==Sweet Vibrations==
By Ayngel
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers and I absolutely positively definitely will make no money out of any stories about Transformers
Once more a delay, but I'm determined to press on with this now!
Warnings: Smex, nothing explicit in this chapter but there will be. This chapter: Usual warnings for sexual concepts, sticky sex (not yet explicit - there might actually be some of this soon), virgin Bumblebee, alt mode non sticky overload and randy Autobots.
In this chapter: Megatron is less than amused. Spike and Chip despair as Rumble and Mirage try and find a way out of their predicament. Help is on the way, but Bumblebee has an attack of nerves about his 'first.'
~~Chapter 11~~
When Bumblebee had fled from Chip's house, his only thought had been flight. To run, to get away – escape the confines of that room…
Anything to cool the raging and unfamiliar sensations. Transforming, he had revved hard, screeching away and only vaguely aware that he was rolling towards the ocean.
He'd known that, at any moment, the Autobots would come after him. Curiously, this had mattered not - for as he flew down the deserted streets, something had begun to build, a simmering pressure deep inside, a warmth that spread from his core. He'd swung on to a track that led upwards to the cliffs at a speed Prowl would definitely have had him in the brig for – but damn it had felt good, only seeming to enhance the extremely pleasurable feelings.
He'd rounded a bend, revving hard, the pressure inside rising fast. Warmth had turned to fiery heat and he'd accelerated harder, his coolant systems responding with a burst as energon pounded in his conduits. Then, just as things had reached a point where surely something ought to happen – it had. A crackle of energy had burst through Bumblebee, sending him into a swerve, sparks scattering into the trees.
"What the…" the minibot had only just stayed on the tarmac. He'd screeched to a halt, sucking in air, his systems reeling. What the hell was that?
Yet despite the surprise, Bumblebee had felt – better. In fact quite – radiant. He'd been aware of very nice waves coursing gently through him, of a 'happy' feeling, of his engine ticking over smoothly as the revs died down and temperature settled. His HUD had registered all systems functioning in a synchrony they didn't usually achieve; heck – that had been all right!
And hey - he was a pretty splendid form, wasn't he? Even if he did have an 'older' Earth mode.
No wonder they all wanted him. The minibot had felt most chuffed at the thought. And that was what you needed to do when things got like that. Well my – that solved heaps of problems!
Not all, however. At the roar of engines in the distance, Bumblebee's euphoria had vanished abruptly. What was he thinking? Primus – it was a wonder they had not detected him.
A quick scan had showed that he'd triggered his 'blocker,' a device that could deflect detection on a limited basis. It was a useful asset, a gift from Optimus Prime when he'd been recruited to special ops. Obviously, it had worked – and from the sound of the engines, the Autobots had been headed not towards him, but further up the coast, maybe to where waves lapped against a long golden beach. Bumblebee had played there with Spike.
Special ops…Spike… Bumblebee's career must be in tatters now, his friendship ruined. The minibot's spark had ached. Those days seemed so far away now. But there'd been no time for such thoughts. Now, Bumblebee concentrated on getting to the top of the cliff. There, with the Autobots apparently distracted, he must figure out what to do. He needed to think – not least about his 'perfect match.'
Why, even now he was heating again – and it wasn't due to the steep road. The very idea of Rumble's pounding piledrivers sent little currents scurrying, making Bumblebee tingle in ways he never had before. Oh, he had to figure things out! He'd carry on up this track till he reached the cliff tops. It was good up there, windswept and fresh. Didn't Perceptor call it his 'inspiration place?'
But it was as he pulled up, far above the waves that churned on the rocks below, that the transmission came through. "Autobots, come in," said the cultured voice. "Optimus, Ironhide, anyone?"
A bolt of excitement went through Bumblebee. It was Mirage! Immediately into his processor came the memory of what Mirage was going to do – coupled with a sharp rise in the tingling. The one Autobot who understood him, who had gone to get his first…
Almost as fast, disappointment careened through his processor. Mirage agreeing to Rumble being his first? No way – not when even Sideswipe had been considered 'not up to scratch.'
"Autobots? Your assistance is required. Anyone…?" But wait - Mirage sounded in trouble.
Bumblebee activated his comm. "This is Bumblebee. Where are you?"
"Bumblebee, listen…" Although Mirage's voice was faint and crackly, relief was obvious. "You need to contact Seaspray and arrange for my immediate extraction. He'll know what to do. I'd say more, but I don't want to draw attention to my current situation."
