*screams and becomes a total fan girl* I died laughing! Go to youtube and look up "Drew Careys Improvaganza Episode 21"…. They do a Broadway musical for Transformers! And the song for the executioner at the end is to die for! *snort*

YOU ASKED FOR IT! MORE CUTIE BLUE!

*sees glare*

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Sideswipe rolled onto his side, his tanks threatening to purge.

"Oh, Primus," he groaned, his optics fighting to remain closed.

"Get up!" Sunstreaker yelled.

"Ouch!" Sideswipe whined, grasping his helm and covering his audios. "Volume Sunny"

Sunstreaker smirked, noting the signs of overenergizing. The fact that Sideswipe had been brought back to their shared quarters by a very annoyed Prowl also clued the golden mech into his brother's most recent activities. Add to the fact that there was the usual graffiti painting Sideswipes aft, and there was a high probability that he had overindulged, again, and lost who knows what in a wager against the resident cast iron tank.

"Have fun, did you?" Sunstreaker asked, hands on hips and staring at the groaning mass of ruby metal that once resembled his twin.

"Primus," Sideswipe moaned again, gasping at the boiling sensation in his tank.

"Close," Sunstreaker said, puffing his armor in a preen "But you're still on the duty roster for patrol this afternoon with Bluestreak."

"Can't do it," Sideswipe said, rubbing his midsection in an effort to sooth his discomfort.

"Do you think Prowl will let you off the hook so easily?" Sunstreaker asked, poised like an irate God over a supplicating minion.

"Cover?" Sideswipe muttered, trying to plead with his twin but finding the urge to purge to be causing him great distress. He opted to send his torment over their bond. So caught up in his own misery, he didn't see his brother flinch from the wide open bond now sharing their pain and suffering.

"Fine," Sunstreaker said, crossing his arms over his chassis and looking away in disgust. "I'm always stuck with covering for your drunken aft."

Gratitude flooded the bond.

"But I want something in return," Sunstreaker said, pointing a finger at his twin but Sideswipe's optics were closed and missed the gesture.

Hurt and anguish was his answer.

"Cute," Sunstreaker snorted, tapping his pede and causing Sideswipe to moan and roll onto his front, pressing his face into the cushion of the berth. The neat scrawl of Smokescreen's writing was visible on his aft.

"I think Smokescreen should visit a psychologist," Sunstreaker said, adding the "written on aft tally" to 1821. Smokescreen must be an aft mech. He certainly liked to write on it more than any other body part. Not to mention that Sideswipe made a very amicable message board when inebriated.

"This weekend, our quarters, all to myself," Sunstreaker said, stating his terms.

A muffled noise was his reply.

"I've been watching an art program on the human broadcasting and I would like to try to blend the mediums. To do that I need peace and quiet. Two things I know you're allergic. So, next weekend, for seventy two hours, you will not step a pede inside our quarters. Deal?"

Sideswipe gave a thumbs up, that quickly turned into a mad gasp for the waste receptacle as he purged his tank. The congealed energon splattered, causing Sunstreaker to sigh and turn away.

Sunstreaker left without another word, hoping his brother didn't get any of his sick on the floor or his berth. If he did, there was a good chance that he'd migrate to Sunstreaker's berth, and repeat the process. Sunstreaker would hate to have to murder his twin.

"Sunstreaker," Prowl greeted at the entrance to the ARK.

Sunstreaker offered a curt nod in affirmation before finding Bluestreak's gray frame babbling away to Hound and Preceptor who were needing a third opinion on a recent sample. Unfortunately Bluestreak had a tendency to stray off topic and now both mechs stood looking bewildered and a little confused.

"Come on Motor Mouth," Sunstreaker yelled, transforming and revving his engine.

'Where's Sideswipe?' Bluestreak asked when he gained the other mech's side. Sideswipe was his usual partner on Sunday patrol.

"Charging,' Sunstreaker replied with another rev.

"Oh,' Bluestreak said, looking a little worried. He got along great with Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker, well, no one really got along with him. He was trouble on four tires.

"It's alright, Bluestreak," Prowl said, typing on his datapad. "Sunstreaker agreed to the shift modification last night when I spoke to him."

"Sideswipe over-charged again?" Bluestreak asked in a timid way. He wasn't sure what Sunstreaker's reaction would be and he either wanted back up from the senior officer, or to look adorable enough to prevent a throttling. Either way, he wasn't taking any chances.

