Rhythm & Hues: Carry on Dancing

Chapter 7

Tuesday


Bluestreak sat sullenly on the couch, staring at the thick energon sloshing around his cup. Everything about him spoke of dejection; from the way he held his doorwings, to the frown on his face. Smokescreen paused on his way to the energon dispenser. The two Datsuns had never become close comrades. Still he didn't feel right just ignoring the young gunner, when he obviously could use a friend of some sort. So, he filled a mug and seated himself across from Bluestreak.

He waited for the bright blue lens to meet his. Surprise crossed the gunner's face, replaced by a smile.

It didn't fool Smokescreen.

"Ah, Smokescreen. I didn't see you there! You're getting as bad as Mirage. Wow, guess we have you to thank for convincing Rhythm and Hues to perform tonight. It's going to be great. Spike's going to be so surprised. He and Bumblebee went out to pick up some more supplies for the party. It's really nice that Prime's giving everyone a chance to see the performance."

Ah, yes, the inane chatter. One of the reasons he and Bluestreak were not too close. "I'm surprised Prowl isn't here. He's not on the duty roster until later."

Bluestreak faltered. "He had some work to do." He sloshed the energon around the rim of his cup.

That he didn't add more to it was hint enough. "You had a fight?"

The grey doorwings wilted. "He doesn't want to come to the performance. I don't understand. He's always enjoyed the arts. He regrets the loss of all those music files we had. He's never gone to any performances, or anything, but still..." The gunner's optics finally lifted. "I just don't get it."

Neither did Smokescreen. Their friendship with Prowl was one of the few things the two Datsuns had in common. Prowl didn't usually disappoint his bonded in such trivial matters. "Did he say why?"

The gunner's optics dropped back to his drink. He shook his head. "No," he said, his voice barely audible. Bluestreak's out of character lack of talking disturbed Smokescreen more than he admitted.

"Why don't I talk to him for you?"

Bluestreak lifted his head again, optics wide. "You don't have to really. He's not really keen on people getting into our business."

The racecar stood. "Well, I'm not." Without another word to the gunner, he strode out of the lounge.

He used one of the workstations in the hall to locate Prowl. The black and white Datsun appeared to be in his office. Smokescreen made his way through the corridors, barely pausing long enough to exchange pleasantries with his friends. He composed himself, shifting his door wings into a relaxed position. He chimed for Prowl's attention and the door slid open.

Prowl looked up from the datapad in his hand. "Yes, Smokescreen."

Most wouldn't be able to read the second-in-command. Even Jazz said he had trouble doing it sometimes. Smokescreen made a living off reading those who didn't want to be read. His doorwings stood rigid, higher than normal. His usually stern mouth turned down in a barely perceptible frown. The tactician was not happy.

And Smokescreen knew why. "Heard you got into a fight with Blue."

The frown turned to ice. "I do not see how that's any of your concern."

Smokescreen shrugged. "He's upset about it. Someone else is bound to notice."

Prowl's optics narrowed. "Do not play coy with me. What do you really want?"

The racecar widened his optics, affecting surprise. "What? Can't I care about a fellow Autobot? It's not like I'm Sunstreaker."

Prowl's finger tapped his desk as he considered the diversionary tactician. "I do not like discussing personal matters."

Smokescreen's yellow chevron lifted. "Not even to Blue?"

The ice in his scowl rose to his optics. "Again, that is none of your business."

A blue hand slapped down on Prowl's desk, startling the one seated there. "Someone else might notice and be a lot angrier about it." Then he tilted his head. "So, why won't you go? And don't tell me it's because you don't want to leave the Command Center unattended. Slag, even Red Alert wants to attend, despite the hissy fit he's throwing about the security at the event."

Prowl's frown darkened into an outright scowl. "There is no reason to make Prime monitor the security grid all night, all by himself. There should be a contingency plan."

Smokescreen drew his doorwings back. "There is one. We're right out there." He jabbed his finger in the direction of the entrance. "We aren't far. Not even as humans go. And it's not all night, just for the performance.

Prowl's face softened. "Blue's really upset?"

The yellow chevron tilted as Smokescreen turned his head. "Shouldn't you know?"

