER he left.

Huge fluffy couches and love seats in neutral off-whites mixed with utilitarian quaker style wooden chairs and tables. The only color came from the few throw rugs tossed around on the darkly polished hardwood floors. The lighting was the best, by far. Yoshi used cleverly hidden lighting that accentuated her walls. Her mosaic seemed to glow, softly radiant, as if it had its own light source, as opposed to relying on outside sources. Bee was fascinated with that room the moment he first saw it, carefully running his fingers over the artfully worked metal.

The room was her pride and joy, the flagship for transformation that would one day turn the inside of her home into a work of art.

She wasn't in her living room now, however. Now she was in her basement workshop, putting together her most current (and less artsy) project. She gently sucked the tips of her fingers. They felt like raw hamburger. The metal she was currently working with was small yet jagged.

She remembered finding it the night they'd met Optimus Prime. Meeting Prime had been a rather life changing experience. And it wasn't just him, they ALL came to the lookout, and it had been pretty amazing. It would have been even more amazing if she'd been able to restrain her traitorous mouth, but no such luck. Prime knelt, trying to get himself to her level and she'd looked right into his baby blues and said, "Hey, sup Tiny?"

She looked over to her side to see both Sam and Bee clutching their heads. A collective groan came from the rest of the Autobots with the exception of the one that had been a silver Solstice. He seemed to think it was hilarious, and was giggling madly. Prime seemed to take it in stride, though, and lowered his hand for her to step on. Without warning, he stood up, raising her over twenty feet into the air. Suddenly, VERY suddenly.

Lex clung to Prime's thumb and tried to convince her stomach to quit visiting her feet. Then she realized she was clinging to Tiny's thumb. Actually, if she were going to be honest, it would be best to say that she was bear hugging his thumb. She stepped away and tried to regain her exterior cool.

"Sorry, I was all molesting your thumb, there."

"Lex," (Lex decided she didn't want to know what kind of Autobot juju allowed him to know her name), "I will not harm you."

Trying hard not to look down, she replied, "Oh! No, I'm not afraid of you, it's just that, well, I like heights about as much as I like clowns and doctors with saws that aren't really doctors."

Optimus Prime looked a little confused. Clearly, he decided it best not to get into all that, too, because he said, "You have kept our secret."

It wasn't a question, but she nodded at him anyway.

"And you care about Bumblebee?"

She looked directly at Prime, and without hesitation simply said, "I love him." After which, she mentally prayed like hell that Bee not only returned her feelings, but was also on a higher plane than most human males and wouldn't turn tail and run at the word 'love.' A gentle finger trailed along her side, telling her she was worrying needlessly. Bee tried to tell her that himself, but his vocal processors failed him, and she patted his finger telling him without words that he didn't need to say anything.

Prime watched it play out with interest, and he stared at Lex as though examining her very molecules (hell, maybe he was) until he nodded to himself, seemingly satisfied. He gently put her back on the ground, and motioned for Bee to come with him. "It has been a pleasure meeting you, but I must speak with Bumblebee alone now." He glanced at the other Autobots, who were carefully pretending that they hadn't been watching everything like a bunch of nosy neighbors. "Perhaps you should get to know them."

She had. And they were a riot. She'd really hit it off with Ratchet. They'd talked for hours that night, so involved in the conversation that Bee finally gave up and just picked her up when it was time to go. When Lex yelped in surprise, Sam said apologetically, "Sorry, Lex, I have school tomorrow."

Ratchet took her from Bee. "Slagger, show your manners!"

Lex thought that neither of them could talk about manners. She was being passed back and forth like a can of beer.

"I'LL take the girl home...that is, if she'd like to finish our conversation."

Hands pinned to her sides, still in the midst of Ratchet's can 'o beer grip, she could only kiss the tip of the finger that Bee rubbed against her face before he left. Lex craned her neck to look at Ratchet.

"Kindly drink me, or put me down."

There had been many changes to Lex's life in the past few months. For one, her trusty orange Hummer was no longer with her. Another driver's brakes failed, and while neither person was hurt, the Hummer was totaled.

Bee and Ratchet had both come when she called for a ride, and when they'd seen her standing in the 'lost cause' lot her truck was towed to, crying her eyes out, both holos, followed closely by Sam, had come at a run, thinking she was injured.

Bee seemed to take her obvious grief over the loss of her vehicle as proof she was up to something with it.

Sam seemed to understand her pain. He was examining it with something akin to sorrow. He rubbed his hand over a patch of white showing against the orange.

