Ep. 2 - Wheelin' and Dealin' (Closed, Smokey and 'Bee)

[Deleted]

Week 3, Day 7, after sunset and beyond.

No one lives in a vacuum. No matter how much they'd like to.

Behold, for example, the Autobots at Omega Base. When Agent Fowler calls and he can be heard clear from the communications hub all the way down to the water recycling systems, any Autobot with half a lick of sense finds business elsewhere, as quickly as such business can be managed. And the problem is, for the most part, every Autobot planet-side has done something at one point or another to regally torque Fowler off. He might not have found out about it (yet)... but the exceptions can be counted on one hand. And every savvy Autobot that's slinking away to safety is, of course, also hoping that the next thing they hear won't be a comm. from Optimus, or Ratchet or (Primus help you) Red Alert. Something beginning with "Agent Fowler has informed me of --"

This particular call rolled in on a rainy, miserable afternoon, and Fowler remained irate for the first full nine minutes of it; after that point, his volume went down, but not his irritation. Which was just as well, as not everyone at Omega was fond of horror stories. It would seem the LVPD had complained to someone, who'd complained to someone, who'd begun harassing Fowler as the local 'fancy vehicle presence liaison': heavy metal was vanishing from the Sin City's streets and showing up elsewhere for sale. In pieces.

Harassed long enough without being able to provide a valid defense or, in fact, any information at all, Fowler had defaulted to his usual: shouting irately at the nearest convenient audio. It was just as well that audio could usually help. Agent Fowler was not a bad sort; he was under immense stress, and handled it remarkably well for the most part. The Autobots were hardly ever the cause of his temper; the humans that got embroiled with the Autobots were.

Now, no one, not Fowler, not the senior staff (except maybe Red) really thought that fancy cars getting chop-shopped was the sort of thing you'd catch MECH doing. It was... MECH, for one thing, and humans stealing cars and chopping them up for parts was something akin to a national sport, like demolition derbies and monster truck racing. It did, however, had the potential to bring far too much unwanted attention onto the Autobots, most of whom paraded about with very expensive skins. Nothing like Mirage, whose alt-mode carried a seven-digit price tag, had been lifted yet, but there was no way of knowing if that was just because such a vehicle simply had not been found at the right place, at the wrong time.

Fortunately, it was not the first time the Autobots had engaged in bait-and-wait operations, and the offer to help break the chop shop operation had done wonders to mollify Fowler, who'd provided five addresses, three in Summerlin and two in Queensbridge, quiet and upscale neighborhoods where a muscle car would be admired... but not marked as out of place. Unfortunately, it also meant some very dull times ahead for the volunteers: go forth. Park. Look steal-able and chop-able. Don't fall asleep. Wait to be kidnapped. Secure photos, names and location coordinates. Get out undetected. Deliver info.

Nothin' to it.

(The only difference in spots is Summerlin is above the Parkway, Queensbridge below. All the addresses are in lovely suburban neighborhoods with nice parks and hiking trails nearby, and are very typical of the kind. They are not within sight of each other, but even at its most distant it would take no more than a five-minute flat-out sprint to get to each other - it is a parkway.)

[Bumblebee]

Usually when Fowler called the Omega Base, Bumblebee would get the heck outta dodge with everyone else. Quickly retreating to his quarters, or finding something to do – even chores were more fun than being within earshot of the angry human. 

Not this day, however. Due to the gloomy weather outside, the local TV station was marathoning cartoons for all the kids who couldn't play outside. This also meant Bumblebee, of course! Even Fowler raging couldn't pull Bee from his favorite cartoon. He was doing his best to tune him out, and focus on the TV. Trying being the key word there. It was hard to ignore Fowler when he was mad, and today he seemed really irate. He just kept going, and going... It must've been pretty important for him to call after sundown. 

Bumblebee was always slightly terrified when Fowler called. Mostly because humans had rules. Rules that Bumblebee quite often maybe sorta broke while out on the roads. Speeding. Racing. He'd been lucky to not get caught, but his luck could, and would only go so far.

