Mixed feelings on this one. I think it was a good idea but it didn't translate well or something when I went to write it.


If Blurr wanted to be anywhere in particular at the moment, he definitely didn't want to be here.

And yet, here he was. Surrounded by loud, gruff `bots he didn't know who only seemed to want to stare at him. Well, them and Cliffjumper. But Blurr didn't know if his presence even counted for anything. Surely he wasn't going to be much support for real conversation or anything of the sort. If anything, he was just going to be a dead weight that Blurr would be forced to drag back to his home. A painfully slow drag.

Maccadam's had closed for awhile after what was starting to be called the 'Great Spark Removal'. Or at least, that's what Optimus had been calling it in his speeches and public announcements. The name had stuck, even if Blurr didn't feel like it really fully expressed the extent of the event. He had his own title for it. 'Nightmare'. Nobot else seemed to want to think about it negatively, though. It was like they were trying to forget what had happened, or else make it less horrifying than it was.

Blurr was never going to be able to forget it.

Anyways, since the Oil House had been temporarily out of commission due to the repairs to some of the skyline that Unicron had crushed and the emotional repairs to everybot involved, Cliffjumper had made Blurr promise that they would hit it on the first day it reopened. Feeling guilty over leaving his friend stasis cuffed on that fateful solar cycle not so long ago, he unwillingly obliged with a fake smile and enthusiasm. Besides, if Cliffjumper was ready for a drink that meant he was recovering well. He had been afraid for awhile that his injuries were mortal, or else he would be incapacitated permanently, but the medibots had patched him up rather quickly and he seemed to be doing fine.

Actually, Blurr really had a reason to celebrate rather than Cliffjumper, who probably was just suffering from a withdrawal. He was doing better about that though. The council and Blurr had urged him to go to a rehab, which he claimed he had been attending. This small trip was not likely a part of their step plan, or whatever they used, but Blurr was going to let him do it this one time. After that he was supposed to be his accountability partner, trailing him down and making sure he stuck to the program.

He could tell that Cliffjumper wasn't a bad as before. He hadn't had nearly as many rounds as he usually did, and it looked like he was about done. The way he took in his surroundings made him appear satisfied. That was a good thing. True, he was still fairly drunk, but not at all close to as intoxicated as he used to get. Most of his comments were reasonable and not as slurred.

Cliffjumper stirred his finger in his half empty cup. "Howsit feel?"

"How does what feel?" Blurr replied.

"Y'know what I mean."

Blurr smiled. He was talking about his reinstatement. Sure, it hadn't exactly happened yet, but just the fact that Optimus finally realized he was ready was good enough for him. He couldn't wait until he got to go back to running for a living. Until he got to flip out his badge and explain his credentials to everybot he came in contact with. His life was starting to get normal again. At last!

Of course, there were two setbacks. One was the announcement that Intel was not going to be operating quite the same. But that was expected. Blurr was actually surprised they hadn't done this earlier. Since the war was over there was no real need to spy on Decepticon activity anymore, even more so now since Autobot-Decepticon relations were supposed to be changing. Or so the rumors suggested. That didn't matter much to Blurr, though. He was fine with working with Autobot cases and perhaps other life-forms that had threatened Cybertronian life before. Like Quintessons.

The second one was more of a burden to Blurr, and he didn't like thinking about it. Didn't want to think about it. Too late.

"It feels great, Cliffjumper. Really great." He said halfheartedly.

"Doesn't sound like it. Wus the matter, Blurr? You've always got a lot to say, `specially `bout stuff like this. I thought ya wanted to…" He trailed off, putting two and two together. "Oh…that. I heard about that. Ya okay?"

"I suppose I could be doing better, but in the light of all that I've already been through recently, which you know too well about, I'm doing fine."

"Well…if ya wanna talk `bout it…"

"That's what started all of my problems, Cliffjumper. Talking about it." Blurr replied sharply. Then he softened up, "Thank you for your offer, though, it really means a lot. If I knew it would help me I would have taken it, but I appreciate your concern nonetheless."

Optimus had set him up with a counselor. A therapist. A psychiatrist. A shrink. Whatever you call them. At first Blurr hadn't objected at all to the idea. In fact, it had sounded like it would do him some good. And it was the only concern that Optimus had about redeploying him as an agent. In Cliffjumper's official report his relapse had been fully described, but only from Bumblebee's point of view. Nobot had actually asked Blurr what had happened. Nobot really knew if it could happen again.

It had started out decently. The medibot that talked to him was a nice enough `bot, and he truly seemed to care about his pain. They didn't discuss much about the actual event, just beat around the bush for a megacycle or two. Blurr spilled his guts on how much he loved his job, some of the earliest memories he had, what generally made him emotional, things like that. The medibot nodded, asked a few basic questions, and wrote down practically everything he said. Blurr had been surprised that he was able to keep up with him, since the `bot never once made him slow down.

Then they hit it. The real reason why their meeting had been called. Once again, it began rather well. Nice and easy. That didn't last long.

Everything came back, as clear as if it had happened the solar cycle before. After the medibot had gotten Blurr to calm down, he gave him a quick diagnosis. His psychological trauma was still very present, but only apparent in certain areas as it seemed. Namely, Shockwave. However, as Shockwave was currently in deep stasis that he was not likely coming out of, he didn't pose a threat to Blurr's ability on the field anytime soon.

The medibot decided that they had to find a way for Blurr to forget about the relapse. To make it melt away in the stream of memories (Blurr believed those were his exact words). And the best way to do that was to keep him occupied. Becoming an Intel agent again was the most convenient opportunity they had, so Optimus didn't have much of a choice to reinstate him.

