I do not own Transformers or TheLegacy79's plot line.

Set just after chapter 7 of New Feelings.

...

Bumblebee was extremely hyper. Perhaps it had been the combination of being allowed back on-duty, having a string of uneventful patrols; his family was here- on Earth! - And reveling in the fact that Arcee was finally his. Whatever the reason, he was jacked up on excitement, contentment, love, and a little more energy than usual coursing through his systems.

Raf had arrived at school in almost record time, and even taking a really long route through the desert coming back, Bumblebee had been completely unable to dispel his energy.

"BUMBLEBEE! BULKHEAD! Quit it!" The shouts and clanking paused.

"It's not just us! Minimus and Arcee are sparring, too!" Bumblebee called.

"At least they can do it without it sounding like the roof is caving in!" Ratchet retorted. "Keep it down!"

Minimus Prime directed a questioning look Bulkhead. "Does Ratchet know that...?"

From across the room, Arcee let out a short bark of laughter. "Nope!" called Bumblebee gleefully, managing to keep Arcee pinned down in the process.

Bulkhead stepped back from Minimus, stretching a little and grinning at her. "I'm just his favorite bot to yell at."

"I don't think so, 'Bulk," Bumblebee said, turning to Bulkhead. "I'm his new 'favorite', after that last stunt I pulled- Hey! Not fair!" Arcee grabbed his door wing as he turned, pulling him off balance as she twisted out from under him, giving him a light jab in the side with her elbow. "I thought we had taken a timeout!"

"They stopped." Arcee said, canting her head towards Minimus and Bulkhead, who had both backed away and watching the couple with no small amount of amusement. "You, on the other hand, kept me pinned, so I could only assume that we were still sparring."

"It was only so we could continue where we left off!"

Arcee rolled her eyes as she got to her full height, hands on her hips. "If you say so. Are you going to get off the floor?"

Minimus's grin was getting wider.

Springing up from his position on one knee, he spun with enviable agility and half-tackled Arcee in a hug.

"I win," he told her playfully.

As Arcee opened her mouth to protest the public display of affection, Bumblebee suddenly seemed to become aware of his surroundings and quickly pulled away, apologetic. "Sorry," He beeped quietly. "I didn't mean to-"

"its fine, Bee. Later."

Minimus looked thoughtful for a second, then leaned over to Bulkhead, barely even having to stand on tiptoe to become level with his audio, and gave a hushed inquiry. Bumblebee and Arcee became alarmed at the confused expression crossing Bulkhead's face and exchanged nervous glances.

Bumblebee was convinced that it had been his fault. If only I hadn't hugged her...

Scrap, Arcee moaned mentally. I didn't want anyone to find out yet...

"In a 'relationship'? I don't think so..." Bulkhead murmured. "I mean, they grew up together, and we're all family. Now that you mention it though..." he laughed. "They're perfect for each other."

Bee groaned and face palmed much to the amusement of Minimus. "Don't jump to conclusions around Ironhide yet, Minimus, please. I think I'd rather hear about that kind of thing from Ratchet."

"Which is what, exactly?" The irate medic yelled from the next room. "I can hear you, you know. Especially if you keep yelling."

"Nothing!" Minimus called, succumbing to a giggling fit. "He's just like Mom and Ironhide and Chromia told me," she managed. "Except maybe a little less scary."

"He can be very scary when he wants to be, believe me." Arcee smirked. "Hey, Bulk, I think that we should officially extend an offer of family to her, it might make her feel more welcome."

Bulkhead nodded in agreement.

Bumblebee, pretending to be very formal, told her, "From now on, you are a little sister to us."

"In everything but blood," Arcee quipped.

"What is 'blood'?" Minimus asked, curious as to what 'blood' entailed.

"Well... there's more than one definition," Arcee began, "but in this case, blood is just weather or not we were sparked by the same bots. We weren't, so... not in blood."

"Oh."

"We'll cover your aft in the field if you do your best to cover ours." Bulkhead added.

"I'll, um, do my best." Minimus replied.

"And your nickname should be Min, because it's easier for me to say." Bumblebee added. "My voice is somewhat limited, as you might have noticed."

Minimus nodded as Bulkhead continued to explain. "He was interrogated by Megatron. When the fragger couldn't make him talk, he just went and crushed his voice box for revenge."

"Whoa." Minimus whispered, horrified. "So you can only use base language?"

"Yep."

"That's not entirely true." Arcee pointed out, "Sometimes you can speak using your regular voice."

"Yeah, sort of. It's staticky and hurts like the pit, you can barely hear it, Ratchet keeps telling me not to because it makes it worse, and that's if I'm lucky."

"Sometimes, he'll do it by accident."

Bumblebee made a groaning noise. "I hate it when that happens. Anyway, is Min okay as a nickname?

"Actually, Chromia calls me that already."

"Figures I turn out like my caretakers in all the weird ways."

"They did raise you," Arcee pointed out, grinning, "and I'm sometimes called Cee, and Bulkhead's Bulk, and Ratchet's Ratch, and Wheeljack's Jack or Jackie."

