Author's Note:

Cliffjumper POV! :D

Cliffjumper had begged, had PLEADED with Optimus to let him go with them this round. It was nothing dangerous, he had argued—they were just helping transport the DYNGAS from point A to point B and he was more than a little stir crazy. He hadn't been let out of the base once since the torture incident, and he claimed that Optimus was just coddling him like he was something breakable.

The Prime's optics had tightened a little, and he had admitted that he was hesitant to send Cliffjumper back into action. But, his judgment had remained the same that Cliffjumper shouldn't engage in possible dangerous activities—including the threat of 'Cons—because he reasoned that Cliffjumper was still down one hand. He asserted that the difference between one hand and two could be the difference between life and death, and had maintained that Cliffjumper would stay in the base until fully repaired.

This left a very cranky and bored Cliffjumper with the easily perturbed Ratchet and three humans; Nightstalker was still lost in the back. Needless to say, Ratchet was going to blow a spark plug soon.

Cliffjumper hovered over Ratchet's shoulder for the umpteenth time as the medical bot slaved over his new hand. Cliffjumper tried valiantly not to be impatient, but his foot began to tap anyways as he watched the excruciatingly slow progress.

"Doc? When's—"

"I told you already!" the medical officer barked out, eyes unmoving from the detailed hand. "I don't know WHEN your hand will be finished, but it will still be well over a week! These are very sensitive and meticulous rewiring I need to be doing!"

Cliffjumper huffed at Ratchet's outburst, muttering, "Well, can't you speed up the process just a little bit—"

Ratchet heaved an extremely frustrated groan. "By the All Spark, Cliffjumper, until I get this done you are hereby BANNED from my laboratory, got that?"

"But—"

"If you'd stop hovering and let me do my job, this would be going much faster! Now get out of here!"

Cliffjumper groaned too, grumbling the whole way out of his area. Jack, Miko, and Raf looked up at him, and Miko elbowed Jack.

"C'mon, Cliff," she said, waving him over. "Let's watch some TV!"

Cliffjumper heaved a sigh, crossing his arms. "Look," he said, refusing to let a bite in his voice. "To me TV is as dull as it gets. I can't even engage in a video game! I can't even go for a drive!" He shook his head at the three humans that always strove so hard to keep him entertained. "I am bored out of my central processor, and I need OUT of this place. Some kind of activity, something!"

Huffing, the idea presented itself in his mind so quickly Cliffjumper almost didn't think about it. Could he manage to do it? It caused a prominent shiver of unrest to tremble through him, and before he could discourage himself and persuade himself that he wasn't ready, Cliffjumper accessed his communicator.

"Hey, Nightstalker!"

There was nearly an audible jump from the other side of the line. It was quiet for a moment, and then she finally said, "Um . . . Hello?"

Cliffjumper gave a true laugh at the bewildered tone of her voice. "Hey yourself! Get back out here, let's have some fun!"

His spark was slamming hard against the plating of his chest, and even though his vocal processor was squeezed tight, Cliffjumper refused to give in to his fear. Not this time—not ever.

"Um . . ." Her voice was hesitant. "I don't think so."

"C'mon," Cliffjumper said, putting his hand on his hip. "Don't make me drag you out your own room. C'mon, let's go to the back and wrestle or something!"

He heard her breath catch over the line. "No," she said with a noticeable tremble in her voice. "No, no I don't think that's a good idea."

Cliffjumper shrugged. "Okay, no problem, no wrestling. But seriously, we've gotta do something. Doc's tired of me hovering, and if I ask when my hand is getting done again I'm sure I'm going to get a wrench to my helm. And THAT won't be pretty." He chuckled, but from the silence across the line he realized that she hadn't seen Ratchet wielding a wrench yet so she didn't understand why they had to be afraid. Cliffjumper shook his head. He was liable to get one thrown at him soon, so she'd be sure to get an eyeful . . .

"How about self-defense?" he asked her over the communicator. "Fighting isn't your strong point, and I know you can do it. C'mon, please?"

It took a long moment, but finally she gave in. "Okay . . ."

"Good!" he burst. "I'll meet you in the training room in the back!"

Cutting off communications, Cliffjumper heard Miko burst, "You mean you're going to teach her how to fight? Can I come watch?"

Cliffjumper chuckled. "Sure thing! You guys want to come too?"

Raf's eyes widened. "Sure!"

Jack shrugged. "Why not? Let's go!"

Cliffjumper chuckled, putting Miko up on his shoulder and Raf on the other. He carried Jack in his hand. "Hey, Doc! We're gonna be messing around in the back!"

Cliffjumper started to go, but heard Ratchet bark back, "Don't break anything!"

He shook his head, cajoling back, "I'll be sure to break something or another just to get on your nerves!"

However, before they could make it into the hallways, Ratchet threatened back, "And who's the one making your hand?"

