Disclaimer: Don't own, no monies here. Also, there would be a lot more smexiness going on if I did own them… Just saying!

Author's note: Hello everyone! Sorry for the huge wait on this chapter. It was a combo of my muse going AWOL and my internet dying, so I was left with…nothing, really. I'm on wireless internet at the library right now so I can post this . I wrote the "flashback-esque" sequence out when I was trying to get rid of my writer's block for this story, and then I just made the executive (executive of what? Myself?) decision that it would be included in the real chapter five. Or, actually, chapter six, if you stick the bonus chapter in place of the current chapter two and rearrange the numbers. Ah, okay, it's chapter six. I'll just go with that so I don't screw the future numbers up. Aaaanyways, enjoy, and review if you have a minute/second/whatever! (P.S. –Virtual chocolate chip scones to everyone who reviews!) (P.P.S.—I really love Jazz's accent. No sarcasm there, either! It's fun to type…)

Victory Is So Sweet…For Some

Part the Sixth

By Elora Vashara

Optimus had chosen a fairly remote beach on the California coast for his and Starscream's date, and he had made a few special trips out to neaten things up and make sure he had everything they'd need stashed away out of sight. He planned to arrive a little early so he could set things up and make sure the mood was right. Honestly, he couldn't really remember the last time he'd been on an actual date, seeing as the war had taken precedence for so many vorns. It was still going, of course, but Megatron had been strangely absent for the past few Earth years, leaving the growing number of Autobots to settle in relative peace. The last news they'd had of Megatron had been when Starscream had arrived, and once the seeker had been stabilized and repaired to a decent level of functionality he'd reluctantly divulged what he knew about the Decepticon's state of affairs in bits and pieces.

The semi truck recalled how stubborn and sullen the jet had been, though honestly he couldn't blame him. He'd been through a lot, not only the vorns spent under Megatron's violent control, but the sudden and unwanted transference to the body he'd designed to be a weapon, not to mention having to resort to submitting himself to the Autobots in order to save his own life. The only Autobots on Earth at the time had been those present for the battle with the Fallen, and it had been a somewhat even divide between those who accepted Starscream's presence and those who resented it. Jazz had, unsurprisingly, been unafraid to take the seeker's side and had done his best to keep tempers (both Starscream's and the other soldiers') cool whenever one encountered the other.

Optimus recalled how he'd been somewhat envious of the time the silver saboteur had been spending with Starscream until he remembered that Jazz was sweet on Prowl, who arrived about a month after Starscream. The tactician had accepted the jet's presence fairly well, once everything had been explained to him. He recalled the short period after Prowl's arrival, when Jazz had waited anxiously for some sort of special greeting from the—newly—black and white officer, not wanting to pressure him into anything. Optimus had observed somewhat anxiously as the days crept by and the spy's spark seemed to dull with the lack of response—even Starscream, who had become somewhat fond of the mech after prolonged exposure to his bouncy nature, noticed the drop in his mood and had offered an awkward pat on the shoulder.

Three months after Starscream's arrival, two days after Prowl's arrival…

Jazz and Starscream sat in silence at a corner table in the rec room, sipping their respective cubes of energon. Optimus reclined on the custom couch several of the more crafty mechs had put together, letting his processors wander where they would as he took a rare break. Soft, carefully measured footsteps alerted them to Prowl's approach, and as the Praxian stepped in Starscream stood and patted the slumping saboteur's shoulder lightly before he left. Optimus couldn't help glancing over and noticing the swing of the seeker's cherry hips as he left, then promptly caught his thoughts and turned away, mentally berating himself for thinking such things. The next thing he knew, Jazz had shot upright and stood tensely, frustration apparent in his stance as he glared down at the mildly startled and now seated Second. Optimus mentally prepared himself to intervene if things got out of hand.

"What's the matter, Jazz?" Prowl asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"What's the matter?" Jazz yelled, frustration turning to barely controlled rage. "I'll tell you what the slaggin' matter is! You haven't said more'n three words ta me since you got here, and Ah've been waitin' for ya ta do somethin', anythin' in response ta what Ah told ya back on Cybertron! Ya haven' said ah thin' abou' it ta me. Is it…" he faltered, the anger leaving him as he slumped once more, "D'ya, d'ya not…wan' me? Is tha' it? …Please, say somethin' Prowler, please."