"I haven't seen him." Minimus said, confused.

"Eh, Jackie's not a bot that hangs around in any one place for too long." Bulkhead admitted. "But we'll help each other out once in a while, and he'll stay for a visit. But he doesn't really let himself get attached to too many things."

"Some bots never change." Arcee agreed ruefully.

"Will I get to meet him?"

"Eventually." Bumblebee assured her.

Minimus sighed. "What happens now? Do we sit down at that human sized table and drink warm energon while we get acquainted?"

Arcee rewarded her with a wry grin. "Nah, we just get acquainted by risking our lives and saving each other's afts trying to deal with yet another crisis." She paused, considering. "Come to think of it, this is the longest period of downtime in months." They had wandered into the command center, having given up sparring for the time being.

A few minutes later, an alert popped up on one of the main consoles, earning a muttered curse from Ratchet and a disgruntled sigh of, "let's just get this over with." He quickly typed a reply and turned to the small group.

"I've received a communication from Wheeljack, Bulkhead. He's landing in about an hour."

"Sweet!" Bulkhead cheered. "I can't wait to tell Miko!"

"Um...'Sweet'?"

"Speak of the devil..." Arcee trailed off.

"What?"

"and he shall appear." Bumblebee finished.

"Will someone please explain what in the name of the Autobot cause is being said?!" Minimus finally exploded.

"Human terms."

"Human speech."

"Human expressions." They replied.

All at the same time, which only served to make Minimus more confused.

Bulkhead laughed. "You'll learn. The internet can help, though."

Minimus shrugged, and wandered to her private quarters to research human sayings. Arcee stalked off, saying something about cleaning her blades; and Bumblebee exited soon after, not really providing any explanation.

Bulkhead, suddenly alone with Ratchet, watched the screen expectantly for Wheeljack's energy signature to get within range.

...

Bumblebee quickly made his way to Arcee's room, glad that most of the older bots had gone out for some quality time together and energon scouting. He knocked on the door, which was immediately opened to him. Arcee's blades weren't anywhere to be seen, however, making it safe for Bumblebee to hug her.

"Bee!" Arcee giggled.

"I still say I won."

"Are you looking for a trophy?" She bantered back.

"No..."

Not bothering to wait any longer, Arcee reached up and met Bumblebee's lips with hers, who eagerly reciprocated and deepened the kiss.

"They figured it out, didn't they?" She sighed when they pulled away.

"They would have figured it out eventually." he pointed out. "There's no way we could have hidden it much longer."

"True." she managed, before Bumblebee reclaimed her full attention.

...

Wheeljack landed his ship a safe distance away from the base, grabbing an extra grenade as he exited the ship and shut it down to avoid decepticon beacons. Jogging lightly to loosen up his stiff joints, he folded into his alt mode and roared across the desert.

Halfway to the base, he suddenly remembered the toxin containment units that he'd found. Exasperated, he turned around and drove back to his ship, hoping Ratchet would look at it for him, preferably without yelling.

If he was lucky, maybe he'd be able to share a cube or two with Bulkhead.

...

"Hey, Jackie!" Bulkhead called by way of greeting. "What took ya?"

"And it just got quiet too..." Ratchet growled venomously.

"Don't sweat it doc, I'm not here to cause a ruckus-"

"-But you'll manage to anyway." Ratchet cut in.

"-I found something you might wanna take a look at." Wheeljack finished, mentally rolling his optics.

"You going to a car show, Jackie?" Bulkhead joked.

"Some other day," he said, shifting gingerly out of alt mode and standing slowly. "I've got something; I don't know what, in a few toxin containment units. Found it out floating in this solar system's asteroid belt, with the Academy's old insignia and identification. There was some kind of impact, because a bunch of 'em were broken. I got a few that were intact. Any idea as to what it could be?"

"Bulkhead, stay back." Ratchet snapped, before he could approach Wheeljack. "As to what you found, something very bad, Wheeljack. Did you run any scans?"

"I don't have the tools to, doc. I was hoping that you would."

Ratchet nodded in understanding, shifting to a more professional demeanor. "Very well. Put the containment units down on the worktable on the far left, and go stand by that berth."

"Got it."

"And don't touch anything." Ratchet added as an afterthought, reaching for one of his portable scanners and well as activating the one imbedded in his systems. He walked over towards Wheeljack first. "Did you come into contact with any of the broken vessels or their contents?"

"Well... I don't know. Probably." Wheeljack shrugged.

"Mmhmm." Ratchet hummed to himself, passing the handheld scanner over Wheeljack. He became even more concerned as he studied the results. "Frag it, Wheeljack!"

"What'd I do?" Wheeljack asked casually, attempting to mask his apprehension. "Ratchet?"

"Three viruses!" Ratchet half yelled. "THREE! WHAT were you thinking?"

"Well..."

"You're going to offline yourself at this rate!" The medic continued furiously.

"Ratch-" Bulkhead tried to say.

"You'll need at least two weeks before your systems recover!" Ratchet continued, ignoring the green mech, "Not to mention I might have to quarantine you."

