Author's Notes: Good news, everyone! I'm not dead yet! Also, I've got a new chapter of this fic up! Yay! I'm much happier with this chapter than I was with the last. The flow seemed to be off in the last chapter, but I guess everyone has off days sometimes. Also, I want to thank you guys for your support. This fic got some lovely reviews and a lot of views considering it was just the first chapter. Now we can kick this fic off properly! Please review, favorite, and follow to see more of "Can't Look Back". :)

Chapter 2

Noise In The Night

The Present

When the Autobots arrived back at base Ratchet immediately rushed their patient to the medbay and started connecting an energon drip into her arm. Just being in stasis had caused her to lose a lot of fuel, and now that she was away from the life support system of the Decepticon transport Ratchet didn't have a lot of time to get her stabilized.

The 'Bot guardians deposited the kids on the upper level where the video game system and other human comforts were kept. The kids didn't want to play video games though. They wanted to know what was going on with the new 'Bot. Miko was especially curious, because Bulkhead had acted really weird when they found that red and gold femme.

Miko ran into the medbay to see that Bulkhead was already there. He was sitting off to the side and wringing his hands nervously. Miko had never seen him like that, and she wondered if this femme they found was special to Bulkhead in some way.

"Hey, Bulk. Hey, Doc Bot," Miko said casually; trying to cut through the gloom in the atmosphere.

"Miko, I have enough problems with him here," Ratchet grumbled as he pointed a thumb at Bulkhead, "I don't need you in here messing things up, too."

"Aw, come on Ratchet! I haven't even broken anything yet!" Bulkhead protested, but when he went to gesticulate his arm brushed against a monitor; knocking it over and breaking it.

"Bulkhead!" Ratchet screamed, "I needed that!"

"Uh, maybe we should get out of here," Bulkhead told Miko sheepishly as he scooped her up and quietly left the room.

Bulkhead took Miko through the hallway and into the training room so they could give Ratchet plenty of space. He didn't really want to see the other 'Bots in that moment anyway. He was feeling kind of maudlin after seeing Enamel after so many vorns. Miko could tell Bulkhead was sad, but she wasn't sure what to say to make him feel better.

"Hey, Bulk?" Miko called softly from where she stood next to his pede on a mat for combat practice, "She's gonna be okay. Ratchet is the best. He'll fix her up in no time. You'll see."

"Part of me hopes so," Bulkhead replied ruefully, "But another part hopes she doesn't wake up. She'll have to see proof that our world was destroyed. She'll have to see the suffering and the pain. She'll have to see...me."

"Won't she be happy to see you?" Miko asked, "Isn't she your friend?"

"Friend?" Bulkhead scoffed, "Miko, she's my ex. We broke up on pretty bitter terms, and I refused to speak to her after I walked away."

"You walked away from her?" Miko asked skeptically, "Did she cheat on you?"

"Maybe," Bulkhead shrugged, "I always kind of suspected it. Enamel was very hard to please. When we were young we thought as long as we had love and each other we could overcome anything. Turns out we couldn't overcome ourselves… or each other for that matter. I don't know how I feel about her being here. I hope she lives, but I'm also worried about what kind of life it will be. Will she be the same person after she wakes up? How will she feel about my first being a Wrecker and then a member of Team Prime? Was she an Autobot or a Decepticon?"

"Well, which side do you think she would pick?" Miko inquired.

"Hard to say," Bulkhead shrugged again, "I think she would lean toward Autobot, but I don't really know. Enamel kept a lot of her feelings inside, and she hated discussing politics. She said it reminded her of her family."

"You never did tell me," Miko reminded him, "You said your first date with her was lousy, so why did you go on another one?"

"It actually started before the first date ended," Bulkhead told her, "It was when I was driving her home…"

The Past

To say the evening had been a disaster would be an understatement. Bulkhead's date was overbearing, emotional, and every now and then confrontational. Brawn and Switchboard had gone to the bar after a few breems had passed, and 10 breems later Bulkhead realized they had left the restaurant altogether! That left him alone with Enamel, and trying to make polite conversation with an elite femme was much harder than the laborer had thought possible.