Cliffjumper flinched then. "Ouch, all right, you win." Cliffjumper sent an aggrieved expression to the three humans with him. "And you see? THAT'S why you don't mess with the Doc. He always gets his way."
Miko groaned audibly. "DON'T remind me!" she burst in agreement. "I think this medical business gets to his head!"

Cliffjumper grinned, looking over at her. "You know? You're really starting to grow on me, chicka. Me and you, we're gonna have to pull a prank on the ol' Doc."

Her eyes widened large. She leaned forward, adamant. "Really? Do you think we could?"

Cliffjumper laughed generously then. "Of course!" he said, moving deeper into the base with a steady walk. "I can handle anything, and I bet you're sneaky enough for anything."

"Now hey," Jack said from in Cliffjumper's hand. He looked down. "Ratchet's been working really hard for you, Cliffjumper. I doubt he'd appreciate a prank."

Cliffjumper shook his head. "No, you see, Jack? You're just like Arcee. You don't relax for anything, and that's just what's wrong with the Doc. He just needs something to spice up his life!"

Raf looked a little uncertain. "Cliffjumper, I'm really not sure that's the best idea . . ."

"Of course it is! You two boys are just sticks in the mud. Count on the girl to be braver than either of you."

Jack lifted his head then with a challenge. "Hey!"

Cliffjumper shrugged, jostling poor Raf. "Hey yourself," he threw back. "Whaddya say, Miko? Got any exciting ideas?"

Her eyes alighted with a torrent of different ideas. "What would happen if we glued together his medical instruments? Oh, he'd freak!"

Cliffjumper laughed as they came into the open training room, Nightstalker not in sight. He began to let them down. "Great idea! Primus, and so cruel too! The Doc wouldn't know what to do—I bet he'd finally blow a spark plug!"

"But what if he needs them?" Raf asked worriedly as he got off Cliffjumper's hand.

Cliffjumper rubbed his chin in thought. "All right, I suppose you make a liable point."

"And he IS making your hand, and fixed you up," Jack reminded him. "Ratchet's worked hard to repair you."

Cliffjumper sighed then, dropping his face in his palm. "All right, nothing cruel . . ." His lips twitched as he looked down on Miko. "All right, let's do something that really shows how much I appreciate his work. How about we spam his computers with some animation of a cat that yells out how much I love him?"

Miko giggled, a grin splitting her face open. "That's perfect!" she agreed. Her eyes popped open. "Cliff, what if we painted all of his tools pink?"

"With red hearts!" Cliffjumper finished, bellowing with laughter. Miko collapsed into laughter too, the two delinquents plotting Ratchet's downfall. It was only when Jack nodded pointedly that Cliffjumper turned around, laughter slowly tapering off.

Nightstalker stood awkwardly in the room with them, and Cliffjumper's spark skipped a beat with apprehension. They were alone. If she wanted to hurt him now, she could because the humans couldn't protect him. Well, actually, her weapons were still offline, but that was about to change . . .

Instead, running high off the mischievous plotting against Ratchet with Miko, Cliffjumper sent the former Decepticon a smile. "Hey there," he said. "Nice to see your face again. Ready for a bit of tutoring?"

She gnawed uncertainly on her lip. "But . . . I don't have any weapons—"

"Yeah, that," he said. Cliffjumper walked up, trying to still the uncertainly of his spark for his next actions. "Here. Let me get you online for this."

Nightstalker flinched back violently from him, nearly bolting from the room. "I—I don't think . . . don't think that's a good idea!"

His brow puckered at her apprehension. "Calm down, now," he said, reaching out his hand again. She cringed again. "I'm not going to hurt you. And don't worry about the weapons being online—it's fine."

Still, she was scared. Cliffjumper frowned. He had been sure that he was going to be more afraid—he was putting her weapons back online! That in itself was enough to freeze up his joints because she could attack him (though he doubted she would) and it drug up terrifying memories of the torture chamber. Worse yet, onlining her weapons meant he would have to touch her, and the prospect of touching her without feeling pain was impossible to fathom.

Cliffjumper gave a small gesture. "Calm down," he soothed to her, unbelieving that he was offering condolences to her instead of the other way around. "Let me online you."

Nightstalker shied away again, looking tiny compared to Cliffjumper. Dear Primus, she was even smaller than Arcee . . . "I . . . I don't th-think that's such a good idea," she stuttered uncertainly.

Cliffjumper kept his hand outstretched, but didn't move forward anymore. "And why not?"

Humans temporarily forgotten, she whispered ashamedly, "You can't possibly trust me alone with you with my weapons online . . ."

Before she could back away again and before he could persuade himself to believe her words, Cliffjumper reached forward and onlined her weapons before she could protest again. His spark pounded hard with the knowledge that she could now hurt him if she chose, but he felt accomplished that he had crested another mountain of his fear.

