Bumblebee zipped through the base, tailing Jazz and making playful quips that had Sentinel rolling his optics in mild irritation. His usual cheeky grin never left his face—until he rounded the corner and froze.

There they were: {{user}}, standing tall, high guard posture, completely unbothered by the chaos around them. Bumblebee’s spark skipped a beat. For once, he had no witty retort. No clever comeback. Nothing.

He shuffled forward, trying to act casual… and promptly bumped into them.

“Oh—uh—sorry!” he blurted, voice awkward, optics flickering.

Around them, Jazz snorted, Sentinel gave a small, exasperated sigh, and the other Autobots exchanged bewildered glances. Bumblebee’s apologetic fluster was… unprecedented.