A few weeks after the barn incident...

On the Lennox farm all was quiet. Will was gone for his Drill Week and ordered Ironhide to stay and watch over the girls in lieu of driving him to the base. At first the guardian's natural reaction was to protest but the soldier's insistence convinced him it was the wiser course of action. So for the first few days Will was absent, Ironhide guarded the house with even more intensity than he usually did. He paced the farmyard like a caged beast, becoming instantly alert if the slightest thing seemed amiss.

In the late summer sun, Ironhide's inner cooling systems were working double-time against the oppressive heat.

Why in the name of Primus had he chosen a black paint job? It caught heat like a Cybertronian solar panel!

He passed the garage for the twentieth time that afternoon, stealing a downward glance at his two charges in the front yard. Sara was watering her flowers, donning a large sunhat and shades. Nearby, Annabelle was stomping the grass to make the grasshoppers fly. When the bugs leaped with crackling wings, Sprinkles was right there to snag them out of the air. Annabelle giggled as the cat performed remarkable feats of aerial skill and then grossed out when the predator devoured her crunchy prizes.

The big Autobot turned and marched the other way until Sara's terse voice made him stop. "Ironhide, will you relax? You're making a trench in the driveway with that incessant pacing!"

He grumbled suddenly scanning a jet that was flying high in the clouds. Boeing 747—just a normal human jet.

Sara pointed across the dirt road to his favorite oak tree, "Why don't you go sit in the shade? You look like you're baking in your metal."

"I am fine." he insisted.

The woman ceased spraying her flowers, put a hand on her hip, and peered up at him from under the brim of her sunhat, "All right. Let me put it this way: You need to relax because you are driving me nuts!"

Stung, Ironhide squared his shoulders, "Oh REALLY?"

"Yes really. Go sit in the shade and relax!" she ordered firmly.

Out of habit, Ironhide rolled his left cannon but turned to do as she asked.

"Wait!" Annabelle called to him, running through the gate, "I wanna go too!"

The big black bot stopped and reached down to pick her up, but she dodged his hand and before he knew it she climbed on his foot and sat down.

"Go! Go!" the little girl commanded, bouncing on her bottom.

Ironhide cocked his head, "You want me to walk with you on my foot?"

She nodded, "Yeah! Go! Go!"

"That might not be safe Annabelle." he mentioned. Unlike some of his Autobot counterparts like Ratchet, Ironhide's feet were more open and splayed, rather than boot-like. This design exposed some of his weight bearing hydraulics and joints which were very dangerous for small limbs to be around.

"PLEASE!" she begged.

He thought a moment then knelt down, "Very well. But you'll have to sit here." Gently, he placed the child on a section of plating where she wouldn't be pinched or crushed by any of his intricate moving parts. Just to be extra careful he shifted some plating to cover up those areas.

"Now just hold onto this bar right here with both hands and don't move." he commanded, slowing rising. "Are you hanging on tight?"

"Yes."

"Ready?"

"Yes!" she cried.

Gingerly he took a step and Annabelle squealed with delight, clenching his metal tightly.

"WHEEE!"

The weapons specialist made sure to tread very carefully and kept his optics riveted on his rider with each step. He found it amazing how his great size leant itself more towards Annabelle's entertainment than her protection. Though the notion of being a 'play-thing' wedged in his gears, Ironhide knew it was part of his unwritten codes of guardianship. Soon he made it to the tree and stopped. The shade there felt nice on his hot armor.

"All right, youngling. Ride's over." he announced.

"Aww, I wanna ride some more." the little blonde pouted.

Ironhide smirked, "Perhaps later."

Turning around, Annabelle slid off his foot and scampered off behind the tree. The big mech knelt down and then sat, extending his legs out. His hydraulics hissed and his metal groaned. He then leaned to the left, trying to peer around the trunk at Annabelle.

"Are you hiding from me?" he inquired.

She peeked out and laughed. Quite suddenly she ran over to Ironhide's hand and kicked his pinkie. Of course, Ironhide barely felt it but he was slightly confused.

"Hey!" Ironhide lifted his hand, "What was that for?"

