He sipped on bubbly highgrade wishing for this weird nightmare to end. The more champagne was consumed, the more relaxed everyone seemed to get. Yard games were broken out and people began mingling. Optimus stayed right where he was.

At some point Sentinel had stomped off to sit somewhere quiet, leaving his mate behind with everyone else. She had been remarkably quiet the entire time.

Sighing, Ratchet stood up and headed to the kitchen wanting a moment with a little distance. He muttered something about being back in a little bit before heading inside for a little bit. He headed into the living room, sitting down on the luxurious sofa. The silence washed over him like a refreshing rain. He ran his hands over his face. How was he supposed to take this? So much information at once, so much to process…

So Optimus definitely hadn't been raised with an easy going environment. So much for growing up with a silver spoon in his mouth, it must have been more like choking on a silver spoon. He certainly hadn't accounted for his sire being a royal pain. The amount of condescension was irritating, he didn't know why Optimus hadn't snapped sooner! And he had dared complain about his parents? Sure, he might have been run ragged in his youth with his family's business but his parents had been nothing but loving and worried about his well-being for the longest time.

He had been watching his face the entire time trying to figure out which faces were real and which were facades. With this kind of context it was easy to conclude that it probably didn't matter because if he had been trapped with that kind of tension for years at a time, he probably didn't know how to put on a real face. He knew that he probably wouldn't…

"Excuse me?" A soft voice asked.

Ratchet snapped his head up upon hearing it. Standing in the doorway was Sentinel's mate, Optimus's carrier. She had sat through that whole ordeal earlier, totally unfazed. Completely stonewalled. She gave him a soft smile and walked up to him. "May I sit?" She asked.

"Of course, I'm sorry, I must have been lost in my thoughts. I didn't hear you come in," he replied.

"That's quite alright… I'd like to apologize on Sentinel's behalf. He didn't use to be like this. He's grown to be quite an angry and bitter mech. Often he doesn't realize the damage he causes because he truly thinks that he is in the right. He believes strongly that tradition protects us. It was not right of him to lash out. I'm sure it wasn't a comfortable thing to watch," she replied sitting on the couch next to him.

Ratchet hummed. "That isn't something you should apologize for…" he replied softly.

"I'm aware," she chuckled softly. "I still do because it gives me a sense of peace. I'm powerless in stopping Sentinel but I can help repair what he breaks… How rude of me, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Zeta," she said.

"Zeta… it's nice to meet you," he replied softly.

She nodded slowly. "I've been in your situation before…" she murmured. "Decacycles ago… Sentinel was not yet Sentinel but was named Sigil and his sire was Nexus. Nexus was also a strict, overbearing sire as Sentinel is."

"I never would have imagined I'd find myself here…" Ratchet admitted softly.

"How are you and Optimus getting along?" She asked gently.

"We tolerate each other… well… he tolerates me. He's 'intrigued' with my presence," he replied slowly.

"Oh?" She chuckled. "Intrigued?"

"That's what he told me," he replied. "I can't figure out what kind of quip that was. Should I be happy that I'm entertaining?" He asked with a mild huff of sarcasm.

She chuckled again looking down. "You're an enigma for a lot of reasons. Your behavior is consistent no matter who you're talking to, this conversation is proof. You are fully aware of who I am, and yet you put no extra effort into giving me extra respect because of my name. It's not something you see often when you're someone who has power," she replied. "Optimus was brought up with maids and servants to address his every need and want. They spoke softly to him and they held their tongues around him. He's always been put on a pedestal and treated like one wrong move towards him could cause catastrophe. He's never been treated like a mech before. The fact that you simply handle him like another stranger, tolerating him rather than pandering to him is interesting."

"Hmf… when he said that to me we were eating dinner. He'd made me food from my home."

"Home?" She inquired.

"Crystal City," he chuckled. "I'm kind of hard to get along with, I realize. He had made this nice meal for me out of sympathy, knowing that I didn't want to be there and the first thing I asked him was if he was trying to impress me, and I certainly wasn't nice about it."

