A/N: A half chapter, half interlude before the holidays kick in and the plot starts up again ;) Happy wintery holiday of choice!

"Maybe," Epps finally said, "someone dropped him on his head as a kid."

They were waiting by the edge of the training grounds as Ratchet took a look at their resident boss and flyboy both, although it was the latter that needed it most. The whole day had been a roller-coaster of heart-attacks in the making and Epps' tried and true methods of dealing with that were guns and humour, and since he suspected that pulling a gun now would be about as smart as taking on Megatron with a paintball gun, he settled for the second option.

Ironhide shifted next to him – a bit uncomfortably, if Epps read him right, but at least the cannons weren't out, so that was a start. Then again, their boss had proven himself more than capable of hammering their new Seeker into the ground without a problem at all, so it wasn't like those cannons would have been needed, anyway. Their Prime didn't show off often and it was easy to forget just what the big guy was capable of in battle but this particular display wasn't one Epps was likely to forget about any time soon. The guy could take on Megatron one on one. One new Seeker didn't have a chance in hell and Optimus had proven that without a shadow of doubt.

"He is a Seeker now," the weapons specialist finally sighed in response to Epps' remark. "They are not the most stable of builds."

Which was a lame-ass excuse and Epps knew it and gave a snort to show just what he thought of it, too. "Like frag. You didn't know him before. He's never been right in the head, so it's not like spouting wings'll make that much of a difference. The slag with Blackout's proof enough of that. Maybe bird-brain likes to fight but I don't exactly think Will's raising high hell in there about it, either."

That laugher had been alien and static and downright creepy – it was a 'Con build, and a laughing 'Con was a sure way to make any NEST team worth the name reach for their weapons – but that didn't mean half of it couldn't be the human having a blast of a time getting the crap beaten out of him by their boss, even if they'd lost the fight in less than half a minute. It was Lennox in there, after all, and while most Rangers in Epps' opinion were firmly in the range of 'pretty damn special in the head', Lennox really took the prize.

His radio made an insistent sound and at least Epps managed not to sigh as he picked it up. Paperwork, probably, or one of the million not-really-emergencies that NEST was so very capable of – and he had plans to whip them into shape about that sort of crap, but he also knew that Will had already tried as much and not really made much headway at all, which meant it would probably be an uphill battle the entire way.

He really didn't get paid enough to deal with that kind of slag.

"Epps." Still keeping an eye on the three mechs on the training grounds and one ear on Ironhide, and he gave it two weeks at the most before they could write him off as stark, raving mad from the job... or possibly suitably adjusted to his leadership position, knowing the clusterfuck that NEST sometimes was.

"Commander, this is ground control," a familiar voice replied – same guy Epps had already talked to once that morning, and while it was a bit unnerving sometimes just how much ground control kept an eye on, he was also learning to appreciate having some extra eyes to keep track of everything for him. Air control had the skies while ground control had Diego Garcia airport itself, but with the amount of runways and hangars the island had, that put a good chuck of the place directly in their domain. They could see a lot more up there than he ever could from ground level and had the experience to know when something didn't look right, and when dealing with giant, alien robots, that could make a whole fragging world of difference. "Is everything under control, sir?"

A long look at the mechs in question – and of course ground control would have noticed; those Energon swords lit up like a fragging Christmas tree – and then Epps shook his head. "Big Buddha and..." A pause as Epps realised he didn't actually know Will's new designation and then decided to play it safe, "... the Seeker got a little carried away with training. Doc's on it. It's under control."

"Copy that, sir. Thank you."

Returning the radio to its pocket, Epps watched the small group of mechs for a moment longer before he turned his head to look at Ironhide instead. "Ground control," he said, unnecessarily. "We'll have to introduce him to the rest of the humans here sooner or later. There's only so long we can tell 'em he's got scrambled processors from being frozen and locked away somewhere before rumours pick up. It doesn't exactly help he looks like Starscream. Blue optics and all the right insignias, sure, but the first thing anyone's gonna notice is the Seeker-thing and then they're gonna start jumping to conclusions. The longer you wait, the harder it's gonna be."

Ironhide's response was little more than a low rumble. "I am aware." And he probably was. He sounded annoyed in the same way he usually did when he was reminded of something unpleasant, at least. "It will be Ratchet's decision."

"You know he ain't that much worse than the twins," Epps said quietly. "They're a menace any way you look at it, and we learned to cope with them. As long as he keeps in mind he's big and we're small and squishy, we can cope. We adapt, Ironhide. It's humanity in a nutshell. You want him to stay human a little, then fragging well let him hang out with us, too. You're great company but you ain't human."