Blurr winced a bit. He hated being excitable. Frenzied. It was the curse that Shockwave had given him that was never going to be able to leave. The flashbacks. The pain. It was better now that he wouldn't be liable to come in contact with his enemy, but he still had the task of keeping himself busy so not as to go into yet another relapse. He knew that forgetting it was out of the question, so being busy was his only option.

"Jetfire woke up yesterday." Cliffjumper announced, most likely on account of the sudden lack of conversation.

"That's great to hear! Is he alright?"

"Fine. Other than the fact he tried to offline himself durin' the first few megacycles. But once he realized Jetstorm wus okay he decided not to."

"What a relief. After hearing all that pain in his voice, which you probably didn't hear because you weren't close enough, which I apologize again for stasis cuffing you, I was more than very worried about him."

Cliffjumper downed the rest of his last cup and looked at Blurr intently. "Hey…if yer blue…and I'm red…does that make our friendship…purple?"

"What are you talking about?" Blurr asked, not sure how they got to this.

"I'm…not sure…'s what I'm tryin' to figure out." Cliffjumper replied, shaking his head.

"You've definitely have had enough to drink. If this isn't your last one, then I would advise you to-"

"Slaggit! Hold that thought."

Cliffjumper suddenly got up, pushing his empty cup down the counter. He slunk over to one of the side exits, faster than Blurr had seen him move before. Too fast for Blurr to even react, oddly enough. He just blinked as he slipped through the door, having absolutely no idea why Cliffjumper abruptly had to leave.

"Blurr? Oh, Blurr, it's you!"

Oh. Now it made sense.

Blurr turned to see the cheery form of Rosanna walking toward him. She looked so out of place among the barely-lit facility full of tough-looking mechs and a few femmes of the same caliber, her pink aura illuminating the area around her.

"Hello, Rosanna, how are you doing today?" Blurr greeted, giving a quick glare toward some mechs who had taken too much of an interest in her.

"Great, thanks!" She smiled.

"So, what are you doing here, exactly? Not that it's wrong for you to be here or anything, because you're a femme or anything like that, I just wouldn't have thought of you as the oil type, per se."

"Same with you."

"I'm not much of a drinker, in fact, I can't stand more than one very disgusting corrosive sip of the stuff." He explained, "But I'm usually coerced into coming to places like this by my friends, of all `bots."

"That's too bad." She replied, "I came because I heard that I could find Cliffjumper around here."

Looks like Cliffjumper escaped just in time. What a shame. Blurr would've liked to see what would've happened. Would Cliffjumper have blown up at her or, for once in his life, be kind to this femme? Instead of revealing his friend's location though, Blurr knew it was best to keep it a secret. Cliffjumper would not be happy with him he did. Not happy at all.

"Well, he's not here right now, unfortunately, but if I see him around here again I'll be sure to tell you."

"So he was here earlier!?" She brightened.

Wrong way to phrase that. "Uh…yeah, he grabbed a drink and went but, if I am correct, which I pretty much usually am, he's not probably going to come back any time later, that is relatively soon…today."

"Oh. That's too bad." She frowned. "I really wanted to tell him something…"

"Uh…" He hated it when she looked sad, "Who knows? I may run into him again, considering he's my boss and all and we generally cross paths for work and all. I could relay the message for you and we could save time."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well…okay then!" She said. "Here it is!"

Before Blurr could realize what she was doing, Rosanna leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He could feel his faceplate burning red as whistling filled the Oil House. What a time to have everybot looking at him. The strange sensation of the touch was pulsating through him, and it only intensified his blush. He wanted to run out of there right then, but he couldn't leave Rosanna here all alone. Was that coolant leaking from his helmet?

It was then he realized that he never had been kissed by a femme before.

She pulled back with a smile, which quickly faded when she saw his uncomfortable expression."Oh…I'm sorry…did I…?"

"No-No-No….it's okay, absolutely fine, no problem!" He insisted, "I-I-I just don't think that it would be the best thing, exactly, for me to pass that on, not that the idea isn't nice and all, but I think it would be better if…you did it."

"You think?"

He nodded frantically, abnormally unable to conjure up any words, sensible or not.

"Okay then! I guess I'll just have to wait until I see him at the Hall of Records." She paused, "Oh my! Look at the time! I have to get back to work! See you later!"

He waved goodbye as she made her way back to the main entrance, practically skipping as she did so. Then when she was gone, he shrunk down in the view of the crowd in the bar, some looking like they were inclined to come up and congratulate him. He didn't want their congratulations about as much as he didn't want their attention. If they were actually listening instead of just watching they would have understood the mishap.

Rosanna hadn't intended any harm. She wasn't making some kind of romantic advance toward him. She was just being herself, and obviously hadn't thought over what kind of message she wanted to give to Cliffjumper. A message that any mech wouldn't be able to pass on. Well, any decent mech. And Blurr considered himself a decent mech. Even if he wasn't a mech, though, the thought of kissing Cliffjumper was rather unnerving, if not horrifying.

Speaking of him…

"Cliffjumper, the coast is clear." Blurr said after activating his commlink.

"Thank the Allspark. Whaddid she want?"

"Nothing important, from what I could tell. It was something about a datapad you had on hold and how she had it ready for you and if you didn't pick it up soon the hold would be cancelled or something like that. Oh, and you had to get it directly from her." Blurr quickly prayed that Cliffjumper really did have a datapad on hold.

"That's why she's been callin' me over `n over again! Okay, if its just that, I guess`ll hafta go see her tomorrow. I need that datapad soon."

And that was what Blurr liked to call 'poetic justice'.