The Praxian's doorwings dropped as he realized that his own uncertainty of the situation had led the saboteur to presume that he held no feelings for him. It was quite the contrary, in fact, but Prowl honestly hadn't been sure if Jazz's extremely brief confession of feelings before his departure had been genuine, or if it had been nerves. He supposed his processors had simply had too much time to dwell on it, and he'd wandered away from the basic truth he'd heard in Jazz's words that day. As such, he'd decided to let the silver mech make the first move once he'd arrived, but apparently that had been a bad miscalculation as the saboteur had taken the same course of action. Cringing slightly at the small disaster of his calculations, he stood slowly so as not to set off the slightly trembling mech before him.

"Jazz," he began softly, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "Jazz, I was waiting for you to make the first move." He waited, head tilted slightly as he observed the change in expressions. Jazz went from anticipating rejection to dumbfounded disbelief in a split second, his visor retracting at Prowl's words so the tactician could see the honest apprehension, longing, and fading hurt practically radiating from them. "Jazz," he murmured, expression softening as he slowly pulled the silver mech into an embrace.

"Y-you mean…? You do?" Jazz stammered as he tilted his head back slightly to keep optic contact with the slightly taller of the two. At a nod from Prowl, a grin split his face and he reached up to pull the tactician down for a long, slow kiss that began to grow more and more heated as fingers wandered over sensitive plating, and Jazz was slowly backed up against the table as both drew muffled moans and mewls from each other. They broke with a gasp and Prowl began tenderly mouthing Jazz's neck as he reached down to lift him up on the table. Optimus decided it was time to interrupt before his top officers began interfacing right there in front of him.

"Ahem," he rumbled, and they jumped apart somewhat guiltily, though neither seemed capable of stifling grins. "Congratulations, but would you mind taking it to a private room now?" He chuckled at the picture they presented, both still panting slightly, cooling fans on and bodies making contact in any way they could without looking too scandalous since his interruption.

Jazz threw a lazy salute to him, "Ah'll get right on tha', OP." Prowl, for his part, managed to sober his expression and gave a proper salute, a formal apology only just forming when Jazz grabbed his arm and practically hauled him out of the room as the tactician gave a rather undignified squawk at his sudden loss of balance.

Optimus just grinned and retrieved a cube of energon for himself, picking up a random datapad to peruse from a nearby table. He was left in blissful silence for a breem or so until Starscream wandered back in, sitting down across from him a bit warily. He glanced up and acknowledged the seeker with a friendly nod before returning to his reading. After a long moment, Starscream spoke up.

"So, everything's okay between them, then? Jazz was awfully upset earlier."

Setting the datapad down, Optimus met the seeker's crimson gaze steadily. "Yes, it was apparently just a misunderstanding. They were both waiting for the other to make a move."

Starscream hummed in response and averted his gaze to the tabletop, fiddling with his fingers, wings flicking at small disturbances in the air occasionally. After letting the quiet stretch on for a bit, a question occurred to Optimus, and he had to ask.

"Starscream?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you…I mean, Jazz has been the closest to you since you arrived, and I had wondered if, well…" He hesitated, not wanting to offend the flighty seeker. Thankfully, Starscream seemed to get his drift.

"Oh, no. He's not really my type." Given the short response, Optimus surmised the jet wasn't in the mood to talk. The answer both relieved him and piqued his curiosity, and he found himself asking another question.

"If he's not your type, then what is?" Crimson optics widened slightly in surprise at the query, and the red-striped wings twitched upward slightly.

"And what do you care?" Starscream arched a brow as he leaned back, gingerly adjusting his wings against the chair back.

"Ah," Optimus fumbled slightly, "I just… I'm curious, is all. I don't know much about you, personally, and I do try to get to know those I share a base with, at least a little bit."