Which was true, too, and Ironhide didn't respond as they both kept watching the show on the runway. Ratchet did something to one wing that vaguely reminded Epps of popping a dislocated shoulder back into place and he winced in sympathy when the resulting snarl from Will was clear even at their distance. Ironhide had mentioned that the things were touchy about their wings and the body language Epps saw now only cemented that fact. The wings swept back the moment Ratchet let go-

-don't touch that!-

- And Epps' lips twitched slightly in almost-amusement. "Expressive, ain't he?"

Ironhide snorted. "They wear their emotions on their wings. They act first and think later. Whatever their first reaction is, they will usually show it. The 'Con slaggers have been at it for long enough to learn but they are still only passable at it. Pay attention to the wings and you will know what goes on in his processors. He has enough self-control to hide some of it but not when he forgets to pay attention."

Focusing on the wings this time, Epps could see his point. Ratchet moved on to something on Will's arm and the wings slowly swept forward again as the medic stopped paying attention to them. Optimus said something or another that Epps couldn't make out at that distance, and the wings perked a bit in what he assumed was interest. Autobots as a general rule didn't do body language to nearly the same extent that humans did but it was there if you knew what to look for. With Seekers, you obviously didn't have to look very hard.

"There's no way to hide him, is there?" Epps commented dryly as he realised something else. "You can pretend to be a truck. He turns into a plane and he's gonna to forget about realism the moment something shiny shows up, ain't he?"

"He is a Seeker," Ironhide replied just as dryly and Epps was starting to get the impression that it really was the catch-all explanation to everything Will-related now. "By definition, they were meant to be displayed. They were a powerful force on Cybertron and saw no reason to hide what they were. Why should it be any different on a planet populated by organic creatures they see as so far beneath their notice that you may as well not be sentient at all?"

Which made entirely too much sense when put that way and Epps resisted the urge to sigh. The mental list of things that needed handled was steadily growing longer, and the more time he spent around his former boss in Seeker-shape, the more clear the nightmare visions of future stacks of paperwork got. Ironhide and Sideswipe and the twins were bad enough when they got going. He really didn't look forward to seeing what sort of incidents a Seeker could cause when it really got started, and he knew his friend well enough to know that even without that Seeker-brain in there, he'd still have been a disaster looking for a place to happen. Will Lennox had been bad enough with Earth-based, human-sized weapons. Thirty feet tall and armed with a Gatling gun and missiles...

"I'm blaming any ulcer on you guys," Epps finally said. "You and Primus. Just sayin'."

Ironhide snorted but Epps knew enough of his body language to see the amusement in it. "If so, it will only be reasonable to leave you in Ratchet's capable hands if the need arises."

"His bedside manners suck. Try it and I'll stick a tracker on your ass before your next check-up."

"I could let you walk back, human," the weapon specialist rumbled.

"Half an hour more I can't do paperwork? Ain't much of a threat."

There was the low rumble of an engine but the dark mech didn't comment and Epps felt himself cheer up a little at the slice of almost-normal life in the middle of the chaos of everything else. Wouldn't do much good in the long run, probably, but for now it might help his patience last a little longer before he snapped at someone – god knew he had a list a mile long of people who needed reamed.

Silence fell once more as Ratchet grabbed one of Will's hands firmly to examine it and the wings swept back again in obvious annoyance... and for a long, absurd moment, Epps was reminded of nothing so much as a huffy pigeon. That mental image didn't quite compute with the thirty-foot metal creature he was staring at – although it would probably make their next run-in with Starscream marginally more entertaining – and he almost managed to turn his sudden laugh into a cough instead.

Almost. Ironhide gave him a questioning look, and Epps waved his hand dismissively. "'S nothing." Another glance at the Seeker and he took the chance to ask a question that had been pretty near top of the to-do list since the whole mess had kicked off. "What's his designation, anyway?"

The Cybertronians, 'Bots and 'Cons alike, tended to have some pretty damn creative names – fitting in most cases, but still pretty damn creative most of the time – and from what he knew about Seekers, they were about as determined to be special little snowflakes when it came to that as in any other area. Names like Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker didn't exactly inspire confidence in whatever name someone might have thought up for the most recent member of the pigeon-squad, so when Ironhide replied with a short series of Cybertronian sounds that were very alien and very, very incomprehensible, Epps just stared at him for a moment.

Ironhide had obviously noticed because he repeated the sounds a moment later, slower and clearer – not that it helped Epps' comprehension of it any. Although there was something about the sounds...

"Again," he said with a slight frown and this time he paid close attention when Ironhide complied. Alien sounds, sure, but not as alien as it could have been based on the times he had heard their large, mechanical allies speak Cybertronian among themselves, and with a bit of adaptation...