They both seemed to walk on eggshells in each other's presence. Enamel was the type that would insult Bulkhead one moment, and then cry if he yelled at her for saying something hurtful. After a while she seemed to get her emotions in check, but it was hard for Bulkhead to think of safe topics of conversation. They mostly talked about the energon they were served and the different colors in the glass surrounding the lamps. Needless to say, it was stressful and boring.

When it finally came time to leave Bulkhead was relieved. He was sure his nightmare was almost over as he walked to the exit with Enamel following behind him.

"Well, uh…" Bulkhead couldn't say he had a nice time, and he was at a loss of what to say that wouldn't sound insulting, "...Have a good evening, Enamel."

"My goodness, it's so late," Enamel said as she eyed the black sky worriedly, "I've never stayed out this late before."

"Yeah well, time flies when you're having fun," Bulkhead said quickly as he made for the door, but stopped with what she said next.

"I've heard femmes of my stature are frequently robbed and murdered when they drive alone at night," Enamel said ominously; frozen in place as she stared outside.

"Oh, come on! You're afraid of the dark?" Bulkhead scoffed, unable to pretend this wasn't ridiculous to him, "You'll be fine. Just go home."

"I live 20 kliks away in Silicon Hills," Enamel told him, "Bulkhead, I know this is a lot to ask considering the less-than-stellar first impression I've given you, but could you please escort me home? I'll owe you a favor in return."

Bulkhead sighed wearily. He didn't want to hold this femme's hand and drive her across Tyger Pax to some gated tower community. He just wanted to go home and relax by watching the broadcasts before recharging. Still, despite what everyone assumed about him due to his status he was, at spark, a gentlemech. He couldn't just abandon a helpless femme in her time of need...even if she was a pain in the aft.

"You don't owe me anything, Enamel," Bulkhead finally relented, "Let's go."

"Thank you, Bulkhead," Enamel replied gratefully.

Bulkhead just shook his helm at his own softsparked idiocy as he led the way to the road ahead. Enamel transformed, and Bulkhead couldn't help the whistle that escaped his lip components when he saw that stunning red and gold racer. She was a shiny convertible with gold trim, gold rims, and a little diamond hood ornament that looked like a bird of prey.

"Are you coming, Bulkhead?" Enamel asked; snapping Bulkhead out of his dazed stupor.

"Sorry," Bulkhead muttered awkwardly, "I'll say this much Enamel, you are very easy on the optics."

He was worried his comment might be rebuffed by the snobby femme, but to his surprise she laughed lightly and revved her engine for him to follow her. Her laugh was a lovely sound, and when she drove her gold accents shimmered in the street lights. Bulkhead didn't know how he could be physically attracted to someone he could barely stand, but then again he also wasn't sure how he could resist a femme that looked like a jewel-encrusted angel.

They drove for a few minutes in silence. Bulkhead wondered how long it would take for them to get to her house. The stars in the sky were barely visible, and the buildings sparkled against the skyline from the back road the pair was on. It was a beautiful night, and it made the drive very peaceful.

"Bulkhead?" Enamel spoke up after a few minutes.

"What?" Bulkhead replied; coming out of his daze.

"I want to apologize for the things I said earlier," Enamel said with a formal tone that failed to hide her contrition, "I should have known you weren't a thief or a masher. If you were then Switchboard would have never set us up together. She is one of my best friends, and I should have trusted her judgment."

"Your best friend is a common femme?" Bulkhead asked; unable to hide the faint accusation in his voice.

"I said one of my best friends. I have several," Enamel corrected, "The truth is I've never been this close to a laborer before tonight. I didn't know what to expect, and I was scared. My father always told me low caste mechs only see tower femmes as a source of easy money or a target for sexual assault."

"Yeah well, my folks always said never trust an elite," Bulkhead said with a low edge to his voice, "They said an elite will use you, abuse you, and then leave you for scrap. If you're lucky. So far I haven't seen anything to disprove that belief."

"I would never purposefully hurt someone," Enamel assured him, "I understand why your parents said such things though. They were only trying to protect you. They must be good people."

"Yeah...They were," Bulkhead replied mournfully.

"Oh...I'm sorry," Enamel replied; understanding the implication, "How did they die?"

"My sire died when an unfinished bridge collapsed while he was under it securing the beams," Bulkhead explained, "My carrier died shortly afterward. I'm pretty sure she died of a broken spark. She and my sire were very close."

