Moonracer tugged at the shadows under her eyes. It was like she had a stunning pair of shiners. Not date material. She applied another layer of concealer. If Astoria or Nancy said something, then she'd know it wasn't working and could try something new from there. Arcee didn't exactly seem like a makeup person, so she was probably less perceptive to inch thick coats of foundation than either of the bubbly secretaries.

Moonracer sighed. Blurr was probably right, and she could show up to her date in sweats and a stained tee-shirt and Arcee wouldn't care, but Moonracer would. Why get bother getting dressed up if you weren't getting dressed up for yourself?

She pushed her hair (newly curled) back over her shoulders and eyed herself critically. Eh, good enough.

Moonracer looked at her nails and frowned. Was she getting ahead of herself by trimming them? She pulled a face in the mirror and thought about Arcee. Then she thought about Arcee naked.

She cut her nails. She filed down the raw edges, too, which really was getting ahead of herself.

"Okay, Blurr!" She picked up her purse and her heels. "I'm off! I'll be back around whenever me and Arcee finish our date. Don't wait for me!"

She stuffed her heels in her purse and slid on a pair of flip flops, the darted out to her car. It was a rare chilly day, and she was wearing shorts. Luckily, her precious wonderful car had heated seats. Pft. And Blurr said she wouldn't need them in Nevada. Moonracer cranked her car and pulled out.

Today was going to be wonderful and normal. No weird conspiracies, no possible in-fighting, no insomnia and getting up at three am because of stress headaches. It was going to be great.

There was a car parked in her spot. An Aston Martin. Red.

"Oh, dammit!"

Moonracer ended up having to park next to Shockwave's car, an ugly old sedan from the mid-nineties. She had brought it up once, only to receive an owlish glance in return. Apparently it was illogical to buy a new car when his old one was functioning perfectly. The logical choice, maybe, but not the aesthetic one.

"Oooh, I hope a minivan clips you," she said to it, switching from flip flops to heels, "a red one, to mess up your ugly beige paint."

She stomped over to the elevator, pulling her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. The desert was not supposed to be this cold! It took the three flights down to the main floor for her to shake off her chill and her sour mood.

"Hi, Moonracer!" Astoria called. "That cute guy is here again!"

"Yeah, I saw his car. Really nice."

"Forget his car, did you see his face? I didn't know cheekbones could look that good! You tell her, Astrotrain." Astoria elbowed the bleary-eyed security guard beside her. He was awake, which at six in the morning was a feat.

"Uh, yeah. He had bones. C'mon through." Astrotrain waved her past the metal detector. "Keep your head down up there, yeah? Boss has Starscream in today."

"Thanks for the heads up." Moonracer hit the button for the executive floor and frowned. There went her wish for a peaceful day. Maybe she'd corner Knock Out and drill him about his face, see if she was really conjuring up a punch or not. Or she could not do that and hide out with Nancy all day, then go on her date. Yeah, that sounded like a plan.

"Coffee call!" Nancy said, wagging a pen back and forth. "I swear they drink more caffeine than Robert De Niro in Heat. How about you buy them a cup?"

"I think I'll just make it, thanks."

Moonracer moved through her coffee routine with a sinking pit of dread in her stomach. Fingers crossed she was imagining things. She rushed to the door as quickly as she could and knocked loudly. The less time she spent here the less chance she'd have of hearing something incriminating.

"Coffee!" She chirped brightly when the door opened. Shockwave stared down at her. Starscream was at his side of the table, messy as usual, and Knock Out was on the far side. He looked like Moonracer did—too much concealer. Oh boy. Soundwave was nowhere to be seen, which was good because he was super creepy.

"Thank you." Shockwave intoned.

"No problem, boss!" Moonracer tossed off a cheery little salute and pulled the door shut. Then she squatted in the hall and ran her fingers back through her hair. This was too stressful! Was this what priests felt like after confessionals?

"Not going to drink your coffee, Knock Out?" Starscream jibed. Moonracer stood up. Time for her to leave.

"Too much caffeine is bad for the complexion, Starscream, didn't you know?" Knock Out drawled.

"Hn. Very funny. You will be there tonight, yes? I'm told we need a doctor for these sorts of things. I can't get one of my junkies to forge your signature."

"It's elaborate for a reason."

"You'll be there." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, Starscream."

Moonracer pulled away from the door. That wasn't suspicious at all. Gosh, when had her life become so dramatic?