/But Mirage I –/ Bee wanted to say that he didn't know where Seaspray was or how to contact him and he didn't see how he could possibly help, and that most of all, – even though it was shamefully selfish - he wanted to know about the other matter.
/Listen, Bumblebee, you need to trust me. I have - a very special mech with me./
An uncontrolled thrill went through the minibot. /What mech? You mean…/ But no. It couldn't be …
/Yes, Bumblebee, it is your first. However, I am duty bound to tell you that it is …/ the comm crackled, /a Decepticon./
Bumblebee knew it! This was incredible - he wanted to jump up and down! And now, he had a feeling about this – a really good one. /Hey – that's great!/ he yelled, unable to contain his excitement. /This Decepticon…/ and then he hardly dared ask, /it wouldn't by any chance be…/
/Bumblebee, pay attention!/ Mirage's voice was grim. /There are complications. Here are my coordinates. You must get Seaspray – or there will be no first…/and the com cut out.
Bumblebee found himself swimming in an agony of glorious euphoria and terrible fear. He was sure he knew who it was – and that meant the two mechs that he valued most in the universe were out there and in trouble. Well, the hell with Seaspray. At that moment, Bumblebee felt he could conquer the universe. He'd been in the ocean before hadn't he? What about that Atlantis place?
Yes - he would save them."Don't worry – I'm coming!" he yelled as he transformed.
….
Spike walked faster, pacing up the narrow clifftop road and noticing with dismay from the zigzagging rubber tyre marks that some Autobot had even come up here. If only it was Bumblebee; but even in his current state, the minibot would never drive that crazily. He had too much deeply inherent road sense, and he hated hills.
Still – at least from up there they'd maybe see what was going on. "D'you think Prowl believed us?" he panted. He still felt insufferably guilty at having lied to the Autobot second in command.
Chip wheeled harder to keep up, then gave in and activated the small engine that Wheeljack had attached to his chair. "Hell, Spike – did y'see how the Autobots were carrying on? How could we know Prowl wasn't right there with them?" he tried to reassure his friend.
"Yeah - the Autobots – I can't believe them. Why they were like – sex maniacs, or something!" Spike still couldn't get over it. "If anything's happened to Bee I'll never forgive myself." His feet stomped heavily on the tarmac. "And if that punk Rumble goes near him he's dead!" Spike slapped his fist into the palm of his hand.
"Spike – you really must look at this more scientifically," Chip reproached. "The Autobots were simply reacting to the equivalent of a hormone imbalance in humans. Haven't you ever seen how several of our kind will compete for a first date with an attractive member of the other sex? As for Rumble – well – there's a chemistry between certain humans too. A need to connect, to reproduce. It's all deep-seated genetic coding. Carly and I have discussed both issues - often."
Spike had been about to reluctanly agree. Chip was a scientist after all. But at the last part, his steps slowed abruptly. "You and Carly have talked about - that?"
"Yeah!" Chip shrugged. "Mainly in the context of your genetic coding."
"You WHAT…?
Chip's wheelchair engine chugged steadily, mingling with the cries of Seagulls wheeling in the distance. "I told you she liked you, Spike!"
"Yeah, but I didn't think …" Spike drew deep breaths of the sea air, trying to marshal his thoughts. Then a grin spread slowly over his face. "Wow …" he let out a sharp rush of air. "This has been some day!"
But Chip's face had changed. He was looking past Spike. "Oh no," he muttered. "Oh – NO!"
Spike turned sharply. There was a gap in the coastal scrub, between which the edge of the cliff was visible, jutting out over the ocean. Spike gasped. Poised near the edge was a distinctive yellow car. The sound of a revving engine sounded above the noise of the ocean and the cry of seagulls. Overwhelming joy at seeing his friend was immediately eclipsed by horror; for it was obvious what the minibot was about to do.
"NO! " Spike cried. "Bumblebee - it doesn't have to be like that… we can find you another 'first.' I thought it was hopeless with Carly, but it isn't…"
But it was too late. Bumblebee's tyres screeched briefly on the bare rock. There was a only brief pause before he took off, careening over the edge. A cloud of exhaust smoke lingered briefly.
Agonized, Spike could only stare. Bee would be smashed to pieces on the rocks under the cliff! But maybe not – VW beetles were tough cars. And maybe he'd had enough momentum to get beyond where the foaming surf churned?
Spike thought fast. He must help. It would still take at least twenty minutes to get up the winding slope. That could be too late. Through the scrub was a far more direct route. "I'm coming…" Spike started into it.
