by Margaret C. Racine/MCat

(This story was written for the MirrorVerse Songfic Contest.  Music and lyrics, "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" ã Nancy Sinatra. Used without permission.)

I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Prowl's desk was an island of light in a sea of darkness. He worked in silence, tapping in his nightly reports on a data pad. Occasionally he would frown or purse his lips thoughtfully at some bit of information. Eventually, without looking up, he spoke.

"I know you're there."

There was no reply. Continuing with his work, he went on, "Or did you plan to stand in that corner all night?"

A slender femme stepped out of the shadows. The harsh glare of the overhead light threw blinding highlights across her silver-white plating, bleaching her deep green trim to a sickly, washed-out hue. Her pale blue eyes were shadowed in deep pits beneath the brim of her rounded helmet, and her delicate features were set in an expressionless mask.

Prowl continued to work for several seconds, then briefly glanced up. "And what brings you here?"

Slowly, she raised the pistol that she held at her side. Her expression didn't change as she clasped it both hands and pointed it straight at him.

"I'm here to kill you."

Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
Remember when we used to play

Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.

Prowl gave his would-be murderer a cool, appraising look over the top of the pad. "So. Have the Decepticons gotten bolder, or just more stupid?"

Her optics narrowed. "I'm not with the Decepticons."

"A private assassination, then? Hmm." He set the pad down and leaned back, stroking his chin in thought. "Magnus? No, he's not ready to move against Prime so boldly. Not yet, anyway." He smirked. "And you certainly weren't sent by Prime himself. If he wanted me dead, there'd be much more property damage involved..."

"I wasn't sent by anyone!" she snapped, her composure rattled by his obvious lack of concern. She glared at him. "You really don't remember me, do you?"

He shook his head politely. "I'm afraid not."

"Think back. The Delta-five communications outpost? You came to inspect it...you and some of your underlings. Remember the last night you spent there?" He continued to meet her stare with a blandly courteous look, infuriating her even more. "The night you destroyed my life?"

Prowl glanced up towards the ceiling as he pondered this, then broke into a smile. "Ah, yes. I enjoyed the pleasure of your company that night, didn't I?" He looked her up and down, then gave a dismissive smirk. "You weren't all that...memorable."

"Shut up!" She lunged forward, leaning her body over the desk, pointing the gun barrel straight at his forehead. "Do you know how much I loved you? Worshipped you? I would have done anything you wanted. I would have spent the rest of my life with you."

Prowl cocked his head slightly to one side. "Would you? That's nice."

Her words spilled out in an unhinged rant of fury and betrayal. "We all loved you. From the moment you arrived, every femme in the base fought for the merest glance from you." Her eyes had gone unfocused and distant, lost in her memories. "But I was the one who caught your eye. Out of all of them, you chose me. Me!"

Prowl affected a look of vague amusement. "Apparently you read entirely too much into that."

The female scarcely seemed to hear him. "I had dreams of you, even before you came," she whispered, her voice growing faint, almost desperate. "I thought of you constantly, night and day. I saw our future together, the two of us, side by side, forever..."

Then she snapped back to reality. "But I wasn't good enough for you, was I?" The gun was starting to quiver in her hands. "Oh, no. Not the mighty Prowl. You used me for one night, one night, then threw me away like so much garbage." She moved the gun closer to the center of his forehead. "You were everything to me, and I was nothing to you. Nothing!"

The echoes of her shout died away. Silence fell between them for a few moments. Then he prompted, "Finished?"

"No!" she snapped. "When you abandoned me, I was disgraced, humiliated. I swore I'd make you pay for what you did to me."

"Which was what, exactly?" Almost imperceptibly, Prowl's smile shifted, becoming colder. "Did I ever promise you anything? Anything I failed to deliver, that is?" The femme's hate-filled glare flickered uncertainly as he pressed on, "Did I ever suggest, even for a moment, that you were more than just an evening's diversion?" His optics were very cold, now. "Tell me, please."

"I-I thought..." She faltered. "I thought I meant something to you. That...you chose me for a reason."

"I did. You were there."

She took a long, hissing breath of outrage. "You...monster." He remained unperturbed by this latest accusation. Narrowing her optics in steely resolve, she demanded, "You think you can sweet-talk your way out of this one, don't you?" She barked out a laugh. "I've spent every waking moment planning this. Everything I've done, all these years I suffered, it was all to get me here. So I could make you pay."

"I'm flattered." Prowl chuckled slightly. "And I do give you credit. You've gotten further than any would-be assassin in the past, oh, fifteen vorn." His gaze flickered towards the locked door, and he gave a brief tilt of his head in its direction. "So tell me. How many mechs did you have to interface to get in here?"

