Double Sided

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This chapter is a little longer than the norm. But hopefully its still entertaining. Love to all!

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"What do you mean you can't?" Sunstreaker snapped, nose to nose with Ratchet.

"As in, I do not have the parts to fit a Lamborghini," Ratchet said in a slow draw, not backing down from the golden tornado.

"There are three of us on base," Sunstreaker gritted, optics reflected back to him in Ratchet's own optics.

"I know how many slagging Lamborghinis there are!" Ratchet snapped, his fist shaking beside their heads to emphasize his point. "The fact remains that while you slag up your systems more often than most, the humans who supply our parts are limited with their generosity." Ratchet explained. "I just don't have the resources. I have to factor in everyone's frame and compatible parts. I can't special order something until its a matter of life and death."

"But, we're on a planet full of resources," Sunstreaker said, not backing down from Ratchet glare.

"We are allotted only a certain amount of supplies from the local Earthen government," Ratchet said, sounding disgusted.

"We need the parts to maintain our health," Sunstreaker growled, now feeling irked toward the human race. He always felt that way. Didn't take much provocation.

"I make due with what I have," Ratchet said, trying to hide his own disgust at being given handouts from strangers. It was demeaning and humiliating.

"Well see," Sunstreaker hissed, whirling and disappearing through the med bay doors. He opened a comm. to his twin as he stalked to his destination.

'Sideswipe, I need your help with something.'

'Oh, If its a prank, count me in,' was the immediate response.

'Nothing funny. This is serious.'

'Oh, never mind. Count me out.'

'I'm not joking.'

'That's part of the reason why I don't want in,' Sideswipe retorted. He felt the anger and aggravation filter over the bond. More than the usual. It caused him to twinge in pain. 'What's up?'

'I may need you to cover my shifts next week,' Sunstreaker said. 'If I can't get Prowl to change the schedule, I'll need someone to cover for me.'

'What do I get out of it?' Sideswipe asked.

'You will have your own assignment,' Sunstreaker said, ignoring his brother. 'I have money from the paintings I sold. I want you to do some investing.'

'Oh?' Sideswipe said, now interested. He had a rare gift in figuring out which stock was going to take off.

'Pick some investments,' Sunstreaker said, turning the corner and heading down the long corridor to his destination. 'Fast returns first, then larger, grander scale later.'

'Can do,' Sideswipe said, cutting the transmission to begin his research.

Sunstreaker slapped the orange door as announcement of his arrival. Without waiting for affirmation of entrance he hit the door lock and opened the door.

Prowl looked up from his reports, his face set in the stern lines he wore when addressing certain Lamborghinis.

"I didn't grant permission to enter," he said, as Sunstreaker crossed the threshold.

"Don't really need your permission,' Sunstreaker said, standing in front of the desk, his face serious. Such expression drew Prowl's attention. He put down his datapads and gave Sunstreaker his undivided attention.

"If this is something for your brother," Prowl started, but Sunstreaker cut across.

"This doesn't concern Sideswipe, at least not directly, well maybe, a bit directly, but most of its indirect." Sunstreaker babbled, frowning then sighed with the summation, "It's both. Direct and indirect."

"My processor hurts," Prowl said, rubbing his temples. The twins had a habit of causing such affliction. They were carriers of aches and pains. And dementia.

"I need a week off, maybe two," Sunstreaker said.

"And why would you need such an extended vacation?" Prowl asked, very interested in what Sunstreaker would be doing in that time.

"Personal reason," Sunstreaker's expression turned dark, foreboding.

"And if I grant this leave of absence?" Prowl said, look not displaying frustration over the lack of answers he was receiving. "What would be the criteria in which I would grant such a thing?"

"Look, I cover for mechs all the time and have pulled my share of boredom duty," Sunstreaker said, giving Prowl a glare that matched the one Prime could throw your way if he was pissed enough. It was a rare look from him. On Sunstreaker, it looked natural. "Sideswipe can cover the few odd shifts for me, but I need some time off."

"I'm assuming for health purposes?" Prowl asked, brow ridge arched in skeptic display.

