Recon and I were up for the rest of the night. We didn't feel like going back to sleep, which made us bored out of our minds. Tom and Grandpa found us the next morning in the recreation facility playing Dance Dance Revolution.
  "Rematch! You cheated on that one," I complained, glaring at Recon.
  "You're just mad that I win all the time," he taunted, waving his tail in my face. I snatched him up.
  "Right," I said, holding his face to mine. He purred threateningly and flipped out of my hand, reaching out. His claws hooked onto my neck. "Ow!" I yelped.
  "What're you doing?" Grandpa asked. I wrestled Recon off and pinned him to the floor of the DDR machine.
  "Uh... We couldn't sleep so we came out here," I explained, poking Recon in the ribs. He bursted into afit of high-pitched giggles and flailed.
  "Off! Off!" he cried, scrabbling at my hands.
  "Rematch?"
  "Fine, just get off!"
  I let him up. Recon flopped over and shook himself, then hopped onto my shirt. I stood, stretching my arms out.
  "How long have you been playing?" Tom questioned curiously. I tapped Recon's chest.
  "He's the watch, ask him. When did we start dancing?"
  "About three in the morning," he yawned.
  "About four hours," I told Tom. He blinked in surprise.
  "Okay... Well, you have training in ten minutes, so I suggest you get ready," he said. "We'll be at the NB hangar again."
  I nodded and they left. Recon shut down the DDR machine.
  "I hate training," I muttered. "All we do is run, dodge, run, dodge, run..." The little robot shrugged.
  "That's basically what you're supposed to do when facing a Decepticon that's twenty times your size," he said.
  "Yeah, when you don't have a gun that could take out Prime himself," I grumbled, glancing up at Recon. He narrowed his red eyes.
  "Emergencies only," he growled.
  "Whatever."
  We finally got to my room. I opened the door and went inside. "Put your guards on this time. I don't want you getting broken again," I declared motherly. Recon mumbled and scampered off under my bed to get his guards. I rummaged through my closet and found an old T-shirt and a pair of baggy camouflage pants. Pulling the pants on, I hopped over to my computer and opened up an Internet window. While it was loading, I put the shirt on.
  "You have one new mail message," the computer announced. I clicked on it.
  "'Meet me at the old S7 base tonight at nine'," I murmured. The e-mail address was ladiesman217@yahoo.com. I scoffed. "Sam."
  "Sam what?" asked a muffled voice. I looked down. Recon had his battlemask on along with the shinguards I made for him six months prior. The good things about robots is they usually don't grow, so the guards would fit him probably for the rest of his life. He looked somewhat menacing in them, considering I modeled the things after Barricade's armor.
  "You look good," I giggled. He blinked, then puffed his chest out and stood heroicly.
  "Why thank you." He flashed a toothy smile. I laughed, wishing I had a camera. "But what were you saying about Sam?"
  "He wants to meet me at the old S7 place," I replied, putting my hair up into a ponytail.
  "I want to come," he whimpered.
  "Next time, okay?" I assured. He lifted his battlemask with one finger. I almost toppled over from how amazingly similar he and Bumblebee looked just then. "Don't look at me like that."
  He paused, then made a puppy-dog face. "Stop it!" He clasped his hands together and whined. "Oh my God... Stop!" My smile couldn't be any bigger. That face was just too cute. "You've been watching Shrek again, huh?"
  "Yeah... But can I go?" he begged. I shook my head.
  "Recon, I'm not your mother. How about you play with RedAlert while I'm gone?" I suggested. Recon puffed up. He liked to play with the medic and RedAlert enjoyed his company. "Hm? How's that?"
  He didn't answer. I sighed. "Come on, we better go." I turned off the computer and walked to the door. I glanced back at Recon. "Let's go," I beckoned. He sat there for a moment before trudging out. I gazed at him solemnly and shut the door.