She turned around and yelped.

Soundwave looked down at her, his pale, pale eyes staring at her. He looked past her at the door.

"Oh, I was just getting coffee. There's some for you… inside. Right."

She slipped around him and walked towards the secretary's desk, heart racing. Soundwave watched her go. He didn't try to stop her, so maybe he hadn't been standing behind her, listening to her listen in, for long. Hopefully.

Moonracer sat back down and started sorting papers. Nancy was adsorbed with her phone, streaming new and TV.

Okay. Think.

They were meeting somewhere, tonight, which was super suspicious when one took into consideration that Starscream needed a doctor for whatever he was going to do. But hell, there were about a million things for which you needed a doctor that weren't illegal. Maybe his dog was giving birth. Maybe he was getting his stitches checked and didn't want to go to the hospital. Maybe they were pulling the plug on Megatron, which was still suspicious and weird but at least it was understandable.

Nothing came up when she searched Starscream; in fact, Google was certain his name was spelled incorrectly and searched 'star's cream' for her. She knew he was some sort of businessman, or at least that he met regularly with Shockwave for a time, then stopped doing that, then started meeting again. And that wasn't uncommon at all, business partners came and went all the time. And it wasn't too weird that he didn't return any results in a search engine. Her parents didn't, and they had the money to prove they worked in trading.

Moonracer put her face in her hands. Six hours. She just had to get through six hours and then she could leave.

She lasted about four hours before she snuck back down to Shockwave's meeting room. Shockwave and his group were long since gone, but Moonracer wasn't here to get them coffee this time.

She let the door close behind her and rested her back against it.

"This is crazy," she repeated, muttering to herself as she started scouring the room for paper.

Starscream was messy, so it stood to reason that he might have dropped something. Then, Moonracer could find it and reassure herself she was freaking out over a bill. She glanced at the table, which was covered in napkins and for some reason, origami birds. Moonracer didn't want to know which of them had done that. She didn't bother cleaning up the napkins—it wasn't her job, and besides, it would make it obvious she was snooping if the room was suddenly spotless.

"Okay, paper trails. C'mon, TV, don't fail me now."

There wasn't anything suspicious under the napkins, and she didn't trust that she could refold the birds if she unfolded them to read what was on the paper. She bent over and checked under the table, concious of the door. If Soundwave thought she was suspicious for listening in on Shockwave's meeting earlier, it would stand to reason that he would try and catch her at it again. Her stomach twisted.

Moonracer slumped into one of the comfy, overstuffed chairs with a sigh. What was she doing?

She glanced down. There was a scrap of paper from one of those cheap company branded notepads caught under the foot of the table. Moonracer picked it up before she could regret noticing it. On it, scrawled in Shockwave's engineer neat block lettering, was an address.

"Four-four-three West Sprint road," Moonracer whispered. She grimaced, then took a picture of it with her phone, before tucking it back under the table leg. Then she left the room, as quietly as she came.

That was downtown, somewhere in the shipping district. Where, if she were being entirely honest, she and Blurr had once considered living, then visited the place and were too sketched out to even get out of Perceptor's car.

"Hey, I'm back!" She said to Nancy, sitting down at desk across from her.

"You were gone? Sorry, I got caught up in the season finale."

"Ha, no biggie, I was just in the restroom. Remember, I told you I was going five minutes ago."

"Okay," Nancy didn't call her on her lie. She had an alibi now. Primus, this was going to end up with someone getting arrested. Hopefully it wasn't her.

The clock struck five. Perfect timing. Moonracer packed up her purse and clocked out, then headed down to the main floor.

"Moonracer!" Astoria clutched her chest. "Oh, you just missed him!"

"My sense of reason?" Moonracer grumbled under her breath.

"Huh?"

"I said: who did I miss?" Moonracer handed Astrotrain her purse and walked through the metal detector.

"That handsome guy! He gave me his number but when I texted him some guy named Bee answered."

"Must have switched up the numbers by accident. Tragic accident." Moonracer couldn't even judge, given how many times she'd given Blurr's number to guys she didn't want to talk to.

"I know. If you see him, could you tell him I have the wrong number?"

Aw. Astoria looked too sad for Moonracer to refuse. "Sure. See you next Monday."