That fear seemed justified today as he heard his name mentioned multiple times in Fowler's little irate rant. This was it. His luck had run out. He'd been busted for speeding, and Fowler of all people had found out.

He would slink down, trying not to be seen – not that the TV or Bee could be seen from the comm unit but he knew it was only a matter of time before he got called over and yelled at for speeding. He couldn't even focus on his cartoon anymore.

So when nothing happened? When he wasn't yelled at? He was relieved. His luck hadn't run out yet, it seemed!

What did happen though was that he was given an order to sit still in his alt-form and look pretty for a bit. Now that he could do. He was good at that. The 'oohs' and 'aahs' he got sitting outside the school never got old, and this time he could sit at the location for as long as it took to be noticed by the thieves AND then get kidnapped and do what he was really good at – sneakily securing photos and locations, and getting out, all without being busted. This would be easy. This would be fun. 

-

--Dibs on Summerlin!-- he'd chirp once it was time for him to start this fun little mission, not giving anyone time to protest his decision as he'd quickly shift into his alt form with a familiar whir of hydraulics and shifting metal – speeding down the tunnel and out of the Omega Base and into the rainy night. He planned to go to the first address out of the three listed in Summerlin, then if nothing happened after a few hours of sitting still and looking pretty, he'd move to the second and so on. 

It wasn't too long a drive, and he was there within no time at all. He did always love driving at night. The rain was a nice welcome, too. He would pull up to the first address listed... Here he would sit, shut off his lights and wait on the side of the street. The perfect bait on this gloomy night.

...Okay maybe this first part wouldn't be so fun. There was nothing fun about sitting in the dark... In the rain... But hopefully he wouldn't be waiting too long.

[Deleted]

Life under Optimus Prime's command was certainly proving to be nothing like Smokescreen had imagined.

The Autobot had come in after a rather muddy patrol in about two hours and a half or so ago and was mildly amused to receive orders directing him to go back out again. He'd hit the washracks as soon as he'd got back then had retired to his room and fallen into a light recharge. Something about the weather had left him feeling rather lethargic.

Once the explanation was provided ('Agent Fowler' really said it all), Smokescreen bore the interruption with good humour. All he had to do was sit around, keep alert and look, well, look like his awesome self really. Sounded like his kind of mission. A little bit too low on the action for his liking but being sneaky was good too. And Bee was going on it too, which was another positive in Smokescreen's opinion. He was a much better mission partner than some people. Who would forever remain nameless.

Zoom-Zoom.

Neither of the two sites meant anything to him and the choice was taken out of his hands entirely when Bumblebee got his dibs in before Smokescreen could even say a word.

"Guess Queensbridge is mine," and he'd headed off after the yellow Autobot. Smokescreen didn't mind venturing out into the less than pleasant weather or getting wet again, only that getting oneself clean could be difficult sometimes and that he'd much rather avoid needing the washracks twice in one day.

That was a problem for later though. Smokescreen had only two sites to go to so he could afford to spend more time at both of them. To the first address it was, he pulled up on the side of the street, flicked his lights off and was still.

…

Perhaps there were some videos on the internet he could watch while he waited.

[Deleted]

Suburbia showed, better than any other place at all, the ant-like nature of the local sentient species.

As long as the gold-and-orange light of sunset had remained upon its perfect rooftops and perfect gardens, the rain falling further out not daring to show its face among the suburbs, there had been people everywhere: children playing in squalling packs, teenagers strutting up and down the blocks, trying on the feeling of impending adulthood, and so many joggers per square mile than it really seemed as if they were engaged in some sort of neighborhood-wide coreography. But as soon as the light vanished, so did they, thoroughly and almost without exception retiring to safety of their homes. Neither Summerlin nor Queensbridge were The Strip; there were no garish lights, no endless sound of one-armed bandits tinkling through the night. Lady Luck did not walk these streets and certainly did not leave her garish after-party favors on the well-manicured lawns.

