Author's Notes: Welcome to the world of Transformers and humans. These are drabbles. Drabbles are "an extremely short work of fiction exactly one hundred words in length, although the term is often incorrectly used to indicate a short story of fewer than 1,000 words." These "drabbles" will be exactly one hundred words. Think of it as your smile for today. This fic is rated T. Meaning suitable for teens, 13 years and older. Chapter 1 – Ironhide.

Drabble 1

"We can do this the easy way," Ironhide began, rolling his arm cannons while aiming directly at Soundwave's cassette drones. "Seeing I caught ya sneaking in."

"Surrender right now?" Rumble guessed, glancing over at Ravage. Neither Decepticon wanted to face Megatron with a mission failure but he wasn't there. The black hulking weapon specialist was. And an Autobot brig meant medical treatment and energon.

"You can. Or the really easy way," Ironhide smirked.

"Which is?"

"You move and I blow you away. No reports to fill out," Ironhide explained. Later he complained to Prime that they always surrendered. Why him?

Drabble 2

"It's Bumblebee," Arcee confessed. "His new weapon modifications. War cannons. I miss the fun, carefree youngling he was. Silly and playing with toys, being carried."

"All beings mature with time," Optimus comforted.

"Not Sideswipe or Sunstreaker. Or at least their pranks."

"What happened now?"

"They snuck bright blue paint into the wash racks then welded attachments onto Ironhide while recharging. Made him look like a familiar, though giant sized, remote controlled toy transformer," she explained.

"That explains Wheelie's request earlier to borrow my ion rifle," Optimus chuckled.

"Copying is the sincerest form of flattery," she giggled, sharing the photo image.

Drabble 3

"You both could have been off lined," Optimus counseled.

"Mission profile said parts delivery not Starscream and his trine collecting," Ironhide challenged, armor bent, charred and hanging as he reclined on the medical bunk. "Offline I would have a peaceful rest."

::Not me:: Bumblebee sent, flashes of worry and fear mingled in his comm.

"Evil goes to the pit, not the Well of Sparks," Optimus reminded. "You would be safe."

::Hah! Arcee would hunt me down for getting offlined! What if she finds out about this? :: Bumblebee.

"I just did," Arcee's voice stated from behind them.

::Oh pit:: Bumblebee

** updated and revised 09.14.16