"And do you make a habit of asking all your men what kind of mech they prefer, or am I the exception?" He fought back a grin—The Autobot leader could be somewhat endearing, he supposed, but mostly it was fun to watch him squirm.

"No!" Optimus protested, "Your answer made me curious is all. If I went too far, I apologize. I won't bring it up again." Feeling that the conversation had perhaps broken the ice, but not much else, he began stand, intending to leave before he dug himself into a deeper hole, as the humans put it. A blue hand on his forearm stilled him, however, and Starscream looked about as surprised as he felt.

"Ah," the seeker began, feeling completely out of his depth, "you don't, uh, have to leave. If you don't want to, that is. I just mean that I'm not offended, is all." He retracted his hand as Optimus slowly sat back down, his processors lingering on the feel of the Prime's warm plating beneath his fingers. Shoving such distracting thoughts out of his head, he adjusted his chair slightly to stall for time.

"Well," Optimus began, unsure, "If you don't mind answering, then, I'm still curious: What's your type?"

"I don't really know," Starscream answered frankly, "Before I joined the Decepticons, I was a busy student at the Iacon Academy, and before I was a student there, I was bonding to and training with my trine mates. Once I joined the war, I was so busy climbing the ranks that I didn't have much time to think about who I was attracted to. And I never really attracted anyone anyways, that I can remember."

"Oh." Optimus was a bit surprised, and having no real reply, fell silent. "But," he said after a moment, "you're attractive now, though." It was an awkward statement, and both ended up in a staring contest with the table as they tried to think of something else to say. Thankfully, it seemed the prideful seeker had not taken his intended compliment the wrong way. Or, if he had, he was just hiding it remarkably well.

"Ah, what about you?" Starscream asked eventually, startling Optimus.

"What about me?" The truck stalled, his overworked processor trying to connect the dots and make sense of the question.

"I mean, what's your type?" Starscream was starting to regret this conversation. These Autobots made it nearly impossible to back out of a conversation with their Primus-damned niceness—why hadn't he just let Optimus leave?—and until now he hadn't known a conversation could possibly be this awkward and stilted. The mere fact that he felt awkward in the conversation was enough to annoy him. It made him feel like he was at a disadvantage, not knowing where the boundaries of propriety might fall, so he could push them all he wanted.

"Err…" The word seekers came to mind immediately, but he pushed the thought away, not wanting to offend his present company (that did seem to be a rather constant concern, didn't it? Maybe he should try to get Starscream to be more friendly). "Well, um, to be uh, to be honest, I…hadn't really thought about it?" He offered, knowing his reply had been far from convincing. He really needed to work on his lying skills—perhaps he should take lessons from Starscream? He was a self reputed master of deception, after all.

"Don't try to lie to a Decepticon, Prime. Eh, I mean former Decepticon," he winced and corrected himself. "What is it you don't want to tell me? I was honest with you." For once. And why was he still having this conversation? Better question: Why was the rec room so empty today? Mechs usually came in and out with some regularity.

"Ah, right," Optimus chuckled nervously, suddenly thankful when Ironhide walked in. "I've got to get back to work," he claimed, practically fleeing the room for the safety of his office, where he couldn't mess things up with the seeker any more than he already had.

"That's not a fragging answer, Prime!" Starscream's voice rang down the hall after him, and when Ironhide bristled and prepared to berate the seeker for his complete lack of respect for the Prime, the shout was followed with a growled, "And you'd best keep it shut, tin can."

Forgetting the insult to his friend in favor of defending himself, Ironhide sneered at the former Decepticon, "Or what, huh, punk? What're you gonna do?"

Starscream just flashed a truly terrifying grin, stalked right up to the black mech so that their chests were nearly touching and slightly off center, and ducked his head in close to Ironhide's audio. "Or," he murmured sweetly, "I'll tell Ratchet you've been harassing me." He held his position as the warrior stiffened. Like dogs having a stare down, they remained that way for a few long moments until Ironhide finally relented.

"Fine," he muttered, and marched off sullenly to throw himself on the couch since his break had begun. The Autobot medic had taken the seeker under his figurative wing, and threatened everyone with sudden uncomfortable checkups should they bother Starscream. The first time the minor twins had tried something…well, the screams coming from the med bay weren't ones of delight, that was for sure.