"Was it a white car that hit you?"

Lex gently patted the spot Sam was looking at. "No, it used to be white. I guess the crashed rubbed off the paint and the primer. When my Dad bought it, they didn't have orange as a color option, and I had it repainted for safety."

All three of them looked confused.

"I live urban, and play wild. I got it when I still lived in Canada, and the Canadian wilderness is dangerous. Orange is easier to spot from the air than white, especially if there's snow on the ground. I like going where most people don't or can't go, and it was designed to handle nearly any terrain, I just needed it to be more visible."

Lex cried harder, "I have so many good memories in that car..."

All three of them, one human and both Bee's and Ratchet's holo's began patting her back, her arm, whatever they could reach, trying to make her feel better.

"... like, there was that I went camping in the Rockies..."

Still they tried to give her comfort.

"... or that time we all went mud riding and Bill fell out of the window because he was being a crackhead..."

Now they were trying to keep a straight face.

"... or that time I ran over that dudes car..."

All three of them froze. They looked thunderstruck.

"What?"

Sam was the first to regain his voice. "You ran over someone's car??"

"... Yeah, but he was a total dillweed."

"You didn't get arrested?"

"Nah, Dad... persuaded him not to press charges."

Actually, her Dad hypnotized him into forgetting exactly WHAT happened to his car in the first place. Typically, Lex felt bad whenever LaCroix had to bail her out of trouble in that fashion, it made her feel like she was taking advantage. This time, there was NO remorse.

Before Lex left Toronto, she'd always taken her truck to the dealership for repairs at night. She'd park it, drop her spare keys (marked with her name and address, make, model, and plate number) into the lock box beside the door, and get a ride home with LaCroix.

On the Night of the Dillweed, Lex had pulled her bright orange Hummer into a parking spot next to a little red convertible that had been backed into the exact center of two parking places. She began grabbing the various items rattling around in her center console and jamming them in her purse (Lex believed that the 'Not responsible for lost or stolen personal property' sign was like giving people permission to steal whatever wasn't nailed down). She saw a couple of middle-aged men walking up to the sports car, but paid them no mind. She knew a lot of people preferred shopping for cars when the dealership was closed- less hassle.

Lex would have continued paying them no mind, if it hadn't been for the man standing on the driver's side. In a loud, carrying, voice he said, "Oh, check this chick out in her suburban assault vehicle. She thinks she's going to fight a war on the next block."

Lex interrupted their boisterous laughter, "Check out this fat, pot-bellied asshole. He thinks he can get his sexy back by driving a convertible he can barely squeeze into." She glanced down at the car's interior. "AND its an automatic. Loser."

That pissed him off good.

"Dumb fucking quiff!"

It wasn't so much the insult that set her off. Lex didn't like the word quiff, but she didn't hate it enough to destroy someone's car over it, either. Later she decided it was a combination of little things that made her snap on that fat dumbshit. She was tired, she was hungry, she was already cranky because her latest 'camping' trip had cost her a muffler, and then this guy turns up.

Lex backed quickly out of her spot, and turned her Hummer so it was nose to nose with the convertible, whipping the large truck around as easily as she would a little VW Beetle. His front bumper was about half as tall as her front tires.

He never saw it coming. Sane people just didn't run over other people's vehicles. End of story. Except it wasn't. At first the pressure of the Hummer on the little convertibles front bumper served only to shove it backwards, emergency brake protesting, until it beached against the concrete parking-spot marker behind it. Lex's passenger side front tire spun for only a few minutes before the heavy tread found purchase. The Hummer was much wider than the sports car, and as a result, only two of its tires actually ran over the smaller car, the driver's side tires were firmly on the ground. Safe-T glass shattered and crumbled to the pavement, and the tortured squeal of collapsing metal mixed with the muffler-less roar of the massive truck in a symphony of pure POS-convertible destruction.

It was exhilarating.

Dillweed Man and his friend stood there, completely transfixed. It was like they were seeing what was happening, but the information wasn't quite connecting with their pea-brains. That was, at least, until the crazy bitch behind the wheel of that beast of of a vehicle, backed up and ran over his shit AGAIN.

As always, Dad had impeccable timing. He subdued both men before they had a chance to take even a step toward her vehicle. He was a bit over-protective, and the fact that she was dooming this guy's brand new car to the scrap heap made no difference to him. He probably considered chowing down on them both, but didn't, for Lex's sake. Instead, he hypnotized them into forgetting, so that by the time they left-- after LaCroix had taken a moment to angrily hiss, "Next time you find it necessary to run over someone's car, make sure they're IN it first!"-- the two men were standing there, completely bewildered, trying to figure out what in fucknation happened their transportation.

