Jazz personally delivered Bumblebee back to base.

By force.

Which meant that, by the time they rolled up to the Autobot headquarters, Bumblebee was beeping aggressively in protest, wriggling in Jazz's grip like an angry toddler.

"Don't even start with me," Jazz growled, dragging him toward the medbay. "I swear to Primus, Bee—if you sneak out one more time, I'm locking you in a garage and throwing away the key."

Bumblebee let out a pathetic little beep.

Jazz glared. "Don't act sad! You had this comin'!"

Ratchet, who had been waiting at the entrance with his arms crossed, looked furious.

"I have had it with you," Ratchet snapped, grabbing Bumblebee and dragging him into the medbay. "Sneaking out like a glitched protoform—do you have a death wish?!"

Bumblebee beeped sadly.

Ratchet ignored him.

Jazz sighed and turned—

Only to see Optimus standing there, looking like he had aged a thousand years overnight.

"Jazz," Optimus said, voice so tired. "Would you like to explain why Bumblebee was once again missing?"

Jazz crossed his arms. "Oh, I dunno, Prime—maybe ask the little glitch himself?"

Optimus exhaled slowly, his optics dimming. "I assume this has something to do with Harry."

Jazz bristled. "So what if it does?"

Optimus sighed again. "Jazz. You must understand how this looks."

"Oh, I understand, all right," Jazz muttered. "It looks like all y'all keep gettin' way too attached to my human—"

"Your human?*" Optimus repeated.

Jazz froze.

Optimus stared at him.

Jazz refused to answer.

Optimus just sighed again and walked away.

Jazz, standing there fuming, muttered, "I hate everything."

Meanwhile—

Barricade had returned to Decepticon base.

Megatron was waiting for him.

Barricade transformed, standing tall as he gave his report. "The wizard is still at the auto shop. The Autobots are extremely territorial about him."

Megatron smirked. "Yes. I gathered that."

Then, glancing toward the corner of the room—where a very battered, still-smoking Starscream was laying flat on the floor, optics offline—Megatron chuckled. "And I assume he's still responsible for that?"

Barricade grinned. "Oh, absolutely."

Megatron sighed contently, folding his arms behind his back. "I do enjoy this human."

Starscream twitch-flopped like a dying fish.

Megatron didn't even look at him. "Barricade, keep watch on him. And should he ever tire of the Autobots—" His optics gleamed. "Bring him to me."

Barricade smirked. "Understood."

Back at Autobot base, Optimus had called a meeting.

Jazz sat there with his arms crossed, looking entirely unrepentant.

Ratchet looked murderous.

Ironhide was still confused.

Bumblebee was grounded.

And Optimus?

Optimus just stared at them all, took a deep, deep vent—

And muttered, "I am so fraggin' tired."*