Beautiful Nightmare ChIV

Chapter IV : His Pretty Little Finger

...

A shiver ran down Optimus' spinal cord as he watched the live tracking feed scan over the area.

The Autobots had been searching for their youngest member for the past two days since he was taken, success unwilling to show itself and ease their aching sparks.

The loss of their bubbly little scout was starting to take a serious toll on the group. In hard times, his upbeat personality had always managed to keep the group positive; or annoyed. Whatever worked.

A deep sigh rushed from Optimus' vents and he turned away from the huge screen, his optics unable to handle anymore visible disappointment. He looked over the living room, a frown marring his faceplate. The wall that had been destroyed during Bumblebee's abduction had been rebuilt, now standing strong. It appeared to be the only thing to do so. Optimus carefully eyed his small team, each wearing looks of agony and confusion.

Bulkhead sat on the now upright couch, staring at the wall that used to sport a huge plasma screen TV. He thought back to the days when they had played videogames together.

Bumblebee danced around the room, Sari at his heels, both giggling away. Bumblebee scooped up the little human girl, dancing around with her, a game controller still held in his servo.

Bulkhead watched in amusement. The three friends had beaten the first Halo battle, annihilating the competition. He could hear the fussing of the other players from the opposite team, their cries of anguish easily reaching him from the headset atop Bumblebee's helm.

The huge mech smiled at his little buddy, accepting the playful hug he was given as the little scout crawled into his lap. They shouted at the screen as they played another battle. Bulkhead looked down at the little mech, his best friend.

They high fived when they effectively double teamed the last soldier.

"I love you Bulkhead! You're so cool!"

The bubbly yellow scout had Bulkhead wrapped around his pretty little finger.

He sighed.

Prowl, who was leaning in the doorway to the living room, was thinking similarly. He missed the little bubbly bot with all his spark. He wanted to play with him, laugh with him, touch him. He wanted to know that he was alright.

"Oh come on Prowl!" Bumblebee cried, his wide puppy optics shining brightly.

Prowl smiled, affectionately putting his arm around the younger bot's slim waist, leading him through the double doors.

Bumblebee squealed with delight, bouncing around the sparring room. He had never been allowed in Prowl's place of practice, and he was overjoyed to finally have permission to do so, let alone use it, too.

"You'll really let me spar with you?"

"Of course Little Bee." Prowl said with a fond smile, taking his usual spot at the center of the mats. He waved the young bot over. "Make sure your legs are spread..." the cyber-ninja said, rotating the little mech's hips so they were wide, his feet out and parallel. "Now you'll start by taking a step forward and rotating your body into a high kick. Keep your servos up at your chassis."

"Like this?"

"Perfect!"

"I'm so happy you're letting me train with you Prowl!"

"It's no problem Little Bee."

"I love you Prowl!"

The bubbly yellow scout had Prowl wrapped around his pretty little finger.

Prowl left the room, heading towards his sparring chamber for some much needed meditation, his processor filled with so much sadness, it almost stalled.

Ratchet watched him go, his faceplate set in a gruff frown. His dark blue optics flashed with sadness, allowing himself a sharp inhale from his vents.

As much as he hated to show it, the old med-bot always enjoyed spending time with their cute little scout. He just acted annoyed.

"Hold still Little One..."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can. Now spread your legs a little more."

"Ngh... ah!"

Bumblebee stared down at the stool he had knocked over when he leaped from his stance.

Ratchet had been drawing out, or at least attempting to, a diagram for his diagnostic paperwork, picking the youngest as his model.

"Bee!"

"I'm sorry Ratchet! This is just so boring!" Bumblebee whined, hastily setting the stool upright. The medic could plainly see that the little mech was flustered from having his short attack, his faceplate red with embarrassment. Obviously, he was not capable of standing still for more than a klik. "Can't we something more... exciting?"

"Oh? And what do you suggest?" Ratchet asked, setting down his tablet and raising a single optic ridge.

"Um..." Bumblebee's blue gaze fell to the floor, roaming along every scratch and groove. "We could... go for a drive?"

Ratchet smiled at the sight of those big puppy dog optics, his battle hardened spark softening. He should have expected the fast little bot to want to speed along on the open road; it's what he loved to do. He stood from his chair and rubbed the young mech's helm adoringly.

"Anything you want Little One."

"You may be old and cranky, but I love you anyways Ratchet!"

The bubbly yellow scout had Ratchet wrapped around his pretty little finger.

Ratchet shuddered.

Optimus watched as his broken team mourned the loss of their youngest. He himself felt the need to cry, but he had to remain strong for his team.

For Bumblebee.

"To the left... my left."

"Here?"

"... Yup!"

Bumblebee squealed in joy, jumping into Optimus' arms, grinning wildly at the new plasma screen television.

"It perfect!" He cried.

"It is." Optimus smiled, holding the little mech against his chassis, feeling his thin arms around his own strong neck. Another squeal burst from his vocal capacitor, tugging another smile from his leader's lips.

"You know you didn't have to do this right? Not that I don't completely love it!" Bumblebee cried.

"It's your – what do the humans call it – birthday. We had to get you something." Optimus said, grinning sheepishly at the yellow bot. "I remember you talking about how much you wanted one." He cradled him to his chassis, feeling the smaller's spark thumping excitedly against his own armor. No matter how many times he felt it, Bumblebee's spark never ceased to transfix him each of its soft pattering thumps.

"I love you Prime!"

The bubbly yellow scout had Optimus wrapped around his pretty little finger.

Optimus bit his lip component, cherished memories welling within him, as well as the other Autobots.

His optics hardened as he realized that the little yellow scout held a part of each of them; a piece of each of their own sparks cradled in his little servos. He had the ability to run them in circles with the smallest flick of is big beautiful optics.

"Listen up!" Optimus said, startling the other Autobots from their thoughts. He made optic contact with each of the mechs, and Prowl once he entered the main room. "Now's not the time to mourn and reminisce, because right now, Bumblebee's out there and he needs our help."

"But what do we do Boss-bot?" Bulkhead asked. Optimus opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, looking suspiciously like a confused fish. He had no answer to that question.

"Face it Prime. We don't know what to do." Ratchet said softly, placing a consoling servo on the Autobot leader's shoulder.

"But we have to do something." Prowl had taken up his spot against the door frame.

"But what?" Ratchet said. "I want to find our little Bee as much as you do, but what can we do? We don't know why the Decepticons took him, where they took him, or what they're doing with him."

"I think I know what we can do." Bulkhead spoke up from his spot on the couch. The Autobots turned to look at the huge mech with wide anxious optics.

"What?"

"We could call the Elite Guard?"

"... If it means getting Bumblebee back safe and sound, I'll do anything."

The bubbly yellow scout had the Autobots wrapped around his pretty little finger.

...