"Doc, I feel fine." Wheeljack had heard all about Ratchet's 'tender' care.

"Like Pit you do," he huffed, not being convinced for a second. "My scans say otherwise. Not to mention you were being half as annoying as usual, and your engine was running slow."

"Now what?" Wheeljack asked, deciding to be on guard for the moment.

"I need to work on an antivirus for the most malevolent virus that you've got, and then move on the more minor ones." Ratchet shook his head. "There's nothing else I can really do besides keep you comfortable and energized, really. You were infected for a while; these viruses have been incubating for the past day or two. That's why you're so drained now." Ratchet sounded apologetic.

"Joy." Wheeljack muttered darkly.

"Just wait until tomorrow. Then the rest of the symptoms will kick in." Ratchet put in wryly. "You'd best take some energon while you can still handle normal grade."

"You don't mean-" Wheeljack began.

"You probably won't purge, as long as you don't strain yourself. But," he added, "you won't have much of an appetite, and I'll probably have to hook you up to an energon line to be safe. Since we would like to avoid that for as long as possible; because I'll need to break it down so your systems can withstand a direct transfusion, you will be taking your own energon while you feel up to it."

Wheeljack groaned. "You're sure about all of this?"

"Well, all I know for certain is that you will get worse before you get better." Ratchet told him with a shrug, handing Wheeljack a cube of energon. "Now, try and get that down." He walked out to where Bulkhead was standing, the wrecker looking dejected at the turn of events. "Bulkhead, for Primus's sake, he's not going to die. Nothing's stopping you from talking to him, either. Just keep your distance, he's contagious." Wheeljack smirked. The gruff medic had a habit of following every comment that could be taken as nice with an order, or a statement that practically screamed 'do not bang on the glass!' Or something equally not-nice.

"What about-" you, Bulkhead started to say, but Ratchet didn't let him finish.

"If there's an emergency, comm me before you do anything." Downloading the data from the scans onto a computer terminal, Ratchet began concocting a formula for the anti-virus.

"How do you feel?" Bulkhead had learned that when confronting Wheeljack, directly was the only way to go.

"Honestly? Like scrap." Wheeljack admitted. When he thought about it, he'd been feeling progressively worse as he'd gone towards earth. He'd been tired, sore, forgetful, and lazy. As far as he knew, it was impossible for him to do lazy. Ever. "I can't really say I'm looking forward to having Ratchet play nurse."

"Eh, the doc-bot's not that bad, as long as you don't get in his way. And you can't say that he isn't good at his job."

"I'll be my best behavior." Wheeljack drawled, staring at his three-quarters of a cube with distaste. He'd been hoping that the energon would make his thoughts slightly less fuzzy, but the fuel had simply stuck to the back of his throat and sat heavily in his tanks. He already felt full, despite the fact that he'd been starved just a few minutes earlier. All the instincts he'd earned as a warrior screamed at him to finish the cube, he'd need the energy eventually.

All the other instincts he had either agreed with the warrior he'd become or screamed to not have anymore, to rest.

So he downed the cube as quickly as possible, choking slightly on the last swallow.

"Jackie, you okay?"

"'M fine." He grimaced and swallowed thickly, hoping to get the taste of energon out of his mouth. He growled in frustration when it didn't work, his hand automatically reaching for his grenade, as if he was tempted to simply blow up his problem.

"Uhhh..." Bulkhead was reminded just how bad he was at medical analysis.

Wheeljack didn't respond, simply staring off into space, locking his joints against the imminent collapse. They sat in silence for a little, Bulkhead looking rather unsure of himself, and Wheeljack appearing, well, ill.

Finally, Wheeljack roused himself, getting to his feet, and walking over to the bunk provided for him in the med bay. Bulkhead looked like he was about to call for Ratchet, or worse, actually helping the engineer himself. Wheeljack managed just fine, however, and lay down. "Night, 'Bulk."

Bulkhead shifted uncomfortably, but didn't move.

"Goodnight!" He sounded like a sparkling, but he didn't particularly care at the moment. After spending recharge after recharge in his ship, alone, he was used to complete silence, other than the Jackhammers' system's steady humming. Not to mention he could practically feel Bulkheads' concerned optics boring a hole into the back of his head. He rolled onto his other side and covered his optics with his arm against the harsh work lights of the med bay. "And could you turn off the lights on your way out?"

"Huh? Oh, sure."

"Thanks."

Bulkhead looked back as he switched the lights off, worried for his friend.

Wheeljack groaned in annoyance at the footsteps that had stopped, yet again. "The doc said I'm not gonna die. You can leave now."

Bulkhead finally relented and retreated from the med bay.

A.N.: My perception of Bumblebee's voice would mean that many proper nouns and terms exclusive to human culture, Bumblebee would be unable to actually say. So that's why when he was finishing the saying "Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear;" he substituted 'the devil' for 'he' because the closest thing to the devil in Cybertronian culture is Unicron, which doesn't make much sense, considering. This little bit of a story will continue, but I thought it would be a good idea to post this as its own chapter.