Tempering the Sun
AN: Apologies to those I owe a chapter to! Your requests are still being worked on, I promise you! I just wanted to post a little bonus chapter to say THANK YOU because last month this story received 1008 hits! I am just in AWE! All these reviews and words of encouragement have not only lit a fire under my muse, but sends me into the stratosphere. I appreciate every one of you and send out massive, bone crushing hugs in thanks.
HUGE THANK YOUs to:
Rio Voltaire- Glad you liked it. Its great to know the chapters are still enjoyed. Sometimes I worry about 'over doing it' or 'underachieving.' Thanks for sticking with me!
DitzyMusicLover- I have a feeling Sunstreaker loves to paint skylines and landscapes. But Sideswipe doesn't have 'artistic talent' other than pranking and sometimes, he just needs a moment to sit back, enjoy the silence and watch the Earth in motion. Even a hyperactive Lamborghini needs to sit for a moment and recharge their spiritual batteries ;)
AD Axel- Well, as long as I keep getting positive reviews, I shall keep going. Its just difficult to come up with something different and hopefully, unexpected from time to time.
StarLitDawn- Well, you demanded, and I relented. LOL Glad you liked it. Now if my other endeavors receive half as much positivistic review, then I'll be one happy camper!
Blitz-Krazi-1- The reason I put 'one rainbow becomes two' is because this series is about the TWINS. I just thought it was a nice way of the Earth to reflect that, letting Sideswipe know that not only is HE welcome upon Earthen shores, but Sunny is too. Perhaps that's what Sunny was painting while in his studio?
Kimmie98- Yeah, I love rainbows myself. I'll sit and stare at them until they disappear. Such a marvel. God's little smiles on us and letting us know he's watching. (sigh)
Lambor Terror Lep- Yeah, Sideswipe needs a 'time out' corner. Rather odd he made it himself and sequesters himself in the alcove for some peace and quiet. Of course, he's still sensing his emotional twin, so its not like he's 'alone'.
Prowls-little-angel- *blush* Gosh.. THANK YOU! Glad you liked it. And I like the 'Sideswipeness'… GREAT description of the little prankster!
SEZwho94- Well, it kinda made sense to me. The Bots on Earth have been there for over 4 million years, and I see them now as the 'older models' compared to the young scrappy things now on Cybertron. Can you just imagine Sideswipe with a walker and yelling in a croaky type voice? LOL
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It was late at night. Quiet reigned in the Ark. A rare occasion. The recent Decepticon activity had been minimal, which prompted an impromptu celebration by the more social members of the crew. Jazz labeled it "Megatron got his aft kicked and is still recovering" party.
Such parties were always a welcomed relief. High grade flowed unchecked and unquestioned, much to Prowl's chagrin. Activities went unscheduled and unsupervised, much to Red Alert's fritzing protest and Ratchet's dismay. There was always a lot of confusion and regrets after such parties. And arguments about banning the events entirely, or making them a common occurrence so the crew could 'keep in practice'.
Most mechs had gotten overcharged on the high grade and went to sleep it off in their quarters, either alone or in confused groups. Others slept where they fell, recipients of disgusted looks from the only mech who didn't partake in the festivities.
Prowl wandered the base, ensuring all Autobots were still functioning and making notes about who overindulged and their current location. If there was an attack, however unlikely, then the tactician needed to know the level of inebriation of those who could fight. His tally so far for completely fragged soldiers was the entire Autobot forces. The total for able bodied mechs to fight, one. Himself. A scenario he didn't find comforting.
So far, the Second in Command had yet to find a suitable soldier. He shook his head in disgust. Fragging drunks.
Much to Prowl's disapproval, it had seemed that everyone had overindulged in the festivities. Even Prime was passed out beside of his door, his overcharge not letting him find the comfort of a berth before overtaking his senses.
Venting a sigh of frustration, the tactician headed for the rec room and wasn't surprised to find the room earning its moniker.
Some shredded paper littered the floor. Unknown stains mixed with the fading energon. Torn streamers hung like cobwebs, accenting the strange Earth phenomena that was always missed by the cleaning detail.
Spilled energon puddle on the floor, most of it frosted over with age. Empty cubes covered most of the surfaces, and someone had even constructed a small fortress out of the spent cubes. Not surprisingly it was Grapple, who snored behind his protective wall. Hoist was on the floor under the table, one of Grapple's legs held securely in the Hoist's embrace as he snored on his friend's knee.