"My brother is an idiotic sot," Sunstreaker said, then started rolling toward the road that lead into the city. "Come on Blue. We have asphalt to cover."

Bluestreak exchanged a mixed look with Prowl, who gave a nod in silent excuse and turned to answer a summons by Red Alert. With a sigh of defeat Bluestreak followed Sunstreaker to the horizon. As they navigated the twists and turns that marked a typical Oregon road, Bluestreak couldn't stand the lone rustling of wind over his grill. Weighing his option of being throttled into stasis by an overzealous Lamborghini, versus the pained silence that haunted his waking hours, Bluestreak opted to start a conversation. His words were cut off as Sunstreaker spoke.

"You're quiet today," Sunstreaker said, enjoying the feeling of having the wind whipping through his grill.

It felt nice to sample Earth's clean air. It always lifted his spirits. Usually Sideswipe accompanied Sunstreaker on his scheduled patrols, being the only one who could withstand the violent temper and acidic words. Not to mention Sunstreaker enjoyed a heavy pace that only someone with a modified engine could keep. Thankfully, Bluestreak was formatted with all the right modifications. He kept an even pace with his patrol partner.

"Not sure what to say," Bluestreak admitted. With the other Autobots it was easy to talk. The topics flowed with ease and his vocalizer kept up without hesitation. With Sunstreaker, he had to chose his words carefully and navigate the non-defensive course of conversation, least he end up in a ditch on the side of the road.

"That's a first for you," Sunstreaker jibed, finding the elation in his spark that meant his twin was unconscious again.

Bluestreak made a soft noise that sounded like a hurtful sigh, his acceleration lagging just a fraction.

"You can talk," Sunstreaker offered, feeling a sadness wash over him. He knew Bluestreak's history. "I don't mind a little conversation."

Bluestreak perked up, his engine revving as he gained the couple of paces from Sunstreaker.

"I know it gets annoying,' Bluestreak started, feeling as if he needed to explain his compulsion to his partner. Hopefully Sunstreaker would understand and not beat him into stasis. "But I grew up in a family unit of six. There was always noise and activity and companionship. After Praxus fell, there was only silence."

Sunstreaker remained quiet, listening to the gunner and finding a new respect for the mech he normally considered to be a nuisance.

"All the bombs and explosions. People screaming, shouting, filling the airwaves with static and pain,' Bluestreak said, delving back into the memories he despised. "All of my people, screaming for help. Asking for the horror to stop. Begging for mercy. Then all at once, nothing. All of their voices were muted, as if they never existed."

Sunstreaker turned onto the highway, his scanners employed but he ignored them in favor of his partner's recollection.

"My family was gone. All of my friends, terminated," Bluestreak said, feeling that sinking feeling in his tanks that threatened to drown him in sorrow. "I'll never hear their voices again. They were lost in the silence that took my city. But when I talk, it's like I'm talking to them, just waiting for them to answer. All I have to do is keep talking, and they will hear me and answer back. They will hear me."

"I'm sorry, Blue," Sunstreaker said and for once, he meant it. He knew the gunner had survived the destruction of Praxus, but he never realized how much it still haunted the talkative mech. He knew that Praxian's were generally a very close knit city, their community built on bonds of family and friendship. It was difficult to imagine being surrounded by loved ones, then have them taken away and thrown into solitude. The idea of being parted from Sideswipe, however annoying he was, Sunstreaker couldn't imagine never having to see, hear, or sense his twin again. It was a bewildering thought.

"I have the Autobots as my family now,' Bluestreak said, pulling himself from his daze. "I'm no longer alone. I have a lot of people to talk to now."

Sunstreaker offered a snort of derision. He didn't like talking. He didn't like people. And he didn't like people talking to him.

But instead of giving him his usual comfort, the fact annoyed him. He swerved to avoid a pothole and almost collided with Bluestreak.

"Unit of six?" Sunstreaker asked, finding the number to be rather high for a Cybertronian family unit.

"I had two brothers and a sister," Bluestreak said, feeling his spark pang at their loss. "My older brother, Rapidfire, used his body to shield me when our housing unit collapsed."

Sunstreaker frowned, waiting for Bluestreak to continue, and then wished he hadn't.