She recoiled at this accusation, then drew back the gun as if to backhand him across the face. Prowl made the slightest of forward movements. Instantly, she recovered and snapped the weapon towards him, snarling, "Stay where you are!" She visibly struggled to regain her composure. "Don't...you...move."

Prowl's gaze flickered towards her shaking hands, and he tsked in mock sympathy. "That pistol's getting heavy, isn't it."

"Shut up." Her face twisted in a sneer of triumph as she leaned forward again. "No more words." Her voice dropped to a triumphant whisper. "Now you're going to die."

He held her with his inscrutable smile for a moment longer. "And then what?"

She blinked, taken aback by the question. "What?"

"What will you do after you've killed me?" The question was almost casual, as though they were engaged in idle conversation at a slightly boring party. "Do you think this little bit of drama isn't being monitored? I may lack discernment in my choice of partners--" she bridled at this-- "but I'm hardly stupid."

Her optics narrowed. "Neither am I. I had the security cameras disabled."

"Including the one behind that air vent?"

Her gaze flickered for a nanosecond, but she instantly regained her focus. "Nice try." However, a trace of self-doubt shadowed her accusation.

Prowl went on, "Do you think no one will hear the shot? You may have gotten past the guards...well done, by the way, I'll have to execute most of them for that..." Prowl sat back, rested his elbows on the chair's arms, and steepled his fingers before his face. "...but even so, you won't get two steps beyond this room before you're caught."

"I d-don't care." Her shaken expression, however, belied her confident words. "I'm not afraid to die."

His smile grew very, very cold. "I'm sorry. When did I say you would be allowed to die?"

She took a step back, her face twisting in fear. Very slowly, Prowl rose from behind the desk. Standing upright, he was taller than her, and he looked down at her, locking her gaze with his unbreakable stare. "Do you know who's stationed in this very base you've so capably infiltrated? Ratchet. Wheeljack. Perceptor." With every name, she flinched as if at a physical blow. "Even the Lord Prime himself. You've heard these names before, I'm sure. Haven't you?"

There was no reply, but Prowl knew the answer nonetheless. "Now, how do you suppose the Supreme Commander will react to finding an assassin right in his own stronghold?" Moving around the desk towards her, he gave a low chuckle. "I assure you, he won't be pleased. He'll want to deal with the matter...personally."

The female could no longer even attempt to hide her terror. Prowl's voice dropped to a throaty purr. "You've heard the stories, my dear, I'm sure. The rumors. The whispers." His voice grew even softer. "I assure you, my dear. They're all true." He took a step closer to her with each word. "Every. Last. One."

Her quivering voice was barely audible. "I...I..."

He stood before her, close enough to reach out and touch her. She still had the gun aimed at him, but her aim was uncertain, her arms visibly trembling from fatigue and fear. Then Prowl spoke again, his soothing tones at odds with the death-knell of his words. "You'll never make it out of here." He moved even closer. She didn't react; she no longer seemed aware of his presence. "You'll be captured. You'll be taken. You'll be brought before him." Prowl stood right beside her. She didn't even glance in his direction, only stared vacantly at some unseen horror. He leaned in to whisper, "Is that what you want?"

She swallowed, shook her head. "N-no..."

"There is no escape for you, now." His whisper grew sultry. "Except...one."

Slowly, carefully, Prowl reached out to her. "Let me help you," he whispered. Gently, he placed his hand on her shoulder. She quivered at his touch, but did nothing to stop him. "Let me save you."

Almost seductively, he ran his hand down her trembling arm, tenderly grasping her wrist, slowly guiding her hand up. Now the gun was held between them, barrel pointing up at the ceiling. For a moment, the pair stood silent, unmoving. Then, ever-so-gently, Prowl guided the weapon even further.

When he released her, the gun was pointed at her own head.

The long moments ticked by as she stood unmoving, unspeaking. Finally, her optics dropped in surrender. Without looking at him, her voice torn with sorrow and fear, she whispered, "I love you. I've always loved you."

Prowl nodded. "Yes," he replied. "I know."

Uncertainly, her optics flickered towards him. His face was almost compassionate as he regarded her without a word. Briefly, his gaze darted towards her weapon, still held with the barrel pressed against her right temple. Then his eyes met hers, one final time.

And slowly, gradually...he smiled.

Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Artist: Nancy Sinatra
Song: Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)

I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks
He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?"

Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.

Music played, and people sang
Just for me, the church bells rang.

Now he's gone, I don't know why
And till this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down...