Both neighborhoods were safe, quiet, respectable. And supremely, unspeakably dull.

There was no telling what the people at the Summerlin's address had been told, but they had done their best to not acknowledge the really bright yellow bit of muscle parked before their driveway, at least not blatantly. There had been a lot of peeking through the artfully parted curtains of the living room, but otherwise they'd seemed precisely the sort of people that would live in a dark tan, single-story house precisely the same as the dark tan, single-story houses all along the row.

They had been the only ones, though. Three houses down there was a delighted pair of labradoodles that had been 'walked' by every single one of the five family members, past his parking spot and into the park where the road turned a sharp corner and went back into civilization. The youngest boy had, of course, been escorted by his older siblings; he'd been the only one to allow himself to stop, gawk and audibly admire. The adults had been too 'adult' for such behavior, and the two teenagers were far too cool, obviously, to be swayed.

All in all, by jogging, walking the dog, or even just to make the weekly process of taking out the garbage into a twenty-minute event, everyone had gotten a good, and intensely awkward look at the Camaro.

They'd been a lot less discreet with the blatant racing paintjob parked in front of the perfectly dark-tan, two-story (different!) house in Queensbridge. Even the uninitiated masses could tell Smokescreen was not native-made; Detroit muscle ran high off the road, while the Europeans liked their cars to kiss the blacktop with unnerving intimacy. The McLaren sat high... barely. And only in comparison to other European imports.

So a lot of softballs had been bounced off him. Not hard, as no one wanted a screaming parent to come charging out to bellow about possible damages and carelessness and allowances being docked and other such calamities of war. After the fifth time, the pack of mixed tweens had simply gathered around him shamelessly, and wandered off only when they'd been summoned, as if by clockwork, for dinner.

The dog-walking crowd had found plenty of reason to walk their dogs past him as well. Repeatedly. Astounding levels of luck had brought them all to cross paths directly by the McLaren, which of course meant stopping, and chatting, and more very awkward not-staring.

The elderly couple that seemed to live in the house, by comparison, had not even peeked out at Smokescreen. Three cats, however, had kept him watchful company. The neighborhood's consensus seemed to be that he belonged to a particular grandson that had either just graduated or come out of prison, married twice and divorced three times, won big at one of the casinos, or been bought out by the mob. Or started his own internet business. One busy young man.

Dinner and darkness had rolled over the suburbs at last.

If they had wished, both Autobots could have peeked in at the dinner being served, almost simultaneously, in the dining rooms of such houses as they were parked at. There was Chinese take-out for Bumblebee, which was generating a lot of snarling and free-for-all grabbing, and it really looked like you may lose a hand in there if you didn't know what you were doing. Smokescreen had a much more sedate affair that had come entirely from the freezer and the microwave, spiced up with a bottle of wine already halfway to gone, as well as an Alton Brown marathon to watch. His cat bodyguards remained, however, ever faithful.

The last of the joggers and dog-walkers made it home, and the streets were empty and quiet. So far, so good.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee didn't realize quite how boring this was until he'd been sitting here for a short while. Still. Unmoving. Silent. All he could do was sit and watch, and that is what Bee would do. He quickly regretted not bringing something to do. Not that he could do much in his alt form, but even so, sitting around watching the occasional passerby was getting old, fast.

Trying to make the best out of things, Bumblebee decided to turn this into a game to pass the time. Every time someone from the house he was parked outside peeked through their curtains at him? He'd get a point! One.. Twoooo... Threee... Four..

..C'mooon...

Well that was fun while it lasted. For all of an hour or so. It felt like longer. Yes, he was still here. Maybe they were looking at him because he was just that awesome looking. Nothing to do with the fact he was parked outside their house. Nope. He didn't see them as suspicious, just a couple of homeowners checking the amazing car outside their house.

At least it wasn't raining here, which meant people were out and about. People watching was something Bee liked doing when he waited outside the school for Raf, he'd always been fascinated by humans, and watching them go about their day to day lives was nice, plus it gave him something to do!

