How To Install A Sunroof In A Lamborghini
Pre-Earth
I know the twins weren't Lambos while on Cybertron, but the title fit so bear with me.
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"I'm telling you, that Praxian fragger has optics in the back of his helm!" Sideswipe griped, stalking down the hall with his twin at his side.
Both were just relieved of the medical ward, Sideswipe under strict orders not to instigate another argument with Prowl. Or else the warrior's dented aft plates would have to remain until Ratchet deemed him chastised. The threat and the pain didn't dissuade Sideswipe. He intended on showing that Praxian that wiped the floor with him, exactly what as it like to cross a Pit Fighter who wouldn't be so lenient next time.
"Slagger," Sideswipe grumbled, hobbling due to the healing nature of his damaged aft plates.
Sunstreaker walked in stride, his face quirked into a faint smile. He could feel the pain bleeding through the bond but it was easily blocked. Sideswipe's pride was hurt more than his aft. But if Sunstreaker admitted, seeing his brother go flying over Prowl's form only to have the Praxian somehow gain the upper hand and have the red warrior on hands and knees before planting his pede on the tempting aft, Sunstreaker couldn't stop replaying the mental movie. It was very entertaining.
"We need to get that fragger," Sideswipe said, fist curling at his words.
Sunstreaker ambled along, lost in his own recollections and making sure to keep his end of the bond clamped shut, lest Sideswipe try to throttle him in his charge for sensing his amusement.
"Are you with me?" Sideswipe asked, turning an expectant optic to his twin.
Sunstreaker kept that smirk on his lip plates as he gave a curt nod, agreeing with his brother out of habit.
The next day Sideswipe hid in a supply closet, and sent out a comms to the SIC. He waited for his Praxian prey to fall into his clever trap.
Prowl was privy to the prank and sent an unsuspecting Ironhide to the supply closet, where Sideswipe jumped out and earned a mighty punch in the face plates. As he reeled in pain and shock, he was grabbed and thrown against the bulkhead, landing on a bent leg and twisting it at an odd angle. He staggered to the medical ward, Ironhide berating him with every step and Prowl greeting the two at the med bay doors.
"Problem?" Prowl asked, his face set in a passive expression. On the inside he was laughing his doorwings off.
"Just a minor misunderstanding," Ironhide said, hoping to cover his blunder of beating up a subordinate.
Prowl didn't seem to mind. He gave a nod, a ghost of smirk on his face, before leaving the fuming warrior to the clutches of the resident medical psycho.
Sideswipe hobbled back to his quarters later that evening, his busted leg keeping him immobile and off the duty rooster for the next two weeks. When he planted himself heavily on his berth, he winced, lifting his leg into a relaxed position and sent his brother an irate ping. Sunstreaker answered, not bothering to look up from the datapad he was currently examining as part of his maintenance detail. His work soon became forgotten as he relived the events of Sideswipe's most recent encounter. When the bond flooded with pain from Ratchet's delicate beating, Sunstreaker's optics narrowed.
"Fragger thought it was funny," Sideswipe said, wincing when his leg made a sickening grind when he tried to move it.
"I heard there are a dozen more Praxians that joined our base,' Sunstreaker put in, finding the scene to be hilarious though he didn't want to add to his brother's torment. At least not yet.
"Great. All I need," Sideswipe said dramatically, throwing his arm over his optics and falling back onto the berth in defeat. "More of the slaggers running around."
"Praxus has fallen," Sunstreaker said, knowing his twin wasn't privy to the info due to his medical incarceration. At the mention of the notorious city, Sideswipe perked up, his arm falling away as he turned his helm toward his brother.
"You serious or just wishing out loud?" Sideswipe asked. It was hard to tell with his brother. Sometimes Sunstreaker was speaking the truth. Other times he was speaking what was on his mind and they normally weren't bright, happy thoughts.
"I heard about it at the end of shift," Sunstreaker said.
"Well, they better stay out of my way," Sideswipe said with dark intent. "I'm going to get that fragger if it's the last thing I do!"
Sunstreaker nodded in ascent, knowing there was a high probability that Sideswipe was plotting his doom. Sunstreaker went back to his menial task of overseeing the datapad contents, a part of him was wondering what it would be like to be an only child.
Sideswipe couldn't stay idle for long. On the third day of his 'rehabilitation,' he was found instigating a makeshift race with a couple of heavy transport mechs. Ratchet dragged him by the scruff bar to the medical ward and induced a stasis lock, ensuring the warrior stayed off his busted leg.