Lex seemed slightly cheered after telling them the Tale of the Car-less Dillweed. A carefully edited tale. LaCroix's secrets were his own, and she would no more betray him than she would the Autobot's.

Sam had laughed helplessly.

Bee just gaped at her. She trailed a finger along his chin, encouraging him to close his mouth, which he did with a slight snap. Lex grinned up at him, "I can be a little...homicidal... with sports cars, Honey."

Bee closed his eyes, and rubbed his face in a tired sort of way. Lex seemed to have that effect on him fairly often.

Ratchet however, looked merely thoughtful. "If you would rather not see your vehicle go to a junkyard... I believe I could put it to good use. I could use the metal to make replacement armor when necessary."

And so it was decided.

Ratchet also decided something else for her: She would NOT being buying another car under his watch. When she pointed out that she could hardly drive an emergency vehicle everywhere she decided to go, he pointed out a bright yellow, late model Hummer parked behind Bee's Camaro alt-form.

"You've got to be kidding."

He wasn't. Surprisingly enough, Bee seemed to think this was an excellent idea, and enthusiastically nodded his approval.

Now it was Lex's turn to gape stupidly. "You didn't like THAT Hummer because you thought it MIGHT be male. You KNOW he's a guy."

"I trust him," Bee replied simply.

Driving a car that was actually alive took some getting used to. It seemed rude to just climb in and start driving, but Ratchet seemed content to let her do just that. He spoiled her as well. As soon as she climbed in, he would crank himself up, and adjust the seats and mirrors for her. He buckled her seatbelt. He kept the interior the perfect temperature, and when she went grocery shopping, he even met her at the supermarket door.

There were compromises to be made. While shopping in the mall once, she'd hopefully shown Ratchet's holo-form a fuzzy, pink steering wheel cover, to which, he'd folded his arms and said, "Only if you want to walk home." Dejectedly, she put it back on the shelf. Also, he flat refused to put "Hum This One, Too" across his windshield, and likewise rejected, "I make my own roads, bitch."

Still though, she enjoyed having him with her, and despaired at the idea of having to buy a regular car. Lex had just gotten plain spoiled. She mentioned that to Ratchet once, and was totally amazed when he replied, "Why would you ever need to buy a car? I can transform into any model you desire."

She hadn't known how to respond. Never once did she ever think he would stay with her for the rest of her life, but it would seem, that was his intention. Lex was glad for it. Ratchet was quickly becoming her closest companion and confidant. He went off on his own, of course, and did whatever it was he wanted to do, but he was always there for her when needed.

In return, Lex doted on him. There was nothing sexual about it, quite the contrary, she viewed it as 'taking care of him' in much the same way she'd taken care of LaCroix when she was still living at home. Except, instead of shopping for clothes, and shoes, and always leaving out something for her father to wear, she was now buying brushes and sponges and using them. At first, it was just a matter of keeping him clean. Lex had always taken pride in her vehicles, and kept them meticulously clean. She saw no reason why Ratchet shouldn't get the same treatment, even though she knew full well he was capable of cleaning himself.

The first time she washed him... that had been, interesting to say the least. He hadn't quite known what to expect when she'd come outside in her green two-piece bathing suit, toting a bucket of sudsy water. She picked up the hose, tested the tepid water, and proceeded to wet him down, to which he immediately responded by shaking off like a giant, yellow dog, his entire body shaking on his shocks. Lex was soaked. Dripping.

"Was that really necessary?" she said, wiping some of the streaming water off of her face with the back of her hand.

"What are you doing?" She wasn't sure where Ratchet's voice came from exactly, it didn't come from the speakers, it just seemed to BE there, but wherever it came from, it was definitely indignant.

"I,' said Lex, "am going to wash you."

"If you don't feel I'm clean enough, I'm perfectly capable of--"

"I know perfectly well what you're capable of." Which was a complete and total lie, since she had no idea what any of them were capable of doing, not really. "But you'll like this, I think, so shut yer face."

"In this form, I have no face."

"Asshole."

He'd submitted to her washing, even though he was initially dubious. It didn't take him long to warm up to it. If he'd had muscles, they would have been flexing under his smooth metal skin. When she started soaping his taillights, she discovered he was ticklish.