She chuckled. "Optimus tries to impress a lot of people."

"I can tell," he hummed. "He also offered me the master berthroom. I told him to keep it…mostly out of spite."

She hummed faintly. "You feel guilty now, after what you saw," she said softly.

He reluctantly nodded. "I… I do… I'd made a lot of assumptions…"

"It's natural. I did the same…" she said softly. "An arranged bond can cut really deep, because it takes away something that you never had. It can be agitating and uncomfortable to be upset about something that wasn't there."

"Hm… I didn't ever really think to want romance or anything of the sort before… I was always so busy. So busy doing things and going to school, and being a doctor…" he said softly. "I haven't had this little to do, really ever. Even in childhood, it was a constant whirlwind of work. Go to school, work at the restaurant, do the homework, and repeat. I just never had the time… never had the mind to spare…"

"It is odd. You're whisked away and then you have nothing but time on your servos for weeks because you have to remain a secret. You can't be seen moving back and forth, it would draw attention. Only so many times you can clean and rearrange," she chuckled.

"Yeah…but this feeling when I'm talking to him. Something just… doesn't click. We can make small talk, but it's like we're waiting on someone else… it creates this tension and it becomes unbearable…sickening…"

"It's like it's choking you, isn't it?" She hummed.

Ratchet looked down at the ornate rug on the floor. "I really don't like choking on it… it's miserable and I wish I knew how to fix it…"

She sighed softly. "I've never been ambitious. I've never really wanted anything but to just float through my own life. I have precisely three accomplishments that I'm proud of. I gave birth to two beautiful children. I raise Elita to be ambitious and bold and unafraid while I am timid and fearful. And I raised Optimus to be gentle and self aware and soft while his sire rampaged around us. I couldn't save him from everything, but he is nothing like the mech I bonded to…I hope that is a comfort for you."

He looked back up at her. "I've… never been so much as interested in another mech. What am I supposed to do with this? How do I make this… not so tense, not so… so awkward?" He asked.

"I made the mistake of being a pretty decoration for a prince. I didn't engage with him at all and it is what makes me powerless to rise against him today. You ask what you should do, I say don't be afraid of Optimus like I was to Sentinel. Being a Prime makes you bitter if you do it alone… I have no right but I implore you. Talk to him. Complain. Share something. Do an activity together. Just….Talk. It helps everything. It makes him feel like less of a stranger, it makes you feel like you're trying. Makes the house seem like less of a bird cage. It even makes it easier to pretend like you love him in public because the public can't tell the difference between flirtation and friendship. Even if you're not wanting romance, friendship is always nice," she chuckled.

Ratchet chuckled. "I suppose you are right, yes… but where would I start?" He chuckled.

"Send Red to a general store. Get one of those stupid magazines they have at the checkout counter, half of them advertise relationship stuff. Look for some ice breakers in those. Optimus has tons of hobbies, inquire about one, or even show him what you like to do," she replied with a small smile. "If you show you're interested then he'll do half of the work," she chuckled. "But the best thing you could do is to try and be a little kinder."

"You know… I think I'll do that. I really appreciate it," he replied with a small smile. "Thank you. I really mean it."

"You're more than welcome," she chuckled. "I'm always here if you need any advice. But in the meantime, I believe there is some more champagne calling my name."

Ratchet nodded standing up. "Indeed," he chuckled. Zeta also stood and they walked out together.

When they got outside, the others were engaged in a very competitive game of croquet. It was particularly amusing because she had just learned how to play and Hide was just awful at it. Magnus was in second place and Optimus was clearly winning.

Ratchet chuckled softly, walking over and taking a seat in one of the chairs they had dragged out, Elita sitting beside the only free one.

She looked over with a small smile. "Hey, there you are. We were wondering where you went."

"Yeah, I just needed a minute in some quiet," he chuckled.

"That's fair. Magnus is like that too sometimes, I get it," she replied. "Sorry about sire, he's been like that for as long as I can remember.." she said softly.

