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A celebrated cavalry scout, counted among the remainder few of the victorious Autobots, Bumblebee considered himself a friend to humans, Primes, and shockingly tyrants—all titles that few could claim to their designation in one go. By all means, Bumblebee's dedication to his faction and the steadfast loyalty he sacrificed to it should have at least elevated him within the ranks, right?
Nope. Instead of flowers, he got asked to willingly bench himself and disappear from the public entirely. Sure, Optimus had been right to trust his instincts when it came to their partnership with GHOST but… If honesty was in play, Bumblebee hadn't contributed much when it really got down to it.
Bee mentored the Terrans but his teaching methods were… unorthodox and definitely by no means regulation. Half of his initial lessons were geared towards getting Twitch and Thrash battle-ready as soon as possible so that he could wipe his servos clean of them. Even though it didn't take him long to come around and start to care for the Maltobots as a whole, the rest of his teachings were hobbled together newbuild-friendly exercises.
Those kids managed to defeat the mind-shelled Autobots and Mandroid all on their own, skills they gained through their own merit.
None of the Maltos really needed Bumblebee, especially not anymore.
He lingered around anyway, hoping that he could be of some service to them. As he waited for Optimus to… As he sat parked in a limbo waiting to hear if he could stay.
At least Mo took him up at his silent offer for usefulness, although Bumblebee could have done without her hasty grab of his interior door handle as she swung him open, "I'll try to be quick, but not too quick. I gotta make sure that everything is perfect!"
She clicked her seat belt off, the buckle weighing down the strap as she shrugged it off her shoulders. It curled in the section between his seats and his door, so Bumblebee straightened it out and righted it back into place.
All smiles and giggles, Mo slid out of Bumblebee as she dragged her backpack against the interior leather seats. Without looking back, her enthusiasm made her forget that her ride—from scout to chauffeur, oh the indignity—was more than a little bit alive and she slammed the door a bit too harshly behind her.
"Gentle, Mo," Bumblebee scolded, keeping his voice low but stern. With GHOST finally disbanded and the Autobots back to running the show, he didn't precisely need to stay within the parameters of his covert subroutines, but… the habit was ingrained in him from the last decade or so.
Spend enough time as a silent unassuming vehicle, and you'd start to play the part whether you liked it or not. And the thing that human manufactured cars didn't do? Talk. Well, most of them didn't anyhow. Regardless, he didn't need anyone to overhear them—humans had an almost inherent need to stick their noses into the business of strangers.
"Sorry, Bumblebee!" Sheepishly, Mo rubbed the side of his door in a misguided attempt at comfort. It wasn't as though she had hurt him, he was—after all—made of sturdier material than that, but it was always good to remind her and Robby that Cybertronians—Cybertroni or Terran—were still people even in their alternative modes.
Shrugging her backpack higher onto her shoulder, Mo bounced in place with a little skip as she excitedly waved him off. "Be back in a jiffy!"
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, watching her run into the value general store. Once he confirmed that she made it safe inside, Bumblebee proceeded to doze off slightly.
Mo's request had been… unusual, but not strange. Apparently, her class was handing out valentines the day before the actual commercial holiday itself. Unfortunately, she realized far too late that she didn't have anything to give out in return to her classmates as searching for the Emberstone fragments had completely occupied her time and her mind.
Considering how last minute it was, she didn't trust herself to make personalized or even handmade cards that wouldn't give away the rushed nature of her contribution. Naturally, Mo scrounged up all of her allowance money and very politely asked if Bumblebee would take her to the store so that she could buy some instead.
Bumblebee agreed, but only after he asked why she didn't ask her mother or her father. Or even her siblings, who surely would have all been helm over wheels about it.
"Welll," Mo dragged out, barely fighting off a toothy smile. "It wouldn't exactly be a surprise if I bought their gifts in front of them, you know?"
Sighing, Bumblebee turned his radio on with a click. Switching radio stations rapidly, he tried to find one that didn't either have romantic ballads playing one after another or were manned by a host that didn't make his optics roll into the back of his skull cavity. He didn't know how humans could stand being advertised to at all hours of the day, in increasingly predatory ways…
Eventually, the decision as always was made for him when the music jarringly stopped as a dial-up tone echoed through his cabin. On his dashboard, the screen conveyed to nobody that Optimus Prime wanted to get in contact with Bumblebee.
Every component of his frame tensed, letting the call ring out for one more moment before he swiftly established the connection, "Optimus, what's up?"
.://Bumblebee! It is good to hear your voice. The mirth usually reserved for others cloyed in Bumblebee's speakers as he listened to his Prime. .://I merely wanted to inquire when you would return back to HQ? Megatron informs me that Dorothy told him that you had taken young Morgan out for a little errand. Are you two almost finished?
"Um." Bumblebee re-calibrated his chronological awareness and made a rough guesstimate of how much longer Mo would be. "I'm sure she'll be done soon. She's getting valentines for her classmates and her family."
.://Valentines…? Oh! Yes, I recall now. The human holiday to express their love for their companions and partners?
"Got it in one, Prime."
.://That is rather sweet of her. You know, I once considered handing out valentines to you all, my beloved troops, but never found the appropriate moment—or a willing confectioner to create Cybertronian-friendly sweets!—to do so. I suppose the time for such acts has passed… Unless—do you think that Elita-1 and Megatron would appreciate a valentine from me? Perhaps Grimlock, Arcee, and Wheeljack would enjoy one. Your thoughts?
Clearing his intake, Bumblebee interrupted the frankly weird and awkward tangent as he reigned Optimus back on topic. "I wouldn't really know, Optimus, that kind of thing isn't my style. But did you need me for something in particular? It's not like I'm doing much waiting in the parking lot for Mo to come back out, plus it's safe to discuss because this is a secure line! Sooo… I'm all audials."