"Yes," Sunstreaker said, not finding joy in the startled look Prowl wore. "If I don't get the time off, I'll terminate someone."

"I can grant one week," Prowl said, pulling out a datapad from subspace and opening the duty roster. He already had the next three moths planned. This was going to throw his calculations off. "But two would be pushing it. I'm sorry."

"You can put me on the schedule but I won't show up," Sunstreaker said, "Put Sideswipe in on my shift. He can pull the occasional double. I've pulled them enough covering for his drunken aft."

"Very well," Prowl nodded, amending the schedule and bringing up the schedule list for the next month. "When do you wish to enact this request?"

"Tomorrow," Sunstreaker said, earning noise of protest.

"That doesn't give me enough time to redo the schedule," Prowl said

"Make it work," Sunstreaker said in a nonchalant, commanding tone before spinning and heading to the open door. He paused o the threshold and added, "And Sideswipe needs some time for correlating data. Don't ask questions. Because I don't want explain it and I shouldn't have to. But this will benefit all. You have my word."

Sunstreaker shut the door on a very stunned Prowl. He felt a burning along his neural circuitry. It was a familiar path when the twins were involved in something that set Prowl's sensors on edge.

The next morning the duty roster had went out. Mechs complained about the shift and now two were going to miss important events they had planned to attend. No one noticed Sunstreaker's name missing from the list. That afternoon, Sunstreaker left base without word of his destination. He returned that evening, looking exhausted but gorgeous, as if he wasn't driving through dusty streets and pitted roads. Sideswipe was hid away in their shared quarters, books and old newspaper print scanning through TeleTrans reader and storing the data for analyses. He barely acknowledged his brother as he entered their quarters and collapsed on his berth. He was in charge in a matter of seconds.

Sideswipe busied himself with the reports and financial sections of the top newspapers. Having access to Sunstreaker's bank account, he was able to get the funds transferred into the four 'quick return' stocks he picked out. He was going to give them a month before pulling the money and reinvesting. There were two major stocks he was eyeing but the timing had to be right and his circuits didn't itch with anticipation. Which meant the stocks weren't ripe yet.

Three days, Sunstreaker rose early and departed the ARK and returned after dark. Red Alert was more than suspicious and only after a long lecture by Prowl did the white Lamborghini calm down enough to not sound the alarm when Sunstreaker left at dawn on the fourth day.

Prowl thought he had the situation in hand when there was a Decepticon attack and the Autobots rolled out. Sideswipe opted to remain at base and offered to direct troops to necessary positions. Red Alert was sequestered in his security room and kept his attention centered on Sideswipe, who kept multiple screens running during the incursion. When the bots returned, many wounded, Red Alert immediately commed the commanding officers and demand they take action against Sideswipe.

Sideswipe was at the monitors when Prime limped up to Sideswipe, Prowl and Ironhide flanking him.

"Sideswipe, care to elaborate on what you were working on while we engaged the Decepticons?" Prime asked, keeping his voice neutral. It was odd that Sideswipe opted to remain at the monitors instead of jumping on the front line. Many mechs had mentioned this fact, which lead to the discovery that Sunstreaker was absent as well.

"I was monitoring the Decepticons location and transmissions from Tele-Tran," Sideswipe answered truthfully. "I was in constant contact with Prowl as he reassessed tactical coordinates."

Prowl offered a nod. Sideswipe had been a constant voice in his helm as he formulated new tactical advantages during the battle and used Tele-Tran's more powerful transmitter to broadcast to the troops to avoid Soundwave's interference. Sideswipe even had insight on possible Decepticon tactics which were implemented and lead to the Cons defeat. Sideswipe had saved a lot of lives with his foresight.

"He is speaking the truth," Prowl said, sending a data burst to Prime with a full report.

"Where's your brother?" Ironhide asked, optics narrowed. It wasn't often one was seen without the other.

"He's taking a few days off for personal reasons," Sideswipe said, giving Ironhide a cool look. "You know how volatile he gets and he figured it was better to go and blow off some steam so none of you would get caught in his rage."