..Had he seen those dogs before? He had. A few times. The person walking the pair of dogs was different each time, but that was totally the same two dogs. Maybe he should've turned that into a game, too. He'd loved the attention he'd got from the youngest kid, and was sad when he was tugged away by the older siblings. At least someone appreciated Bee around here! Back to being bored...

...Although, it was weird that they took the dogs out a few times, rather than once as a family. That made more sense, right? It certainly perked his interest, maybe they were the people that he was 'waiting' for. He'd sit, and wait. Waiting for them to come back. What felt like forever had passed, and the sun was quickly setting.

The occasional jogger here, someone else walking their dog there.. But those labradoodles and their owners did not return. There went Bee's first 'suspect'.

The sun had finally set and the street was quiet. Bee's attention was drawn to the dining room in the house across from him. He couldn't help but watch as the humans turned dinner into a free-for-all. He imagined this was what dinnertime at Raf's house was like, he knew the little guy had a lot of siblings, so he would continue to watch, amused. He'd make a mental note to tell Raf later what he'd saw, and ask if he had to go through the same squabbles over meals.

So far so good. It was quiet, almost too quiet - but that was partly because Bumblebee was now very bored and very alone.

[Deleted]

Smokescreen was bored.

It had taken him a while to reach this state. He'd been startled by the first softball and was fortunate that his flinch had gone unnoticed by the humans gathered around him. He'd almost squawked in protest before his processor had kicked in and reminded him that the goal was to be incognito. And, yanno, a talking car was no way to keep his head down, so as to speak.

So, curbing his vocalizer it was and Smokescreen had borne the added indignity of having more balls bounced onto him. Jeez, come on, was this how humans treated handsome, unfamiliar vehicles?

How rude.

Fortunately, it didn't last long. However, the softballs got traded out in lieu of the teenagers straight up gathering around him. At first, Smokescreen had been pleased to be the centre of their attention. He briefly entertained the idea of activating his holo and- what? Joined them? Pretend to be the owner of himself and use that to strike up a conversation? Ask them about the disappearing cars? Hmm...maybe later. Besides, what if some of them were part of the car thieving business and he scared them off? For now, he was content to merely watch and wait to see what else the teens would do next.

...which was leave, apparently. Smokescreen was slightly deflated to realise he'd missed the opportunity.

He wasn't left alone for long. The teens were soon replaced by dog walkers. Smokescreen found himself wondering if dogs tell the difference between real humans and a holo. Maybe they could. Did he really want to be the one to blow the mission because of his restless curiosity?

Then he noticed his other company and extended his initial question about dogs over to cats. It seemed unlikely that that they could appreciate the aesthetics of his sweet alt mode, so the fact that he'd attracted three of them indicated that they were aware that he was different from the rest of the cars parked out on the street. Smokescreen finally laid to rest the impulse to activate his holo.

The night had fallen at last and the streets emptied themselves of curious bystanders. Smokescreen's attention drifted briefly over to the house he was directly outside, the curtains were drawn back and he could see the two humans inside were eating a meal. Nothing interesting was happening though so his interested waned and turned back to the empty street.

...it struck him then, that the next few hours were going to be like this. Sitting still. No more humans to watch. Just the night and the ambient sounds that spilled out from the houses.

::Beeeee:; Smokescreen activated his comms. ::I'm bored. How's it going on your end?::

[Jazz]

     To Jazz's relief everything seemed to be silent on the kid's end so for the moment he just listened in, not wanting to disturb them while they were setting themselves up. Jazz was just going over the data they had been given, trying to pick out any signs of something that may have been overlooked. He had been listening to music- not loud enough as to block out any communications that may come through from the kids- but at least so he could hear it. He didn't like the thought of them being out there alone but their coordinates were still saved so he could access the ground bridge if needed---

     'Beeeee, I'm bored. How's it going on your end?'