"I wish my sire and carrier were close," Enamel said ruefully, "They were bonded because their parents arranged it when they were younger. My carrier was the heiress to a vast fortune. My grandsire had made his living buying up asteroids and mining them for precious ores. My father was the son of a senator, and then became an advisor to the council-mech of Helex."

"Wait, your father is Fireclap?" Bulkhead asked incredulously, "Isn't he the mech that tampered with evidence that could've implicated Zeta for murder?"

"Yes," Enamel replied simply, "And if you think that's the worse thing he's ever done then you're very naive. My father might not be a member of the council yet, but he is a very powerful mech. He's the kind of mech you don't say no to. Trust me, I know."

Bulkhead didn't like the way Enamel said those last words. It sounded as if she had some personal experience with how Fireclap operated. He wanted to ask her, but he knew they didn't know each other very well. He feared he would just be intruding if he questioned her, so he decided to try to change the subject, but before he could, Enamel spoke.

"Sometimes I envy lower caste mechs and femmes," Enamel suddenly said.

"You envy us?" Bulkhead asked rhetorically, "That's a laugh! You have everything you could ever want while my people starve! What could you possibly envy us for?"

"Freedom," Enamel replied matter-of-factly, "I know in many ways you are not free, but you are at least free enough to say you deserve better. I'm not. From the time I was a sparkling my entire life was decided for me. My career, my home, and the mech I will marry have already been chosen for me, and there is nothing I can do about it. Not only that, but I must maintain a perfect polish. I must speak politely and demurely. I must be escorted by a bodyguard when I go to work. The truth is we are both practically slaves, Bulkhead. It's just that my bondage is more comfortable. If you want to know the truth, I snuck out of the house to go out with you tonight. My family thinks I'm in recharge right now."

"Seriously?" Bulkhead asked; slightly impressed, "Why would you risk all that just to go out with a laborer?"

"I didn't know you were a laborer," Enamel replied honestly, "I only knew you weren't Alabaster, and that was good enough for me. I know our evening wasn't that great, but I want to thank you anyway for trying. I know you tried."

Bulkhead grunted his acknowledgement but didn't say anything. What could he say? He had just gone out with a femme that was only looking for a one orn stand, and they didn't even have that together. This date had been a complete waste of time, but on some level he felt like he understood her better now. He supposed that would have to be enough.

"Hey Bulkhead," Enamel called out to him, "Do you like music?"

"Uh, I don't think we have the same taste in music," Bulkhead replied dismissively, "I don't like that classical junk."

"Neither do I," Enamel replied; a sly edge to her voice, "Personally I prefer metallic screech music. You ever heard of a band called Shaved Colored Pencils?"

"Are you kidding? I love screech music!" Bulkhead exclaimed enthusiastically, "Do you have the song Saw My Face In Half?"

"You bet," Enamel purred, "Pull over. I'll play it for us."

"You have a radio installed? Cool. I could never afford that upgrade," Bulkhead told her as they pulled over to a lookout point.

Bulkhead transformed into root mode, and Enamel did the same. She adjusted some buttons and dials on the inside of her chassis, and then the loudest most assaulting piece of screeching Cybertronian music blared from her radio.

Bulkhead screamed along with the instrumental parts of the song and pretended he was playing drums. Enamel smiled and looked at Bulkhead with a look that could best be described as amorous. She wasn't used to seeing him excited and playful, but now that she had seen it she could see the appeal. Bulkhead had so much energy. Not like her stuffy fiancée.

When Bulkhead stopped long enough to look at Enamel, he saw the dreamy look she was giving him and felt himself overheat. He looked away, embarrassed, but she pulled his servo to get him to look at her.

"Bulkhead...May I see you again?" Enamel asked as she bent her helm down shyly, "You may pick where we go next time. I know you weren't comfortable in that restaurant."

"Um...sure, I guess," Bulkhead replied; not sure what he was supposed to do now, "Maybe we could go to a concert or something."

"That sounds nice," Enamel said as she leaned into Bulkhead's frame.

Bulkhead wasn't sure how this happened. One breem they could barely start up a conversation, and the next breem he was embracing her in the twin moonlight and rocking out with her to screech music. Whatever the reason however, Bulkhead could feel himself gradually falling for her.