The ornery three-year-old sniggered and ran behind the tree again, "Can't catch me!"

Ironhide raised an eye plate with an atypical smirk; they'd played this game before. Annabelle's laughter and lighthearted nature soothed the previous tension in the mech's spark. There weren't many things that could do that for the resolute war veteran. He decided, since no one was really watching, he'd play her game.

"Ah. So you challenge my child catching abilities? Very well. I accept your challenge." he announced strongly.

He leaned closer to the tree, snaking his hand around to catch the little mischief maker. Annabelle shrieked upon seeing the huge hand coming after her and skittered under his legs. Ironhide shifted just a smidgeon, trying to locate her. She was tiny enough she could hide under the smallest piece of hardware. He rolled his leg out to his right and there she was. Again, she laughed and ran around his hip, right behind his back. Somehow, she'd discovered that his broad shoulders and torso made turning around while seated a difficult feat for the big Autobot. He turned as far as he could, his servos whining. Annabelle suddenly made a break for the house laughing and screaming.

Ironhide growled teasingly, "Oh no you don't!"

In one movement he rolled onto his side, reached out, and plucked her up with two fingers.

The little girl squealed in mock terror, beating his fingers with the flats of her palms, "No! Put me down!"

"What do you say?" the mech prompted.

She kicked her legs, "Sorry?"

Ironhide shook his horned head with a smirk, "No. Not sorry."

"Please?" she guessed.

Again he shook his head, "No. What do you say to ole Ironhide?"

She seemed to think for a moment and then smiled with remembrance, "Ironhide is the greatest!"

"And?" he encouraged.

Her eyes roamed upward, trying to remember the rest, "And...Ironhide is the bravest and...best-looking Autobot."

Ironhide actually smiled broadly, "That's right and don't you forget it."

Gently he put the child on the ground and touched her stomach. She tittered gleefully and grabbed his finger with both arms.

"I've got you!" she shouted.

The mech barked a quick laugh at the notion but decided to play along by feigning defeat, "Oh no!"

Dramatically he fell back on the grass, making the ground shake. Annabelle laughed, holding his finger even more tightly as his whole hand went limp. The black mountain of metal didn't move and Annabelle's smile slowly faded.

"Ironhide?" she shook his finger.

No sound. No movement. Curious, Annabelle let go of the metal digit and climbed up into his palm. "Ironhide?"

Without much warning, Ironhide's fingers sprang to life, gently closing around her midsection. She let loose a shriek of surprise.

The black mech rose triumphantly, bringing her closer to his face, "Gotcha."

Annabelle wriggled for all she was worth but to no avail.

"Do you surrender?" he inquired.

"No! You cheat!" she accused, hitting his fingers.

"I do not cheat...I improvise." Ironhide argued.

Very tenderly he sat her down on the highest point of his chest between the two halves of the truck grill. He laid back on the grass, resting his arms next to his body.

Annabelle beamed down at his face, "I win?"

The weapons specialist smirked, "Yeah sure. Why not?"

"Yay! I win! I win!" she cheered, clapping her hands.

Ironhide relaxed in the shade, staring up at the blue Earth sky so drastically different from Cybertron. He suddenly wondered if any of the other Autobots scattered throughout the galaxy had heard Prime's message and were going to come to Earth—that is, if there were any Autobots left to hear it. Not wanting to think about such things his attention returned to Annabelle who was climbing over onto his right shoulder. Using the slick angled surface of the "hood" she slid down onto one on the plated supports of Ironhide's neck, putting herself next to his cheek.

He blinked his optics, "What are you doing?"

The little girl didn't answer; she was too busy studying her guardian's construction up close and personal. She inquisitively touched one of the Cybertronian symbols engraved into the rotating servo on the side of his head. Ironhide held perfectly still, a bit baffled at her actions. She leaned against his metal cheek and stood up on her tip-toes so she could look into his right eye. The child stared unabashedly at the scar that marred it. She reached over and ran a hand through the corroded channel, making the mech's optic flinch.

"What wrong with your eye?" she asked.

Ironhide didn't quite understand what she was getting at, "Nothing Annabelle. My optic is fine."