Ironhide was passed out on top of his usual table. Gears and Windcharger were using each other as makeshift pillows. Blaster was upside down on the main stereo speaker, sound bytes escaping like musical snores and his left pede pulsing to an unknown beat.
All in all, a typical after party scene at the Ark. The only difference this time was the twins sequestered in their usual corner. Both were alert and talking in low tones. They quieted when they noticed Prowl's entrance. They instantly noticed he lacked the usual need to find something to help balance crazy equilibrium circuits. The reason was distressingly obvious.
"Surprise, surprise. Guess who didn't get hammered tonight?" Sideswipe muttered his brother, his mouth hidden behind his mostly full cube of high grade.
Prowl gave the twin terrors a barely perceived nod, then retrieved a low grade cube from the dispenser. He looked around the destroyed room and considered his options. None seemed appealing, and with a slight start, he noticed Sideswipe motion for the tactician to join them.
"Trying to join the party? Sorry to disappoint, but the fun is already over," Sideswipe said when Prowl neared their table.
"Someone has to keep a level head to ensure the safety of everyone," Prowl said, taking a sip of his fuel, though uncertain if he should sit.
"That's Red Alert's job," Sunstreaker grunted, high grade brilliantly shining off his armor. The shine accented his sharp features and gave him an unnatural glow that teetered between danger and beauty.
"He's….. busy," Sideswipe stage whispered with a cheeky look, earning another grunt from his twin.
"Pull up a chair," Sideswipe indicated one of the many scattered chairs, most of them overturned and filthy.
Prowl chose a chair that was unstained and still sitting on all four legs, and moved it to the table, his actions still a little hesitant. He normally didn't socialize with the crew members, preferring to remain aloof and disinterested. The only times he joined the groups that gathered off-shift was when Jazz physically dragged him from his office. The saboteur learned a long time ago (from some unknown source) that if you pinched a doorwing just right, you could get a Praxian to do just about anything you want. A fact he abused on many occasions.
"We won't bite," Sideswipe added, noting the commanding officer's uncertainty. "Well, I don't. Sunny does."
Sunstreaker curled his lip in a half snarl as he stared at the mech opposite. Obviously he was in his usual mood.
"So what do you say?" Sideswipe asked his twin as Prowl sat down at the table. "I do the floors and you pick up the empties?"
"Slag, no," Sunstreaker grunted, sparing his brother a disgusted look, before returning his gaze to his partially filled cube. "I just waxed. I'm not dulling my paint if I don't have to."
Sideswipe snorted and out of spite, swiped his finger down his brother's forearm. Sunstreaker hissed like an angry cat. If he had fur, it would have been puffed out in aggressive anger.
"Stop that, idiot!" he snarled.
"Now, you have a smudge. Help me clean up and I'll help you buff yourself into an indecent shine," Sideswipe cooed, giving his brother the sweetest look he could muster.
Sunstreaker considered for a moment, staring at the light streaking through the wax on his arm. He could use a heavy waxing and lately, Sideswipe had refused to buff the harder to reach areas. Sunstreaker may be perfect, but there were still flaws in his design. Well, not flaws, just problems in flexibility and accessibility. A gorgeous mech like him wasn't flawed in any sense of the term.
"We're not even being punished," Sunstreaker muttered, still thinking of a reason to get out of the clean up duty. "Why volunteer to work, especially when you weren't the one to make the mess in the first place?"
"It's just a nice thing to do," Sideswipe countered.
"I don't do nice."
"You would for me."
"Only so I can beat your aft later."
"You know I'll do a thorough polish on your back," Sideswipe continued, his expression turning cheeky.
Sunstreaker frowned. His brother had a point. Every time he helped Sideswipe, non-prank related, he did get to enjoy a thorough cleaning and polish. Nothing felt better than being buffed and polished, and looking so handsome it should be illegal.
"Fine," Sunstreaker relented. "But I want the good stuff and at least two coats."
"Done!" Sideswipe nodded before Sunstreaker could add more terms to the agreement.
"What are you two up to?" Prowl asked, having observed the conversation and felt unnerved by their actions. The twins never did anything without an ulterior motive.
"We take turns cleaning up the mess," Sideswipe half shrugged, gulping a good measure of high grade.
"Why?" Prowl asked, confused as to what could aspire the troublesome twosome to do something selflessly.
"That's what I wonder every time," Sunstreaker grumbled.
"Just our way of saying thanks," Sideswipe supplied, giving a partial shrug.
"Thanks for what?" Prowl asked, feeling a burning sensation coming from his battle computer. Jazz referred to it as his "Twin-sense" acting up.
"Watching our backs," Sideswipe smiled. "Keeping us out of trouble."
