Springer fiddled with the plexiglass of ethanol on the table in front of him, and tried to remember why he had agreed to bar hop with Arcee. It wasn't even like there was more than one bar on Cybertron. Where were they supposed to hop to?

"I got a plate of shots," Arcee slammed a tray down in front of him, "I'm gonna do it."

Ah, right. Moral support.

"You said that the last time," Springer pilfered a few for himself before Arcee slapped his hand away.

"Yeah?" Arcee acquired a glass of her own and tilted it towards Springer, then downed it in one.

"The last time," Springer interrupted himself by dumping more intoxicants into his battered tank, "was four million years ago."

"Hey, there was a war going on. I have an excuse."

"Sure you do." Springer planted his elbow on the table and drummed his fingers against his chin.

"You don't believe me?"

"Look, I believe you're gonna get drunk and start crying on my shoulder. Again."

Arcee tossed her glass at him. It bounced off his chest and clattered to the ground. After a few seconds of glowering, Arcee leaned down and snagged it with her fingertips.

"I'm gonna do it. Just you watch."

"Okay," Springer nodded, "I'm watching. Go ahead."

Arcee stared for a few seconds, stood up maybe an inch, and sat back down.

"She's busy," Arcee muttered, staring at her reflection in the polished metal.

Springer leaned over. "No she isn't. She's alone. In the corner."

"She's clearly waiting for Chromia to come over and talk to her. They're probably planning Elita-One's ceremony. Obviously."

"Obviously."

"Yeah."

Springer rolled his eyes. "Obviously, Chromia and Moonracer are here for Elita-One's bridal shower. Here, in a dive bar. Two weeks after Elita-One got married. Alone."

"Bridal shower?"

"It's a human thing."

"Huh," Arcee leaned back in her seat and propped her feet on Springer's bench, "you've been spending too much time around Hot Rod. Er, Rodimus."

"So have you, if you keep avoiding confrontation like this."

"Shut up."

"C'mon, Arcee," Springer leaned towards her, "just go talk to her."

"Easy for you to say," Arcee huffed in frustration, "I mean, look at her. She's so, so…" she gestured helplessly.

"Blue?"

"It's seafoam," Arcee snapped, "and I just—I," she broke off and dropped her head into her arms, "she's so pretty. Have you seen her smile? When she smiles I have to physically stop myself from proposing. Or kissing her. Or something."

"Primus, Arcee," Springer patted on her shoulder kibble.

"I know," Arcee whimpered.

"You can't just go out with somebody else?" Springer struggled to come up with some suitable candidates, "Chromia, Firestar, Lan—uh, Lancer. Er, Chromia?"

"Chromia's married, Firestar hates me, Lancer is dating Greenlight," Arcee ticked off the names on her fingers, "there, I officially know more femmes than you."

"Nightbird?"

Arcee lifted her head to glare at him, then dropped it back against the table.

"Do you think I should get a new paint job?" Her voice was muffled by the metal.

"Why?" Springer snagged another shot and tossed it down his throat.

"Pink clashes with mint. Maybe I remind her of Elita-One. I'd look good in black, right?"

"How are you this insecure? Seriously, Arcee, you've literally punched Unicron. From the inside. It can't be that hard to ask out Moonracer."

"Hey." Arcee's voice went flat.

"Sorry. But seriously Arcee. Just ask her."

"What happens when she says no?"

Springer shrugged violently. "Then you get over her? Instead of pining for four millennia?"

Arcee remained silent for a few moments. Springer helped himself to a shot, since Arcee clearly wasn't drinking them.

"I'm gonna do it," Arcee hauled herself upright, eyes blazing. Springer hid the empty glasses behind his hand. "I'm gonna ask her."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

The bar quieted momentarily, and Springer hid his face. Arcee sat primly with her hands in her lap until conversation resumed.

"I've got this," she whispered, "I punched Unicron. I've got this."