.://If you insist! Bumblebee, Optimus started, entirely unaware of his ability to command his undivided attention. .://Now that the Maltos have come into their own as defenders of Witwicky, I would like to recall you back to Autobot headquarters. Permanently.
Shuddering, Bumblebee curbed his disappointment. He knew, blatantly and without any form of denial, that an extraction order would eventually arrive. Preemptively, he popped his happy little bubble himself—discarding the fantasy where he belonged to a group that actually wanted him. Because at the end of the cycle, Bumblebee and the spark in his laser core would always belong to the Autobots… to Optimus, first and foremost.
Before he could acknowledge the order, and request that he had some time to say goodbye to the Maltos, Optimus continued:
.://Additionally, I have another mission for you.
"Anoth–Another mission?" Bumblebee flinched, rolling back on his wheels. Correcting himself, he immediately asked for clarification, "What kind of mission?"
.://I know it is a lot to ask of you, my old friend, but… We suspect that the Decepticons intend to betray us. Our truce holds, for now, and while I would like to believe that Starscream is no longer up to his old schemes, I would rather be safe than sorry.
He felt it then—Optimus' hand eclipsing his shoulder as he softly told Bumblebee, still a mini-Autobot and soon to be dead to the world, "I would rather be safe than sorry."
.://Your mission would be to tail the Decepticons for an undetermined amount of time. Ideally, the unification between our two factions would stay true, but if not it is imperative that you keep your fingers on the pulse of the situation—that is to say, the very second a hint of a whisper carries about a plot to betray us you will inform us.
Standard scouting. The sort of mission that Bumblebee craved for during his time away. A task that would remind Autobot Command that he mattered, that his role as their willing servant was not yet absolute.
"And if they find me out before they've proven themselves untrustworthy?" Bumblebee asked. A necessary precaution, but one that would jeopardize the fragile balance of the brokered peace between the two groups. He didn't doubt that the Decepticons spied on them in return, but that was expected. The Autobots did not engage in duplicity… on the surface. Below the depths, what transpired between a Prime and his shadow agents… "What then?"
.://Should that happen, you would be required to fake–
Splicing into the present from the past, "–your death."
.://Having gone rogue. Your affiliation with the Autobots will end, or–
A consolation that did nothing to fill the bleeding gaps, "–so it will appear on record."
.://And we will pursue you as a traitor, to no avail for you will have disappeared. I trust that you will be able to handle a mission of this nature–
"Again." Bumblebee finished, quieting his computer from overlaying the hurt from fifteen years ago.
It would only serve to dilute the present.
"I…" Could lie, bold-faced and overtly cocky about how it was about time Optimus came to him regarding a task with some actual substance. Unlike his requests to teach, his instance to make his scout a nanny. Bumblebee could also admit the truth, he could beg Optimus that he'd follow through with his orders but to not abandon him again. All that he had left, after years of conflict and bloodshed was his identity as an Autobot.
He opted for neither and stated neutrally, "I understand."
.://Excellent! I am heartened to know that I can continuously put my faith in you, Bumblebee. Now, I must go but we will talk in more depth later once you've returned to us.
Bumblebee did not bid Optimus goodbye. He passively allowed the Prime to disconnect and barely heard the return of the music from the station he last switched to.
Processor computing frantically, trying to find a way to back out of his ensured destruction, he barely noticed the return of Mo who tugged on his door handle and frowned when Bee didn't immediately unlock it.
She tugged on it again and Bumblebee jolted out of the pit he dug himself in. Unlocking the door for her, he struggled to wrangle his voice into something nonchalant, "Get everything you need?"
"Yeah!" She placed her brown paper bag into his back seat before hauling herself in. Mindful of his previous scolding, she closed his door softly.
Mo did not look up at his rear view mirror—a direct sensor that he used to peer into his cabin when the Maltos occupied his space—as she continued whilst digging through the bag, "I bought Mom and Dad huuuge cards that I'm gonna write little notes in about how much I love them! And for Robby, I got him one of those heart shaped containers full of different kinds of chocolates," giggling, she confided, "He only likes half of the flavors, which means he'll give the rest to me. As for my classmates, I got those simple hearts with a lollipop going through it."
"And for the Terrans…?"
"Apparently, they sell Autobot themed valentines! They're kinda small," Mo admitted. "But it's the thought that counts."
"That's…" He struggled to say anything appropriate. Lamely, he could only manage to say, "Wow."
"Don't worry, Bee, I didn't forget about you either. And I figured since you're gonna see it anyway, it's ok to gift you your valentine early," suddenly, Mo found what she was looking for and began to scoot forward. Leaning up, she draped two fuzzy hearts on a string from his rear view mirror. They swayed as they settled, dangling next to the religious cross that Alex had placed there months ago. "There! What do you think?"
"You… Got me one too?"
"Of course! It wouldn't be fair of me to leave you out if I'm getting a valentine for everyone. That's the rules. And you're family anyway," Mo smiled, her eyes drifting to her father's rosary. "You know, I learned in school that St. Valentine was also the patron saint of beekeepers! And, I guess in a way, we're kinda like beekeepers too! I mean," Her voice dipped between cheeky and nervous, afraid of rejection. "We got to keep you, right?"
Mo… All of the Maltos… The whole bunch of them… Bumblebee did not deserve the honor of knowing them, however briefly.
He hoped they wouldn't look back on him too harshly should the worst come to worst.
Faking it till it became true, Bumblebee elevated his voice and told her, "I guess you guys did. Thank you for the valentine, Mo."
"You're welcome, Bumblebee."