"One of the structural beams snapped in two and pierced his spark chamber," Bluestreak said, his voice dropping low with the pain of memory. "He was smiling at me and telling me to calm down when he terminated."

Sunstreaker felt something inside his spark chamber beat out a frantic pulse. The idea of staring into the optics of a loved one as they terminated was something that haunted Sunstreaker during his charging hours. Yes, he had terminated mech and femme alike. Yes, he had done so with great joy, and equally, hollow detachment. In the gladiatorial rings, it was kill or be killed. There was no room for error or sympathetic weakness. The same rules applied to war. But there was something about having the one you love perish right before your optics. His attention was drawn back to his patrol partner when Bluestreak continued speaking.

"Do you mind if we stop somewhere?" Bluestreak asked.

"Not really," Sunstreaker said, mulling over the young gunners words.

"Follow me," Bluestreak said, taking an exit ramp and heading toward one of the many vistas that overlook the ocean.

Sunstreaker knew the place that Bluestreak was directing them to, but held his vocalizer. Sunstreaker had painted many a sunrise from this particular location. When the duo reached the overlook, they transformed. Bluestreak stepped near the edge of the railing the humans had put up to prevent cars from driving off the cliff. The railing came up to his ankle.

"Do you see that cove?' Bluestreak asked, pointing to the sharp niche cut into the rock face.

Sunstreaker nodded, having the early morning sunlight as it painted the crashing waves when they hit the rocks. When the new dawn crested on the horizon, the violent water in the cove provided a myriad of color and dancing light. Sunstreaker loved this cove.

"That shade of blue, there at the recessed point of the cove," Bluestreak said, his optics fixed on the ocean that captured his attention. "That was the color of my creators. They were both a deep shade of blue. That is the exact color of their plating… when they were alive." Bluestreak's servo pointed to the far edges of the water, where it lapped in brutal waves against the sharp rocks. "The foam that forms along that ridge looks like the pale yellow of my femme creator, Chatterbox. She was in the communications tower when the seekers destroyed it."

Sunstreaker could feel the hurt and turmoil, crashing and rolling like the waves down blow. Not knowing what to say he opted for silence, allowing Bluestreak the chance to continue.

"My sire was a mech by the name of Broadstroke," Bluestreak added, his optics fixated on the patch of ocean that reminded him of his lost family. "He was a dock worker, but he always had a passion for art." Bluestreak looked to his silent partner, his optics lit up with happy promise. "You would have gotten along great with him. He would have loved your work."

Sunstreaker offered a half smile, not sure what to say. He didn't like conversations for this specific reason. Emotions. Feelings were brought up and openly displayed and though Sunstreaker could terminate a mech without hesitation, discussing feelings scared him more than going head first into battle. He just didn't know how to cope. And going back to the ARK while feeling like this was sure to end badly. For someone. Sunstreaker needed time to sort through his emotions and to file them away so they wouldn't interfere with his normal, caustic attitude.

Primus, is this what Prowl feels? Is that why he's always so distant and seemingly emotionless?

Sunstreaker frowned, not knowing why all these thoughts and emotions were weighing so heavily on him. It wasn't like him to experience such things. That was more Sideswipe's aspect of their bond. Realization hit like Devastator's fist. Sideswipe was unconscious, which meant that Sunstreaker had to deal with the emotional aspect of their bond without having his twin to run the metaphorical interference. If this was what Sideswipe experienced all the time, Sunstreaker just may have to cut the fragger some slack.

Maybe.

"What do you say, we stay awhile?" Sunstreaker asked, taking the bold step of sitting on the edge of the vista, mindful of the railing. He didn't think it was wise to go back to the ARK.

"If you want," Bluestreak said, a little too eager to plant himself on the lookout, his gaze drifting to the alcove that shimmered with the colors of his family.

The traffic in the distance faded away, commuters returning from their liturgical practices to attend lunches and family gatherings. Since the day was sunny with a gentle, cooling breeze, most opted for the park or down by the beach. The two Autobots on the lookout were safe from prying eyes and nosy humans.

The duo sat in silence for an hour. Sunstreaker found it refreshing and was grateful his companion was able to hold his vocalizer so he could sort through his emotions. When he turned to speak to his companion, he was struck with the melancholy displayed on the usually naïve and boyish face. It didn't seem right. Such dark and heinious things should never haunt someone with such a good spark and gentle demeanor.