"You've got this," Springer pumped his fist in the air and collapsed face first into the table.

Arcee repeated her mantra as she tore across the bar. Moonracer was still sitting by herself, idly toying with a mostly full cube. She rested her cheek in her hand, and tapped her lips with her thumb.

Arcee tripped over her feet and faceplanted into the floor.

"Oh, my gosh," Moonracer shot out of her seat, "are you okay?"

Arcee accepted her hand up and pulled herself to her feet.

"I, uh, I'm fine. The floor is uneven."

Moonracer looked at the sleek metal flooring. Across the room, Perceptor and Skyfire used the tilt of the floor to zero their laser level.

"...Sure. Um, Arcee, you know you can let go of my hand now?"

"Oh," Arcee snapped her hand back to her side, "sorry."

They stood awkwardly for a few minutes. Moonracer rubbed her arm. Arcee felt a frozen grin settle into her face.

"Sooo," Moonracer slid back into her seat, "what's up?"

Arcee looked at the booth opposite her. Moonracer expected her to sit down, right? That was a normal thing to do. She stole a glance at Springer. He was still facedown at the table, and Perceptor and Skyfire had moved their science project over to his booth. He was covered in spare datapads and blueprints. Useless.

With a jolt, she realized that Moonracer was still waiting for a response.

"Uhh," she said eloquently, sliding into the seat opposite Moonracer, "good. I'm good, I mean. Hah, yeah, I'm here. At Maccadam's."

"Ah, yeah, me too," Moonracer giggled. Arcee flushed.

Moonracer returned to complementing her drink, giving Arcee a chance to do what she had been doing all night: namely, stare at her. She really was beautiful, with bright optics and a delicate face. There was more than that, though. She could have looked like the backside of Menasor and it wouldn't have mattered. War did things to people. It made them bitter, mean, quick to temper, and even quicker to accusation. Even Arcee had changed, and she was in stasis for the bulk of the fighting. Moonracer, however, was still friendly. She was still kind, and sweet, and considerate. She still laughed. If Arcee ignored the scars and dents, it would have been like no time passed at all, like she was still sitting in Old Maccadam's on a living planet, surrounded by her friends, looking across the bar at the pretty bot who showed her up at the target range.

Arcee quelled the sudden rush of nostalgia. What was that human phrase Daniel liked? 'You can never go home again.' He said it about moving cross-country. Arcee felt it every time she looked outside.

She shook herself out of melancholy and looked at Moonracer. There was something different about her, something in the set of her mouth, in the creases around her optics.

"Are you okay?" Arcee heard herself ask.

"What?" Moonracer looked up at her.

"You look," Arcee gestured, and then realized, "you look sad."

"Oh," Moonracer drew into herself, "I didn't think anyone would notice."

Arcee leaned over the table. "What's wrong?"

"I, I just. It—" she cut herself off mid sentence and dropped her face into her hands. Her shoulders shook, and Arcee realized, to no small amount of horror, that she was crying.

Frag.

Arcee could comfort Daniel, who was a small human child. That was easy, and was usually one of several simple solutions: get him entertainment, get him food, get him shelter, or get him to his mom. The crying either stopped or it was consigned to Carly. And she could comfort Springer and Rodimus, both of whom who usually needed a sympathetic presence in a moment of weakness who would never talk about it again. This though…

Moonracer looked so fragile.

Arcee swallowed her nerves and endeavoured out of her seat to sit next to Moonracer. She rested a hand gently on Moonracer's shoulder.

Moonracer looked up at her, her face and hands charred with electricity.

"It's okay," Arcee said, and folded Moonracer into her arms, "it's okay."

Moonracer pressed her face against Arcee's shoulder and sobbed. Arcee rubbed her back and murmured comforting sounds into her ear. Moonracer's hands wound around her waist, clutching desperately at her kibble. After a while, the fritzing static in her optics stuttered out, and she petered into the occasional hiccup.

She drew back and rubbed away the char on her face.

