Jazz looked down at the small youngling, as Inferno peered around the table. They were currently the only two in the rec room, making Bumblebee gravitate towards them. Bumblebee looked at him with wide optics. "What is it 'Bee?"
The cube in Inferno's hands dropped as Jazz smiled. It was a shocked smile, and more of a reflexive action, as his CPU wondered how he was supposed to answer.
"Ummm," Jazz threw a helpless glance at Inferno, as Inferno looked back. Then, Jazz came across an idea he knew he would regret later, but he didn't dare to not answer. "Why not ask Ratchet when you go to see him? He knows."
Bumblebee nodded, and as the youngling turned away, Jazz could of collapsed with relief. Inferno leaned over to whisper, "Do you have your will-chip recorded? As soon as Ratchet finds out you recommended him, he'll send you to Primus for sure."
"I'd prefer not thinking about that." Jazz muttered.
Ratchet finished up his check on Red Alert as Jazz brought Bumblebee in. Red Alert onlined slowly, and was about to stagger out of the room, when Bumblebee asked the question. "What's interfacing?"
Jazz winced, Ratchet's jaw dropped, and Red Alert wondered if his CPU had stopped working. He turned, leaning against the door, as Prowl appeared behind him. Red Alert held up a hand, motioning for silence.
Bumblebee scowled at Ratchet, who simply stared back, floundering for an explanation. Then, in a desperate attempt to make Bumblebee forget the question, Ratchet asked, "Why do you want to know?"
" 'Sides, and 'Sunny, and 'Hid, and Jazz talk about it last night. They were talking how they'd like to do one really good interfacing when they thought I was asleep."
A horrified look crossed Jazz's face, and Prowls hand clenched. "Oh really Jazz?" He asked softly. "You and I are in need of a really long talk." Jazz gulped, as Ratchet hefted a wrench.
"You can have him after. I get first dibs on him. Red Alert, take Bumblebee away for now. First Aid, tell the twins and Ironhide that they either get their afts down here now, or their scrap."
First Aid, who had missed the entire exchanged, did so with a very puzzled air. Red Alert took Bumblebee by the hand, guiding him out. "Bumblebee, that is the sort of question you might want to ask Prime when you're about five vorns older."
Bumblebee scowled up at Red Alert, who ignored it. He was very used to dirty looks.
Prime stared at the youngling, wondering what had gotten into him, or Bumblebee for that matter. Youngling weren't supposed to know about Interfacing, and the illustrious commander of the autobots did not wonder how he could answer.
Bumblebee looked back at him, and Prime said slowly, "It's a way of showing the love to another. Not the only way, no, if love is based only on that, then it will quickly fade and fall apart. But interfacing is a very…unusual way to show it. You can't do it yet Bumblebee, but one day I'll tell you more about it. Until then, put it out of your little CPU."
Bumblebee nodded, and the Ark sighed in relief as Bumblebee seemed to forget about it. Except for Prime, who began wondering how he was going to answer the question that would inevitably come later.