Sunstreaker enjoyed the peace and quiet. It was sad, knowing that it wasn't going to last.
And sure enough, as soon as Sideswipe regained consciousness with a completely healed body, the twins were called to the front lines, where Sideswipe destroyed his shocks thanks to a careening jet. Sunstreaker had endured having his beautiful paint blistered along his chassis from a missile that got a little too friendly with him. But when Ratchet finally excused them for rehabilitation in their own quarters, both were happy to oblige.
Sideswipe hobbled due to the newly installed shocks. His systems were having difficulty in integrating the new parts.
Sunstreaker was holding his servos over his chest like a bashful femme, hiding the fact that his usual immaculate golden paint was peeled and blistered, the primer showing through in a large patch dead center to his chest. The missile had erased his Autobot sigil. Now Sunstreaker was looking forward to reapplying his paint to his precise and immaculate condition before venturing from his quarters. No mech should see him like this.
Just as the two rounded the corner, Sunstreaker lost in thought and Sideswipe concocting the next brilliant plan to get his nemesis, both skidded to a halt. Sideswipe grabbed his twin and pulled him back to the shelter of the corner. Both peered with wide optics at the black and white doorwinged mech standing near the other end of the hall.
The Praxian stood outside of the door to the armory, his black paneled door wings arched high and fluttering in gentle bobs. His hands rested on his hips as he stared at the door as if expecting it to open at his verbal command.
"Prowl sure looks annoyed," Sideswipe said from the distance where the twins were watching.
"I thought he was just black and white," Sunstreaker said with a narrowed optic. The frame seemed different to him. Sunstreaker's artistic optic caught the subtleties. "That's not Prowl."
"Sure it is," Sideswipe said, grabbing his brother and pulling him away from the corner. The mech in their crosshairs slipped from view as they retreated. "He's doing his wings a little different but it's still him. I know his build."
"So do I and I'm telling you, that is not Prowl," Sunstreaker said, running a visual comparison in his processor.
"He can't hide from me," Sideswipe said, narrowing his optics toward the corner where his biggest enemy stood unaware.
"Different colored chevron, longer, tapered fingers, accents of purple along the torso and he holds his wings different," Sunstreaker said, mentally ticking through the differences.
Sideswipe made an obscene noise, waving his servo at his twin.
"He's just redone his paint job and wants us to believe he's one of the new Praxians that just arrived so he can thwart my plans," Sideswipe said with a knowing expression.
Sunstreaker frowned, still evaluating the mech he saw standing in the corridor outside of the armory. It was odd that the mech was standing there. He seemed nervous and unsure. Definitely not Prowl's demeanor.
"What about Prowl's sigils?" Sunstreaker asked. The usual adornments on Prowl's body were missing from the other black and white mech outside of the armory.
Sideswipe waved his hand again, thinking his brother was just nitpicking, as usual. "He's painted over them. Trust me, that's Prowl. He just wants us to believe he's a new recruit.''
"I don't know…" Sunstreaker said in a slow drawl. Something was gnawing at his circuits. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was something really important.
"You know I'm right," Sideswipe said, crossing his arms and giving his brother a glare that meant the golden mech should be supporting his brother in every way. "If we think he's new, we'll take him into our confidence. Then when we tell him of a prank we wish to pull on Prowl, the slagger will know about it and can throw us in the brig."
"We?" Sunstreaker asked, giving his twin a death glare. "What do you mean, 'we'?"
"You're in this with me," Sideswipe said, pointing a finger at the chest plate that lacked its usual golden hue. "Whether or not you help me, I'll tell Prowl you helped me plan it and you'll get punished too."
"How is that fair?" Sunstreaker snarled, his fist curling at his side and ready to strike.
"Life isn't fair," Sideswipe singsonged, quirking that irritating look at his brother.
"So no matter if I'm innocent, I'm going to be punished for whatever idiotic prank you pull?" Sunstreaker asked, taking a threatening step toward Sideswipe.
"That's what Prowl deems as logical," Sideswipe said, throwing the hated word in the conversation.
Sunstreaker scowled. Every time he or his twin proclaimed a strategy or alternative to a retreat, Prowl always shot down the twins' suggestions. His favorite phrase involved a lot of 'logic.' And a lot of angry stares from two irate front line warriors. Why Prowl never took their personal experience into consideration, they never knew. But he loved to shoot down their ideas, claiming it wasn't the logical thing to do and that they had no clue as to the progression of battle and strategic defense.