She slunk out to her car. Both Knock Out's and Shockwave's cars were gone. Moonracer held her breath. Okay. This was uproariously stupid. She should have called some police tipline, or hell, she should have let it slip in conversation with Arcee, and then Arcee could play detective in the middle of some stinking warehouse lot filled with illicit businessmen and Shockwave's ugly car. But no, she was planning on sneaking around the warehouse district and snooping for secrets that probably didn't even exist, because she was going crazy paranoid.

Moonracer cranked her engine and let it idle while she searched four-four-three West Sprint road on her phone. It was easily ten miles out of her way, so she couldn't even lie to herself and claim that it was just on the way home and it was no big deal if she drove by and looked for cars she recognized.

"Okay." She said, pulling out of her spot and exiting the garage. "I look around for five minutes and then I leave."

She drove north, past the hospital and back into town. The sun was slowly setting, casting long shadows across the buildings and down into Moonracer's car. It was not the mood she wanted to set for trespassing.

Four-four-three. This was it.

Moonracer stopped her car. It was a decently sized warehouse, set apart from the buildings to either side by about twenty feet. There was a lot in front, but it was scattered with shipping containers and semis. Moonracer pulled into the parking spot closest to the road, so she could leave quickly if she needed to, and got out of her car. She tucked her phone in her pocket and walked across the lot, heels clacking against the asphalt. She could see the bright flash red of Knock Out's car parked alongside the warehouse, and Shockwave's dull, perfectly serviceable black sedan parked next to it. There were a few other cars, too, mostly hatchbacks and pickups. She was in the right place, at least.

Ohhhhh, she felt eyes on her back. She hunched her shoulders and kept walking. The warehouse series of huge rolling doors at the front, with a smaller human sized door near the side. Moonracer walked up to it. It had a sliding peephole, like it had coms straight out of a movie about speakeasies. She saw light coming from the crack under the door, and could hear faint voices if she listened closely.

Okay, this clearly wasn't her way in. She walked around the side of the building, dodging plastic bags and weeds sprouting through the cracks in the pavement. Moonracer rounded the corner, and ended up one foot up a staircase. Bingo. There must have been a second floor office. She took the stairs up. Her steps were overloud in the quiet evening air. She spared a glance at her phone and bit back a sigh. She had definitely been here for more than five minutes.

And she was going to be late for her date. Arcee didn't deserve to get stood up like this.

Moonracer set her jaw. She'd check this door, and then she was leaving. There were no lights on in this room. She tried the handle.

The door creaked open.

"Oh shit," Moonracer whispered. She held her breath. After a minute of crouching in the dark, half inside, half outside, she relaxed. She stood up and turned on her phone light, cupping it with her hand to keep any stray beams of light from alerting a bored security guard to her presence.

The room looked like any other dinky warehouse office: there was a chair, an ugly desk, and a few filing cabinets along the walls. The door leading (presumably) to the staircase and the rest of the warehouse had a window, which Moonracer made note to stay far away from. She pulled the door shut behind her and stepped inside.

"If I were incriminating evidence, where would I hide?"

The file cabinets. Moonracer crept across the room, careful to keep her heels from clacking too loudly.

She tried the first cabinet. Locked. Moonracer's mouth twisted downwards. Okay, so that was out. It was probably a sign that she should just give up and leave (twenty minutes 'til she was late for her date!). Instead of doing the smart thing and leaving, she tried the desk.

"Bingo." The top drawer opened with the slightest touch. Moonracer squinted at it and shone her light at its contents: a pad of sticky notes, some pens, a highlighter, a stapler, and some paperclips. "Not bingo."

"Could you talk any louder, Motormaster?" Came a voice from outside the door. The handle rattled. "Hm. I could have sworn this was unlocked."

"Here, I got a key."

Moonracer glanced across the room. Too far to make it to the door leading outside. She dove under the desk.

The door opened, spilling light into the office, and two people walked in. Moonracer held her breath.

"Alright," Knock Out said. "Sit."

"In what chair?" The other person—probably this Motormaster—scoffed.

"Can't do anything for yourself, can you?" Knock Out groused. A pair of leather loafers stepped into Moonracer's field of view. Knock Out paused, shifted his weight, and shut the desk drawer. Then he dragged the chair from where Moonracer had shoved it in her mad scramble under the desk.

Moonracer exhaled.

"Alright. Sit. Hm, your nose isn't too pretty. I suppose you'll have to give up on your dreams of modeling."

Motormaster snorted. "Why does he always go for the face? I hope his fucking knuckles broke on my forehead."