Ironhide looked a little uncomfortable. He had witnessed Sunstreaker in one of his rages. And had suffered damage because of it. There were times when Sunstreaker just lost all control, and it was better that he was by himself lest he hurt those he lived with. Sideswipe liked to joke that it was Sunstreaker's 'werewolf' phase and he needed to lose himself to his animal side.

"When will he be back?" Prime asked, having not read Prowl's report. The SIC realized it too because he sent a reprimanding look toward his leader.

"He's back every night to charge, then leaves early in the morning," Sideswipe reported.

"He is on sabbatical for two weeks, or until he feels he is stable enough to return," Prowl said, giving Prime the reasoning behind the Lamborghini's absence.

"And what else is going on?" Prime asked, his optics boring directly into Sideswipe's.

Such scrutiny would send lesser mechs quailing but not Sideswipe. He matched his leader's glare, unaffected by the look and gave a partial shrug.

"Sunny wanted me to make some investments for him," he answered. "He has some money acquired from selling his paintings."

"And he wished you to invest…. Now?" Prowl asked, now finding the minute cracks in the twins' stories. Something was starting to twinge his circuits.

"Maybe he's looking into retirement?" Sideswipe offered with another shrug. "I don't know everything that goes on in my brother's processor."

Sideswipe had to quell the irritation that accompanied that statement. In truth, he didn't know what Sunstreaker was doing. He kept his vocalizer off and shut his side of the bond, preventing Sideswipe from any emotional peeks.

"If Sunstreaker was up to something unsavory, you would tell us, correct?" Prowl asked, sounding hesitant. This was Sideswipe he was talking to... about his twin.

"If something was going to get anyone hurt or killed, yes, I would tell you," Sideswipe said, feeling disgruntled that the commanding officers forgot one important detail. "You forget who holds Sunny's violence in check and spars with him to ensure he doesn't hurt anyone else."

All three mechs were chastised. Sideswipe hid his smugness behind a dark expression.

"Red's spazzing out again," Ironhide supplied with a sigh, looking to the other officers.

"I will deal with him," Prowl said, turning on his pede and taking his leave. Sideswipe noted the multiple welds that ran along Prowl's shoulders and a doorwing.

Ironhide sighed, looking to Prime. "Ratchet's pitching another fit."

"See what you can do," Prime said, nodding in dismissal.

Ironhide walked away, his joints squeaking a little on the left side. Prime waited until he was alone with Sideswipe and added, "Sideswipe, what is Sunstreaker up to?"

"I really don't know, Sir," Sideswipe said. He touched a sequence on the control panel and brought up one of the small boxes that indicated his extracurricular work. "He's wanting Earth money, and as fast as he can get it."

"Think he's into something illegal?" Prime asked, leaning against the consol. His busted leg gave a hiss in protest at the shift in weight.

"It's not Sunny you should worry about illegal activities," Sideswipe smiled before returning his attention back to the screen. "And so far, he's given no indication that he has ill intent."

Prime regarded the red Lamborghini for a moment. The screen lit up Sideswipe's features as his optics darted between the main viewing screen to the smaller screen that held human stocks and notations.

"If anything comes up, feel free to come speak to me," Prime said, pulling himself upright and wincing at the protesting joint. "My door is always open."

"I appreciate it but it's not necessary," Sideswipe said without looking away. His servos flew over the controls and manipulated the screens with such speed and accuracy, Prime was lost and dizzy.

"The offer still stands," Prime reminded the Lamborghini before taking his leave.

Sideswipe continued his work, his circuits singing with the news that two of his stocks had doubled in price. He was going to wait until that tingling happened along his neural relays before selling out and reinvesting in the next stock.

That evening, Sunstreaker didn't return. He sent a hasty message to his twin about his need for solitude and assurances that he had a place to charge. Sideswipe acknowledged the message, still unable to detect his twin through their bond. With heavy steps he went to the quarters he shared with his brother and curled up on Sunstreaker's berth. Charge didn't come easy and Sideswipe was short tempered for patrol the next day.

