AN: I figure Sparkplug's about 37, so I've made Sarah the same age. Spike, according to the Transformers Wiki is 14. YOB = Year Of Birth

So to recap.

Sparkplug YOB - 1947

Sarah YOB - 1947

Spike YOB - 1970

Sarah had herded the two Witwicky's into a corner booth and gone into the kitchen to make them 'a proper breakfast', leaving them alone. Elbows propped on the table, Spike grinned at his flustered father; a position he rarely found himself in.

"This explains a lot about why we never came back here. Looks like Sarah's been holding the torch for awhile."

"Now you don't go getting any ideas son. Sarah and I are just friends, that's all." He brought the cup of coffee to his mouth and took a sip of the powerful black brew Sarah made for the truckers that came in at all hours of the night.

"Didn't look that way to me." Came the cheeky reply.

"Look Spike, when a woman gets emotional they stop thinking with their heads. That kiss meant nothing."

"And that's where you're wrong." Sarah's chilly voice broke into the conversation. Spike and Sparkplug looked up guiltily at being caught talking about her behind her back. She placed the plates of eggs, sausage, homefries and pancakes down. "You two eat up. I got Al watching the door and makin' sure you don't sneak out when you're done 'cause you and I got a long overdue talk ahead William." Sparkplug gulped as Sarah stiffly walked back into the kitchen.

The rest of the meal passed in an uncomfortable silence. When the dishes were collected by another waitress Sarah was there with crossed arms and determined eyes. Sparkplug sighed.

"Spike. You head on home, I'll give you a call when I've got everything squared off with Sarah."

"But dad ...!"

"But nothing. This is a private conversation. Go on."

"That was quite a floor show, what was goin' on in there? Who's the femme?" Jazz asked as soon as Spike was in the car, voice brimming with intense curiousity. Spike glanced back before answering.

"Her name is Sarah. She and dad have been close friends since they were kids." His brow furrowed in uncertainty. "I thought they were. They must have had a fight, and it must have been bad because I haven't seen her since I was almost nine." Settling back into the seat he shrugged. "At least they're talking it out. I don't want to have to wait another five years to go back."

"You said it. I think I'd like to meet that smooth femme myself someday." That got a tired chuckle out of Spike.

"Don't worry about that, once they're friends again we'll visit a lot more often. You'll get your chance."

From the upstairs window above the diner sign, Sarah and Sparkplug watched the younger Witwicky leave. Looking extremely uncomfortable, Sparkplug rubbed the back of his neck and broke the awkward silence between them.

"About that night ... there aren't enough words ..." He paused as Sarah held up her hand.

"No, I aughtta be the one apologizin'. You didn't do anythin' I didn't want you to. Fact is Sparky, I was selfish. I let my own desire take the place of common sense an' I was stone-cold sober t'boot. You weren't. I took advantage when you was th' most vulnerable." Came the confession that was a long time in coming. Sarah watched as a multitude of emotions crossed the face of the man that had formerly been her best friend. Most recognisable of them were surprise, relief, wonder, realisation, and finally, rage.

"All these years! I've been wracked with guilt all these years, thinking I did the unthinkable to my best friend when I was hammered! Now you're not only telling me you welcomed it, but you were doing it sober and could've stopped me!" He rocked back on his heels and began to pace like an angry tiger as another realisation dawned. "It all makes sense now, why my wife never wanted you around. She knew. She knew you loved me! Why didn't you ever say anything?! Why didn't she?!"

"Jus' wasn' proper, asking a guy for a date. Just wasn't done. You'd already made your choice an' I had to respect that. Could only hold my tongue an' hope you'd see me there, waitin' for you. Then you married her. Had a son. She probably didn' tell you 'cause she might'a thought if you knew how I felt, she'd lose you." Sarah turned her head to the side, unable to look him in the eyes as she admitted the last two lines. "Don't blame her. I would'a done the same thing."

Groaning, Sparkplug grabbed the chair behind him and plopped into it, face buried in his hands. Sarah followed his example with a sigh, hands folded in her lap, crossed ankles, and face drawn with emotional exhaustion.

"So now what?"

"I don' know Sparky. I'd like us t'stay friends at the very least. An' for the record, I still love you. Allus have." At that, Sparkplug stood up and silently made his way to the door. Once there, he paused and spoke without turning his head.

"I need time, Sarah. This is too big, too much information to take in now." Unseen by Sparkplug, Sarah cast a guilty glance at a different door. "Remembering the role women and girls were expected to play back then, I think I understand a bit better. So I'll be in touch."

And he was gone; leaving Sarah to sigh in relief.