"Who knows why Starscream does anything?" Knock Out said, then grunted slightly. "Oh, I know: Megatron."

"You think?"

"I think it's obvious he's trying to imitate our dear leader in the only way he can. Namely: physical abuse of his employees. Poor Starscream needs a hug or two. And for Megatron to tell him he's a worthwhile human being."

"Pft. Even your self esteem issues aren't that bad."

"What self esteem issues? I'm perfect and I know it."

"Yeah. Right." Motormaster shifted in the chair with a creak of leather. "Look, Knock Out. Lay off the Megatron stuff. Starscream is too touchy to prod."

"What's he going to do, hm?" Paper tore. "There. All bandaged up."

"Breakdown. You know."

Knock Out sighed deeply. "Alright. Fine."

"Good. C'mon. Let's hear what the new boss has to say."

The two men padded out of the carpeted room and tapped down the staircase. Moonracer dared to peek out from behind the desk. She caught her breath and pulled back.

The door was open!

She waited. No loud footsteps, no shouts of surprise. Maybe she hadn't been noticed?

Moonracer crept to the open door. No one was waiting outside it; there was no one coming back up the stairs. It seemed like she was in the clear. She poked her head around the door and looked at the first floor.

A group of about a dozen people stood in loose congregation. She spotted Knock Out and the skinhead from the race—his nose was battered to all hell, so he must have been Motormaster. Shockwave and Soundwave were standing to one side, conversing quietly. Soundwave's long fingers fiddled with a scrap of paper, folding and unfolding it. The rest of the people looked skinny, and tired, with dirty clothing and dirtier hair.

"Walk!" Starscream slammed open the door and dragged a man through it, his fingers tight on the man's shirtsleeve. It really didn't look like he was doing much dragging, given that he was just so skinny and the other man so much broader than him, but regardless of the specifics, they were both moving in the same direction, and Starscream was leading them.

The crowd parted around him. It seemed to Moonracer that Starscream wasn't very popular with the rest of the group, and not just because she had overheard Knock Out and Motormaster's conversation. There was a real physical space between Starscream and everyone else, and even Shockwave—who Moonracer was convinced had never felt genuine emotion in his life—was frowning. Starscream shoved the man into the center of the group.

"Now, Dreadwing," he said, and his voice was on the nervous side of smooth, all catching and ragged, "care to repeat yourself?"

"What is this about?" Dreadwing asked tiredly. His voice was deep and sonorous, gravely, like he chainsmoked and liked it.

"Don't ignore me!" Starscream snapped. Even from her high vantage point, Moonracer could see the bags under his eyes and the deep lines of stress carved by his frown. "Repeat it!"

Dreadwing's face curled into a sneer and he stood straight-backed. "Where is Megatron?"

"Megatron is not here!" Starscream tugged his hair. "I am in charge here, Dreadwing, and I expect you to obey me!"

"I follow Megatron, and Megatron alone. Not some pretender." He hissed the words, and Starscream's eyes blazed. He reached forwards and slapped Dreadwing. The smack echoed through the tall ceilings. Moonracer bit her lip. This was getting more sketchy than she had imagined. Normal people didn't have clandestine meetings in decrepit warehouses. She pulled out her phone and started recording.

"Pretender!" Starscream spat, then forcibly made himself take a breath. "Now, Dreadwing," he said, voice curdled, "I'm sure we all dearly miss our beloved leader, but times must change. After all, isn't change what mighty Megatron wanted in the first place? You can't honestly stay loyal to him without upholding his ideals, can you?"

"What does coward scum like you know about loyalty?" Dreadwing quickly advance on Starscream, backing him into a pile of shipping crates.

"More than you do, obviously," Starscream muttered, trying to edge around Dreadwing to give himself more space. Louder, he said, "Megatron named me his second for a reason. If you can't respect me, at least respect that."

It looked like it caused him physical sickness to bargain with that.

"He called you his second before you tried to kill him!"

The room silenced. All eyes went to Starscream. He looked desperate, wildly darting eyes and a fixed grin on his face. Then the whispers started. Moonracer couldn't hear, but she had been in enough cliques to imagine: 'I can't believe it.', 'Did he really?.'

Starscream's face set.

He moved, and there was a deafening bang, and Dreadwing slumped to the floor.