     Jazz chuckled a bit to himself. At least they were alright out there. Nothing at all to worry about, right? Maybe some people looking at them funny, coming a little too close...

     ... Snatching them away into the night. Yup, nothing at all to worry about.

     "Well, if I wasn't payin' attention before, I definitely am now. I'm guessin' by the lack of heavy artillery fire on your end that there ain't much happenin'."

     Jazz continued to scroll through the information he had infront of him and saving what was needed for later.

     "Make sure to keep an eye out, you two. We don't know who's responsible for this fiasco yet so ya gotta be on your guards, got it?" Jazz finished logging some things then moved on to the next set of information. "Not that you need me to save your bumpers if ya get into some kind of mess or nothin', but if you should need the meager assistance I can provide, don't hesitate to chime me in, yeah?"

     Everyone needed their time to shine and Jazz's moment had come and gone. While he radioed as much confidence in their abilities as he could, it didn't stop him from still worrying. They were, after all.. kids... and sometimes kids got in a little over their heads when they had a chance to do something without older mechs around. He only hoped they didn't go off and do anything stupid should something actually happen. Really, Jazz would have hated to sit out there like they did, but it would have been better than something go on that was way over any of their heads.

     "Sorry, kiddos. I get it that this ain't the most excitin' part of the job. So, how about you give me what ya'll have observed so far, then I'll let ya make some music requests to play over the comm?"

[Bumblebee]

This was boring as slag. The humans who had been fighting over the Chinese food had long since stopped, and were now eating calmly and civilized. There went that meager entertainment. Bee could be back at base drawing pictures for Raf. He could be practicing his boxing. He could be cleaning. At this point cleaning sounded amazing. But alas, he was stuck here until who even knows when. 

Smokescreens voice rang out over the comm, which quickly drew Bee's attention away from zoning out and staring at nothing. He was about to reply when another voice was heard. Jazz. He.. Wasn't aware that Jazz was in on this little plot too, then again it made sense – they needed someone back at base to watch what was going on, just incase things got really bad.

::Meeee too, Smokescreen. Me too.:: It sounded like he was stifling a yawn, as if to emphasize the point he was dying of boredom over here.

Jazz telling them to keep an eye out got Bee's attention, and instead of zoning out he would start looking around once more. Not that there was much to look at to begin with, but Jazz had a point. They did have to be on their guard. It was so hard sitting still in the dark, though.

::Ya got nothing to worry about over here Jazz, aint much going on at all. Infact, aint much happening is an understatement.:: he hummed briefly in thought. What had he even seen that was worth relaying? ::I saw the same dogs like five times, walked by different people each time? I aint sure if that's some weird human thing though, or a dog thing.:: Maybe he'd have to ask Carbine about correct dog-walking protocols. ::Few people walking. Few people jogging. Watched a family pretty much maul each other over food which was hilarious but eeehh...:: He trailed off.

::I take it from the fact ya bored, there isn't much going on over where you're at, Smokescreen?:: Maybe the other Mech had seen more exciting things than Bee, at least.

[Deleted]

The voice that came over the comms in response wasn't the one Smokescreen was expecting. Jazz, he identified mentally. His interest peaked at that, he hadn't really had a chance to interact with the other mech much since his arrival, either schedules got in the way or something else would come up. But Smokescreen had heard around that Jazz had been in the Elite Guard from way back and the younger Autobot was curious about the Guard had been like in its heyday, before he'd gotten there.

Still, this wasn't the time or place for his curiosity. There was an impatient part of Smokescreen that was rolling his optics at the reminder to keep paying attention and stay on his guard. Yes, he was already doing that. He was aware of his surroundings, painfully so because of the lack of anything even remotely interesting.

He snorted to himself and silently agreed with Bee. Nothing much really was an understatement. Heck, he was wishing that something was happening.

