Disclaimer: Still don't own Transformers. Wish I did, but alas, I'm not that special.

Chapter Two:

Alarm system deactivated. Weapons systems deactivated. Essential energon recharge complete. Human Law Enforcement Officer Maeve McWilliams recognized. Security overrides accepted. Initiating core and system synchronization.

The pinging alarm in his central processor was Barricade's first clue that something wasn't quite right. His central processor swirled from the long recharge as his systems struggled to come online at a fast pace. He knew he'd have to do some defragmenting soon, if his systems were taking that long.

How long had he been out? He was confused; utterly and completely confused by how much time had passed since the last time he had been online. When the loud pinging abruptly stopped, and the cool voice of his internal systems had interrupted his thoughts, Barricade knew something was up. He cleared his confusing thoughts and initiated a quick all-systems check and concluded that nothing was wrong.

He was still in his Saleen alt mode, though he couldn't remember where he was.

The hot sun on this wretched planet baked the metal of his alt form, the heat attacking his tactile sensors with irritating aggressiveness as he struggled to recognize the urban landscape surrounding him. He couldn't really remember why he was here either, or why he was letting the pathetic femme fleshling enter his alt mode.

She was average in height and weight for female humans, perhaps 5'4 and 130 lbs, give or take; and her dark auburn hair was tied up in a messy bun. Her dark hazel eyes stared in wonder as she inspected the interior of his Saleen alt mode, her pale fleshy fingers almost caressing in nature as they pressed softly against the cool leather of his steering wheel.

At least his temperature controls were working.

The woman had a small crescent shaped scar on her left cheekbone, the white scar tissue just barely noticeable against her already fair skin and slight freckles. He guessed her age at twenty-eight, perhaps a little younger, though he couldn't really be sure at this point. Guessing age in these organics always irritated him; it was always damn near impossible for him to guess correctly with the fleshies almost fanatical obsession with looking like their older sparklings.

She was supposedly familiar, as his internal systems had recognized the woman, but he so far could not as his memory banks remained foggy. What in Primus' pit had happened? His cores finally began to sync, long after his internals had started the process, as Barricade reluctantly fully awakened from recharge.

Oh yes, a defrag and a thorough systems scan was in order, if it was taking this long. Barricade wished he was still with his team from Cybertron; at least then he would have had proper medical care, instead of the thousands of years he had had to patch himself up haphazardly.

After a moment, he finally remembered. He was in Tranquility again, having left the last police department three states over after scaring the hell out of one of that department's new recruits when the man had become drunk on his shift and tried to drive Barricade's alt mode.

In a move that shocked Barricade now that he thought about it, he had transformed and screamed at the man about irresponsibility and a lack of sense, and that the man was a disgrace to the police force and that he was to march straight into the small town's HQ and resign immediately, or risk Barricade's infinite wrath.

The man, so drunk he could barely walk, had done precisely that and then started rambling to his baffled superiors about how his patrol car was a massive screaming bastard of a robot from outer space with sharp metallic claws… and that had been Barricade's cue to leave that department behind, like he had so many others.

Four years. Four horrendous years of skipping from police department to police department, while deliberately putting off his mission. The last agency had been the last straw, and Barricade had glared at the drunkard with disgust and hatred before he had sped out of the cold mountain town.

Barricade wondered if he was going soft. It wasn't too long ago that he would have killed the man for simply being an annoyance. Now it seemed like he was being afflicted with a virus… of principles? Blasphemy for a Decepticon!

Barricade's cores froze as now he recognized the human law enforcement officer sitting nonchalantly on his driver's seat, her hands caressing the dark steering wheel of his alt mode. His central processor rapidly flashed warning signs from his spark as he hurriedly tried to cool down his systems. Within seconds, his systems read out normal as he assessed the female law enforcement officer sitting in his driver's seat.

'Finally.' He sighed to himself, relaxing. He wanted to chuckle at the twist of fate; of how he hadn't even had to hack the Tranquility PD mainframe and assign her to him; the human superiors of the department already had. He initiated a brief scan, making sure she was not harmed.

He hesitated when the scan reflected mental trauma, but relaxed when it told him at almost the same moment that her physical inputs and outputs were normal for her age, height and weight. She had some interesting physical scars besides the crescent shaped one, and some strange metal fragments in a few places, but otherwise she was healthy.

He wasn't a medic, just had a step above the basic scans that all Cybertronians had for rescue purposes. He knew without a doubt that the mental trauma would have to be dealt with at some point in time, but right now her physical health was most important.

And he knew precisely where a majority of that mental and physical trauma had come from. Anger coursed through his alt mode as he struggled to push those memory vids away to the back of his processor.

He had to be sure that she would survive.

I must be going soft, worried about a fleshling. What is wrong with me? Barricade pushed that thought out of the way and just simply watched her. He had a mission, and fulfilling that mission was his main priority. He had already waited far too long. Time was of the essence. He hoped he wasn't already too late.

Maeve just simply sat in the driver's seat for a moment, and rubbed her hands over the black leather steering wheel, then the stick shift, a small excited smile dancing on her lips as she waited for Dispatch to get back to her. Barricade forced himself not to move, although it was difficult.

Damnable fleshy, stop touching me like that! Barricade thought, with a touch of crankiness. She may have been important to his mission, but dammit, that was very nearly crossing the line. He resisted shivering in disgust. He couldn't give himself away to her - yet.

Hmph. Barricade's mood had certainly soured since he had awoken. He tried to put the grumpiness aside as he also waited for Dispatch's response.

"Ah, 1-643, we have no calls at this time, other units are dealing with them, but feel free to do a routine patrol of District 5."

"Will do, Dispatch. 1-643 out." Maybe today would be an easy day. Maeve could only hope, right?

Barricade, on the other hand, was gleefully anticipating some difficult calls, just to see how she would respond.

Author's Notes:

Yeah, I know, VERY short chapter. Next one will be longer, promise.