Chapter Text
The Ground Bridge flickered shut with a thrum, leaving the base in its usual hum of machinery and recycled air. Bumblebee rolled out of the vortex in a clean arc, tires squealing as he transformed mid-motion. His plating clicked into place, and he landed in a crouch with a playful chirp.
“Show-off,” Arcee said, arms crossed as she strode in behind him.
Bee beeped an exaggerated “Who, me?” and tilted his helm, optics flashing with mischief.
“You know that stunt wasn’t necessary.” Ratchet muttered from his console. His hands were already flying across keys, checking the data from their mission. “Transforming mid-roll? You could have damaged a stabilizer joint!”
Bee’s reply came as a series of rapid, staccato beeps, pitched high and innocent. Raf, who had been waiting at the edge of the platform with his laptop balanced on his knees, grinned. “He says he was just proving he’s still the fastest.”
Bulkhead lumbered through next, carrying the last of the recovered energon cubes. “Fastest, sure. Though he didn’t actually win the race back.”
Bee emitted a raspberry-like buzz, crossing his arms in mock offense.
“Don’t argue with me, buddy,” Bulkhead said with a chuckle, setting the energon down with a heavy clunk. “You only pulled ahead ‘cause I slipped on the gravel.”
Arcee smirked. “Excuses, excuses.”
The sound of footsteps echoed from the far hall. Optimus entered the main chamber with his usual calm presence, his optics steady and unreadable. He stopped at the center of the room, gaze sweeping across the team. “Well done. The energon is secured, and no lives were lost. That is what matters.”
Bee straightened, plating shifting with quiet pride.
Raf closed his laptop and jogged over, almost tripping on the edge of the platform in his hurry. Bee extended his arm instinctively, catching the boy before he could stumble. Raf’s cheeks flushed, but he smiled up at the Autobot. “Thanks, Bee.”
A warm, low beep answered him.
Optimus’s gaze softened briefly, watching the two. “Bumblebee, your speed and resourcefulness once again served the mission well. But remember, victory is not measured by competition among comrades.”
Bee made a low chirp that translated roughly to Yes, sir.
Raf glanced between them. “He knows. He just likes proving himself.”
“Don’t encourage him, Raf.” Ratchet said without looking up. “His self-preservation instincts are already questionable.”
Bee let out an indignant brrt! and pointed at himself with both arms as if to say, Me? Unsafe?
Arcee chuckled, folding her arms. “You’ve got to admit, Ratchet, he’s good. If anyone can get away with crazy stunts, it’s Bee.”
Ratchet huffed. “Until the day he can’t.”
The base fell into its familiar rhythm after that: Arcee and Bulkhead cleaning their weapons, Ratchet absorbed in his monitors, Optimus quietly observing. Raf climbed into the driver’s seat inside Bee’s cabin mode, plugging in his laptop to run a diagnostic.
“Your coolant system’s running hot again,” Raf murmured, typing rapidly. “You’ve been pushing harder than usual.”
Bee answered with a soft, guilty beep.
Raf sighed. “You know you don’t have to show off for me, right? You’re already awesome.” He glanced up at the others, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. “Don’t tell them, but you’re my favorite.”
Bee’s optics brightened, and he gave a delighted series of clicks that had Raf laughing. From across the room, Bulkhead called out, “What’s he bragging about now?”
“Nothing!” Raf yelled back, grinning.
Bee tapped the horn twice in quick succession, the Cybertronian equivalent of a wink.
Later that night, when the base quieted, Bee sat near the far wall with Raf perched cross-legged beside his friend. Arcee leaned against a console, keeping a casual eye on them, while Bulkhead and Ratchet argued good-naturedly about field repairs.
Raf asked softly, “Do you ever miss it? Cybertron?”
Bee tilted his helm, optics dimming a little. He let out a low, wavering beep. Raf translated slowly, hesitantly: “All the time.”
Bee’s gaze lingered on the ceiling, where shadows from the monitors played like faint echoes of stars. He emitted a second series of tones, quieter this time.
Raf frowned. “But… you’d still rather be here? With us?”
Bee’s response was immediate, a bright, firm chirp, followed by the gentle motion of his servo nudging Raf’s shoulder.
Raf smiled. “Good. ‘Cause we’d be lost without you.”
Across the room, Arcee caught the exchange and smiled faintly to herself. The warmth of the base: the teasing, the arguments, the quiet moments. It all felt like home. For Bumblebee, these bonds were everything.