"You can't get through that way," Chip yelled. "There's a creek - its why they built a road!"
"I'll find a way!" Spike's voice wailed thinly in the sea air. "Why'd you have to tell him he had no compatible Autobots?" Sounds of crashing foliage followed.
"I didn't!" Chip yelled. "It was Teletraan One!"
"Darn it!" Releasing his throttle, Chip skittered away up the track.
It was only moments later that there came a sound of heavy footsteps behind him, accompanied by robot type noises. Chip froze in his chair. Had they been so busy talking they hadn't heard the Autobots come back?
But it wasn't any of the Autobots they'd seen near the town square. Instead, Seaspray appeared, clanking beside him, venting heavily. On the other side of Chip, a rather odd looking robot appeared. Chip gaped so hard he nearly ran off the road. The robot looked like… well – like a female.
Hell – Chip hadn't even thought there were any female transformers. He almost forgot Bumblebee. "Hey Chip," Seaspray panted throatily. "This is Alana – you know, my mer-friend. Nice robot form, eh?" He grinned sheepishly. "I got a message from Mirage. Had his tailpipe in a right knot. I was s'posed to pick him up before. We kinda got - waylaid."
Alana giggled above the clanking. But Chip, his thoughts scooting back to the yellow minibot, didn't share their mirth. "No…" he cried, accelerating. "But Bumblebee, he…." Breathless, he told Seaspray and Alana what had just happened.
Seaspray patted his shoulder. "I doubt if he's done the worst," he said. "It ain't that easy to die gettin' smashed up – Ratchet tends t'stick you back together – an' then its worse than before. I reckon he woulda missed those rocks. He probably went to find Mirage."
"Say, its all cool." Apparently in agreement, Alana was pulling to a halt. She pointed in the direction Spike had gone. "We can head into the creek down in the cleft back there and then out to sea. And we can pick up Spike on the way. Say – I can test my alt mode function – see if the well of transformation really made me a transformer!"
"Good idea!" Seaspray enthused. "We'll find Bumblebee, then go get Mirage. Don't worry Chip – Autobots are smart!" He started off eagerly, but found Chip's wheelchair jammed against his foot.
"You didn't really think you were going without me, did you?" Chip cried.
…..
Meanwhile on the Nemesis…
"Those fools are taking far too long!" Megatron paced, fists clenched as angry thoughts of the Constructicons traversed his processor. The leader had seen enough incompetency today to last a lifetime. "Can't you hurry them up? They'd better not be up to something!"
Starscream smiled, pleasantly. "I wouldn't count on it. Remember the power tower, Megatron? Tch…tch…tch…" he shook his head, "hardly the most reliable mechs. Now – far be it from me to question your judgement, but Soundwave did offer the valuable assistance of himself and the Insecticons. Had it been accepted, the traitors would probably be captured by now…"
"Silence!' the Leader roared. "None of my decisions are made without the ultimate tactical consideration of who is best for the job, Starscream!"
"If you insist. All the same, Soundwave is rather - upset."
Upset! Not only were his minions inept, they were becoming soft! Megatron thought of how the Constructicons had been all 'touchy feely' before they left. He shuddered. They needed toughening up, the whole outfit. Yes, that was what they needed.
Megatron saw that a smirk now covered the Seeker's face. The kind of smirk Megatron knew only too well: Starscream knew something.
"Well?" the leader bawled. "What?"
Starscream looked at him almost shyly. "I didn't like to say anything Megatron," he said. "Because I know how difficult it has been for you today, and how annoyed you get if you are overburdened by things that turn out not really to be important..."
"I am not one of those wimps out there!" Megatron roared. He rounded on the Seeker. "Now I'm only going to ask you once. What is the matter?"
Starscream swallowed, hard. That made Megatron feel a little better. At least he could still instil some semblance of terror within the impudent fool. "We have – a situation," Starscream said. "Code red – on the mainland. The Autobots are assembling on the beach. And they look – fired up."
He clicked a switch on the console. An image appeared, of familiar grounders transforming and weapons being brandished. "I have it on good authority – because I have a splendid espionage system Megatron – that they are going to attack our base."
Megatron peered at the screen. He bristled at the sight. But it wasn't that the Autobots were about to attack the Nemesis that made him boil inside, or that Starscream had once again delayed the transmission of information until the very last moment. Readying weapons and chattering excitedly, Prime's minions gleamed in the Earth sun. They just looked too damned infuriatingly cheerful.