When Sunstreaker returned late the following evening he went to his berth and curled up, ready for a long charge in his own berth. Sideswipe's giddiness was detectable for the last five miles to base and Sunstreaker knew as soon as his brother was relieved of duty, he'd make a beeline for their quarters. Two hours later he wasn't disappointed. Sideswipe landed on top of him in a ruby mass of metal and relieved spark. Sunstreaker felt guilty about not sharing the details of where he was or what he was doing. He didn't want Sideswipe to know, lest he think less of him. And when he slipped out of their quarters early the next morning, he wasn't expecting the pang of distress that Sideswipe sent upon waking and finding his brother already gone.

'Sorry, Bro, but I won't be back for a couple of days,' Sunstreaker said over the comm. when Sideswipe battered at Sunstreaker's defenses in retaliation.

Sideswipe knew something was up from his brother's usage of the human term. Sunstreaker didn't like to abbreviate words and the human quirk irritated him to no end.

'I just need some space,' Sunstreaker said, feeling guilt wash over him. It was hard to quell the feeling and he worried that Sideswipe would sense it and come after him. 'I have a lot on my processor and I can't figure it out at the base.'

'Without me?' Sideswipe's presence was timid, hurt.

'We all have things we must face alone,' Sunstreaker said, sending a pang of affection toward his twin that was followed by annoyance. Sunstreaker didn't like to show affection, no matter if it was physical or emotional. He believed such things were weak.

Sideswipe knew there was nothing he could say or do to bring his brother back. Sunstreaker had done such a disappearing act before. Several times in fact. Sideswipe chalked it up to an artist's quirk, not wanting to delve into psychology and find answers he may not like. But he granted Sunstreaker his space. But that only extended so far.

Then he'd chase his brother down.

'Be careful,' Sideswipe offered with one final push of adoration toward his brother.

Sunstreaker begrudgingly accepted the affection and returned it before shutting down all transmissions.

Sunstreaker wasn't gone for two days as he said. He was gone for five. On the fourth day of his absence the Autobots were called out again to assist with a Decepticon attack. Sideswipe abandoned the monitors and went straight for the front line, cursing the entire time. The bots sent the cons retreating back to Nemesis with very little cargo, but many of the mechs had suffered heavy damage. The action did little to assuage Sideswipe's mood. He was still surly, foul tempered, and paced circles inside the ARK. He was like a double of Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker had sent audio and spark transmissions, assuring his brother of his continued survival and updates on returning home. Sideswipe wasn't amicable to such transmissions. He was furious and promised his brother a good throttling upon his return. That garnered a warm thrum of genuine affection that startled Sideswipe off his tangent.

Sideswipe was beside himself with grief, taking to pacing the ARK at all hours and becoming short tempered. Bots forgot that Sideswipe shared his brother's violent nature.

On the sixth day, just before noon, Sunstreaker come rolling in. Without warning, Sideswipe left the monitors, thundered down the hall, greeted his brother with a shuddering fist to the helm before pulling him into a tight hug.

"Knock it off," Sunstreaker griped, slapping at his affectionate brother. "Mechs are watching."

"Don't care," Sideswipe said against Sunstreaker's helm fins, his embrace tightened ever so slightly. "I should beat you for being gone so long."

"I needed the time,' Sunstreaker said, tweaking a wire to make his brother let go of him. Honestly, the mech could act like a straight jacket on a mental patient!

"Well, you better not have one of these episodes again anytime in the near future," Sideswipe warned. "Else I'm coming with you even if I have to get Ratchet to weld us together!"

"So much for alone time,' Sunstreaker quipped, earning another smack from his twin that turned into a hug, though this one more lax.

"What if a Con found you?" Sideswipe asked in a hushed tone.

"I'm a big bot, I can take care of myself," Sunstreaker said, sending a flare of irritation through the bond. Before Sunstreaker could continue, his comms went off.

'Prowl to Sunstreaker.'

'Yeah?' came the annoyed affirmation.

'Are you prepared to return to duty or do you still require the last two days of your requested leave?'

