"What makes you think this is for sale, Mr. Prowl?" Val replied, looking up at him with an especially angelic expression that anyone who spent much time around her would soon learn meant she was plotting something the exact inverse of angelic.

"Anyway, no, I'm calibrating." She stretched up a whole couple of feet (hey, it was a reach for her) to where she'd left her datapad on a protruding bit of one of the salvaged Cybertronian machines she was in the process of repurposing. "The guy I...borrowed this design from is kinda twitchy about intellectual property, so I'm having to reinvent the controls algorithms as I go. Just as well--I'm better at it than he is."

Somewhere in another universe, Tony Stark suddenly and for no apparent reason found himself extremely indignant.