Author's notes: Thank for the reviews. Please set the follow alert to know when new chapters post. Annabelle is a human Prime and all Primes have 1 of 3 powers. Hers is mixing metal on a molecular scale like the Allspark but without the ability to create sparks. This chapter is dedicated to anyone who has ever talked to a child and realize they see clearer than adults sometimes. A bit of fluff before battles again. Until all are one.

TF – You know you are Addicted to Transformers when:

32. Someone asks what the best part of your job is, and your first thoughts are: exotic travel locations, the amount of stuff I blow up, working with mondo size aliens and never needing a babysitter for my kids again.

"Is this a tale told by an idiot?" Annabelle asked, swinging her blonde hair ponytail back. Dressed in her favorite blue jumper, she sat on the top rail, feet swinging. The fact they were stories high in the air on a communications platform in the middle of the night irrelevant. Her dad and Autobots returning to the Diego Garcia base shortly, her mom with the welcoming team on the tarmac. One soldier stood by the far door, more concerned with an outside attack than the little girl and government official behind him in an otherwise empty hangar. The liaison taking the opportunity to talk to the one person so guarded she didn't exist in any official reports. And hiding his interrogation with the words 'would you like to hear a Transformer story?'

"I beg your pardon?" He sputtered, not expecting that.

"Daddy says people who watch and say stuff without having the courage to do stuff are idiots. "

"Yes, Major Lennox would have that opinion no doubt. Being enlisted. There are also those who serve out of uniform," the man explained, running fingers through his hair before smoothing it back down.

"Is he a gen…. genie? No, granite? The one telling the story." she struggled with the right word.

"General?"

"No, where it's kind of all the same."

"Generic?"

"Yeah. Just a soldier like in other stories. What's his name?"

"Bob. Soldier Bob."

"What does Bob do?" She leaned over, tapping the metal bar before sitting back up.

"Military stuff."

"Gen..e..ric military stuff or is he a specialist like weapons or scout or Prime?"

"Covert Ops. Can't say what he and his team do."

"Team? If it's about the Transformers why are there so many humans already?"

"Because we are not to the Transformers part yet," the man stated, starting to get flushed in his face. "We go in first then they come rolling in, usually causing lots of damage."

"Nope. They were here first with the dinosaurs like Grimlock and the big meanie with the sun reaper machine."

"This time humans were first on scene. With a super-secret mission to save our planet. Do you know how?"

"Blow it up!" she cheered.

"Is that always the answer? Weapons?"

"It's Ironhide answer. Bad meanies deserve it. Good Transformers protect," she smiled, pantomiming his dual arm cannons, keeping her legs locked on the bar.

"Rage fueled good Transformers landing then."

"Uh huh. Energon fuels them. And sometimes solar power though they have sparks too," she corrected.

"Are you telling the story or me?"

"Not much of a story so far. No Optimus and no explosions," she sighed. Not tired with the time difference half a world away she didn't like being told to stay behind. Her friend Ironhide worth the waiting though and to keep her promise to mom to be good.

"They were looking for a long-lost artifact," he intoned dramatically, spreading his arms wide.

"Why long? Can't it be sometimes ago lost or yesterday forgotten, and they went back looking for it like mommy and her car keys? We have spare sets when they become losted."

"It's lost not losted. Long lost means it is forgotten."

"If forgotten then how do you know the story of it?" She challenged, twirling her braid around her wrist.

"Forgotten where it is. Not about it being important," the man corrected, running a hand through his hair, making it stand nearly upright.

"If its important why would they lose it?"

"Things happen. Sometimes it is by choice to protect others," he pointed directly at her.

"Like Sector Seven hiding the Allspark and Megatron then losing him to attack Mission City?"

"I can neither confirm or deny those events," he ground out, reminding himself it was a little girl he was talking to and not a congressional board of inquiry.

"Bureaucratic stuff."

The liaison blinked, surprised she would know that word of all of them, making a mental note to increase her intelligence rating. "A single record existed of this mysterious artifact."

"On a data pad or stone wall like the Temple at Simfur?"

"On an old map. Hard to read and covered with ancient symbols," he continued, having no idea where she was talking about.

"I am learning to read ancient Cybertronian or Prime speak. I could read it or Elita could. She is Prime's wife and fierce and fast. Not fast like the twins but runs over Decepticon cassettes. I like her. She feels ribbon swirly in my head. The ribbon where it holds the back of my dress together. There but not there keeping it neat," Annabelle rattled off, rocking back and forth over the rail.

"Would you please get down? We are awfully high up." He reached, blinking as the metal rail below stretched up under her feet and the top rail formed a round seat for her to sit on. "Is this a Transformer? Are we standing on?" he blinked, looking around rapidly.

"Nope. Just metal. It keeps me safe."

"Okay then," he shifted his chair, feeling nothing move. "The map told where to find the artifact."

"If a map then how was it lost?"

"It pointed to where it was last. Better? They, the good guys raced to get there first before the bad guys could."

"If it's forgotten how come some many people are heading there? Could they all read the map? That's not hard if the bad guys do."

"Look," he began standing up and moving closer, clearly frustrated. "I have had about enough. You need to sit down and listen to me and I will ask the questions. I am in charge. Not you. Do you understand!" His tone got louder and deeper, missing the hangar doors opening and the first Transformer rolling in. A small yellow Camaro rolling completely silent.

Smiling, the bright blue-eyed girl leaned back, letting go of the rails. Transformation sounds occurred instantly, one directly below her as Bumblebee shifted up and out, catching her. The second by the main hangar door, half open but enough to clear the black GMC top kick. Or at least his alt mode form of a top kick.

"Youngling is off limits. Understand!" Ironhide growled, cannons rolling before the transform completed.

Hanging upside down in Bumblebee's hands, Annabelle waved before the scout held her close to his chest plates. "I knew you would catch me."

"You mean the world to me partner," voice clip sounded, Bumblebee setting her gently on the cement floor.

An hour later and she was tucked into bed in the Autobots area, sized for them. Annabelle reached out, giving her guardian a hug, wrapping her arms around his outstretched fingers. "Missed you. And he was not very good at telling stories. Can you read me prancing ponies bedtime please 'Hide?"

"For you," the old warrior mech vented lightly, shifting his black armored body to sit on the floor by her raised wall bunk. "Any story. But that one again?"

"Please?"

"Always my sparkling."

To be continued…