She didn't seem convinced, frowning at the irregular roughness of the damaged metal. "What this?"

"Well...it's a scar Annabelle." he explained.

"Ouchie?"

The mech lightly shook his head, "No. No. Not anymore. It is a very old scar." He smirked, remembering Annabelle's 'tin foil Band-Aids', "It won't need any Band-Aids."

"Where it come from?"

Ironhide sighed deeply, "Oh, in a battle long, long ago when I was a much younger soldier."

He decided to leave the explanation simple and not go into the violent details of the story itself. After all, Annabelle was just a child; he'd probably tell her when she was older. Eventually, Ironhide picked her up again and replaced her on his chest.

She kicked her feet lazily and then asked, "Ironhide, what a Decep-er-con?"

Though she'd fumbled the name Ironhide knew instantly what she'd said. His optics widened, shining a little brighter, "Where did you hear that word?"

"Mommy. She scared the Decep-er-cons might come." the little girl explained matter-of-factly. "What a Decep-er-con?"

Ironhide cleared his vents. He supposed she should at least be told about the Decepticons so she'd know what to do IF she happened to see one—though Ironhide swore she never would as long as he was there.

"Well," he began, trying to phrase it so the child could understand; "...Decepticons are the enemies of Autobots like me and humans like you."

"They bad?" Annabelle guessed.

Ironhide nodded with certainty, "Yes, very bad."

She leaned forward, her attention riveted, "What they look like?"

The weapons specialist thought a moment, "They look...well...they are metal like me. Some are small like you but most are big"

"Bigger than you?"

He nodded, "Some are, yes."

Annabelle threw her hands up over her head, "Bigger than Optimus?"

Again he nodded, "Yes. Some are even bigger than Optimus."

"Wow! What color are they?"

Ironhide shrugged lightly, "All colors I suppose. They have red optics—err—eyes."

She shivered visibly, "Scary. Like monsters?"

"That's a good way of putting it, yes. They are monsters." Ironhide agreed bitterly.

All at once the little girl huddled closer to Ironhide's chassis, holding her arms close to her body, "Are there Decep-er-cons here?"

He knew she was getting scared so he took her in his hand and sat up, stroking the girl's back with the smooth side of his thumb, "Now listen to me Annabelle. I don't want you to be scared. I promise I will protect you from the Decepticons."

She laid her cheek against his metal, "Promise?"

"Yes. But you must promise me something." he stated.

"What?"

He stared at her seriously, "If you see a Decepticon, if you see those red eyes, I want you to run away as fast as you can and hide. Can you do that for ole Ironhide?"

She nodded earnestly, "K."

"Good. Good." Ironhide sighed. He certainly hoped she wouldn't have to see one of those slagging fiends and he would do his damndest to make sure she didn't have to.

...

Less than a week later, quite far from the Lennox farm...

It took Soundwave almost two weeks to arrive on Earth since Starscream's transmission to Barricade—or at least that's how long it took him to finally decide to contact the lone Decepticon. Barricade warily followed Soundwave's signal into a densely forested area in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Once he was off the main roads, Barricade found his vehicle mode too inefficient to traverse the terrain and reverted to his bipedal mode. There were no humans in the remoteness which was a welcome relief since he could be in his natural form without making a scene. Though Barricade wasn't so sure he liked all the organic material around him. It made him feel out of place and uneasy as opposed to the cityscapes. Disgustedly he swiped his claws out in front of him to keep the tree branches out of his face.

Soundwave's signal was very close now so he called out in Cybertronian, "Soundwave? Are you here or what?"

"Here." the chilling monotone voice responded curtly off to his right.

Barricade straightened his high set shoulders and looked through the trees toward the voice. He could see the muted grey-blue plating with the black hands and dark metal highlights standing out amongst the vegetation. Barricade's red eyes wandered up the towering frame noting the prominent grated chest piece. He'd never personally met Soundwave but he knew exactly what that grate concealed. Soundwave kept quite a collection of small drones in his chest compartment, more than any other Decepticon. They were of the same class as Frenzy and though tiny could perform very specialized tasks. Barricade wondered if Soundwave's drones were as annoying as Frenzy had been to him.