"It's fine, believe it or not I used to deal with a lot of people who were like that. The trick is to remember that you aren't in charge of what they're saying to you and it's their fault for messing up," he replied. "How are you doing after that?"

"I'm fine. We were expecting something like that. Like I said, he's always been like that... I'm mainly just proud of Optimus for standing up to him. It's the first time I've seen him go toe to toe and not back down from sire," she chuckled. "Time away from the palace has done him a lot of good. I'm sure you're familiar with the whole getting away from a place of trauma is the first step of healing," she replied with a small rye smile.

"That is very true," said Ratchet, looking onto his family trying to figure out how to beat Optimus in this game of his. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying beating them because they didn't understand how to hit the ball straight.

"Are you adjusting well?" She asked with a small smile.

"I'm… adjusting," he chuckled. "It's a little difficult," he replied, sitting back in the chair.

She smiled and nodded looking onto the game. "I really appreciate this," she commented.

Ratchet turned to look at her, a little confused with her comment. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

She chuckled, shaking her helm, resting a hand over her midsection. "I appreciate your agreement in this," she clarified. "If Optimus was unable to find an arrangement in time then it is likely that I wouldn't have the time on my hands to be a decent parent and a decent leader… Some people just aren't cut out to do both, and I'm certainly one of them. I owe you a lot," she murmured, turning her helm to meet his optics. "So thank you, for the chance to break the cycle my family goes through.

Ratchet blinked at her. He didn't really know what to tell her, other than a soft, "It's no problem," before turning back to the game. They continued to chat quietly.

The sun fell lower in the sky, and the stars slowly began to peek out from the darkness. Sentinel and Zeta had departed before the sun burned the thin atmosphere of the planet to reflect its color and Magnus and Elita left shortly after.

Red had shown the guests into their respective rooms while Ratchet began to help clean up alongside Optimus. Optimus plucked the stakes out of the ground from their game and gathered the lawn chairs to put safely inside the shed that sat on the perimeter of the fence.

As he watched his future mate stride across the yard his words rang in the back of his helm once again. 'You intrigue me…' It held a bit deeper meaning and didn't seem like a jab at him anymore, after having seen a page out of his story. Zeta and her kind advice gave him insight. A little bit more of a reason to reach out…he just had be be a little kinder. How hard could that be?

He slowly cleared the plates away, putting them into a pile. How was he supposed to reach out? He had been cold and distant for the entire time the entire time this mech had known him… and he was just now trying after that whole scene? That would most certainly come off as weird… But maybe it would come off as sympathy… Was that weird?

"Ratchet?" Optimus asked quietly. Ratchet jumped a little. He had been too deep in his thinking again… "Are you alright? You've been staring at that plate for a while…"

"Oh um…" Well, this was a chance. He had to make something up, but what could he say that wouldn't make him feel like he was pitying him? Connection was hard, how did he ever end up with any friends at all again? "…just thinking… your family seems interesting…"

Ratchet immediately wanted to slap himself. That was the best he could do? After that disaster?

Optimus looked down at the table. "Yes… I suppose 'interesting' would be a word…" he said softly, beginning to pick up silverware.

He felt a pang of guilt in his spark. He didn't mean to remind him of what had happened.

"I mean- your mother in particular has a lot of helpful advice. I'm not very good at speaking to people you see. Not in a very gentle way, anyway. I'm known for being rather… brash with the press," he said slowly. "She gave me a few pointers on how to deal with the inevitable attention that I'll be getting over the next few months."

"Oh. Well I'm glad you enjoyed her company," he said softly, picking up the rest of the dishes and heading inside. Ratchet followed him, walking beside him. He put the gathered plates in the sink and began to fill it with water. The silence between them began to grow into that familiar tight feeling in his throat.

"So… um… you're pretty good at croquet…" he commented slowly grasping at strings. Why didn't he bother to make a note of anything…

"I suppose, yes… it's hardly a fair comparison playing next to people who've never seen the game, though," he replied, shutting the tap off and beginning to wash the dishes.