Starscream just grinned in triumph and flicked his wings up high before strutting out of the room. He would give Optimus some time to collect himself, but after that the Prime was his.

Back to the present day…

Optimus was pulled out of his reverie by his comm flashing a medical emergency line from Ratchet. Spark leaping in alarm, he quickly responded, opening a channel.

/Ratchet, what's going on, is it Starscream?/

/Yes, the slagger's gone and snuck off base under all our olfactory sensors. If Red Alert were here this wouldn't have happened…/

/What? He's gone? How long, and why?/ Optimus was already running over the uneven, sandy terrain towards the nearest road so he could drive back to base.

/He's been gone several hours at least, and with those engines of his he could be halfway around the globe by now. And he didn't leave a note or anything to indicate where he was going. Inconsiderate glitch, when he gets back I'll weld him to the berth and have those thrusters off so fast…/

/I'll be back to the base as soon as I can./ Optimus finally reached the cracked, rural road and leapt, wheels skidding on the dusty pavement as he finished transforming. Luckily, there were no humans in the area, one of the reasons he'd chosen this spot in the first place. /In the mean time, get Jazz scanning on the long range for him and try hailing him over the comms./

/Will do, Prime. Ratchet out./

Optimus closed the line and poured on the speed, hoping Starscream was alright, wherever he was.

The three seekers had settled themselves far down in the southern tip of Nevada, basking in the warm, late-afternoon sunshine and sipping the energon cubes they all made a habit of carrying with them. Naturally, Skywarp and Thundercracker had a lot of questions and Starscream had obliged, getting them up to speed on how things had changed. Of course, he left out the juicier bits, though Skywarp begged for him to spill all the details. The conversation fell into a relaxed lull, all three just glad to be back together, letting their trine bond readjust in peace.

"…Thundercracker, Skywarp?"

"Hmmm?"

"It's good to see you again. And…and I'm…sorry. Sorry for the way I treated you, sorry for putting you through so much slag over the vorns—I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

"Oh, Screamer," Skywarp grinned, "you may be a stubborn aft, but that doesn't mean I love ya any less. Apology accepted."

Starscream grinned and raised a brow. "Thank you. And that was astoundingly mature of you, you know. Very out of character."

"Shut up," Skywarp chuckled, "just chalk it up to my being glad to see you after being told you were slag."

"Thundercracker?" Starscream had been fairly sure Skywarp would forgive him—the youngest of the three had trouble holding grudges. However, Thundercracker was another story. He'd put the blue seeker through so much slag… Putting blame on him for his own mistakes, giving him some of the most thankless tasks, refusing to budge on his own viewpoints even when the stoic mech had been right, then punishing him for thinking differently. Despite that, the oldest seeker had been patient with him, had taken the blame without complaint, had remained loyal… If anyone had a right to hold a grudge against him, it was Thundercracker. He bit his lip unconsciously as he waited for a response.

Thundercracker remained silent, studying Starscream while mulling over the apology and everything he'd learned about the changed Starscream. The mech sitting before him now was the Starscream he had been introduced to all those vorns ago, when the three had first formed their trine-bond. Before they'd joined the Decepticons, before Starscream had become warped by Megatron, desperately modifying his own frame to protect against the ferocity of his leader's beatings and shutting himself off, changing his ideals and outlook to avoid being hurt emotionally. Starscream was genuinely sorry, and he had certainly changed during his time with the Autobots.

"I…"

Starscream leaned forward, his tanks churning with anticipation.

"I forgive you." Thundercracker offered a smile, and was rewarded with an enthusiastic hug; he flailed for a moment, trying to keep his balance then flopped back into the sand, the two landing in a sudden tangle of legs, arms and wings. All was quiet for a moment before Skywarp leapt on top of them, crying "Seeker pile!" and a good-natured scuffle ensued, the three laughing until they could hardly laugh any more, eventually rolling to a stop with Starscream pinned beneath Skywarp who was being tickled mercilessly by Thundercracker, perched unsteadily on top of the other two.

