A/N: Just a collection of SandstormxFireflight mini drabbles, too long to be a "One Sentence" type of thing and too short to be posted on their own or in chapters. This was mostly written to get a feel for the characters and learn to portray them better. I'll add to this over time, and eventually may expand a few into longer stories. Until then, enjoy :)


Savior

Lying beneath the rubble, he heard the voice whisper his name, and he felt a hand brush against his arm. All it took was that one touch for Fireflight to know that everything would be alright; Sandstorm was here - he was saved.

What's Best

It was for the best, really. The Wreakers needed Sandstorm at his best, not constantly daydreaming about the jet. And Fireflight deserved someone else - someone who didn't need to hide things from him, or leave for weeks at a time, or that everyone else looked down on as a cold-sparked killer. Yes, it was better to break it off now, instead of letting cold reality do the job.

So why did it feel as if he'd ripped his spark in two?

Priorities

As soon as he returned to the Ark, the first thing Sandstorm did was find Fireflight. He needed to see the Aerialbot, to see him smile, and laugh, and to touch him and know that he was alright. Until then, nothing else mattered.

Bring Him Home

Every time the Wreakers left on a mission, Fireflight sent a prayer to Primus, pleading for Sandstorm to be able to come back to him. Little did he know that whenever the Aerialbots were sent out, Sandstorm, too, asked for his lover's safe return.

Hell and Back

He had searched, inquired, bribed, threatened, cajoled, taken out several favors, lied, stolen, attempted to out cheat Swindle, practically went to the Pit and back, and lost a fraggin' lot of money in the process - but seeing the pure, innocent joy on Fireflight's face as he unwrapped the set of high quality oil paints, Sandstorm knew it had been worth it.