To all of my guests-Thank you all very much for all of your reviews. This isn't exactly my norm so I hope you all continue to enjoy this story and here is another chapter for you.

Thank you to all of my reviewers. The love you guys showed that first chapter was more than I expected but a nice surprise indeed. I'll keep going with this as the inspiration hits me. Don't know how regular the updates will be at this point but I shall try.

Chapter Warning/Tags/Kinks-None

Chapter 2-Ideas

The entrance to Iacon's newest tower was empty as the doors swished open to admit him. Wheeljack stalked up the long walkway, heavy pedesteps sounding throughout the great hall, until finally he was close enough to spot the other bot standing by the upper floor balustrade. He entered the lift, stepped out on the second floor, which was quickly becoming a storage area for all the data pads they had collected throughout their travels, and stuck a digit into the other mech's chestplate forcefully. "Next time you're gonna offer me up to a Con, why don't you let me know first so I can kick your aft and save myself a trip."

"I didn't offer you up. He asked me about meeting with you and when I found out for what purpose, I specifically told him how you would react. He insisted."

"And you could have told him to frag off," he said clearly unhappy with the other's decision even though he did take a step back to give him more room again. Wheeljack wasn't angry about the event per say, but he didn't like anybot thinking that they could decide what he would be doing, especially not now that there wasn't supposed to be any need for a leader. He had had too many commanders in his life already, and more than he could take just recently; what he truly did not need was Bumblebee trying to be another.

"Cybertron is free from war for the first time in eons and I am not going to do anything to potentially disturb the precarious peace we have established, particularly by telling Predaking to 'frag off.' I take it you said no to his request?"

"No, I told him I'd be happy to lie down and take it. Any way he wanted it too."

"Wheeljack, the war is over and I think right now you should focus on something else besides being a warrior, like high-grade and having a good time. I heard you were quite the partier before the war and even during sometimes," he said slyly, trying to change the subject. The sports car was not trying to be a leader, he just wanted all of the Autobots and even the Decepticons to work together now and renew Cybertron. Some of them were having a harder time adjusting than others, but Wheeljack would manage if he just stopped trying to fight everything that moved.

"And who told you that?"

"Bulkhead."

"Old wrecking ball, huh? Well we did used to go pretty hard." He seemed to think about it for a moment then said, "Let's scrounge up some high grade and have a party then. That'll give everybot something to do since they have been working so hard and they can mingle, which you seem to desire so much. You can even invite anybot you want and I'll play nice."

"High grade and a bunch of bots who, 1) mostly hate each other and, 2) have seen nothing but war for so long that the new definition of mundane is shooting things; I'm not sure that is the best idea."

"I think it sounds like a wonderful idea," came smooth vocals from behind them indicating the presence of another bot that their positioning sensors really should have picked up on before now.

"Knockout," Bumblebee said shaking his helm, "anything you think is a good idea is definitely a bad one."

Knockout sashayed up to the yellow bot, cocking his hip out to the side when he was right in front of the other, "Now, Bumblebee, I don't think that is fair. Perfect paint job, hot oil baths, smooth high grade, all excellent ideas." Knockout leaned forward a bit until his warm ventilations could be felt by the other's frame, "And better yet, two out of three of those can be shared, if you know what I mean?" The medic pulled back slowly smirking at the flustered look upon the other mech's faceplates and walked passed him trailing one clawed digit along the underside of the sports car's jaw strut, "You have my vote. Let me know when and where."

Bumblebee allowed his optics to follow the other's departure for a few nanoklicks before turning back to find an amused looking wrecker. "What?"

"Seems you've got your own admirer."

"I… I don't think so. Knockout… he just likes to flirt."

"Maybe. Or he wants to pound you into a berth until your circuits fry," Wheeljack said somewhat seriously before finally chuckling to himself.

"And with that image now burned into my processor, I'm going to leave," Bumblebee replied shaking his processor incredulously. He was almost to the lift when he turned to face the other again, "Do me a favor and check on Bulkhead. I don't know how much longer he will be able to handle the drones. They aren't exactly the smartest bunch, definitely better at destruction than construction, and that's saying something when it's Bulkhead complaining about their intelligence." He paused for a moment more, and then made a decision, giving in, "And I will send out invitations."

This is the first story I have ever written where I have absolutely no direction. I'm just writing to write. Don't know if that is a good thing or not yet. Anyways, let me know what you thought. Thanks. Love you guys.