Author's Notes: This is my very first fan fiction and I'm quite pleased with it. I got inspired after listening to this song during a storm. Transformers and the song "No Rain" do not belong to me but to Hasbro and Blind Melon respectively. Love it? Loathe it? Please review I need the feedback

No Rain

Mirage laced his fingers together and rested his head on top of them. The spy was sprawled out in the middle of a field. His optics focused on the sky. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of delight as he watched dark gray clouds roll onto the horizon.

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain

I like watchin' the puddles gather rain

Mirage sighed, nothing worth mentioning ever happened on Earth. No, this planet and all its wonders was nothing compared to Cybertron. Or if anything worth mentioning did occur it was always garish fighting. The humans fought humans, Autobots fought Decepticons, or on occasion humans attempted to fight Transformers.

But for some reason this tiny little Earth occurrence delighted him. What did Spike call the season again? Oh yes it was spring, a time when a torrent of precipitation was not uncommon. Why did he love it so? Was it the way the wind picked up before a storm and made the grass ripple all around him? He watched a rabbit scurry across the field pause then rush to its hole. Perhaps it was the way the animals would scurry about sniffing the air in half panic anticipating the storm then race to hide as the drops began to fall.

No, maybe it was the raindrops with their clarity, their smell, their taste, the sensation and sound they made when they splattered against his armor. Or perhaps it was the calm before the storm that enthralled him so.

A violent clash of thunder interrupted his musing and lightning followed. No maybe it was the raw power exhibited by the unconscious yet omnipresent storm that fascinated him so.

And all I can do is just pour some tea for two

And speak my point of view

But it's not sane, it's not sane

As his optics scanned dark cloud after dark cloud his mind drifted from the approaching rain. He hated when he had to wait for the rain. When it failed to fall his mind wondered towards a tumult of things best left not dwell upon. Troublesome and tiresome topics such as his comrades, Cybertron, and even his own disposition were all things he turned about in his mind.

"Comrades" At times could he even consider them that? Would his "comrades" even begin to consider him as a traitor? Although he had is doubts about the Autobot's cause he was not a turncoat. The Decepticons were more garish in their tactics than the Autobots. He could gain absolutely nothing from switching sides, as they were uninterested in permanently returning to Cybertron any time soon. No, they wanted to take their time on this planet and purge it entirely of its energy first. The Decepticon's tactics were bull headed, futile; he could never ride amongst them.

"Tink" A singular raindrop hit his chest. "Born with a silver sparkplug in his mouth." That was what his fellow Autobots thought of him and their preconceived notions were all they wanted to know about him. Primus, if he had an energon cube for every time he heard that expression. Yes, as soon as he was activated he was thrust into a world that was quite different from the average Transformer's. Energon was never an issue even in the most trying times and vacations to nearby resort asteroids common. Even though he'd grown accustomed to that lifestyle couldn't his fellow Autobots see that he didn't choose to be activated into that type of world?

I just want someone to say to me oh, oh, oh

I'll always be there when you wake yea, yea

Ya know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today, hey

So stay with me and I'll have it made

"Tink, Tink" "Tink, Tink, Tink" The drops, still falling at a slow pace, landed on his face. That was exactly why they felt distain towards him. He had not so much as squinted an optic to get what he'd had on Cybertron.

The sound of thunder roared through his auditory sensors. So he didn't like fighting. If that made his fellow Autobots think his morals were merely the protests of an upper class bot not wanting to get his paint scratched then they were clearly mistaken.

Fighting was his problem with the war. Shouldn't a race advanced as the Transformers be above such barbarian tactics as physical combat? A bot could do more with words than with cannons or rifles.

The Decepticons wanted power. The Autobots fought back to ensure their existence. Then again, after nine million years, one would assume some sort of compromise could have been reached. In this struggle for existence the Autobots had acquired the same all or nothing attitude the Decepticons had all along. Only the Autobot's motives went from survival to self-righteousness. The Decepticon's remained dishonorable and evil.

And I don't understand why I sleep all day

And I start to complain when there's no rain

The formula one car shifted restlessly on the grass. He did feel he was above fighting. But he thought all Transformers; at least Autobots should feel the same way. Fighting was a skill to be used only when absolutely necessary. One should ensure that the battle is a skilled, planned, and concise attack. It should not be a sloppily rushed scheme.

And all I can do is read a book to stay awake

And it rips my life away, but it's a great escape

Escape...escape...escape...

Maybe it was the "aristocrat" talking again, but "Aristocrat" oh how he hated that word. Why dedicate, risk, probably lose your life to what is essentially someone else's cause? Countless bots on both sides would die in battle; others would conveniently be forgotten by their superiors.

How did he know? He'd seen the scenario play out every day on Earth. Humans who claimed to be without prejudice let other humans die of disease and hunger everyday. Governments forgot about those they'd been elected to protect; their own people. If Transformers would fight as needlessly as humans then they could certainly govern as foolishly as they.

However Mirage had casually forgotten the problems with his beloved Cybertron's social system. His own friends in the Cybertronian parliament lobbied to ensure lesser machines without complex processors were either worked until they were dysfunctional or obsolete just to save a little energon. Junkticons were treated as less than Cybertronian and the only citizens who mattered were those who wore an insignia.

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain
ya don't like my point of view
ya think I'm insane
Its not sane...it's not sane.

The rain had finally begun to fall at a steady pace. In his mind Cybertron was a paradise, and he wanted nothing more than to return to it. He couldn't help but imagine that for a moment the rolling rain swept setting before him was the circuit-laden landscape of Cybertron.

I just want someone to say to me oh, oh, oh, oh
I'll always be there when you wake yea, yea
Ya know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today, hey
So stay with me and I'll have it made

The rain finally fell in a constant downpour. The sound of it hitting his armor along with the continual clash of thunder was almost deafening to his auditory sensors. The sound consumed him so that he could no longer dwell on his chaotic thoughts.

Why did he like the rain so much? Like the progression of raindrops it made thought, theory, and emotion pour through his mind, then steadily subside into a peaceful silence. The rain like a chemical bath for his mind it washed away his insecurities "What will you do when spring fades into summer? When there is no rain?" Mirage asked himself.

I'll have it made
I'll have it made
You know we're really gonna, really gonna have it made
Gonna have it made
ahhh,ahhh, ahhh, ahhh)

There was nothing to do with the rain but watch it. Although Earth was nothing like his beloved Cybertron; on Cybertron there was no rain.

Author's notes again: So what did you think? I'm kind of new to g1 so some things are probably inaccurate. I tried to keep Mirage in character and all. Please let me know what you thought about it.