'Still need the leave to catch up on charge, and effect a few repairs,' Sunstreaker answered, Sideswipe babbling away and not catching the internal communiqué going on with his twin. 'I could take some monitor duty tomorrow evening if necessary.'

'Take all the time you need,' Prowl said, sounding uncharacteristically understanding.

Sunstreaker gave a stretch, his joints cracking and hissing.

"You need to see Ratchet," Sideswipe said, linking arms with his brother and marching him to med bay.

Ratchet took one look at the two patients and let loose a verbal tirade that made the twins proud. The Pit Master himself couldn't have done a better job of blistering paint. The verbal assault doubled when Ratchet scanned Sunstreaker's frame and found numerous injuries.

"I don't know what you were thinking!" Ratchet yelled, pointing to a berth and shoving Sunstreaker onto his back with a firm hand on his shoulder. The yellow mech landed with a bang of metal and threatening growl that Ratchet ignored as he continued. "It looks like you went off-roading with Hound, which I know you wouldn't do. Ever. So tell me, what slagged up your systems so badly?"

"Thought I'd have a little fun," Sunstreaker said, wincing when Ratchet removed plating with his usual, gentle bedside manner. Equal parts homicidal rage and acidic tenderness.

"Fun?" Ratchet fumed, hooking into Sunstreaker's systems for a diagnostic of his systems. They were even more slagged than his frame. "You know I don't keep spare parts for your frame type! So stop slagging yourself up and expecting me to work miracles with tin foil and duct tape!"

Before Sunstreaker could retaliate Ratchet had started his shut down sequence. He fell into oblivion with a raging white ghost looming over him, optics piercing his very soul and making him wither.

The next day Sunstreaker woke up to find Sideswipe passed out beside of him. He sighed, staring up at the ugly orange ceiling, Sideswipe curled against his side on the berth that meant only for one patient at a time. Sunstreaker considered mentioning to Ratchet they need a wider berth, but he had a feeling such a suggestion would get him beaten. Again. His systems showed the signs of repair but they weren't anywhere near the standard for his frame type. But, like all things, it would have to do. He had fought in worse condition in the Pits. And Ratchet's work was certainly better than any questionable medic in the Pits.

Not that Sunstreaker would admit such a thing aloud.

A noise to his left drew his attention. Sunstreaker gave a start upon seeing the other patient.

Bluestreak was on a berth, facing Sunstreaker. His optics were closed in slumber, his vents offering a soft flutter. Wires and tubes ran all over his body. One doorwing was suspended from the ceiling via a strange contraption Ratchet had devised. The edges were ragged, dried energon crusted the normally grey paint. His right servo was crushed, the armor along his right arm sporting dents that looked like a triplechanger's pede.

With a grunt Sunstreaker lifted himself up on the berth, Sideswipe releasing his hold and curling into the warm place his brother vacated. The upright position granted him view of the ward and all of its patients. Judging by the fresh leaking energon from two unconscious Autobots, there had been a battle while the twins had slept.

Powerglide was passed out on a berth, Ratchet and Wheeljack flanking him as they both affected repairs. Everything looked normal until Sunstreaker noticed Wheeljack's lopsided swaying and Ratchet's worried look to his long time friend and patient. Wheeljack ignored the look and continued working.

The next berth sported Windcharger, who lay in silence, surrounded by a halo of glass. Sunstreaker guessed the minibot was in stasis until Ratchet could work on him. The next berth was Mirage, who had his left side mismatched with stripes of welding scars. The primer showed through from dozens of scratches, some of the gouges going deep and exposing circuitry.

Sunstreaker's gaze drifted the minibot sitting up on the berth, his arms crossed, his expression dour, a pede missing.

"And where were you?" Gears asked in an accusatory tone, staring right at Sunstreaker. "Three battles against the Cons and you weren't there. I find that strange."

"Still your vocalizer," Sunstreaker warned, his anger bleeding through the bond and causing Sideswipe to come up off the berth, poised for battle.

"I find it odd that you disappear and we get our afts beaten," Gears continued, earning a warning growl from Ratchet. He didn't like where the minibot was going in his inquiries. "So, if you don't have anything to hide, where were you?"