At that moment, Starscream's comm line was opened, the invasion startling him. He'd blocked his comms earlier, not wanting to be disturbed, so Jazz must have finally hacked in to open a channel. Unfortunately, the hacked channel meant that everybody on both ends could hear what was going on at any given moment once the connection was established, and Skywarp chose that moment to cry out, "No, no, please stop! I'll do anything, just stop! I'm begging you!" and with a particularly awkward swing of his limbs, the pile tipped over with a resounding crash and several startled yelps from all three seekers.

"Starscream? Starscream! What's going on?" Optimus' worried voice rang over the line, causing Skywarp and Thundercracker to cease their laughter and glance over at Starscream, who was still half-pinned underneath Skywarp.

"I'm—would you—gerroff already, would you? I'm fine, Op—Agh! Watch where you're putting your thrusters, 'Warp, that was my wing!" Starscream huffed and finally heaved himself upright, frowning and rubbing a servo over his newly sore left wing. He shot a glare at Skywarp who whispered a completely unapologetic, "Sorry!"

"Ahem," he began again, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left. He was pretty sure he could hear some chuckling on the other end. "As I was trying to say, I'm fine, Optimus, there's no need to worry." He paused at hearing some loud but indistinct grumbling from Ratchet. "And I'm sorry for sneaking out, Ratchet, but you do realize I'm recovered, right? I was going insane, not being able to fly for that long. And I haven't been doing anything particularly taxing, and I brought along extra energon just in case…"

Skywarp snickered, "What is he, your carrier?"

"Starscream, who else is there with you?" Optimus asked, feeling more than a little out of the loop. He'd practically crashed into the command center and then ordered Jazz to force a channel open, worried silly over his seeker's safety, only to find that Starscream wasn't injured (well, except for his wing, now) and was in the company of a couple other mechs. He was completely bewildered.

This gave Starscream some pause, and he glanced at his trine mates questioningly. They nodded in response to the silent question.

"My trine mates, Skywarp and Thundercracker. We ran into each other when I was on my way back, and we've been catching up. I'm sorry if I worried you, Optimus, I really didn't mean to." He frowned then, mumbling "Primus, how many apologies have I handed out today? They're not free, you know."

He obviously hadn't mumbled quietly enough, as he heard Optimus chuckle at his comment. A soft smile appeared on his face at the sound, though, as a somewhat alarmingly strong wave of delicious warmth wrapped around his spark.

"No need to apologize, Star, I'm just glad you're alright. But would you mind heading back to base now? And…I hate to ask this now, but what about your trine mates?" From what Optimus knew of Skywarp and Thundercracker, they were loyal Decepticons, but if they were at peace with Starscream being an Autobot, perhaps they weren't as loyal to Megatron as he'd imagined?

Starscream sighed heavily (just one more bad habit he'd picked up from the humans) and turned to his fellow seekers. "Well? Not to put you on the spot or anything, but…" Skywarp and Thundercracker had a short, silent debate while everyone else waited in curious silence. They turned and nodded at the same time, but it was Thundercracker who spoke up.

"Where you go, we will follow. And since you've allied yourself with the Autobots, we will as well." Starscream grinned broadly in thanks, briefly wondering how the two would get along with the twins, and feeling very grateful for his trine's loyalty. He would do his best to not frag it up this time.

"Well, you heard the mech," he spoke, "you have two new seekers on base. We'll be back soon. ETA fifteen minutes."

"Alright, be careful, Optimus out."

"Starscream out." Starscream waited for the line to go dead, frowning when it didn't. "Ah, Optimus, dear?" Someone—it sounded like Sam and possibly Bumblebee—snickered on Optimus' end.

"Yes, Starscream?"

"I can't shut down a hacked line from my end. You have to do that."

"Oh, right! Sorry. Here…" The line fell dead, and Starscream unblocked his regular comms before all three took off in smooth formation, falling into their familiar pattern. All was silent but for their engines roaring and the whine of the wind as they sliced through the upper atmosphere.

~Fin~