Starscream didn't seem to register what he had done. Luckily for him, no one else did either. Dreadwing was facedown on the ground, blood—was it supposed to be that red?— seeping out from under him. Primus, he was dead. Moonracer covered her mouth. Her phone slipped out of her hand.

It was like time had slowed. She could see it tumbling and grabbed for it, but it clattered to the ground.

"Fuck."

The silence broke.

"What?" Howled Starscream, tucking his pistol into the waistband of his pants. "Get her."

And that was her cue to leave.

Moonracer scrambled back into the office, tugging the door shut behind her. She could hear the shouts as Starscream's crew reacted and began to sprint up the stairs.

"Oh shit, oh shit!" Moonracer locked the door and shoved the chair under the knob. Then, she opened the door leading outside and took the stairs two at a time, barely conscious of her sloppy footing. Why had she worn heels?

"Okay," she said to herself, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice, "car. Get to the car. Get to the police."

She hit the ground roughly, with a shock she knew she'd feel tomorrow, if she made it out of this alive. The first level door swung open. Moonracer clapped her hand over her mouth and sprinted for one of the semis parked alongside the warehouse. Four people spilled out of it. Starscream followed them.

"Well she didn't fucking walk here!" He said, squinting into the darkness. "Find her car! Slash the tires; I don't care! But she doesn't leave here!"

Get to the car was out.

Moonracer crouched and covered her face with her hands. Ugh, were her eyes running? This was not the time for tears.

"Okay," she mouthed, "calm down. Calm down. They have to give up eventually. I can wait for a clear spot and run to one of the other warehouses, across the street…"

There was no way she could make it that far without someone noticing her, and these people had guns.

"Dammit."

The people upstairs must have broken down the office door, because the door leading outside opened.

"She's not in here!"

"Did you check under the desk?" Starscream said, hauling himself up the stairs.

"She ain't here, boss!"

"Eugh! Useless!" Starscream stepped back inside. Moonracer glanced around. The sharp hiss of escaping air resounded in the empty air; her car was out, but it seemed like the coast was clear to get to a more secure hiding spot. She readied herself, and sprinted back behind the warehouse. Even if her wheels were shot, she could still drive. If she looped around the building and came at the car from the opposite side of the warehouse doors, maybe she could get out before she was noticed. Moonracer slipped around the back of the warehouse, heart pounding in her chest.

Every step she took sounded like thunder against the dusty earth. Her foot caught on a bit of rock and she stumbled, banging her knee against the side of the warehouse. Shit! Moonracer froze.

"You hear something?"

Moonracer ran. The voice had come from behind her, so the other side of the building was probably still clear. She rounded the corner and nearly bowled over someone.

She tripped and went down. Moonracer pulled off her shoe and scrambled to her feet, whirling to face the person.

Knock Out held up his hands.

"Back off!" Moonracer said, voice tight with fear. She held her shoe up defensively.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" He hissed. "I'm on your side!"

"I think she went this way!" Voices echoed from behind the warehouse. Moonracer ducked behind the nearest semi.

"Knock Out?" The voice seem surprised. "You seen the chick? We heard somethin' this way."

Knock Out scoffed. "No. I haven't seen anything. I don't know why Starscream sent us on this fool's errand."

"She saw him, uh… She saw how Dreadwing, er, died. Probably wants to make sure she won't snitch to the cops. Or that she isn't a cop, y'know?"

"Probably." Knock Out said agreeably. "I'll keep watch here. Why don't you all check inside again? She might've slipped inside while no one was looking."

"Yeah, that makes sense. A cop would want to look at the body." The speaker's jaw clicked shut. "Uh..."

"He's dead."

"...Right. Catch you later."

Knock Out was silent for a moment. "You can come out now."

Moonracer put her shoe back on and stepped out from behind the truck. "Thanks. Why did you help me?"

"You think I like Starscream?" Knock Out arched a brow at her. The concealer over his eye was gone, and Moonracer could see the sickly mottled green bruises surrounding it.

"So what is this, then? Let me go so you can take over when Starscream is arrested?" Moonracer kept a careful distance between her and Knock Out.

"Again with the assumptions? You know what they say about those things. No, I don't want to take over; I don't even want to be here in the first place, but you know." He shrugged, "Circumstance makes villains of us all."

"You're an asshole." Moonracer cautiously glanced around the semi truck. "Damnit. I can't make it to my car. Why can't you lie better?"

"Oh, excuse me for saving your life." Knock Out rolled his eyes.