"I don't answer to you," Sunstreaker said, his optics shining with the urge to fight. "I have already cleared my leave with Prowl. If you don't like it, take it up with him."

"I'm taking it up with you,' Gears pressed. He didn't see Ratchet put down his tools and turn, giving him a glare that would melt lesser alloys. "Where were you and what were you doing?"

"That is none of your business," Sunstreaker said, getting off the berth. His systems were showing degradation, but he was still fit enough to whoop a minibot.

"I think it is," Gears continued. "I think I should have a talk with Prime."

"Go ahead, Pest," Sunstreaker snorted and much to everyone's surprise he turned and left the medical ward without a backward glance.

Sideswipe stayed long enough to glare at the minibot who was staring open mouthed, like Ratchet and Wheeljack, and added, "Keep it up and a missing pede will be the least of your worries."

Sideswipe found Sunstreaker in their quarters, the golden mech going over the money transfers and stock trades that his brother had made in the past two weeks. Sideswipe's little insights had already doubled Sunstreaker's money. One stock in particular was doing phenomenally well. The portfolio on it already crested a hundred thousand dollars.

"Sell this stock and reinvest the rest," Sunstreaker said when his brother came in.

"But, that's the highest grossing," Sideswipe protested.

"Sell half and one of the others then," Sunstreaker said, rising from the desk and going to his berth. He was drained more than what he cared to admit. He sent a data transmission with details before adding, "Transfer into this account."

"Why?" Sideswipe asked, sitting down and working on the stock trade shuffle.

"Just do it, Sideswipe," Sunstreaker sighed, his optics powering down. "Let me know when the funds will be available."

"Should be in the account by days end," Sideswipe said, filing all the paperwork and getting the necessary clearances. When he was done he went over to Sunstreaker and without invitation, crawled into her brother's berth and powered down. Sunstreaker was unaware of his visitor, but his spark settled, soothing his processor for a recuperative rest.

The twins were rousted from charge by a pounding on their door. Sideswipe answered the door to find Red Alert fuming on the other side.

"Explain yourselves," he demanded, sparks jumping around his helm.

"In what way?" Sideswipe asked. He was too tired to get into another weird conversation with the fritzed mech.

"My records show that there have been several wire transfers into accounts and Tele-Tran confirms that you have been investing in the human stock market," Red Alert said. "Explain to me why you are doing such a thing or I'll go to Prime."

"Go ahead, get him!" Sunstreaker snapped from where he finally powered up and rose from the berth. "Tell him, and everyone else, that I'm calling a meeting in ten minutes in the Command Center."

"You can't call a meeting," Red Alert snapped, looking like he was trying to find a good reason to deny the twins such an audience. "Only members of staff and elected officials may call a meeting."

"Well then announce that I will hold an illegal gathering in the Command Center in ten minutes," Sunstreaker sneered before slamming the door shut on Red Alert's sputtering face.

"What are you up to?" Sideswipe asked, not sure if he liked this aspect of his brother's personality.

Sunstreaker went to the corner and loosed the panel that hid a vast amount of high grade. He downed a cube, feeling the charge ignite his systems and refresh his processor.

"Come along and all shall be revealed," Sunstreaker said opening the door and finding it devoid of white Lamborghini.

"Ohhhhh… you sound like a magician," Sideswipe grinned and followed his twin.

Much to the twins surprise, everyone was attendance, including Red Alert who was launching an argument against the twins calling for such a union. Prime was favoring the frantic mech with his usual patience, Ratchet sneaking up behind with a tranquilizer to mellow the bot out before he blew a fuse. When Red was dosed up and staring dreamily into space, Ratchet opening his helm panels and making a few minor adjustments, Sunstreaker started speaking.

"I'm not one to talk so I'll get to the point," Sunstreaker said, noticing Bluestreak leaning against Smokescreen, the other Praxian tenderly brushing the damaged door wing. "I have made some money selling my work to the humans. I asked Sideswipe to invest it for a quick turn around and as of right now, there is….?"