::Yeah, I saw the same thing with the dog walking. Same dog, different people, over and over again. Maybe it's both a weird human-dog thing,:: he offered to Bee. ::I don't know. Also, cats. Three of them have just been sitting right by me this whole time. Just sitting and not doing much else::

::A bunch of kids decided to bounce their softballs of me:: Smokescreen complained. His tone lacked any real heat to it though, he was more complaining for the sake of complaining not because he'd been hurt or damaged. ::It took them forever to leave. And, hmm, I saw a pair eating a meal but it wasn't anything like what yours sounded like. Very quiet, very peaceful.::

::So basically, a whole lot of nothing.::

[Jazz]

     :: Yeah, the whole lotta nothin' tends to be the name of this game that gets played more often than not when you're on patrol. ::

     Jazz kind of felt sorry for the two. He'd been on missions like this where it was just hours and days of camping out and monitoring situations. He'd been there, he knew the impatience that was felt when you were young and anxious for some action.

     :: Next time someone wants to bounce somethin' off ya'll, you should sound an alarm. Just a quick one, to scare'em. :: Not like that was a good idea, but Jazz had other things he was thinking over.

     The dog walking thing seemed a little suspicious to him. Now, he didn't know anything about owning human pets, but for the time that Bee and Smokey had been sitting out there to see it that often? Didn't really seem to be normal behavior. Not for THAT often at least.

     :: Be careful with that walkin' thing. Could be somethin'. Back when me and my partner would be on patrol alone we'd run into baiting similar to that in the neutral zones. Cons would send in one operative, scout the area for a bit and then they'd leave and come back with a partner or two behind 'em. They wouldn't do anythin' right away, just perch themselves somewhere pretendin' to be doing somethin' other than watchin' us. They'd check out whether or not there was more than just us there by tryin' to see if we'd give any gestures to unmarked Guard. Lotta times it didn't come to anythin' more that them tryin' to push their weight around against two 'Bots, but sometimes it'd be them settin' us up for an ambush. I dunno. I haven't mastered the knowledge of all human behavior yet so it may be nothin', but try to watch that anyway. ::

     Jazz turned on his music though he kept it low so that he could hear the kids if they tried to say something to him. He muted his end as not to distracted them by the sound, figuring that since they didn't put in any music requests that they were fine without it. Propping himself back on the crate he had found just off to the side of the monitors, he crossed one leg and tapped the pede of the other against the floor to the beat he was listening to while scanning through the datapad in his servo.

[Bumblebee]

Bumblebee yawned audibly over the comm, wiggling his wheels just slightly to the left, and to the right to stretch a little. Being in alt-form was good and all, but when you were just parked still and doing nothing? It was boring and somewhat uncomfortable, especially for long periods of time.

::Whoooole lotta nothin' is an understatement. There is nothing going on. At all.:: He droned. He didn't mind sitting around doing the mission, but he wished he had the foresight to bring something to do along with him. The solo eye-spy game had ended due to it getting dark and the humans retreating indoors, and now it was still and quiet.

::Jazz, man, that's a terrible idea. I love it though. Ya should totally do that, Smokescreen. I know I will if anyone comes by... In the middle of the night... To bounce stuff off me.:: Ugh. The chance of that happening was slim to none.

His attention was watching movement from behind curtains inside peoples houses, occasionally he'd get a glimpse of someone walking from room to room in a house, a light switching on, then off. People watching was fun... When you could actually see people.

::Noted on the dog walkin' thing. It's weird that I saw 'em and then Smokescreen saw people doin' the same thing. Maybe it's linked. Aint seen 'em since though so who even knows.:: He sounded bored as all hell.

Part of him wished that someone would just try to steal him already, just for something to do.

::We could totes play a game or something if ya wanted, Smokescreen. Dunno what though. Could play that human game, eye-spy, although that wont be entertainin' at all. I spy with my lil eye.. Something beginning with.. B... Borrrreeeed.. Yeah.. Ughh. How long we even been out here anyway? Feels like fooooorever.::

He yawned again. It hadn't even been that long, sadly; he was just impatient and not used to sitting still.

