Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Transformers.

Chapter Three:

Maeve was late. And she knew it. SWAT training was supposed to start exactly thirteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds ago, and she was currently sitting in the asphalt median of the two-lane highway, waiting for a chance to turn into the law enforcement training center's drive.

For some reason, which she didn't quite care about what that particular reason was, there had been an extraordinary amount of traffic. She waited as each car passed her, the end of the line of cars seemingly not in sight. While she knew she could hit the lights and sirens and force her way across, it wasn't something she wanted to explain if any of the superior officers just so happened to be at the training center.

When she had passed the SWAT tests, and subsequently became a squad team leader, each practice inevitably attracted more and more officers and supervisors than she really cared about, though it had eased in the past few months, especially after she had been injured. She had been the first female officer of the city department to ever pass the SWAT tests, and had thus become somewhat of a "circus act", as one of her teammates had continuously teased.

When she had been assigned squad team leader, the entire police force, except for those she knew personally, had been shocked but then most grew to accept it. While it had irritated her that so many of her fellow officers had been amazed at how she had progressed, it was still understandable. In Tranquility Police Department, it was a known fact that female officers just didn't progress as far as she had. Maeve had broken all the expectations that this department had of its female officers.

She knew that she had extra leeway for being late because of her position, but still being even the tiniest bit late irritated her. Oh, the joys of being a perfectionist… one of her best, and worst, qualities, she knew.

She was glad the day had gone well, though. She hadn't had too many calls and it had been quite a bit boring. Traffic duty was generally entertaining, and she had admittedly giggled quite a bit at the gawks and stares coming her way.

It wasn't every day you saw a Saleen "Mustang" police cruiser. But still, today had just been… boring. There really was no other way to put it. There weren't too many calls and no outrageous traffic "war stories" to pass on to impressionable rookies.

Maeve smiled. She wished she had had some stories to tell, but there just weren't any. Well, except for the babbling old drunk guy on Fifth and Wheeling, but he had been dealt with so many times he was now "normal".

Yup, pretty much a boring day.

Finally, she had been able to call dispatch and beg off patrol for SWAT training. Now she sat waiting for traffic to clear, and hoping that Lieutenant Jack Murphy, the SWAT unit commander and one of the few true friends Maeve had in Tranquility, wouldn't berate her too much for her lateness.

She unconsciously rubbed the leather steering wheel, perhaps to give herself some comfort or to give some comfort to the running harder than normal engine. The cruiser shuddered beneath her, seeming to sink on the struts as the entire frame vibrated slightly. Maeve sat up straighter, the sinking motion and subsequent vibrations catching her attention. That wasn't normal, and at first she worried that the Saleen wasn't as pristine as her superiors had opined.

She pushed the shifter into the neutral position and pulled the emergency brake, and just sat there listening to the engine. If something was wrong, she needed to know.

And at that moment, the radio turned on at high volume.

"We'll fight our battles, we'll wage our wars, settle the scores with honor and blood, we'll wear our scars like medals of hope, like medals of hope, like medals of hope, like a whisper to the dusk, an oath against the shadows, denying the dark, FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT till the break of dawn!" blaring out of the police cruiser's speakers completely shattered her concentration.

Maeve shrieked loudly, and twisted the volume dial down as her heart thudded loudly in her chest.

And then she stared in horror at the radio as the song continued to play at full volume.

Barricade resisted the urge to chuckle as he watched the femme's facial expressions cycle from outraged to terrified. He admitted to himself that playing with this human could be rather fun, at least judging by this reaction.

"What the hell?" Maeve was a little freaked out. Sure, the volume dial could be broken, but every interceptor patrol car she had ever driven had its AM/FM radio disabled. And yet… this one played a song, that wasn't even a radio hit for that matter, at full blast, and the volume dial absolutely refused to work. Yeah, Maeve was freaked out. Her hand was frozen, reaching towards the dial, while the other gripped the steering wheel tightly.

The radio shut off abruptly.

"Um. Right." Maeve muttered uncertainly, and slowly let her hand drop to her side. Maybe this car wasn't as great as she had originally thought. She looked up and saw an opportunity to turn approaching. Forgetting the strangeness of the radio turning on by itself, she quickly shoved the shifter into gear, dropped the emergency brake and as soon as the oncoming car passed, pressed in the clutch and gunned the Saleen as fast it could go.

The tires squealed and it seemed to her that the Saleen positively jumped at the opportunity to drive fast as she gunned the car up the road to the training center, shifting into each gear hard.

She admitted to herself that she wanted to see this car go faster, to push the limits; to fully be able to drive it, slamming each gear into place as the RPMs revved like a cat's purr, the speedometer going ever so faster. Patrol cars were rarely stick shift, but this one was and Maeve fully intended to really put it to the test as soon as she could. Like, right after training practice type of soon.

She didn't realize the squeal of pure glee that escaped her as she pushed the Saleen faster than it should have gone on the dark winding drive to the training center. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Barricade didn't miss the squeal, and admitted to himself that besides his mission, this woman wasn't that bad. She was certainly better than the cretins he had had to deal with before… her sigh of happiness, the way she had gripped his steering wheel, the way she had rubbed him and the look of pure bliss on her face as she drove was enough for him.

While it had admittedly irritated him before, it was somehow just not that bad now... even strangely appealing in a way.

He had already abandoned everything he had ever known… why not just throw himself into oblivion, connecting with whatever this femme dealt with? He could handle it – he knew he could.