But then a smile spread slowly over the silver face. "They won't have much to smile about when I've finished with them!" Megatron crowed. Oh how things could change! Here was the chance to lick his troops back into shape and to leave his brother in absolutely no doubt that the Decepticons were still going to conquer the universe. He noted with satisfaction that Prime was nowhere to be seen.
"Excellent Starscream!" he gloated. "Prepare the troops for battle. All of them - especially Devastator! We shall blast them into oblivion and then I shall lead the attack that shall destroy Optimus Prime once and for all."
"Um – Megatron – aren't you forgetting something?" Starscream raised an optic ridge. "The Constructicons are – busy. They're bringing in the traitors."
Oh yes. That. Why whenever the chance to decimate the Autobots became a real possibility did something always have to frag things up? Well Starscream could make himself useful.
"You and your trine will go and find the Constructicons!" Megatron snapped. "You will tell them they are required immediately, and then you will take over their duties. And you will detain the traitors until I return." He smiled. "Thrust and his trine will accompany me on this victory – along with Soundwave and the Insecticons. It is time they had some real Decepticon action to occupy their attention!"
He did not wait to answer the Seeker's howl of protest, but strode away. He would organize Decepticon army himself.
…
Meanwhile at Scavenger's playground...
It was hopeless. Every time Rumble went to activate his thrusters, a flurry of the fine sand lining the base of the pit clogged the intakes, making it impossible for them to function. "Well now whadda we do?" he yelled. "Stoopid Autobozo! You led me into this mess. Now what?"
Mirage hid his annoyance – and the fact that he now didn't know now what. He just hoped Seaspray had finished doing whatever had made him pant so hard into the com (a subject Mirage still didn't really wish to think of) and was now on his way. He glanced up to where six green forms could be seen through the murky water, poised on the rim of the chasm. At least they appeared equally uncertain as to what to do next.
"We're doomed!" Rumble yelled, throwing his hands up. A passing shoal of tiny fish scattered in fluorescent flecks and bubbles. "We're washed up. Finished! Why don't we just give up now?"
"Sounders is gonna hate me," he wailed. "I'll be cast out. Shunned. Disgraced. An ex Decepticon!"
Mirage decided that, given the tendency towards melodrama he'd seen from Bumblebee back at the base, Rumble and the yellow minibot were going to get on just fine. He thought it best not to mention that topic now, however; there was enough despair already. "Have you finished?" he said.
"No!" Rumble shouted. "You see them up there?" He gestured to the Constructicons. "You don't know nothin'! You wait till they get hold of us. You wait till Hook gets us on his operating table." He scowled. "You have no fraggin idea what happens on that thing…"
"Oh indeed I do," Mirage raised an optic ridge. "I have had occasion to be on it – only once, but it could have been worse. Hook really is a very good surgeon."
And that's not all. Mirage thought, remembering skilled green fingers, titillating examinations and some very nice medicine - though it was nothing like as exciting as being ravaged by the Insecticons and certainly not enough to let himself be captured now.
He devoted his energy instead to trying to contact Seaspray again. To his great relief, a crackly voice reassured him that the seagoer and his - consort - were not too far off. But there was more. Bumblebee seemed to be with them - and worse, some humans. Slag! Didn't Seaspray know the problems with them functioning underwater? Had lust completely destroyed his logic circuits?
Now what? The Alphamech despaired. A battle with Constructicons, lovesick submarines, drowning humans, a newly popped bot and his first? Mirage shuddered. This was definitely his last marine mission.
"Maybe I should enlighten you about that day I fragged up at that factory." Rumble was grumbling. "Afterwards, that lot up there strung me up with my feet stickin' in the air. And then they….."
"Rumble if you would just be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate." Mirage needed to think.
"What help?" the cassette sneered. "This has all been a waste of time!"
Mirage decided that forewarned was at least forearmed; besides which, some positive incentive may not go astray. "If you must know, I spoke to – your beloved," he said smoothly. "Assistance has been summoned and Bumblebee himself will soon be here. Now - you really don't want him to see you a hysterical wreck, do you?"
Instantly, the cassette stopped his ranting. His mouth fell open as his optics widened in wonder "Really?" his face took on an entranced, dreamy look. "Wow…"
And then, the scowl returned. "You're puttin' me on!" he yelled. "You just don't wanna face how bad its gonna be in about three breems from now!"
Mirage folded his arms. "Noop!" he said. "I can assure you I'm telling the truth, Rumble."
The cassette's expression went gooey again. "Bumblebee's comin' to save me? Why I don't…I can't…I – oh WOW!" But the change didn't last.