[Deleted]

:: Next time someone wants to bounce somethin' off ya'll, you should sound an alarm. Just a quick one, to scare'em. ::

It hadn't occurred to Smokescreen that scaring off the kids had been an option. And there had been the bit of him that had preened and enjoyed being under the attention once the kids had set away their softballs. He couldn't have had that if he'd frightened them off.

Still…

::I'll keep it in mind Jazz:: he responded wryly. The idea didn't sound all that terrible, not the way Bee was making it out to be.

::Noted on the dog walkin' thing. It's weird that I saw 'em and then Smokescreen saw people doin' the same thing. Maybe it's linked. Aint seen 'em since though so who even knows.::

::I don't know anymore than you do:: one could hear the shrug in Smokescreen's voice. He did listen to Jazz's story about Decepticon scouts with interest.

::I had no idea Cons did that:: he said. ::Make me kinda wish we were looking for them, at least we'd have a better idea of what to look for. Instead we're trying to decipher if there's any special meaning to dog walking.::

Smokescreen settled lower on his wheels. It was boring out here, no doubt about that. But hey, at least he was being kept company by a trio of cats.

Hmm…

An impulse struck him then.

It was really, really tempting to give his holo a spin and try to pat the cats, something to break up the tedium. Maybe...maybe if nothing happened in the next few minutes….

::We could totes play a game or something if ya wanted, Smokescreen. Dunno what though. Could play that human game, eye-spy, although that wont be entertainin' at all. I spy with my lil eye.. Something beginning with.. B... Borrrreeeed.. Yeah.. Ughh. How long we even been out here anyway? Feels like fooooorever.:: 

::…hmmm?:: he had missed half of what Bee said. ::I haven't heard of Eye-Spy, how does it work?::

[Jazz]

     The kids were doing their own thing, playing whatever game it was they were into. Jazz didn't know what it was either so he'd half listen in on what Bee had to say just to keep up with what they were up to. Jazz briefly looked around where he sat, trying to find something to do without having to venture out of the room. He was on lookout duty from his end so that meant he couldn't leave the console in case they radioed in that there was some problem. He vented softly, mainly to himself and soft enough so that it wasn't loud enough to bother Bee or Smokey. It was his turn to be bored.

     Not that this wasn't part of the job, since he'd had to sit through more than his fair share of sit downs, watches, patrols- well, patrols weren't so bad since you were actually moving and able to see different things. Watches you were stuck pretty much doing the same thing he was doing now; staring at a computer screen and waiting for the action to start. Not that he thought there would be much more action happening than what the kids had already reported in. Jazz was almost half tempted to just jump into the groundbridge and go where they were just do do a drive by check on them. Sure enough being parked in a single location staring at humans walking their pets was beyond the bore of the night.

     Nope. He had to stay here. Stay here. Stay put. Not move.

     'Holy Primus, this is dull. I hope the team has more excitement than this,' he thought to himself. "Well, guess no excitement is better than runnin' for your life from Decepticons." That part was said aloud, again, to himself.

     :: Ya kids ain't killin' yourselves out there, are ya? ::

[Deleted]

Tedious.

Boring.

Uneventful.

That was how the night had been going so far. But hey, no news was good news, right? Sure, maybe they had wasted their whole day waiting around for no reason, and sure, maybe they were no closer to finding the chop-shoppers than they were when they first started, but at least - uh. Hm. Well, there really wasn't much of a bright side to the situation at all, was there?

Except, perhaps, the snowball's chance that their luck might turn around. Sometime. Maybe.

For the time being, the two could do little more than sit and wait. And wait. And wait some more. While they talked back and forth, killing time, the world around them remained relatively unchanged. It was darker now, too late for most joggers and dog-walkers to be out and about, but in their place the local wildlife came alive. Birds began to settle in their nests, squirrels and rabbits began scurrying about from tree to tree and hedge to hedge, darting over lawns and across fences.