"Your ass is ticklish??" She'd rolled, howling on the ground behind him, unable to stop laughing. Ratchet was less than amused. It wouldn't do for the others to find out about this, as he felt his various threats to leave them one legged or to weld their feet to their heads would be less effective. Not to mention, his ticklish ass just didn't fit into his gruff persona.

"I'll run you over if you tell anyone."

Lex swore a solemn oath of secrecy. Then laughed at him some more. Despite that, he'd enjoyed himself thoroughly, and when Lex took him to AutoZone the next day, and showed him to the car maintenance section, he'd been like a kid in the candy store, poring over the various soaps, tire shines, waxes, leather wipes, brushes and clothes, before finally coming up the to register with an armload of items that Lex was happy to buy for him.

She watched him shop, happy that he was happy, but saddened, too. She understood that the large mech wasn't made happy by the washes themselves, but by the affection that motivated her. He'd lived for God only knew how many thousands of years, and spent most of that time at war. Lex had no way of knowing how their lives had been, but she suspected life had been hard on all of them, maybe more so for Ratchet than the others. He was their medic, he took care of them. But, who took care of the medic? Lex suspected no one had, for a very, very long time. As a result, he soaked up the simple affection she lavished on him like a sponge, even though he liked to grumble about how she was going to ruin his reputation.

Lex raised her hands over her head and stretched. She was tired, and she'd lost track of time. Ratchet wasn't home at the moment, in fact, he was purposely not here, taking Sam and his friends out for the day, so that Bee would be free to be with her. Alone. For a long time.

She sighed, and got up. Everything was going so well, what with having Ratchet around and all, but Bee was another can of worms entirely. She knew exactly how he felt about her, hell, everyone did, he didn't exactly hide it. But physically, well physically he'd went from red hot to refrigerated. She figured it had something to do with his talk with Prime. He never told her what was said, but it was the most logical explanation.

It annoyed her that he wouldn't discuss it with her. Especially, since, if she wanted to be honest with herself, she wanted him. Lex had always been a physical sort of person anyway, touchy-feely with those she cared about and that aside- he brought out her inner slut whether she liked it or not. The situation probably wouldn't have been as frustrating as it was, except for, she knew full well he felt the same way she did, he just found it necessary to hold back. Lex also noticed that he didn't use his holo-form around her too much. Like maybe he was trying to keep temptation to a minimum. Didn't work. All of his forms were sexy to her: holo, car, and robot. In fact, the thought of the sixteen foot tall mech cupping her in his hands and having his way with her was enough to make her blood boil.

She'd been waging war on him. She'd been teasing him mercilessly every time she saw him. That wasn't playing fair, and Lex knew it, but as far as she was concerned, well, neither was Bee, and he started it. Lex would finish it. So she had started. When they went for one of their aimless drives, Lex would drive him harder than she usually did, caressing his gear shift and steering wheel much more than necessary for ordinary driving. They'd return to her house, both nearly shivering with need, but still he wouldn't give.

The closest she'd come to getting a real reaction out of him had been three nights ago. She'd been busily painting the master bathroom, clinging to the top step of her ladder with her head craned back, trying to get the primer she was using on the ceiling even. She'd been at it forever, and she was tired, but she just had to get this last bit done, and then she could start her sketching tomorrow.

That was when she saw the bright blue optics peeping in at her through the skylight over the tub. She gave him the '1 minute' gesture, and blew him a kiss.

Actually, it took almost twenty minutes for her to get outside. She finished the ceiling quickly, closed up her primer, cleaned her brushes, and then took a much needed shower herself. When Lex finally dragged herself outside, she saw Bee standing on the lawn beside her pool, looking up at the sky lost in his own thoughts.

He was adorable.

But, she was too tired to torture either him or herself, so she just walked over to him, and fell over backwards with a slight 'Ooof'. The ground caught her. And the grass was soft. Lex yawned, stretched hard and just laid there. Felt good, too.

The warmth made her open her eyes. It was delicious, but all wrong, it was rather cool outside. Bee was hovering over her, about 2 inches away from her skin. How could someone so big AND made of metal move so quietly? No fair.

Bee looked so worried, Lex had to chuckle a bit. She put her hands on either side of his face. "I'm fine, just tired." She leaned forward, gently kissing his speaker before resting her face against his. That their current position was blatantly sexual had not been lost on her. He was on his knees, his hands planted on either side of her head. Evidently, it wasn't lost on him, either.