"Here… I can help dry…" he offered, grabbing a hand towel and taking whatever was in the rack already and beginning to wipe away any remaining moisture.

Optimus eyed him cautiously, becoming a bit more aware that Ratchet was still choosing to be around him, rather than retreat to his room. "You.. don't have to…"

"It'll make it go faster. Besides, it's not like I have anything better to do…" he chuckled awkwardly.

Optimus eyed him again but didn't push the matter and continued. Sounds of soft clinking and scrubbing filled the tense silence between them. Ratchet desperately tried to come up with something else, something a little more packed to say…

Optimus sighed pulling the drain on the sink, and handed him the last plate. Ratchet was just about to admit defeat as he grabbed ahold of it gently, but- Optimus didn't let go to hand it to him. Instead, Ratchet met his optics staring down at him.

"Why are you acting so strangely?" He asked softly. There was no malice behind his inquiry, but it lacked a soft knowing smile. "If… If this is about my sire, I don't… He's always been like that and I promise I'm fine, but I don't want to talk about it."

"It's not entirely about that." He replied looking down.

"Then what is it?" He asked with a little irritation slipping into his voice like a drip of water. "You're acting odd, what for? If you want to say something, just say it…like you usually do…"

Ratchet looked up at him again. That face could hide the hurt all it wanted but his optics made it clear. He sighed, letting go of the plate, and setting the towel down.

"Look… I'm not good at this. I don't know how to speak in subtleties and subtext. I tried to approach this gently, but it's eating at me so I'm going to be blunt," he chuffed. "I owe you a few apologies," he said softly.

He seemed taken back by this, if the change in expression was anything to go by.

"I come from a low caste background, and I faced many hardships growing up with not quite enough money or power or help. And sometimes, it feels as if higher caste can never understand the meaning of hardship at all. I understand you don't want to talk about it from your end but what happened with your sire today opened my optics; I forgot that trauma doesn't solely belong to those who are lower. I made several assumptions about you. As someone who advocates fiercely for equal treatment of the castes, I apologize for my ignorance and hypocrisy. I am sincerely sorry for the assumptions I made…

"I also apologize for my attitude. I can be kind of obnoxious and difficult to get along with. It didn't occur to me until today that this may have not been your first choice either. You were very kind and patient with me from the beginning and I was being rather ungrateful for it. I… I didn't even try, but from now on I'm going to try to be a bit kinder to you."

Optimus seemed pretty floored with this. His optics trained on Ratchet, still holding the plate as it dripped water onto the floor.

He stared at the little puddle it made on the tile as he spoke. "I also want to be transparent. You certainly don't have to forgive me for being an ass but I feel like you should know I don't like the weird dynamic we have...I don't think you do either? I don't want to spend the next dozens of decacycles in this sickeningly awkward and tense silence in a house that's too big… I told you I wasn't going to be a pretty face to pander to you, but I also don't want to be a bird in a pretty cage- so… This is me trying to let you know I'm ready to try to make this work a little bit better…? and I'm bad at this, so I ask for a little bit more patience if you can… or you can just say no if I've been too much of a jerk but…ugh.." he sighed, rubbing at his temple. He was giving himself a headache with how awkward he felt. He looked back up. "Do you like coffee…?" He asked a little breathlessly with an awkward look.

He blinked, staring at him for a good few moments, processing. He glanced down at the plate, bringing it to hold in both hands before looking up.

"Yeah… I do like coffee," he replied with softer optics than any of the other times Ratchet had seen him look at him.

"So… do you maybe want to try to talk for real over some coffee…?" He asked, hopefully reaching behind his head and scratching.

He thought about it for a moment before nodding and giving him a small smile. "I think that might actually be nice," he replied.

"Good! Good… um… I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning then… here. For coffee," he said slowly. "I'm going to go to my room now… um… yes. Good Night, Optimus," he said softly, backing away a few steps.

"Good night," he replied softly.

Ratchet met his optics awkwardly one last time before nodding and walking past him to go to his room.