They all seemed completely uninterested in both humans and cars...save for one particularly fluffy looking critter, which approached Bumblebee with curiosity. It toddled over towards him carefully, pausing to sniff the air and look around itself for any signs of danger before moving forward once more. Unless he was particularly well versed in Earth wildlife, Bumblebee likely wouldn't recognize the creature for what it was,, but even if he was, it could easily be mistaken for a fluffy kitty cat at a distance.

The "kitty" slinked up next to Bumblebee, one paw pressing against his tire as it lifted itself up enough to give his wheel-well a curious sniff. Then, once it learned whatever it is it wanted to know, it dropped back down on all fours and padded beneath Bumblebee's undercarriage, where it continued its curious little investigation.


Fortunately for Smokescreen, Bumblebee was not the only one who had company. In the distance, if he listened closely, he would be able to hear voices. Then, if he watched the road, he would be able to make out the silhouettes of a small but rowdy group of twenty-somethings. Some of them had drinks in their hands, others bummed sips from their friends' cups. They chattered loudly among themselves, laughing and roughhousing like mildly buzzed young adults are wont to do.

Their attention was quickly captured by Smokescreen, and one member of the group broke away at a jog, whooping and whistling appreciatively.

"Holy shit, guys, look at this!" The young man called, as he saddled right up next to Smokescreen and ran a hand over his hood just to admire his finish. "Oh man, this is exactly the kind of car I want."

Grinning, he turned to look at the rest of his group, which had finally caught up to him. The others began to circle around Smokescreen, admiring what was admittedly a very nice, very expensive-looking car.

"Like you could ever afford it, Trevor." 

The young man--Trevor, it seemed his name was--put both of his hands over his heart, as if mortally wounded.

"You're killing my dreams, Nicky. Killing 'em."

"Who says he's gotta buy it?" Asked a third, as she leaned over and peered inside the driver's side window. "He could always hotwire it and take it down to Mexico, spend the rest of his life down there and become a mariachi or something."

A ripple of laughter traveled through the group, then abruptly, Trevor slapped his hands down on top of Smokescreen's hood and hoisted himself up on top of it. He spun himself around, then laid flat on his side and propped his head up in his hand, while his other hand rested on his hip.

"Quick, someone paint me like one of your french girls."

More laughter ensued, followed by someone taking out their phone to take a picture, as they were asked.

[Bumblebee]

::Nah we aint killin' ourselves out here. Unless dyin' from boredom counts!:: Bee chirped back over the comm to Jazz, laughing. ::Just kidding. I know this has gotta be done. Still, wish there was more going on.::

Another subtle wiggle of his tires. Sitting around doing nothing was awful. It was up there on Bee's list of least favorite things to do. Then again he knew missions like this often took a while, and it was his own fault for not having the foresight to bring something to do. Not that he could do much in his alt-mode, but ugh.

::Eye-spy? Oh man! Say I was looking at a tree, I'd say 'I spy with my little eye, something beginning with T!' Then ya go through a whole bunch of words that start with T. Like uh. Tree! And... Tyrannosaurus Rex! And... Oh hey, what is...::

His sentence trailed off and he went quiet as the... What even was that...? It looked like a cat, but wasn't.. Moved over to him. He held completely still as whatever it was strolled closer to Bumblebee and put a paw against his tire.

::I made a friieeeend!:: He sounded excited as the thing crawled beneath his undercarriage, beeping happily over the comm before they got worried about him going quiet there for a second.

Maybe he could keep this thing. Whatever it was. It hadn't worked out with Onion, but maybe this thing would be okay since it was sorta different. He'd seen these things before, at least he thought he had. Trashpandas or something. No that wasn't right... Uuh.. Raccoon? Yeah! 

::..I think it's a raccoon? Aint sure! Whatever it is, it's damn cute! Anyways!! I spy with my little eye, something beginning with... T! And it isn't a tree!!::

He was going to make this entertaining, damnit. He hadn't even finished explaining the rules of the game, but it didn't take a genius to work out how to play it. Smokescreen could work it out!!