AN: Merry Christmas to one and all! (Or whatever you celebrate!)
Plot: The Autobot's first Christmas on Earth and Miles paints them a mural. Why Miles? Because he already looks like a hippie and making him a good painter just makes it better.
Christmas
Optimus took his early morning walk around the base, knowing that with the day off he'd given everyone for Christmas that most people, and mechs, would be sleeping in. Ratchet he knew was up, organizing his Medbay, and he was sure he'd heard a minor explosion from Wheeljack's lab, but he'd not heard anything from Bumblebee, Ironhide, or Jazz, who had been brought back with the shard of the Allspark he'd taken from Megatron's chest, so he assumed they were still in recharge.
One nice thing about Nevada was that even during winter it didn't get too cold, especially near Tranquility, which was where the Autobot base was located. It had snowed before, but it had already melted, much to some of his organic's disappointment. Another nice thing was the remoteness that the desert provided, few organics opting to traverse it for fun. Of course they had an outer fence surrounding the base, and underground sensors even beyond that to alert them, but most of the time they didn't have to worry.
The Prime took a moment to revel in the silence, turning the corner and coming to a halt immediately. Spotting the mural was a huge shock to his systems, lost in his own thoughts as he was. For an instant, looking at it, he truly felt like he was right back on Cybertron, before the war had started. Before his planet had died. The painting didn't seem to be of a particular place, like Tyger Pax, Praxus, or Iacon, and somehow that made it even better, because he'd seen all of those cities laid to waste in the Great War, had the greatness that they once were forever tainted in his memory.
Tapered off to the farthest end of the mural was something that was wholly amazing on its own, even had the symbolism of it not been there. Rough metal and different shades of gray just melted, blended, into gentle greens of vegetation. Cybertron just transformed fluidly into Earth, the transition seamless and yet noticeable at the same time. On the Earth section of the mural was the sun, casting it's rays over Earth and even beyond, lighting up Cybertron as a light source. Earth, their new home. The ray of hope for his species.
And, somehow seeming to just complete it, there was one of his organics sitting at the end of the mural, working diligently on the piece that must have taken a good few hours already. Miles Lancaster sat, filling the last little bit of undetailed space on the wall. The teen had his hair put up in a messy ponytail, some strands still managing to fall out and annoy him enough that he would occasionally blow them out of his face, but not enough to take the time to actually do something about them. From what Optimus could see there was paint all over him, his hands, his shoes, his pants, shirt, and even face from what little he could see of it. The Prime watched the young organic work for nearly an hour without saying anything or moving, not wanting to startle him as he brushed on one layer only to add another or correct something.
And when Miles finally stopped, dropping his brush in some sort of tin can, standing and enjoying a long and probably much needed stretch, he turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Optimus, and the Prime realized that the young organic hadn't even realized he was there. Optimus shuttered his optics in amusement, knowing he was anything but quiet, and enjoyed the sheepish glance around Miles did to check that nothing else had slipped into his surroundings without him noticing.
"This is your Christmas present, Optimus." Miles said after a moment, tone soft, tilting his head ever so slight as if to gauge the Prime's reaction. "One, somewhat-big, painting to all of the Autobots because fuck if I know what else to get y'all."
Optimus shuttered his optics in surprise, knowing that with the given date it was a human holiday, one of the most celebrated of the year, but he had not thought he would be included in it. Then again, the mural wasn't just for him, was it? All of his 'bots could see it whenever they walked by, a little bit of home on this strange new planet they had to inhabit, somehow perfectly showcasing what they had with what they have, both Earth and Cybertron done with an equal amount of skill and love, great in their own right, but Cybertron took up the most space while Earth had the light.
Optimus' optics found the painting once more. "Your skill is great. You did all of this in one night?"
"I had Sam fetching paints and brushes for me and help with the initial bottom layer," Miles replied, grinning. "I believe he passed out somewhere near but not quite in the barracks."
Which Optimus immediately understood as Sam just being lazy and going for Bumblebee instead of walking another two minutes to his own actual bed. Those two were getting into an awful habit of sleeping with each other, and already Optimus had heard Bumblebee say it was easier to recharge with Sam in him. Sometimes he wondered just how close those two really were. Optimus vented softly in exasperation, just managing to not roll his optics, an awful habit he'd picked up from Will.
"Merry Christmas, Miles, and thank you." The Prime looked at the teen, kneeling to be closer to his height. "This means more than you could ever know."
"Merry Christmas to you, too, big guy."