"Sorry," she murmured, retrieving a small cloth from subspace. She scrubbed off her face and hands, then handed it to Arcee. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Arcee accepted it, and wiped roughly at the soot on her shoulder. "Are you? Okay, I mean?"

Moonracer vented air. "Not really."

"You want to talk about it?"

"It's just—it's stupid really. I, um, it's just that," she sighed, and curled her hands in her lap, "Powerglide cheated," she said quietly, "and I broke up with him."

Arcee was struck by three thoughts. First, she made plans to haul Springer's aft out of the bar and kick the everloving slag out of Powerglide. Second, she wondered who else would even bother putting up with Powerglide's scrappy attitude. Third, how could anyone ever even begin to consider cheating on sweet, kind, gentle Moonracer?

"Arcee?" Moonracer touched her arm.

"Huh?" Arcee looked at Moonracer. Right, refocus.

"You looked super angry. I could hear your teeth grinding."

"It's nothing. Look, are you, um, are you gonna be okay? Is that why you came out tonight?" Arcee gently captured her hand.

Moonracer slumped against her shoulder. "Maybe? I mean, drinking is what people do when they break up, right?"

Arcee eyed the mostly full cube. "It doesn't look like you did much of that."

"Yeah," Moonracer sniffled, then let loose a half hysterical giggle, "I guess I didn't."

"If you don't mind… who did he cheat with?"

"Ms. Carlton-Ritz."

Arcee frowned. "I've never heard of them. Are they stationed on Earth?"

"Ah, no," Moonracer sounded ashamed, "she's human."

Seriously? Arcee liked humans, sure, but dating one? How did that even work?

"What the Pit is wrong with Powerglide? That's like, I mean," Arcee held her fingers together, "she's little."

Moonracer's shoulders slumped. "She's nice. Really sweet."

"You've met her?"

"That's how I," Moonracer sighed again, "how I found out. We went for a drive; I broke down three times. She's got some thing with electronics," she explained, "but, uh, Powerglide never told her about us. Me."

"She still dating him?"

Moonracer shrugged. "Maybe? I blocked his frequency before I left Earth. I just—I just hate him!" She sobbed. Arcee wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "What did I do wrong?"

"Hey, hold up," Arcee tipped Moonracer's head up, "what did you do wrong? Powerglide is the one who messed up. He's the one who stepped out on a sweet, kind," come on, rein it in, Arcee, "beautiful bot like you."

"I know. I mean, Elita told me all the time how he wasn't good enough for me, but," she waved a hand, "I liked him, I really did. And he liked me. I liked us together. It didn't matter what Elita said, because we were together, but now? She was right all along, and I was just stupid."

"Don't say that about yourself," Arcee rubbed Moonracer's arm, "you aren't stupid."

"You're too nice," Moonracer muttered.

"What, you think you deserve to be called dumb? To have some slagger treat you like you're replaceable?"

Moonracer remained silent.

"Moonracer, look at me," Arcee cupped Moonracer's face and met her gaze, "you deserve everything. You should have somebody who'll treat you right. Who'll listen to you, and love you, and care. Someone who'll kiss you good morning, and—and call you when they need to see your smile, go driving with you just to watch the sunset. When she's lonely, she'd think about you and how you make it all worth it. She'd look at you, and see the universe in your eyes. She'd never leave you, and I'd never make you cry. You deserve…"

Someone who wouldn't take advantage of emotional weakness for the sake of a crush. Arcee bit her lip. Moonracer was staring at her, optics wide.

"You deserve someone better." She finished lamely.

Moonracer shuttered her optics and leaned into Arcee's hands.

"Thank you," she said finally, "I don't know if I—" she shook her head, and wrapped her arms tightly around Arcee, "thank you."

Arcee cringed. That had been embarrassing. But… so, so worth it.

"No problem."

Moonracer pulled away. "Ugh, I'm all gritty."