"I look like scrap!" Rumble yelled. "An' how am I s'pose to impress him stuck in a pit with a load of Constructijerks gawping at me?"
…..
The Constructicons stared down at the two mechs in the pit, who had looked worried, but now looked much less anxious than they should have.
"So – whadda we do now?" Bonecrusher growled. "Its obvious once we get down there our thrusters are gonna be useless. We ain't never gonna get back up again."
"And we can't form D-D-Devastator, its too n-n-narrow, he'll get s-s-stuck ," added Mixmaster.
"Well if someone had remembered to put our thrusters on 'marine function' we could have used them," Scavenger whined.
"And if you hadn't dug such a stoopid shaped hole…"
"Enough!" snapped Scrapper. "I'm thinking." He was - but without much luck. If only this were Grapple and Hoist. Mirage was so much trickier.
Scrapper recalled they had caught him, once. He'd been damaged in a fight and Hook, on Megatron's orders, had fixed him. The Alphamech had been really quite charming – he'd joined them in partaking of a Mixmaster brew. Scrapper had seen no wrong. It would soften him up for questioning…
Except that the Constructicons had ended up unconscious, and Mirage had escaped. Scrapper had sure had some fast talking to do that time. It made him very nervous now.
"That one never was the easiest Autobot to get your hands on!" Bonecrusher growled.
"Speak for yourself!" Hook said smugly.
"Well I wish we could just get on with it, "Long Haul groaned. "All this hangin' around. And no doubt I'm gonna be the one that carts them back to base." Scavenger gave him a quick hug. "I can help you!" he said.
"Will you be quiet!" Scrapper's crisp voice cut through. "Now pull yourselves together, Constructicons! We need to decide how to detain both subjects. It's not as if this is Grapple. We can – manhandle Mirage if necessary. A pleasant shudder went through the others.
"And Rumble?" Bonecrusher growled. Scrapper frowned. The little piece was a pain in the aft. Primus only knew he what he was up to here – this could even be a set up. One thing was for sure though - any manhandling of him and things could get extraordinarily difficult.
"I know, you could hang your cranehook down there an' grab them," Scavenger said. "Somebody could go down there…"
"You're volunteering?" Hook said with a glint in his optic.
But just then Soundwave's voice boomed down the comm. "Level of information – poor. Delay – unacceptable. Constructicon capture and communication skills – inferior. Seekers assuming control of operation."
Angry protests broke out as the Constructicons voiced their indignation. Nevertheless, Scrapper had never felt more relieved. He looked up happily to see lights glimmering in the distance, just as Starscream's shrill voice cut in "Constructicons – you are to hold position until I arrive. Then - and not until then - you will proceed to the south beach and form Devastator…"
Scrapper looked back at the lights, closer now. Something didn't seem right. "Say - but you're here already…"
"What? I've only just left! I repeat, you are to HOLD POSITION…"
But the others had activated their telescopic vision and were staring into the murky water. "What in the name of Primus is that?" Bonecrusher muttered.
Scrapper looked. He froze. The approaching craft were not Seekers at all. Instead they looked like – two giant Sharkticons?
Scavenger began to shake. "I told you," he squeaked. "Escapees from Quintessa. Nobody believed me. There's all sortsa things down here. Why'd you think I wanted them cameras!"
The lights were closer, and now great jaws grinned in streamline forms. Orders be darned, Scrapper wasn't hanging around. "Run for it!" he yelled.
"Hook caught his arm. "But what about Starscream?" he cried. With the previous conversation, pleasant memories had surfaced. The medic would have confessed now to being rather disappointed at not getting making better acquaintance with the Alphamech.
The Sharkticons were getting closer. "You really wanna take your chances with that?" Scrapper yelled. "There won't be any prisoners in a few clicks!"
He had a point. Hook joined the other Constructicons and they all took off into the gloom.
…
Meanwhile very close by…
Starry eyed, Spike gazed through the portal as Seaspray and Alana's novel alt forms cut through the deep waters. "You know, my Dad used to bring me out on a boat in this bay as a kid," he said. "And I used to look into the water, and wonder what was down there. But I never ever thought one day I'd find out from the inside of a giant robot fish."
Seaspray chuckled, his marine programming sweeping the sharkticon form as smoothly through the dark green water as if it were a normal submarine. "Can't say I ever thought I'd be takin' human passengers dressed up as a giant fish," he said. "But then…" his voice went mushy, "I never thought I'd fall for someone from an alien undersea race who had such imagination."