"We fail at that more often than I care to admit," Prowl muttered, drinking the rest of his cube.
"You succeed more than you realize," Sideswipe said, and all humor was gone from his voice and face. "Have you ever wondered why we stay? Why we fight against the Decepticons and not with them?"
The now empty cube in Prowl's hand made its slow decent to the table, black fingers curled around its edges. Prowl frowned, staring from one twin to the next, his mind a cacophony of previous conversations, orders, and the multiple times it had been mentioned the twins were more like Decepticons than Autobots.
Their allegiance was confusing.
"I thought it had something to do with Sunstreaker's paint," Prowl said without thinking. He was rewarded with a quirked brow from said twin.
"Well, in part," Sideswipe said nonchalantly, waving his hand and ignoring the tingle of surprise filtering through from his brother. "The other reason we don't fight with the Cons is they don't have any rules."
"What?" Prowl gasped, all pretense of hiding emotions now evaporated like the spilled energon pooled around the rec room. "You hate rules! You break them every opportunity you get!"
Knowing if he pressed the issue, he'd get the tactician to crash, Sideswipe had to choose his words with great care. Since he just healed from the last Ratchet induced medical malpractice, Sideswipe didn't want to push his luck. If he wanted the Second to understand, he was going to have to start at the beginning, lest the logic minded mech seated opposite would freeze. Then Sideswipe would have to endure Ratchet's tirade. One of the few things that made the frontliner wary.
"We break the rules because you insist we follow them," Sunstreaker said, his usually scowling features were now tinged with something akin to amicable mischief. He looked so much like Sideswipe at his most devilish, it was scary. Prowl gave an involuntary shiver at the thought.
Sideswipe sent his brother a look, partnered with a warning across their bond when he noticed the Praxian's actions. If Prowl locked up, Sideswipe wasn't going to take the rap.
Sunstreaker gave a lopsided smile and reclined in his seat, appraising the black and white mech with an artistic optic.
"Of course you have to follow the rules!" Prowl said, finding that burning sensation to be annoying. He had a feeling he would need to see Ratchet very soon. He was going to have to find something to ease the ache before it progressed too far. "The rules are there for a reason!"
"Which is?" Sunstreaker prompted, actually gracing the Praxian with a genuine smile.
"To keep order," Prowl explained, his processor already formulating vast amounts of data for interpretation. "To maintain discipline and ensure that all contingencies are delegated and protocols upheld to prevent loss of life and total chaos."
"Basically, the rules keep everyone civil," Sunstreaker said, not catching the fact this is the most he had spoken to anyone outside of his twin for over a month.
"Exactly," Prowl said, grabbing a partially empty cube from a nearby table and finished the contents off with two swallows. He grabbed another half empty cube and waved it toward the twins as he spoke, "Without rules, we would fall into mindless chaos, losing not only ourselves, but destroying everything around us and other lives in the process."
"The Cons don't have such rules and regulations,' Sideswipe put in, hiding his surprise at seeing the stoic tactician downing so much high grade.
"Of course they don't," Prowl said, then frowned, staring at his cube as if realizing it was there. He muttered in a distracted tone, "They have some kind of disciplinary structure, though I fail to formalize a coherent structure."
"The Cons survive through aggression, pain, dominance, and fear," Sunstreaker put in, his cube rocking in his grasp as he twiddled with the edges. "They have no sense of right and wrong, bullying their way through obstacles and using violence as a way of communication and obtaining what they want."
"Precisely," Prowl said, feeling a warmth spread over his frame. He took another drink, finding the sensation to be pleasant. The cube was now almost empty. "They don't know right from wrong and lack any morals."
"Exactly like us," Sunstreaker said, nodding toward his twin. Prowl's optics shone a little brighter, though there was a chance the high grade he was unknowingly drinking had a part in it. "We lack what you could call a 'moral compass'."
"We grew up in Kaon, on the streets," Sideswipe put in, getting very relaxed with the conversation that normally had all other mechs shying away from the twins. Their history had a tendency to rub them the wrong way. "We didn't have anyone to teach us what was right and what was wrong."
"But you do," Sunstreaker added, nodding toward Prowl as if he was the epicenter of their morality. "You make sure we know the difference and even go so far as to reprimand us." He gave a small smile, "No one has ever done that for us before."
"You want me to punish you?" Prowl asked, feeling that burning along his processor again. But it was filed away in his processor as a pleasant buzz filled his sensor net. He looked curiously into the empty cube now in his hand, wondering if the sweet concoction had anything to do with his current talkative mood. He normally adopted Sunstreaker's own quirk of rarely speaking or interacting with anyone. Apparently taciturn patterns were forgotten when distracted by a drunken crew…. And that delicious pink sweet stuff that tingled along his relays.