Those little slights against their abilities are what started the whole "Get Prowl" campaign. The twins, mainly Sideswipe, felt the tactical officer needed a lesson in how to operate with loose cannons. One couldn't plan for everything, so ergo, all things could be considered when in the thick of battle. Why Prowl had yet to learn this lesson was a mystery.
"You're too blatant in your approach,' Sunstreaker chastised.
"Oh, and you think another way would be better?" Sideswipe asked, peeking around the corner to monitor his target.
"Nothing wrong with stealth and subtlety," Sunstreaker amended. Both twins could move as silently as Prowl, though the Praxian could always detect their mischievous intent. They took his aptitude as a personal insult.
"Prove it," Sideswipe said, nudging his twin with his shoulder.
"I don't have to prove anything to you." Sunstreaker countered, feeling that sensation filter over the bond that meant Sideswipe was itching for a good prank. It wouldn't go away until he was satisfied.
"I say you do." Sideswipe tittered, giving his twin a smug look when he felt the mental scratching at his mind. He knew Sunstreaker was getting annoyed. And the sure fire thing to get him worked up, was to tell him he couldn't do something.
Oh, this was going to be good!
"Well, you're an idiot," Sunstreaker said, his hand rubbing his chassis to quell the feeling. It didn't work.
"But I get the job done," Sideswipe goaded. "I can pull a prank and scare anyone. Even got Prime a few times."
"Jumping out and screaming for a Con attack while the mech is half terminated from exhaustion is NOT a way to entertain yourself." Sunstreaker groused. He had endured scrubbing the washracks for quite some time after that little incident, Apparently when Prime was undercharged and underfueled, his humor was lacking. Prowl's too for that matter. And Ironhide. And Ratchet. It was a nasty cascading effect that made the twins miserable for some time, despite Sideswipe laughing about the menial duty and grumblings of innocence from his brother.
"Now's your chance," Sideswipe said, jerking his helm toward the corridor where Prowl frowned at the door, trying a new access code.
"Why would I attempt such a thing?" Sunstreaker asked, sending hatred to his twin. It was absorbed and reflected with a gooey, sweet sensation of love. Sunstreaker resisted the urge to gag.
"If you surprise Prowler," Sideswipe said. "And you can get him to make a sound louder than a stern lecture, I'll give you what ever you want, no questions asked."
"Anything?" Sunstreaker asked, now intrigued. Some private time would be nice. His brother tried his patient circuits and it had been far too long since Sunstreaker had any true peace, quiet, and relaxation. The offer was tempting.
Sideswipe held back the urge to grin, feeling his brother's attitude change. One just had to know how to handle the sociopathic artist.
"Fine," Sunstreaker said, rising to the bait. "If I can get him to raise his voice or make any type of facial expression other than boring blandness, I want our quarters for a month!"
"A month?" Sideswipe said, looking perplexed.
"You can charge only, but during waking hours you avoid our quarters and leave me out of your pranks and give me some peace and solitude." Sunstreaker laid down the ground rules for their little wager.
"Fine" Sideswipe grumbled, knowing he'd be inching his way through the door and his brother would be none the wiser. Sunstreaker was a very focused mech when it came to perusing his artistic endeavors or immersing himself in music. He became a completely different person when left unmolested by his brother.
Sideswipe peered around the edge of the corridor, noting the disguised Prowl was fumbling with the lock on the wall. With a beep the lock gave and the mech gave a happy exclamation and stepped inside.
"He's distracted, come on," Sideswipe said.
Sunstreaker gave a nod to their agreement and stepped around the corner. His pedes made no sound as he ventured down the hall, Sideswipe sneaking along as a brilliant red shadow. When the two were outside the door, they heard muttered words and the sounds of metal clanging. Apparently Prowl was looking for something and not finding anything to suit his needs.
Sunstreaker looked over his shoulder to see Sideswipe give him the positive go ahead on his scheme. Both missed the sound of clattering weapons and the high pitched whine of a new battery cell fitting into place on a rifle. Sunstreaker counted off, his optics locked onto his brothers. When he reached three he jumped into the open doorway, bellowing like an enraged animal.
A satisfying shriek pierced both brother's audios before the sound of a blast echoed in a cacophony in the room and out into the hall.
Sunstreaker's arms dropped to his sides, his expression going from wild maniac to stunned confusion. A curl of smoke issued from his chassis, dead center in his chest. He looked to the wide optics of the Praxian, who he was positive now was NOT Prowl in disguise, and fell in slow motion to his knees.