"Again." He definitely had Ironhide's curiosity as the mech complied again, and this time he nodded once, determined as the sounds faded. Not as alien as it could have been and hell, he had been around the Autobots for long enough to get at least a vague feel for the language and if that was how they wanted to play, he wasn't about to back down.

Epps looked at Ironhide as he repeated the sounds right back at him, slowly and carefully, duplicating what he could and adapting to a human voice what he couldn't, but he was too tired from everything that had happened to manage much more than a wry smile when Ironhide's optics shuttered in a very human display of brief surprise. "Now, what's the English version of what you just said?"

Ironhide was silent for a long moment as he glanced at the being in question. "Cybertronians names are complicated. They carry more layers than our human-based designations do. An approximation of Major Lennox's would be in the range of 'dominant-strong-stubborn-unyielding'."

It took less than a second for that description to click for Epps and not much longer to realise why Ironhide had given him the Cybertronian designation first.

"Will. His designation is Will." Ironhide merely nodded and Epps had no idea of how to react – relief that there was enough of his friend in there to keep the name, worry about how to handle it, and in the end he simply closed his eyes and resisted the urge to rub his temples at the beginnings of a headache. "People are gonna to ask questions. You know that. We can get away with saying he got stuck in ice and kept as a lab-rat in that hellhole but no fragging way we can get away with calling him 'Will' and not have people wonder what the hell's going on."

"It was his choice," Ironhide responded and whatever he might feel about that, he didn't show.

Silence fell again as they both returned to watching the show on the training grounds, some comment or another from Ratchet that made Optimus shift with a vaguely guilty expression. Probably trying to get out of a closer look at the claw-marks on his armour, going by their boss' usual reluctance when it came to medical attention, although with Ratchet around, it would be a lost cause.

Will shifted again, wings sweeping back and up in a grand gesture of what Epps suspected was smugness, and he felt something inside of him twist painfully. They couldn't call him 'Will', not without raising a whole lot of questions they didn't want to answer, and they couldn't take the name from him, not when it was the only thing human left about him. Rock and a hard place and Epps had long since stopped counting how many times he had wished he could go back and change things and stop it from ever happening in the first place. Before had been good, before had been comfortable, before had been a well-oiled 'Con-killing machine... now they had to get used to new dynamics, a new human commander, and a Seeker that was rapidly teaching Epps just why the things had such a reputation in the first place.

Reputation. Something about that word clicked and Epps looked back to Ironhide, some vague idea slowly taking shape. "Our team knows what happened and we're known for being a bit..." A bit strange on a good day and well into 'insane' on a bad one, and Epps took a slow breath before he continued. "A bit off in the head already, even for a NEST team. We ain't known for being normal. In-team, 'Will' could work. If anyone else picks up on it, it could be explained with us being a bit off in the head and using it as a way to remember him." Another long pause as he tried to figure out how to put it into words right. "You said they've got ego. We call the 'Con fraggers by human designations but we want to piss 'em off. Will's on our side. Could we get away with using that? Say the pigeon doesn't want a name in an inferior language like the human ones. Call him 'the Seeker' if they can't pronounce the Cybertronian one, and don't use an Earth-based designation at all. He gets to keep his name where it matters and we don't get to deal with a slagload of questions we can't answer. If someone wants a translation, tell 'em the same you told me – Cybertronian names got layers so if they want it right, they gotta go ask him themselves. I guarantee you nobody's gonna take you up on that offer."

And maybe it was a stupid idea but frag it, it was all he had to work with and if it wasn't because he got where Lennox was coming from, he would have chewed him out for keeping the name in the first place. As it was, he would settle for damage control and kick up security around the human-turned-Seeker's small human family and make a point of using that human name whenever he could.

"It would be a suitable solution," Ironhide agreed, and the smooth agreement made Epps suspect he was going over things the Autobots had already decided on. Not that it really mattered in this case. He would feel a bit annoyed at being left out of the loop but this was also Autobot business, not human, and he could deal with it, too.

On the training ground Ratchet made a sharp-sounding comment that Epps couldn't quite make out, and then the medic made some firm gestures in the general direction of the infirmary. Optimus and Will both looked like they wanted to argue for a second, and then common sense took over and they followed along without further complaints. It was probably for the better, too, Epps mused. He had seen enough wounded mechs to know some serious injuries when he saw them and going by appearances, Will could use some medical attention.

"Ratchet's gonna have his aft," Epps finally said as they watched the trio leave.

Ironhide snorted. "He challenged a Prime," he said, like that would explain everything, and Epps wasn't sure if it was a good sign that he had been around for long enough that it actually made sense. Too tired to really think about it, he settled for a sigh.

"And he wants a rematch." A pause, and then he shook his head. "Definitely dropped on his head as a kid."

Going by Ironhide's silence, it wasn't a theory he was going to get a lot of arguments against.