Sunstreaker looked to Sideswipe, wanting his brother to confirm the money deposit. Sideswipe grinned and added, "One hundred six thousand, two hundred and ninety-one dollars and fourteen cents in the account."

Sunstreaker offered a single curt nod then turned to Ratchet. "I am sending you the necessary information to access the account."

"Why?" Ratchet asked, accepting the message but not opening it.

"Consider it health insurance," Sunstreaker said. "Use the money in the account to purchase what you need to maintain our systems."

"The humans have been rather stingy,' Sideswipe added.

"You're donating…. This money… for … parts?" Ratchet asked, stunned.

"There are currently three Lamborghinis on this base and you have no parts to fit our frames," Sunstreaker said, his joints offering a grinding squeak as if in affirmation of the statement. "There are other sport car models but you lack the resources to properly care for your patients."

"So you… what?" Ratchet asked, still not believing what he was hearing. "You think Sideswipe's investments are going to be enough to take care of the whole slagging squad?"

"No," Sunstreaker said simply. "But this is a start. We don't have to rely on the generosity of humans to ration what we are allowed to receive."

"And all of this human money…." Ratchet said, waving his hand as though the commodity would appear out of thing air. "I am to use it to purchase parts?"

"For now, yes, just parts," Sunstreaker said, wincing when Ironhide's own squeaking body joined in his ill-set chorus. "Do not worry about oil and tires."

"Oh no, that's a whole new problem," Ratchet grumbled, remembering the cost of the racing tires the twins liked to use.

"Holy fragging joysticks!" Blaster shouted, his optics fixed on the small tv monitor that turned in to the local station so the bots could catch up on their soap opera.

"Now what?" Jazz asked, his request for replacement parts already sent to Ratchet and received with a vicious return ping.

"Check it out…" Blaster said with a grin, bringing the local channel into focus on the main screen.

The footage rewound until it showed a speck of yellow moving as a comet. Then the picture grew until it was unmistakably Sunstreaker. The golden front liner transformed in a flash of whirling gears and sparkling colors before landing in an attack posture, gun firing at unseen enemies. He spun, landing in a crouch, smoke issuing from his weapon, a deadly gleam in his optics as he stared down the camera. The scene faded on his handsome face, as the logo for an auto parts store superimposed on the fading Lamborghini.

"Premium Auto Parts is a proud sponsor of the Autobots and their affiliates," a female announcer said before logo and Sunstreaker disappeared.

"Sponsor?" Prime asked, giving Sunstreaker a surprised look.

"I had to make a deal with the Pit Maker," Sunstreaker sighed, feeling the last few days weigh heavy on his frame. "I did a couple commercials for them and they in turn give us all the tires and oil we need."

"You…. pimped yourself?" Sideswipe asked, sounding both distressed and admiring.

"I bartered," Sunstreaker said, giving his brother a dirty look. "And I need a non-sporty mech to go with me next month for the other commercial." He offered a shrug at Prime's curious look. "Something about the director wanting different types of frames to appeal to a larger audience."

"My brother," Sideswipe said, slinging his arm around his brother's shoulders and earning a warning rev. "A philanthropist and a hoe."

Sunstreaker punched his twin, sending careening sideways, knocking him into Jazz. The Porsche caught the Lamborghini and helped steady him.

"With parts and maintenance covered, the rest of my investments my idiotic half is doing, will go toward purchasing land," Sunstreaker said, feeling a surge of satisfaction when Sideswipe kept his distance. "I've already spoken to several human agencies and there is a chance we can purchase this area, at least after the zoning and committees are finished with their political slag. They should be calling within the month about purchase price and property boundaries."

"How big are we talking?" Ironhide asked. He felt cramped in the training room and the small makeshift shooting range next to the volcano could use some extra space.

"Depending on the committee's decision. Whatever they decide is fine because according to human laws, we as representatives of a foreign nation, are allowed to have property and certain amenities to institute a consulate."

"Huh?" Sideswipe asked, looking to Prime who was starting to smile.

"It means, Sideswipe, that we would have property that could be designated Cybertronian soil and the humans may not trespass on it until given explicit permission," Prowl said, giving Sunstreaker a calculating look. "How did you come up with this?"