Besides, he had little left that was meaningful on this world, or anywhere else for that matter. He had deserted his spark-twin, had lost Frenzy to that evil human organization, had abandoned the current Decepticon ranks, and had been alone for so long; he was a deserter, one without hardly any useful, or meaningful links to others, whether organic or Cybertronian.

This woman gave him another useful and meaningful link he could have, and admittedly exploit; even if he hated her species, hated her little mudball of her planet, and loathed pretty much everything about being stuck there. This was something he could use, something he could have, something he could claim for his own. His. Only his.

And as much as he hated to admit it, that little sigh had snagged an edge of his spark, pulling at it in a way he had never felt before.

Oh yes, he was going soft. But this femme was something he had never encountered before amongst humans. She was different from the other irritating organics. Different in ways he already knew, and different in ways he had yet to decipher. The snag on his spark was one such different way which he had to decipher.

And he was determined to see his mission through… and to follow the course his spark was plotting. He had disagreed with Starscream, and had been cast forth from the Decepticon ranks because of that objection. He had already been planning to defect before that incident, as Starscream was an inept moron who Barricade absolutely refused to follow after Megatron's death. Starscream's decision to alienate him hadn't had as much of an impact on Barricade's pride as the insane Decepticon "leader" had hoped.

After being a rogue, and deliberately ignoring Starscream and the other Decepticons, Barricade had pointedly not come out of hiding when Megatron had been resurrected. He was positive that the Decepticon leader would not take kindly to his defection, and Barricade was certain that Megatron would have ordered his spark brutally ripped out after being tortured for megacycles in front of the troops. After Megatron's asinine (and in Barricade's opinion, insane) decision to practically worship The Fallen and the Decepticons' subsequent humiliating defeat in Egypt, Barricade knew he was entirely on his own.

To be honest, that didn't bother him much at all. Not having to obey certain asinine orders that were sure to be suicidal was certainly a rather nice perk of his defection. At this point he was a neutral, at least by his actions, and he knew it… but he liked his unique Decepticon symbol too much to change it.

He was still a Decepticon by nature and at heart, he knew; he just refused to be a part of the current ranks. Megatron was a few points shy of a full zettabyte and had been for years; and Starscream was… well, Starscream, no description needed. Even so, Barricade made it a point to mask himself considerably, and so far, no Decepticons or Autobots had been able to discern his specific location as far as he was aware of, let alone his very survival.

Nearly four human years had passed since his defection, and he fully planned on many more years of staying under the radar and surviving. Even if it was on this pathetic excuse for a planet.

Over the past few years, Barricade had kept tabs on Maeve, watching over her as best he could, ensuring, or at least trying to ensure, that Starscream never had an opportunity to strike at her again. She was his mission, and Starscream would never usurp that no matter what, Barricade had vowed to himself then. He had been present when the psychopathic Dead End had gone after Maeve six months ago. Starscream had been clear in his desperation when he chose that particular 'Con to catch the human.

Barricade knew he hadn't done enough to protect her before or during that incident, but the fleshling femme had surprisingly done well enough on her own. The incident with Dead End was as close as Starscream had come to getting her.

Barricade winced internally at the graphic and violent memory vid that had activated unintentionally; she had come closer to death than she would ever realize. Never again would that slaggin' son of a glitch Starscream have the chance at her again, Barricade had vowed when he had found her broken body. He would keep that vow especially now, he promised himself.

He knew his spark had recognized something the moment he had set optics upon her in Mission City. He had followed her along the dirty and destroyed city streets; initially curious as to why his spark was responding so strangely to her nasty fleshiness. He had watched in the shadows of a trashed deserted alley as she was injured when Megatron was offlined, and then he continued to pursue her as she picked up a seemingly harmless piece of stone.

He didn't know then, and he didn't know now why he had followed her so in those first few glimpses of her; only that his spark had been drawn to the fleshling the first and subsequent times he had seen her. He knew now his mission, but then... he had no idea. His spark had been annoyingly vague then about her, but now... now, his spark was reacting in ways that he had never known, did not recognize, and that utterly terrified him.

He was a Decepticon still, regardless of his present neutral actions, for Primus' sake! A simple sigh of happiness from the squishy shouldn't have had him so… happy! Disgusting!

Happiness was not an emotion Barricade was used to, and as such he was uncomfortable. The feelings this human woman inspired in him flat out terrified him. He was not an emotional mech by nature, and he had done evil things that he had been proud of at the time… but was now coming to regret. He inwardly growled, knowing it was his time with the humans, and one aggravating mech, that was changing him. While that predictably made him rather angry and disgusted, as he couldn't believe the little fleshlings' emotions and feelings could ever have rubbed off on him, he couldn't ignore the fact that once forgotten and suppressed ethics and a sense of duty were returning to him.

Barricade was in short, confused and scared. And… admittedly a little joyful, as he could not deny the feelings this woman inspired in him as she drove way too fast for most humans in the dark of the night towards the training center.

Still, this woman was more important than any Cybertronian on either side realized and he knew that it was his duty to protect her, regardless of his internal conflict and those strange spark feelings that terrified him.

What he wouldn't give to reveal himself to her….

And to take her for his own. If only she wasn't a squishy… Barricade's jovial mood evaporated as he pondered that thought, and utter disgust radiated in his processor.

Author's Notes:

I do not own Atreyu's "Honor" lyrics.