"Oh Primus! I'm sorry! I was getting a new battery cell because my other one lost its charge because I used it during the last battle and took out forty seven Decepticons and you know these things don't have a high charge to begin with so I was really lucky to get as many shots off as I did, and thank Primus, they were all kills, not that Prime is happy about it but I mean, we didn't suffer so many losses but I still shouldn't have put my finger on the trigger because we're on base and its safe and there's friends and no reason to keep your guard up and because its not like anyone's going to attack." The mech rambled.
Sunstreaker felt a wave of cold steal over his frame, his spark stuttering. This was definitely NOT Prowl.
"Sunny!" Sideswipe yelled, kneeling down beside his twin and looking at the hole blown in his brothers chest. The shot went straight through the middle. Had Sunstreaker been his usual immaculate self, it would have removed the Autobot sigil from the golden chassis. Sideswipe opened a comm. to Ratchet as he started into the unwavering gaze of his twin. 'Ratchet! Sunny's been shot! We're on our way!'
'You slagging idiots! I just released you!' Ratchet yelled over comms. "How did you get injured by walking back to your quarters?!'
Sunstreaker opened his mouth to speak but only static came out. He struggled to form words, but could only manage a weak beep. His gaze locked onto his brothers, his spark speaking louder than words. The pain was crawling along his plating now that the initial shock started to wear off. Sideswipe gave a clipped nod and in one fluid motion, scooped his twin into his arms and started running to med bay. His gait was uneven and rough, his shocks still not integrated enough to ease his pedefalls. The mech who had shot Sunstreaker followed along, still babbling though neither twin paid him any heed.
When the twins burst into the medical ward it was to find the resident demon in full ranting, protective mode.
"Place him on the stabilizing berth and get the slag out of my way!" Ratchet snapped, pushing a cart over that held diagnostic machines. If Sunstreaker's spark decided to sputter, Ratchet wanted to be ready.
Sideswipe stepped away form his twin and assumed his role as observer on the wall but the Prowl wannabe went to Sunstreaker's berth side and grasp his limp servo.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking into Sunstreaker's dim optics. "I didn't mean to shoot you. Please, don't hate me. It was an accident. I promise I won't do it again. I just…"
"Bluestreak, get back!" Ratchet snapped, making the Praxian falter in his monologue and shrink back from the rebuke.
"Bluestreak?" Sideswipe said, sounding like a question. The designation was correct as the Praxian looked to him in response, his face twisted in misery. Sideswipe placed his arm around the drooping shoulders, his gaze going to his twin and the wide open hole he could stick his fist through. "Sunny will be okay. Ratchet's the best."
"Slagging morons," Ratchet groused, connecting leads and preparing Sunstreaker's frame for a shut down to repair and replace the damaged circuits. Thankfully Bluestreak's shot had only grazed the main fuel line, but didn't rupture it completely. Nor breached Sunstreaker's spark chamber. Both were a minor blessing.
Sunstreaker felt his systems start to shut down, Ratchet's presence thundering and virulent in his consciousness. He looked to his brother, static spitting out of his vocalizer before he was able to force words through his lips.
"I hate you," Sunstreaker said before his optics dimmed and Ratchet threatened to dismantle to the two hovering bots if they didn't allow him space to work.
When Sunstreaker woke from his extensive surgery, it was to find the Praxian seated beside his berth. His plating was now painted grey, red accents glittering in nice contrast. He was reading a datapad, his doorwings fluttering with emotion as he read. He glanced over with bright, sapphire optics, his face lighting up in relief.
"You're awake!" Bluestreak said, putting his datapad in subspace. "I'm so glad. Ratchet said you could be out for another few cycles, but I was hoping you'd wake up while I was here."
Sunstreaker groaned, cutting off any verbal commentary. He looked to the other side of his berth and found the spot vacant.
"Where's Sideswipe?" he asked, his body sore and aching all over. It was usual for the other twin to be seated close by when the other was under Ratchet's tender mercies.
"Brig," Bluestreak explained. "Prowl threw him in there when he realized I shot you by accident and Sideswipe had admitted to setting you up to scare me, thinking I was Prowl which was a fair assumption as we both have the same build, though his doorwings are much more eloquent than mine and…"
"Bluestreak?" Sunstreaker said, remembering the mechs name as he was drifting into stasis before his surgery. "Stop talking."
"Sorry." Bluestreak said with a duck of helm. "I can't help it."