"Sure I trust you," he said, thankful that his vocals didn't quaver. He backed up then, watching Nightstalker's wings flutter like mad. "Now, let's get this little training session started. Come at me!"

Her orange eyes blinked up, wide and horrified.

Cliffjumper gave a little shrug, fingers splayed on his one hand. "Look, I don't know what you can do yet, so just come at me. I've got to have a place to start. Attack me!"

She flinched hard at his wording. "I can't do that . . ." she whispered, scared stiff at what he was implying. "I—I don't even have weapons . . ."

Cliffjumper rolled his eyes then. "Come on, now, you've got plenty of weapons." Her gaze flicked back up to him, and his jaw tightened in fear. He wouldn't give in, he wouldn't let it conquer him . . . "You've got that tiny little machine gun, and you got that wicked blade of yours." That blade that had hacked apart his leg before the venom burned straight through—

Cliffjumper caught his breath, ignoring the repercussions of the torture chamber. "You've got your whips, and your barbed chains. You've got that lava you're so known for, and a limited supply of venom—" Cliffjumper choked off a second, struggling not to tremble. Fear was trying to choke his throat. The pain was coming back, surging its ugly head—her orange optics blazed without mercy—

No. Cliffjumper shook his head, focusing on her now. She was tiny, scared, and more scared than he was. Her optics were wide with apprehension now, worried about even having her weapons online. Her wings were still fluttering like a trapped butterfly. She was just like a butterfly, small and pretty and harmless—

But carried such potential for harm, like a poisonous butterfly.

Cliffjumper shook his head. No, just a butterfly. He focused in on her wings that continued to flutter, waving open and shut restlessly with the need to fly. However, they stopped suddenly, as if realizing he was staring at them. His spark lurched uncertainly.

"Keep moving your wings like that," he found himself saying. Her optics jumped up to him.

"Wh-What?"

Cliffjumper nodded vigorously. "Keep doing it. It . . . it helps me." She began to do it again for him, and at her confused expression, a self-conscious smile tipped his lips up. "You remind me of a butterfly when you do that," he told her freely. "It reminds me that butterflies are harmless, just like you."

Her mouth trembled. "I'm not harmless. Not . . . after . . ."

Cliffjumper nodded. "But now you are. Right now you couldn't hurt a fly. So it works."

Nightstalker crossed her arms, chafing them. "It helps me too," she confessed quietly. "I want to fly, and I can't, so this is the closest it gets."

Cliffjumper smiled for once at her, the smile true even though his spark still lurched a little uncertainly. "So it works."

An impatient groan punctuated their conversation, and Cliffjumper flicked his eyes to the three humans at the side sitting crisscross. Well, that is, except Miko who was sprawled dramatically across the floor with boredom. "Hurry up and fight already!" she burst out. "I'm tired of waiting!"

Cliffjumper chuckled at her disdain at the far side of the room. "Fine then, Miss Drill Sergeant," he called out to her. "We'll get busy!" Cliffjumper looked back to the doubtful Nightstalker and shrugged. "Like I was saying," he continued, "you've got weapons, you've just got to be inventive in the way you use them! Here, let out your whips."

His vocals grew a lump right after he said that. He swallowed, surprised he had managed it, and Nightstalker's optics grew large. "What?"

"That's what I said," he repeated. "Go ahead and let your whips out."

Filled with hesitation, Nightstalker tentatively let her whips coil out and rest limp. Cliffjumper felt his arms twitch in remembrance of what those whips could do to him before he shook it off with a shake of his head.

"Okay, now attack me."

Her orange optics filled with horror. "WHAT?" She shrank back, staring in shock. "You can't be serious . . ."

He tried to force away the trembling. "Very serious," he said. Cliffjumper waved his hand. "I am a warrior, after all. I know how to catch the whips now that my arms are free this time." Thank Primus his voice didn't trip over that sentence . . . "So go ahead. You won't hurt me."

Cliffjumper's spark filled with a curious compassion when SHE began to twitch like a leaf in the wind. "I—I can't do that," she stammered, dropping her head. "Not after—I can't. I-I-I don't want to hurt you . . ."

Cliffjumper nodded. "I know, and you won't. I'm ready this time. Come on—attack."

Nightstalker finally looked him directly in the optics. "I CAN'T," she repeated stronger, a tremor in her voice. "Not when I can see how scared you are."

Cliffjumper blinked at her, truly caught off guard by her deathly precise observation. He dropped his head briefly. "Scrap, thought I hid that well . . ." Finally, he shook his head, looking back up at her orange optics. "I know I'm scared. But that's also why I need you to attack me. I've got to get over this someday, and the quicker I can the better. So go ahead. I'm ready."