Mounted atop Soundwave's right shoulder was a large, cylindrical, cannon-like device. Rumor had it that it was some kind of main-frame altering device or sound concussion cannon. He wasn't quite sure since he'd never seen it put into action. Course, if they ended up taking on the legendary Ironhide he hoped that weapon was something remarkable.

Barricade forced himself to look at Soundwave's face. The mech had absolutely no expression with his chrome face-plate and glinting red-orange visor that hid his features. Not many Decepticons could make Barricade uncomfortable but not being able to see Soundwave's face unnerved him. There was no telling if Soundwave was happy, angered, or scheming something. Slag, he wasn't even sure if this mech could feel anything. Perhaps that's why he had been so trusted by Megatron. Unlike Starscream, who brazenly expressed himself, Soundwave had followed Megatron's orders and didn't appear to show any weakness or signs of deviousness toward his leader. But...Barricade reminded himself not to be fooled. Though his stolid visage belied it, Soundwave was a master at the art of blackmail and wielded it to his advantage. He might not say much, but he heard everything.

"So there you are." Barricade muttered.

Soundwave moved forward through the trees until he was standing in front of Barricade. Given, Barricade wasn't a large Decepticon, but Soundwave made him feel small. He wasn't as big as Optimus Prime but he wasn't too far behind in terms of height.

A band of light passed across Soundwave's visor as he appeared to stare at Barricade. "Barricade. Code number: 879-88. Function: Decepticon Scout/Hunter Class. Teamed with drone Frenzy: Hacker/Spy Class."

The police car Decepticon blinked his red optics at Soundwave's identifications of him and his partner, "Yeah...Frenzy no longer functions so it's just me."

Soundwave turned his head seeming to scan the area a moment.

Barricade eyed him suspiciously and then asked, "So...what are Starscream's orders?"

"Mission: Gather information on Autobot weapons specialist Ironhide. Do not engage. Do not be discovered. Report findings to Starscream." Soundwave's voice hummed.

He eyed the master infiltrator, "What do you think of Starscream's plan?"

Soundwave didn't answer ignoring the question.

The black and white Decepticon hissed. Soundwave wasn't exactly a renowned conversationalist. If he wanted to be silent then two could play that game.

After several minutes of silence Soundwave returned his blank gaze back to Barricade, "Report all knowledge of objective."

The scout only regarded him with a brief look but didn't answer.

All of a sudden, Soundwave reached out and grabbed Barricade by the side of his spiked head. Barricade tried to slash his hand away but his whole body went stiff and immobile. His crimson optics darted with near panic as several snake-like wires slid out of Soundwave's fingertips and firmly latched onto various points on his metal skull. Barricade snarled as a low vibration seemed to shake every node in his mainframe. Images of his missions on Earth flashed across his optics until after a few moments the wire receptors released from his head and Soundwave stepped back. Barricade fell to one knee as his body reset itself from the brief paralysis.

Once his body was responsive again, Barricade snarled viciously, unleashing the whirling blades hidden in his arms, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"

"Mind probe. All knowledge of objective acquired to begin mission." Soundwave stated calmly.

Barricade was practically livid, "You PROBED my mind? YOU CONIVING SON OF A GLITCH!"

Ignoring the hunter's outrage, Soundwave's chest grate slid open, "Laserbeak eject."

In an instant a small rectangular black object flew out of the opening. It looked like a server box the humans used to connect their internet to computers around the world. Automatically the box unfolded a pair of curved red and black plane wings forming an unusual small triangular flying vessel. Then a small bird-like head ejected and the flying drone circled its master before landing respectfully on his awaiting arm.

"Laserbeak locate primary target. Operation: Surveillance." Soundwave commanded, pointed toward the sky.

The bird-like drone trilled mechanically and flew off with a high pitched whine of engines. Barricade watched it go and gradually retracted his blades. He wasn't about to fight Soundwave. If that slagger could read his mind, Primus knew what else he might do if provoked. He could've scrambled his circuits and left him to rust! Soundwave might've been his partner but he was just as dangerous as an enemy.