He gave a little wiggle. The other craft drew alongside Seaspray and nudged it, throwing Spike and Chip to one side in their seats. "The well of transformation has infinite possibilities," Alana said. "My father will be most pleased with this at the possibilities for protection of our race, although …" she snickered. "I rather like you as one of us too Seaspray."
They took up a kind of sea dance, swerving form side to side as they dived deeper and cut through the gloom. Spike clutched at the side of his seat, loving the ride, but Chip's face had turned a decided shade of green. "Never did develop a scientific means to get sea-legs," he groaned. He truly wished now that he hadn't insisted on coming.
But Spike was too entranced – and too happy for words. Bumblebee, now a passenger in Alana, was alive. And they were on a mission to rescue Mirage! Hell, when it came to stuff Autobots let humans do this was cool! It was almost as good as that trip to Cybertron and the acid rain adventure.
And Carly fancied him. Could the day get any better?
/Hey look – what's that?/ The two submarines slowed at Alana's question, and Spike saw large shapes looming up in the water, some resembling the hulls of ships. From their midst, six green forms emerged and moved quickly away.
"Say guys – isn't that the Constructicons?" Spike asked.
"It works!" Seaspray exclaimed. /Reckon we turned out good n'scary lookin' after all!/ and he gave another wide wiggling swerve.
Chip, glad that it was some time since they'd eaten and that he was at least spared the indignity of messing up Seaspray's upholstery, thanked heaven. At least they'd reached a destination. He wondered how Bumblebee was faring. The minibot had been deathly quiet since they picked him up. He doubted Bee was seasick. It must be disappointment at not being with Rumble.
Yes, poor Bee. He, Chip, must keep his wits about him. Once they'd done whatever it was they had to do now, Chip would need to sort out the best logistical surroundings for the pair to meet. The interests of peace and science demanded it.
….
Alone in Alana's comfortable decked out interior, Bee had been feeling sick – and it wasn't because of the movements. For not only had he not dared tell Seaspray who else was with Mirage (the mech was such a staunch Autobot, even if he did canoodle with mer-folk) a wealth of doubts now stormed through his processor.
What if Teletraan was wrong? Spike was right – the computer had been hacked a few times – Ninja robots, Torque, not to mention that Grimseek. What if instead of embracing him, Rumble attacked him. What if he took to him with his piledrivers?
Worse still, what if this 'first' wasn't even Rumble?
Mirage had just said 'a Decepticon.' Bumblebee hadn't spoken to him again. Or Spike, or Chip. The dive from the cliff had not been a good one - his com had died when he'd splatted against the water. It was lucky Seaspray had found him.
Bee had despaired. The 'Decepticon' could be anyone! Terrible possibilities had risen, he'd almost seen triple changers and insecticons looming in the gloom outside. Oh why had he been so unkind to his fellow minibot? And why hadn't he given just one of the other Autobots a chance? Any of them.
They'd all be shaking their heads, calling him a fool when they pulled his pulverized corpse off the ocean floor. Such a waste, Gears would say. If only he'd given ME a chance…
Then Alana had started swaying from side to side. The effect had brought Bumblebee to his senses. Yes – what was he thinking? Mirage knew what he was doing. It had to be somebody suitable - this was Mirage for pits sake. Bee should be – excited.
But as they headed now into a strange forest of what looked like shipwrecks, the minibot's innerds turned to jelly again. What if this was a trap? What if Mirage was being held prisoner? The humans were involved for pits sake - his friends. What would Prime say? He'd be sure to tell Bumblebee they should have been taken right back - and that anyway, this was all his fault...
/Relax,/ Alana was saying, her voice soothing. Bumblebee thought fleetingly that he could see what Seaspray saw in her, and that the others oughtn't to have made fun of her or the Well of Transformation. /We're here – these are the coordinates … now where in the world are they…ah, what's that…?/
Hardly daring to look, Bumblebee peered out. He saw Seaspray sweep ahead, between a tangle of giant ocean junk. Large sea creatures coasted here and there. /Alana – down there…/the other's voice came through.
They were over some kind of deep pit. Bumblebee looked – and froze. Just for an instant, he'd seen a mech – and it was definitely Mirage. Beside him had been a second mech. And even though it was really hard to see, and probably visual ID in these circumstances was riciculous, he'd known exactly who it was. Yes, it really was - oh by Primus, it really was...
Bumblebee's sensors nearly shorted out. "Oh Sigma …" he wailed. "It IS Rumble. What if he doesn't even like me?"
TBC