Sunstreaker looked around the medical ward and found them to be alone. Apparently there was no incursions during his emergency medical procedures. He checked his chronometer and realized it was very late, going into fourth shift. The ward was powdered down to a lower setting, the only light available at Sunstreaker's medical berth.
"Why are you here?" Sunstreaker asked, wondering why the strange Praxian was keeping vigil.
"Well…. I shot you," Bluestreak said, his cheek plates heating to an uncomfortable level. "I didn't think you should be alone."
Sunstreaker graced the blushing mech with a half smile, silently thankful his vocalizer didn't prattle on with a long winded explanation.
"How long have you been here" Sunstreaker asked, noting there was a an empty cube on the stand behind Bluestreak's chair.
"Any time when I'm off duty," Bluestreak said, adverting his gaze. He had heard of Sunstreaker's temper and was waiting for the fires of the Pit to be unleashed upon his helm. It was the least he could endure for nearly ending the golden mech's life. "With Sideswipe in the brig, there would be no one here to watch over you and since it was me who put you in danger, it should be me who watched over you until you recover."
Sunstreaker stared at the strange mech, trying to gauge his intent. Most did things seeking favors. Everyone did something for a reason. But Bluestreak's timid, naive nature showed no untoward intent or ulterior motive. He was genuinely worried about Sunstreaker.
"You don't have to stay," Sunstreaker said, suddenly feeling self conscious around the mech who felt obligated to watch over him while he recovered. It was an unnerving sensation.
"Oh, but I want to," Bluestreak said, looking to Sunstreaker and blushing. "I mean….I don't mind. It's my fault you're in here so its the least I could do."
"It's my brother's fault," Sunstreaker said. "Had he not wanted to get Prowl so badly, he wouldn't have set me up."
"He was really upset," Bluestreak said. "Please, don't be mad at him. He just wanted to play a joke. He didn't mean for you to get hurt."'
Sunstreaker gave Bluestreak an incredulous look. The Praxian was younger than Sunstreaker thought. If he didn't understand how Sideswipe operated, he was going to get quite the education.
"He's not going to be happy until he can get Prowl," Sunstreaker sighed, wanting so badly to move but his body was still heavily sedated.
"Get him what?" Bluestreak asked, his innocent face alight with curiosity.
"Primus, you're young," Sunstreaker said, feeling like he was talking to a sparkling.
"Just upgraded," Bluestreak said, his expression dropping from charming innocence to devastation. "A couple of joors before the Decepticons attacked."
Not knowing what to do, or how to soothe a shattered spark, Sunstreaker redirected the conversation away from the emotional stuff.
"I meant, Sideswipe wants to get Prowl in a prank," Sunstreaker said, hoping to see the pain of war erased from the naïve Praxian. It didn't seem right for one so young to carry such a burden.
"Why?" Bluestreak asked, the horrors of war slowing ebbing from his face.
"My brother is an idiot," Sunstreaker confided in his new friend. "He thinks everyone should have a laugh, especially at their own expense."
"That's horrible," Bluestreak said, now looking distraught. Would he be a victim of Sideswipe's humor?
"That's Sideswipe," Sunstreaker added, shaking his head. "He believes it's his mission to make everyone laugh, even if they can't see the humor in his jokes."
"And he believes he can sneak up Prowl?" Bluestreak asked, his lip plates quirking slightly with the hint of a grin.
Sunstreaker caught the distant twinkle that fought to come back to the young mech. "Yes. Why?"
Bluestreak snickered, that light fanning to life in his optics and making him return to innocence. "Praxians have sensors in their doorwings. We can sense everything around us, from currents, electrical discharge, spatial displacement, and the more attuned mechs can even sense a spark beat."
Sunstreaker's expression was priceless.
"There's no way to sneak up on a Praxian," Bluestreak said with a true, genuine smile that reached his optics. "We can sense you coming before you're close enough to get the jump on us."
"Well, that's going to make it more difficult," Sunstreaker groused, a frown marring his handsome features.
"Difficult?" Bluestreak asked.
"When I get out of here I'm going to murder my twin and I have every intention of burying him with a certain Praxian," Sunstreaker growled.
Bluestreak's face flashed with anguish but he pushed away his emotions, centering on the thing that confused him.
"Twin?" Bluestreak asked. He had never heard the term. He briefly wondered if it was a rare affliction, his body tensing as he started to calculate the chances on it being contagious.
Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, unsure what he should divulge. So far only the main command crew knew of the twin's unique physiology, their spark signatures dampened thanks to well learned lessons. If they didn't want you to know they were near, neither twin openly broadcasted their signal. Those who didn't know of their abnormal lives just thought they worked for Special Ops, practicing their stealth maneuvers out of habit.
"Our spark split into two," Sunstreaker said, gauging Bluestreak's reaction. "We are two beings with half sparks."
"Not possible," Bluestreak said, giving Sunstreaker a look that meant he thought the golden mech was pulling his plugs.
Sunstreaker lowered the dampening field and watched as Bluestreak's optics went wide, his door wings flaring out, the appendages humming with sensory input. They were sensing the spark anomaly lying before them.
"Primus,' Bluestreak whispered, his doorwings vibrating with the intensity of his focus. He looked like he was being electrocuted. "How can you function?"
"Apparently we beat the odds," Sunstreaker said, wanting to shrug but finding his body sluggish. "Which works to our advantage on the front lines." When Bluestreak's face turned anxious and stricken, Sunstreaker frowned. "What's wrong?"
"I could have terminated both of you!" Bluestreak's voice was barely a squeak. His optics was creased in blame and worry.
"You could have killed anyone!" Sunstreaker said, not seeing what had the young mech so terrified. Yes, he had shot Sunstreaker. Yes, it could have terminated him. But it truth, it could have happened to anyone. Sunstreaker was just the idiotic fool who listened to his brother and startled the skittish mech when he was dealing with a firearm. It wasn't a smart combination. Sunstreaker should know better. So shouldn't Sideswipe. Neither was educated.
"I meant, if I terminated you, then if you're half a spark, then doesn't that mean that Sideswipe would be terminated as well?"
"Didn't think of it that way." Sunstreaker muttered. Another facet of their lacking education.
"Oh, I couldn't bear it if I terminated you two," Bluestreak said, looking to be on the verge of tears.
The mech was seriously distraught and obviously young to so willingly display such emotions. He seemed more like an overgrown youngling instead of an upgraded adult. Sunstreaker felt the need to consol the trembling mech, his optics remaining transfixed by the fluttering doorwings. He never realized how captivating they were. And expressive. Did Prowl display his emotions with the bobs and sways of his doorwings? Sunstreaker never noticed. He most certainly would pay attention from now on.
"We are shot at every day," Sunstreaker said, hoping to quell Bluestreak's distress. "We're front liners. We expect the laser fire."
"Not from your own side," Bluestreak said, miserably. His doorwings slumped in defeat.
"It could have happened to anyone," Sunstreaker said, hoping to bolster to wretched mech. He looked so forlorn that Sunstreaker was feeling sorry for him. And he didn't like feeling that! That was Sideswipe's forte. "Just, promise me you'll be more careful in the future."
Bluestreak gave a forced smile. "I promise to Primus."
"It really could have happened to anyone," Sunstreaker repeated, hoping the information was sinking in. Sunstreaker couldn't stop the quick inspection of the mech's frame, noting the lack of dents, scratches, dings, and other injuries sustained out on the battlefield. Out of some curiosity he couldn't explain, he asked, "What is your specialty, so I know what to avoid?"
If Bluestreak drove a specialty vehicle, Sunstreaker wanted to make sure he was on the other side of the battlefield.
Bluestreak offered sheepish look, his doorwings dipping in gentle bobs. "Umm, I'm a sniper."
Sunstreaker felt as if Primus just sat on him. He closed his optics and sighed heavily through his vents. "Figures." His optics cracked just a fraction, looking into Bluestreak's anxious face before adding, "We'll be terminated before the Cons even reach us!"
Bluestreak looked thunderstruck, then upon noticing Sunstreaker's quirked lip plates, he allowed a soft chuckle to escape. His cheek plates darkened with embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck, breaking optic contact with the golden front liner. Feeling elated at the sense of ease, Bluestreak smirked, gracing Sunstreaker's inert body with a wicked grin.
"Well, your paint scheme attracts a lot of attention."
Sunstreaker drew up, stunned at the young mech's naïve face, grinning like a youngling who just found the goodie stash.
"Guess I'll have to keep an optic out for you. Just to make sure you make it back to base in one piece."
"Two pieces." Sunstreaker corrected.
Bluestreak nodded in agreement, remembering he would have to also be on the look out for the flame red front liner who was still incarcerated. They were, after all, a matched pair and it would be terrible to break up the set.
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Reviews are loved and just make the muse go all tingling in her happy place. ;)