"How about I walk you back to base?"

"What about Springer?" Moonracer's brows drew together. "Didn't you come here with him?"

They looked over at Springer. He was conscious now, and seemed to be the battleground for a series of complex notes taped to his chest. He threw a crumpled up ball of paper at Perceptor.

"I think he's gonna be okay. You ready?" Arcee stood up and held her hand out.

"Uh, sure," Moonracer slid out of the booth and accepted Arcee's hand. She didn't let go when she was standing, and instead laced their fingers together. Arcee let herself indulge. She would have though they would drive, but if Moonracer wanted to walk, who was Arcee to dissuade her?

"Just a sec," Arcee stopped before they exited the bar. "Springer!" she shouted, "you got the tab?"

Springer gave a clumsy thumbs up and was immediately battered down by Skyfire, who leapt to readjust his notes.

"Okay," Arcee held the door open, "let's go."

It was a peaceful night. No aliens, or monster planets, or ghosts. Just Arcee, Moonracer, and the stars. It made Arcee's spark twinge painfully.

"You know," Moonracer broke the quiet, "I thought you would have brought Springer. I mean, you live with him, right?"

"We're roommates, yeah, but he has the passcode. He doesn't need me to get in."

"Well, you know," Moonracer gestured with her free hand, "I just thought you two would want to spend more time together, is all."

Arcee squinted. "Why?"

Spend more time together? She and Springer were practically attached at the hip already.

Moonracer looked up at her, confused. "Well, you two are dating, so I just thought…"

"Dating?" Arcee blanched. "Me and Springer?"

"Aren't you?"

"Primus, no. We're just friends," Arcee explained, "we were in the same crèche. He's practically my brother."

"Oh," Moonracer's eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth with her fingertips, "I just assumed. Sorry. So, um, are you with anyone?"

Arcee bit back her emotions. "Nah. I'm single."

Single for the last four million years. Even if she had been in stasis for most of it.

"Oh, that's… cool. I'm single, too." She giggled.

Arcee laughed, too. Moonracer started swinging their arms back and forth, until they were practically skipping down the empty street. They arrived back at base too soon.

"Uh, Arcee," Moonracer wiggled her fingers, "I need to unlock my door."

"Oh, uh," Arcee unlaced her fingers, "sorry."

"It's okay," Moonracer punched in her code and the door slid open. instead of entering, she kicked at the dust. She had a look on her face, like she wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words.

"I—"

"What—"

They spoke at the same time.

Arcee held her hand up. "You go first."

Moonracer fiddled her hands, silhouetted by the light from her room, "Earlier. You… well, you said," she shut her mouth with a click, and vented deeply, "when you said you'd never make me cry, and, well, all that other stuff—did you mean it?"

Arcee's eyes went wide, and she felt a cold flush of terror pump through her body. What had she said? 'I'd'. As in, first person. As in, Arcee. Oh, Primus. Oh, Primus. She had to move. She had to leave town right now. Maybe Ultra Magnus would let her transfer to Earth? Or she could get a deep space commission with Cosmos, or something?

"Yes," she said instead, breathless, voice weak, "I meant it."

"Good," Moonracer stepped forwards and planted her hands on Arcee's shoulders, "because I mean this, too."

She stood on her tiptoes and gently, so gently, pressed her lips to Arcee's cheek. She pulled away, and looked a little surprised at herself.

"Goodnight!" She stuttered and bolted inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

Arcee blinked, and tried to restart her pump. She touched her cheek, softly and sent the memory of Moonracer kissing her! to her permanent files.

She leapt into alt mode and took off so fast she fishtailed, but it really didn't matter because Moonracer kissed her!

"Springer, I did it!" she commed victoriously, revving her engine as she took the turn for home, "I did it!"

Then, she wondered if this counted as a first date.


Today's title comes from Won't Say (I'm in Love), from the Hercules soundtrack. My auto-shuffle is working with me today.

Thanks for reading!