Talking a Blue Streak

A/N: Thank you for the responses that made this collection of Bluestreak stories possible. Please look at my profile to see the remaining available options and instructions for requests. Slash is a possibility and chapters will be labelled so in the Author's Notes. I do not, however, make any apologies for any innuendo you may find within my work: – you just have a dirty mind.

The following was requested by ThatRedCar.

Energon-Drinking Bluestreak.

"Aww, don't stop now!"

"Yeah – not long to go!"

"Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" Said the four Autobots in unison. This was Bluestreak's third high-grade in as many astro-minutes. With lifted corners at the edge of his lip-components, he tossed back the container and gulped. The room was starting to spin. He was beginning to feel a little woozy. Well, as long as the others were passing him his drinks, he had no real reason to get up out of his chair.

"Easy now – pace yerself kid!" Wheeljack chuckled advisedly. "Yer either gonna be here for hours or yer gonna end up in Ratchet's care within the hour: your choice."

Hound's hand was on Bluestreak's shoulder. He grinned down at him and passed the young gunner yet another drink. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were the ringleaders of this little booze-up: they had a mounting collection of empty containers in front of them and were adamant that they would bring the black and silver Datsun down with them. The twins were there for fun; Hound was there because he had nowhere better to be and was enjoying their company. Wheeljack stood a little behind the scout. Just like the others, he only really wanted to see the young 'bot get drunk.

Bluestreak was not feeling too well. He had drunk too much energon, too fast. But he wanted to impress the brothers – he wanted to prove himself to the others and be accepted. If that meant one night of sickness for weeks of respect, then so be it in his mind.

Bluestreak lifted his drink in cheer to the CMO, leaning against the bar not too far from him. Down went his fourth. Ratchet looked nonchalant. Holding his own high-grade, he sipped at it and analysed the young Autobot, wondering how long it would be before he fell off of his chair. Bluestreak wobbled. Not long if he kept this up.

"Hic!" The sudden sound from Bluestreak surprised the others. "Hic! Hic!" Sunstreaker and Wheeljack began sniggering. "Hrk!" The five other Autobots looked startled and concerned.

"Now what did I say?" Wheeljack chided. "Come on Blue – you've had enough already."

"Nah, nah… 's fine. Really. Yeah," Bluestreak slurred. The common room looked different after a few drinks. He was unsure how though. Wheeljack looked to Ratchet pleadingly for support.

"Don't give me that look - you're on your own and you were encouraging him in the first place. If he goes through with this, then we're less likely to have a repeat experience than if he's interrupted before it reaches its 'conclusion'." This, of course, meant: 'before the high-grade returned to the world once more by the same way that it had left'. Bluestreak was too engaged with the ceiling to notice Ratchet's words. His digits fumbled around another glass that had been placed near his hand. He took his time with this one – he could not drink it fast even if he wanted to.

"C'mon Blue Boy!" Sideswipe tossed back two more full receptacles. The gunner tried to follow suit unsuccessfully. Sunstreaker said nothing but gave him a roguish grin and did the same. The older ones sipped their drinks slowly.

"I'll bet you my entire 'Dr. Who' collection that Blue Boy doesn't make it back to 'is own bed," Wheeljack smirked at Hound.

"No contest – it's obvious that he won't," Ratchet sniped. Wheeljack loved 'Dr. Who': he found it immensely cheesy and engaging all at the same time – it was interesting to see the perceptions of what space and alien technology was like to a race that had yet to make it past their own star.

"Hic! Hic! H…Hrk!" Bluestreak covered his mouth and stood up. Someone kicked his legs out from underneath him and tilted and span the world about while they were at it. Before he realised what had happened, he was on the floor. Everyone stood up and watched his body anxiously.

"Who put that floor there?" He reached up to grab the table but ended up nearly pulling it on-top of himself. The empty energon containers slid across the table and scattered themselves over and around Bluestreak. Unable to stand, he looked at the door to the quarters. Bed. Bluestreak pulled himself along the floor on hands, feet and knees in a similar style to breast-stroke. Sunstreaker burst out laughing and would not stop. Hound and Wheeljack were either side of the Datsun, trying to convince him to let them take him to Med-bay. "Nah, 's fine… everythin' 's fine. I can get back by m'self…" Ratchet stared at the gunner from his place at the bar but did nothing.

When Bluestreak managed to get himself across the floor, the door opened. He found he was looking at two big red feet. Had he bothered to look up any further, he would have seen Ironhide looking down at him with a questioning look.

"Do yer need some help there li'l buddy?"

"Out of his way, Ironhide! He has to make it back himself – it's the only way he'll learn," Ratchet told him strictly. Bluestreak shuffled forwards once more. Sunstreaker was still laughing. The security alarm started going off. "Decepticons!" The twins stood up and took Bluestreak by each arm. It was blatantly obvious he was in no state to fight. Come to think of it, neither were they.

"Come on Blue – to the med-bay with you!"

"Oohh, hic! That rhymes! Hrk!"

Two unsteady Lamborghinis pulled the Datsun along the corridor with Ratchet pacing lethargically behind. Bluestreak might not have lasted the night, but the speed at which he had taken in the high-grade energon and kept it down had earned him that bit more respect from the four other Autobots. And all it had cost him was his pride, his memory of that night and his health the following morning.

"Hrk!"

End.

A/N: The five people who made the original requests had a choice between Bluestreak, Hound or Ironhide, hence the 'cameos' in this first chapter for the other two. If the next chapters are all of this length, consider yourselves (both readers and requesters) very lucky. Very, very lucky.