'Red Alert to Sunstreaker,' Red Alert's voice came crackling over the comms.

'Sunstreaker here. What do you want?' Sunstreaker answered, watching Bluestreak's face as he stared morosely at the cresting water below.

'Tele-Tran reports you have been stationary for the last ninety-seven minutes,' Red Alert said, sounding suspicious.

'We are surveying the ocean and will return to base when we're slagging ready,' Sunstreaker said, cutting the transmission.

Sunstreaker's attention remained fixed on Bluestreak, who continued to stare at the water. A part of Sunstreaker wanted his brother there so he could beat the slag out of him and deal with the emotional turmoil now boiling in his spark chamber. His thoughts were interrupted when Bluestreak turned to him, his normal happy-go-lucky self back on his face and giving Sunstreaker an expectant look.

"You ready to go back?" Bluestreak asked, his expression looking rather forced.

"We can stay a little longer, if you like," Sunstreaker said, settling himself in a comfortable position and gazing out over the crystalline waters.

That seemed to be what Bluestreak wanted to hear. He gave a happy chirp and followed his companion's gaze across the water. The sun crawled across the sky and sat on the horizon, watching the two lone Autobots on the vista. With great reluctance, it dipped behind the sea, sending its last rays toward the beach in goodbye. When darkness had fallen, Sunstreaker rose to his pedes, hearing a pop in his joints that meant he'd been stationary for too long. Bluestreak mirrored his actions, though his joints only offered a soft hiss of hydraulics. He was used to remaining statuesque for long periods of time due to his sniper training.

Sunstreaker was surprised the Praxian had remained quiet during the rest of the day. But with his gaze mesmerized by the secluded cove, he had very little to say. It was a welcomed relief. But with the darkness hovering over Bluestreak, Sunstreaker didn't think there was anything to say to lift his spirits.

"Ready?" Bluestreak asked, turning toward the road and transforming.

"If you are," Sunstreaker said, storing the images he took into his memory banks.

As the duo headed back to base, Bluestreak's headlights leading the way, Sunstreaker ran through the shifting colors that he witnessed while in the company of someone else's memories. When he got back to his quarters he found them Sideswipe-free, and spent the next few days collecting the supplies he needed for his weekend project.

The next weekend, Sideswipe was unceremoniously kicked out of the quarters he shared with his twin. Griping and protesting he went to Blaster's quarters, seeing how he was the only bot without a roommate due to his musical snoring. Sunstreaker left his makeshift studio only once to collect a couple of cubes before returning to his quarters, no one offering comment on his paint splattered body, or the paintbrushes tucked into the side of his windshield like a smock.

When Bluestreak awoke from charge early Monday morning, it was to find a wrapped package at the foot of his berth. Frowning he pulled off the paper and couldn't stop the gasping cry that escaped.

A perfect rendition of the cove was frozen forever on the canvas. The hues of the blue ocean frosted by pale yellow foam, was the exact color of his lost creators. The water looked as if it was in motion, crashing on the rocks, the spray offering a ultra-violet rainbow as the dying sun caught the vapor.

Bluestreak sat in awe, staring at the masterpiece, tears of coolant leaking from his optics. There was no doubt as to who was responsible. Sunstreaker's Cybertronian symbol was delicately blended into the lower right hand corner. The golden mech had captured the depth of the water, echoing the depth of longing and pain from the mech who gained a modicum of connection with his long-lost family. Bluestreak was granted a little glimmer of peace, even if it was only available on canvas.

As Bluestreak stared at his gift, Sunstreaker exited the ARK, whistling a little tune and causing the other mechs to steer clear. If Sunstreaker was in such a happy mood, there was a good chance the sky was about to fall, Decepticons would declare their unrequited love toward the Autobots, and the Pit Maker would dance naked with Primus around the sun.

Sunstreaker transformed and zoomed off to the horizon, chasing the sun to its resting place.

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Awwwww… aren't they both just darling?

I would say cast your vote for who you want to star with the twins next, but I'm afraid of the outcome. Not to mention I don't want my requested peeps feeling left out.

Oh, I already have an outline for the next chapter! It's a brief glimpse into the lives of the twins when they signed up. (WEG)

Don't be afraid to leave me a note!

I'm almost at 600! Gosh! *faints* If I can get a lot of reviews, I'll post an extra chapter on Tuesday. Is that incentive enough?