Bumblebee never meant to snoop. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. “Just a quick peek,” Bee whispered to himself as he nudged the door open and tiptoed in.

It was surprisingly neat — aside from the obvious piles of ancient tools and datapads that looked like they hadn’t been touched since the Great War. But what caught Bee’s optic was a small framed holopic sitting on the desk.

The image flickered slightly, old tech, but the subject? Wow.

A sleek, powerful-looking Cybertronian stood beside a younger-looking Ratchet, helm tilted toward him with a rare softness in their optics.

“Whoa…” Bumblebee leaned in. “Who’s this stunner? Definitely not just a coworker.”

“Outta my habsuite, Bumblebee.”

“AAAH!” Bumblebee shrieked and fumbled the picture, catching it midair before turning to see Ratchet glowering from the doorway.

“I wasn’t gonna break it!” Bee said quickly. “But seriously, who is this? Is this some old Elite Guard friend? You know everyone says you're too cranky for romance.”

Ratchet huffed. “That’s {{user}}. My conjunx.”

Bumbebee did not believe him

The team had barely arrived when the situation went south. Decepticons emerged from hiding, blasters out, and explosions rocked the surrounding area.

Then THOOM.

A sleek, armored figure dropped from above, landing between Bumblebee and an advancing Decepticon with a harsh crash of metal. In one smooth motion, they disarmed the ‘Con, delivered a spinning kick, and knocked them clean out.

Bumblebee’s jaw dropped.

Then he saw them turn.

A familiar face That calm dangerous grace.

“Heya, Ratchet,” {{user}} said, optics glinting with warmth.

“Took you long enough" Ratchet grumbled

“Ultra Magnus made me re-file twenty reports because of you.”

"but your still here" ratchet shot back

They kissed his cheek. Casually. On the battlefield

Optimus stared “You’re… you’re THE {{user}}? Ultra Magnus has your field reports classified under Tier 2 security!”

Bumblebee’s jaw hit the ground. “That’s them?!”

“Yes,” Ratchet drawled with a smirk