"Not punishment per say," Sideswipe said, regaining Prowl's attention. "Just someone to tell us what we can and can not do."
Sunstreaker added, "And let us know there are consequences to those choices."
"And to instill a sense of guilt and remorse," Sideswipe picked up.
"And to let us know when we've gone too far," Sunstreaker said.
"Keep us from hurting not only those we care about, but ourselves as well."
"Someone to let us know when we have done wrong."
"And that our transgression deserves reprimand."
"Our anger gets the best of us and we tend to forget our purpose," Sunstreaker put in, noting how Prowl's optics darted between the twins as they spoke in the jointed language that had other's feeling dizzy.
"We need someone to tell us where the boundaries are," Sideswipe put in.
"And warn us not to cross them."
"Because we will lose ourselves."
Sunstreaker waited until Prowl's brightened optics drifted back to him and said in a slow, even tone, making sure the officer understood where the twins were coming from. "Sometimes, we need someone to tell us when to stop."
"Because if you don't tell us, we become just like the Cons," Sideswipe said, and there was real grief in his expression.
"You may think we don't listen, but we do," Sunstreaker put in, downing the rest of his cube in one gulp. He sat the cube back on the table and gave the tactician his infamous scowl. "Just don't start feeling all superior because you act as our conscious, because slag like that will get you fragged up."
"Oh, my little ball of Sunshine,' Sideswipe crooned, earning a punch to the shoulder. "I do love it when you act all macho."
"Shut up, idiot," Sunstreaker snapped, nodding toward the rec room as a whole. "Shall we get started?"
"Yeah, might as well," Sunstreaker agreed with great reluctance.
The twins rose from their table, Sideswipe giving Prowl a nod before leaving. Sunstreaker just scowled, wondering if the tactical advisor would remember their conversation when his extra charge wore off. Prowl's optics was a bit on the bright side.
Prowl watched the two depart, the burning in his processor faded, replaced by a warm tingling. He frowned, wondering what caused such a sensation and decided that he could best contemplate in his quarters. He rose, wavering a little and made his way to his quarters, where he fell unconscious on his berth. Prowl's tolerance for high grade was non existent, which was why he never indulged. He fell into a deep charge, the twin's story looping through his processor.
When Prowl disappeared through the door, Sunstreaker turned to Sideswipe.
"I hope you didn't break him," he said, his optics catching the slight sway to monochromatic hips.
"He'll be fine,' Sideswipe said, tossing a few empty cubes into the recycling bin. "I'll check on him in a couple of hours."
"Good," Sunstreaker grunted, returning to the pile of empty cubes around Grapple and tossing them to his twin for disposal.
The twins worked in silence, cleaning up the mess left by their comrades, and in Sideswipe's case, posing certain bots in compromising situations and taking images for blackmail later. They scoured the room for any mess that needed attention, Sideswipe snickered and gave his brother another one of his infamous smiles that meant no good was churning in the devilish processor. As Sunstreaker mopped up pooled energon, he heard smothered laughter and looked to survey his twin's handiwork on their comrades. The twins may do the honorable thing and clean up after their friends, but it didn't mean they couldn't have some fun at said friends' expense. Hence, Sideswipe's favorite pastime while attending the after-party clean up.
Sideswipe ventured to Ironhide and removed his interface panel. He grabbed a collection of streamers, and tied them in a bow, presenting the slumbering mech with his own spike as a present. Next, Sideswipe went to Grapple, removing his interface panel, placing it between Hoists' legs and wedged the slumbering bot with his head directly between Grapple's legs. Blaster was scribbled on, his interface panel directing everyone to 'Press here for a good time'. Cliffjumper was graffitied with a realistic pair of human female breasts that Sunstreaker gave the thumbs up to in artistic approval. Gears was drawn with a very tiny human male penis, which Sunstreaker thought deserved to have a matching copy made on the mini-bot's aft.
By the time the twins were done, the room was put back in order, but their comrades were in various states of risqué poses. Satisfied, they took their leave, knowing that when the ARK awoke for the start of a new day, the crew would be seeking two guilty Lamborghinis.
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Do you honestly think the twins would do ANYTHING out of the kindness of their sparks and not get SOMETHING in return? (blackmail anyone?)
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Requests should be done sometime this week, real life permitting.
Future chapter requests/suggestions are still welcome.
