It was a beautiful scene; a real dream come true. And best of all? It was all Bluestreak's.
He had restored the old warehouse, he had bought and bartered from every avenue, both legal and less than (but then, he knew his way around the markets from his own merchant days) to import everything he needed. He had come up with the idea to model after the "night clubs" on Earth, making a place that was unlike any other on Cybertron. And he had put it all together himself.
It had taken three vorns, but it was worth it. The only thing that marred his view from behind the counter was the presence of several 'Cons. He couldn't do anything about that, though, since it was illegal to discriminate against them. That did not mean he had to welcome them with open arms.
"I see you finally painted yourself the right color," he heard a familiar voice call out as a dark red winged Maximal took a seat at the counter.
He chuckled. At the request of almost everyone, blue now complimented the traditional red and silver on his new Maximal body. "If you'da stuck around after the transfer, you would have known that already, Lightspeed. Whatcha having?"
"What do you have that's affordable?" the former Technobot asked. "Being on the Upgrade Committee doesn't pay as well as you'd think. Keeps me busy, though. Otherwise I would have been there when you came online."
"Did I say you were paying?" Bluestreak asked with a wink as he pulled out high-grade in an exotic jar imported from Nebulos.
Lightspeed's grin was payment enough. "You're the best, Blue."
"And don't you forget it, flyboy."
The night went on like this, with old friends and new dropping in. For only his fifth night in business, the place was keeping consistently full. At this rate, he would need to hire help. He wasn't doing this for the money… as his friend Gunslinger had said recently, "You've got dozens of friends and the fun never ends, that is as long as you're buying." Knowing Gunslinger, that had come from a song somewhere.
His reverie was broken by a scuffle that had broken out. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Some youngbot Maximals with too much static in their systems told the Predacons they didn't belong here," Lightspeed explained as they both ducked down to avoid an incoming chair. "That didn't go over too well."
"Stop this! STOP IT!" Bluestreak yelled futilely, jumping over the counter. His attempt to yank one Maximal out of the scuffle only resulted with him reeling away with a dent in his faceplate.
"Need help?" He heard a voice behind him say… a voice that at one time he had prayed never to hear in person.
He whirled about in shock. "You!?"
"Yep. Pax had me downgraded to a weaker form, but they couldn't remove my thousands of vorns of fighting experience."
"But… but… why are you offering to help me?"
The Predacon shrugged. "I need a job."
Bluestreak pondered this a moment before turning around to face the clamor. "GENTLEMECHS!" he called out long enough to grab everyone's attention for a second. It was just long enough. "Allow me to introduce my new bouncer… Sixshot."
It took only a few moments to restore order and put the furniture back into place. Once they were done Bluestreak poured Sixshot a drink and the two worked out the details of their new business relationship. As they discussed things like two civilized beings, Bluestreak pondered. Maybe not all Cons were so bad after all.