One gentle metallic finger pressed her down onto the grass. Bee used his left hand to carefully pull her arms over her head, before pinning both wrists to the ground with his forefinger. She looked at him closely and what she saw made her more than a little afraid. He was still being gentle with her, so far, anyway, but his optics were glowing far brighter than they normally did, and his usual graceful movements were jerky, like he was forcing himself to go slow and be careful. There was more of the soldier about him than usual. Lex thought that perhaps her endless teasing finally found his breaking point (and on a night she wasn't even trying, figures).

Hands still trapped, he stroked her body with one of his fingers, from her head to her toes. Still afraid, but more aroused than anything, Lex arched into his caresses. She wondered if he could take her while in this form. More importantly, she wondered if she could take him, because she was pretty sure he was going to try it.

What's more, she wanted him to. Fuck fear.

Bumblebee leaned over her once again, pressing his speaker against her gently and began cycling through sound frequencies that were either too low or too high for the human ear to hear. The effect was like a... sonic massage. An all-over sonic massage. And there was something else there too, a sort of pulsing something she couldn't see or hear, something, rather that was sensed, just beyond the dim reaches of her consciousness. Something beautiful. Something she needed. Something that was calling to her.

When she came, it was fast and intense; it left her reeling, but it was not satisfying. It drove her to greater heights of excitement, and dimly she thought: Jesus, and here I haven't even taken my clothes off yet.

She wanted HIM to feel it.

She wriggled, trying to get her hands free, and Bee, afraid he was hurting her, let her go. Lex got unsteadily to her feet, and went to him, where he sat on his knees, though straight now, no longer hovering over her. She reached out with both hands, and trailed her fingers delicately over the large metal supports that made up his thighs. Her hands slipped in between his yellow armor, and carefully toyed with the inner workings the yellow plates protected.

Bee's entire body shuddered, and he planted his hands in the soft grass in front of him, leaning on them. Touching him was electric. It seemed all she had to do was put her hands somewhere on him, and pleasure bolted from his skin to hers. Judging from his reactions, he could feel it, too. It was amazing and scary at the same time, because she could sense that pulse again, and she knew it was coming from him, but it was coming from her at the same time, and that made no sense, but there it was, and she didn't need a neon sign with a message written in 5 foot tall letters to know that something was up, that this was something more than just dabbling in robo-sex. And she didn't care. It was him, or related to him in someway, and she loved every piece of him, wanted all of him, no matter how, or what, or when, and that pulsing, that pulsing that was so beautiful, but not seen, felt her acceptance, and became stronger, more insistent, like that was all it had been waiting for, and it became faster, more frenzied, and Lex felt herself reaching for it, not with her hands, nothing so simple as that. It felt like every fiber of her being, every cell was calling out in need, and she heard Bumblebee match that call with a low inhuman cry full of raw yearning. She took her hands off his legs, and reached up, stroking the chest above her, trying to assuage his pain, when she felt the plates there slide out of the way, exposing his Spark.

There were no words to describe the beauty Bee's spark held for her. Unbidden, Lucien's face surfaced in her mind, and she saw him asking her why she kept shunning his gift, why she shunned the immortality he could offer her, and the answer she gave him: Because I like to eat. And, I want to walk in the light for awhile longer, Daddy. She thought she'd meant sunlight, but now she wondered. Maybe somewhere in her soul she'd known better, even then, long before meeting Bumblebee. Maybe her soul had been waiting for this light. His light. It glowed with the purest light she'd ever seen, not solid, but pulsating, nearly beating, and in time to the pulse she'd been feeling. It was, her-

(mate, you're my mate)

The thought seemed to come from outside her brain, and for one moment she thought she must be hearing what Bee was thinking, but deemed it an impossibility. The Spark was her Bee's soul, and she wanted to cup it in her hands, to feel its warmth, to

(mate, my mate I need you please)

be close to him. She reached for it, stretching her fingertips towards his soul, and the first of the pain found her, low and sneaking, hiding in the pleasure washing over her, but she ignored it, and kept reaching, so carefully so slowly, unable to stop, but needing to because she felt as though she was being torn from herself, hollowed out, and when she sobbed out, "Oh, God Bee." he looked at her, and then he DID stop her, cupping her in his hands before she collapsed.

She'd awakened to find herself cradled in his arms the next morning, Bee himself being a pain in the aft, refusing to discuss what happened. To explain exactly what had happened, because Lex was sure she didn't entirely understand it.

Annoying. As hell.

That was okay. She had plans for Bumblebee.