He watched her hung head and the way she swiped at her face. He felt his blue optics widen. She was crying? "Look," he said sympathetically, "you don't even have to hit me if you want to. Just throw the whip at me. Just do that."

Nightstalker finally lifted a trembling arm, and flicked the whip out so that it barely rolled towards him. Her surprisingly timid nature astounded him, but it was also funny—Cliffjumper barked with laughter, shaking his head.

"C'mon, now!" he encouraged her with a rakish grin, finding this easier and easier the longer they were back here. "Put your back into it!"

The tiny black femme bit her lip hard, wings unconsciously fluttering. "Uh . . ." She flicked the whip again, hardly hard enough to be harder.

Cliffjumper shook his head with a chuckle. "C'mon, Nightstalker. I know you've got an arm in you. How about we start like this—at least get your hand above your waist." The quirk of a smile pulled his lips, and his optics twinkled mischievously. "That would help lots."

Nightstalker quivered again, but finally threw the whip towards him with a bit more force than usual, getting it to snap in the air. "Aha!" he burst, inadvertently making her jump. "That's much better! Now see? You're not hurting me, and honestly, it's kinda fun seeing how much you hesitate. Now harder! Show me some strength!"

Cliffjumper grinned more seeing that his easy-going attitude and smile was starting to rub off on the tiny seeker. Her extremely tense position began to relax a little, and she lashed the whip out with more confidence than before. Cliffjumper smirked at her.

"Is that all you've got?" he teased lightly, suppressing a shiver because he KNEW she was a master with her whips. Well, a master when her prey was tied up—Cliffjumper shook it off with a lop-sided grin. "C'mon, use the Primus-given strength I know you've got in you!"

Nightstalker lashed out the whip again, this time with the most force he had seen yet. He laughed then, eyes sparkling at her. He took a step forward into her range, ignoring the way his spark leapt uncomfortably. "All right, good. Now try to attack me!"

She balked. "Uh . . . But—I don't—"

"Want to hurt me," Cliffjumper said with a wave of his hand. "No worries. Remember? I'm ready for you this time. So go ahead."

Nightstalker took a deep breath to steady herself. Cliffjumper's lips twitched at the cute hesitation she showed, and then she finally threw the whip out, albeit a whole lot softer than before. Cliffjumper's hand snatched out with blinding speed and he wrapped the tip of the whip around his hand, making her gasp and stagger forward a couple steps.

Pride busted in his chest—he still had it.

"See?" he said, tugging on the whip. Nightstalker tugged back, trying to get free without any success. Cliffjumper let a chuckle rumble through his chest, and he pulled her closer. She squeaked a little, dragged along easily with the whip until she was right in front of him. Her wings perked up and tensed, and Cliffjumper grinned down at her.

"See, this is what you DON'T want to happen," he asserted. "You let someone catch your whips like this and it isn't going to be good news for you. You're so small I could swing you around easily. Smash you into some walls, or whatever." Her orange optics were huge at what he was implying, and he gave a shrug, grinning down at her. "So I'm here to teach you how to get free—"

"Cliffjumper, Optimus and the team are—"

Cliffjumper yelped, unprepared to hear Ratchet's voice in his ear. "Sweet mother of Primus!" he growled into the communicator. "You scared the slag out of me, Doc! What is it?"

Ratchet's irritated grunt filled the other end of his communicator. "Optimus and team are being waylaid by humans of all things. I assumed you would want to know. Get back up here."

Cliffjumper rolled his eyes, smirking into the line. "Fine then, you cranky old coot. We're coming." He sent an overly aggrieved expression to Nightstalker and the humans. "Doc wants us back up front." He let Nightstalker's whip fall from twisted around his arms, and she jumped back from him like he was fire. He didn't say anything about it as she raveled the whips back into her arms. Instead, he knelt to the humans. "Hop on."

Then, a bright idea lit up in his head. "Come here, Nightstalker!" he said to her. She looked surprised, but approached hesitantly.

"Um . . ."

When Miko jumped in his hand first, Cliffjumper grinned and deposited the girl on Nightstalker's shoulder. She stiffened audibly, wings perking tightly, but she didn't move for fear of Miko sliding off. "I know you're good buddies with Raf and 'Bee now," he said, picking up Jack next. "But you need to cozy up with the rest of us too." Before she could protest, he put Jack on her other shoulder. She held perfectly still, as if he had just put two ticking bombs on her shoulders.

Cliffjumper chuckled as he picked up Raf and put the boy on his own shoulder. "Lighten up!" Miko burst to Nightstalker, grinning at her. "You're more paranoid than Ratch, of all people!"

Cliffjumper grinned. "C'mon, you guys. Let's go see what horrors the Doc's got for us."

As they headed back to the main room of the base, Miko made lots of small talk with the nervous Nightstalker. Cliffjumper's lips twitched. Yeah, things were getting pretty interesting around here, especially once they got her to relax.