"Fuck off. I'm gonna make a run for it."

"And get how far?" Knock Out caught her shoulder and spun her around. "If you die, I'm stuck as Starscream's lackey until he dies or he kills me, and I'm not interested in sewing up his dealers for that long."

Moonracer threw his hand off. "Alright, any brilliant suggestions, then?"

As one, their eyes lighted on Shockwave's ugly sedan.

"Same model as my first car," Moonracer muttered to herself.

"Yes, it's very ugly; your point?"

"My point is, I'm stealing it." Moonracer ran the short distance across the parking lot and skidded to a stop next to the car. She tried the door. Unlocked. Perfect. Guess Mr. Logical wasn't fond of anti-theft measures.

Knock out walked up next to her, carefully glancing over his shoulder. "Hurry up. Starscream has to have given up on the warehouse by now. He's going to start looking for you outside."

"Well, that'll give me time to do this." She yanked the wheel sharply and pulled down on the wheel cover at the same time. The ding old plastic popped off, revealing a bundle of wires. Moonracer got to work carefully stripping the wires she needed and twisted them together.

Before the last wire, she looked up at Knock Out. "Thanks. Also, I spat in your coffee."

Knock Out grimaced. "That's fine. Starscream stole it anyways."

"Ha, serves him right. You might want to hide. This is going to make some noise."

"When you escape, make sure to tell the police I was instrumental in helping you get away. Embellish it a little; I showed up out of the blue and knocked out someone trying to stab you or something."

"And saved a kitten while you were at it. Sure." Moonracer twisted the wires together and the engine roared to life. She quickly slammed the door shut and shifted into first, then pulled out of the parking lot. Her poor car was sitting where she had left it, nearly touching the ground now that the tires were flat. She sped past a group of startled dealers and pulled onto the main road.

Moonracer heard engines start behind her; she wasn't out of danger yet. There were two cars in her rearview, both cheap and sort of scrapped together from other cars.

Shockwave's car really was awful, and the other two cars were gaining on her. They looked low slung, maybe she could lose them off-road. Moonracer turned into the desert, towards the mesas that bordered the town to the north. The ground was mostly flat, but that didn't mean there weren't rocks and shrubs that would tear a car's chassis to pieces.

The two cars took her turn and followed her into the shrubland. Not good. They were still gaining, more slowly now, but the hundred feet or so of space between them was steadily vanishing.

At this rate Moonracer was going to be caught and shot.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a turn off back onto the road. There was about a quarter of a mile in-between her and the mesa face.

Moonracer set her face. "Okay. Just imagine a cardigan."

She dropped down into second gear and wrapped her hand around the brake, eyes fixed on the rock wall. Now!

Moonracer slammed the clutch and yanked the handbrake up, then flicked the wheel towards the road. She pulled the brake off and let out the clutch. The gears rolled smoothly into third gear as she revved the engine. She turned the steering wheel into the drift and swung, perfectly, around the corner. The mesa face was perpendicular to her now, and she could see the detail in the rock through the passenger window.

The two cars following her weren't as lucky. The first one slammed into the rock, crumpling the hood and blowing the airbags in the driver's face. The second car slowed a little and swerved before hitting the mesa. He clipped the side of the hood and went spiraling out of control.

Moonracer let out a victorious whoop and pulled back onto the highway.

She patted her pockets for her cellphone, and realized it was missing. It was probably smashed to bits under Starscream's foot by now. Okay, that sucked, but was this still doable. She fished in Shockwave's cupholders for a quarter.

It was dark out, darker than it should have been, and Moonracer felt wetness under her eyes and a rasp in her throat. Damn. Damn. She held her breath. No, now wasn't the time to have a breakdown. That could wait; she had more important things to do right now.

The nearest payphone was at a mostly empty gas station about three miles down the road. Moonracer got out of the car and stumbled over to it, her ankle twinging in protest. She put the quarter in and dialed.

"Hello?" Arcee's clipped voice said.

"Uh, hey, Arcee," Moonracer twisted the phone cord around her finger, "it's me, Moonracer."

"Ah." Oh, she sounded bummed.

"Uh, yeah. I'm late. For the date. For regular Arcee. Sorry, but I've got a crazy story. Um," Moonracer swallowed down her panic, "can I talk to Officer Arcee?"

Dun, dun, dunnnnnn. Okay, see you all next time! Uh, whenever that is...