"Just tired of getting hand outs," Sunstreaker said, his left side choosing that moment to creak in answer. "And our bodies aren't getting any newer. We require parts and a certain level of maintenance." Sunstreaker jerked his head toward Ironhide and added, "Older models need a lot of work."

"Slagging hilarious," Ironhide said but there was no caustic bite to his jibe. It would be nice to have a fully operational frame and not have Ratchet scavenging for parts in junkyards.

"So the oil and tires?" Ratchet prompted, his mind already filled with the prospect of having a med bay with actual, stocked parts that would help his comrades.

"Premium Auto Parts will be delivering a few cases of oil and ten sets of tires by week's end," Sunstreaker said. "I didn't have everyone's specifications, but they are sending a selection. Should have a delivery every month so you'll have to start making a list and setting up a schedule for everyone's rotations."

"You just did this so I would have more work," Ratchet grumbled, but his smile belied his grouchy mood.

"Well, at least you have something to work with," Sunstreaker returned the smile.

"How often are these deliveries and for how long?" Prowl asked, his battle computer up and running.

"Once a month for five years," Sunstreaker said. "And I'm obligated to four commercials a year on top of the three commercials that the rest of you will have to accompany me."

"We'll get tires and oil just to look handsome?" Sideswipe asked, adopting a cheeky look. "Mechs, leave everything to me. I'll have us in supplies in a week! Maybe less!"

No one took Sideswipe seriously. They all turned their attention away from him and regarded Sunstreaker.

"And there will be some officials getting in touch with you Prime about setting the base up as a consulate and the channels needed to get Cybertron recognized by the human governments," Sunstreaker put in, earning a flabbergasted look from Prime.

"If we're getting new parts, then I want new shocks," Mirage said, gracing Ratchet with a sharp stare. Ratchet had been denying the Tower mech his new shocks because the ones he wanted were top of the line and Ratchet didn't have the budget to work with. Now, the medic didn't have an excuse. Unfortunately all the Autobots realized this at once and the room filled with the demands of the walking wounded.

"I need new tires."

"I need a new oil pan."

"If Mirages gets the SuperShocks 6000, then I want a set too!"

"Can I get new woofers?"

On and on the bots argued, until Ratchet intervened.

"Everyone, shut up!" Ratchet yelled, his voice instantly garnering silence. When he was sure he had everyone's attention he added, "I have a list of everyone's parts needed to maintain their health," Ratchet sent a death glare to Mirage before continuing, "And those will receive top priority. If there is anything left in the account, then only the parts needed to reinforce structure or stability will be considered. Petty things like paint jobs, top of the line shocks and stereo upgrades will have to wait, or you can find a way to earn the money to pay for them yourselves. Either way, I will set up a time table allowing the most needy to get their replacements and repairs before those who wish only cosmetic upgrades."

Several mechs looked sullen but no one spoke. They knew better than to cross Ratchet. He may be their healer but he was also their 'Mother Hen', and his pecking was punctuated with a wrench.

"I will set up a schedule and will begin repairs tomorrow," Ratchet said, his tone meaning the end of the discussion and no arguments. He nodded to Prime and added, "I suggest we use your 'trunk'. Now, get moving."

Prime nodded, following Ratchet's command. Everyone knew that Ratchet had free reign and if they argued, he would put them at the end of the line.

Or weld something shut.

"That was most intuitive of you," Prowl commented so only Sunstreaker could hear.

"Someone has to have our long term needs in mind," Sunstreaker sneered with a grin. "If I left it to those in charge, nothing would get accomplished."

Prowl opened his mouth to retaliate but Sunstreaker was already sauntering away to enjoy the last few hours he had left of freedom. Then he would be spending countless hours making up for the time lost while he so thoughtfully gifted his comrades with continued health. Not only would Sunstreaker take down an enemy and a take bullet for his friends, but he was willing to degrade himself to allow his friends access to parts to maintain their health.

The golden Lamborghini was one of a kind.

And he just put his fist through Gears' face.

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Is it a wonder why we love him so?

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