The patrol car covered his face with his fingers. "Fine, I'll go." He glared at the diversionary tactician through his fingers. "Happy?"

Smokescreen smiled, all innocence. "What are you talking about? I did that for Blue."

Prowl crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you too well for that, Smokescreen."


Spike's bright brown eyes watched Rhythm follow Trailbreaker into another circle of mechs. "This is a great party guys. Thanks so much."

Bumblebee grinned. "Night's not over yet, Spike." He took a sip of his high grade.

"Wish Carly and Chip could've made it though."

"Carly more so than Chip, I'd bet," Bumblebee rumbled with contained laughter.

Hues joined them, her doorwings rigid. She didn't sit down, but stood behind Jazz's shoulder. "Spike, Rhythm wanted me to make sure you're having fun."

Spike grinned up at the dancer. "Why didn't she come ask me herself?"

Jazz covered a smile with his hand. Spike still had no idea how nervous squishies made Hues. He had just found out the night before himself.

"Well she couldn't possibly just abandon Trailbreaker. That would be so rude." Hues' tone and rolling gestures dripped with sarcasm. She leaned her elbows on Jazz's shoulders. "Personally I think she's being a nosy busybody." Hues tilted her head. "But are you having fun?"

"Great fun," Spike replied, lifting his glass of beer.

Hues smiled and her fingers curled around Jazz's shoulder. "I'm also here to steal Jazz."

The saboteur patted the red fingers. "I'll be right there, babydoll."

"See you in a breem then. Later Spike." Hues waltzed away, doorwings relaxing as she moved away from the human.

Spike turned to Jazz, switching to more palatable English. "I hear they're your creations, Jazz. I didn't even know you could build anything like that."

Bumblebee smirked knowingly, while Jazz quirked a half grin. "I can't. I jus' put the credits towards it. Well, me 'n my band. Can't forget them."

"Dad says Ratchet compared them to prostitutes," Spike lifted an eyebrow," or strippers." By his tone it was apparent Spike was hoping his dad's memory to be wrong.

The two mechs looked at each other, stunned speechless for a moment, before they busted out laughing.

"Aw man, don't ever tell them that," Bumblebee said. "They'd hurt you."

"Nah, Spike. I wouldn't call them either. They're more like swingers." Jazz took in Spike's furrowed brow. "I guess that ain't much better. Don't forget, you're the one who asked."

A cry rang out over the chatter. Guns appeared in hands.

"Decepticons!"


Optimus ran out of the Ark, gun ready. He could make out the shadowed forms of a Seeker Trine in the failing light. Astrotrain and Blitzwing flew on either side of what could only by Soundwave. And there, his silver paint gleaming red in the sunset, hovered Megatron.

"Megatron!"

Cruel red optics turned to Optimus.

"What are you doing here, Megatron?" Optimus located Prowl and joined his second-in-command. Bluestreak stood beside the patrol car, hatred marring his face.

Megatron sneered at the guns trained on him. "I'm not here to fight you Prime. I simply couldn't believe that Starscream found you hiding dancers."

"Don't act so ignorant, Megatron. Why else was he in Portland while you were in Nevada."

"Was that what he'd found." Megatron glared at his Air Commander. "He only said that you had gotten it. He refused to explain further." The look on the Decepticon commander's face promised pain in Starscream's near future. "Tell me Prime, have you already convinced them to join your sorry team of losers."

"What choice did we have?" Rhythm's voice suddenly chimed into the evening sky. "Starscream made it quite clear just what you Decepticons would do to us."

Megatron scowled down at the blue femme. "And what would that be?"

"Terminate us, just like all the other dancers."

Megatron glanced at Prime, then threw his head back and let out a roaring laughter. "Is that what these fools told you?" He leered down at Rhythm's angry face. "My dear, if you only knew the truth. Isn't that right, Prime?" Red optics met blue.

Optimus took a step closer, fury blazing in his eyes. "It is the truth, Megatron. You destroy every dancer you get your hands on. Every. Single. One."

"The humans have a saying, don't they Prime?" Megatron's sneer never left his face. "Truth is in the eye of the beholder."

Rhythm and Hues turned to Optimus in confusion.

"I see you didn't tell them, Prime. Deactivating every dancer is a waste of sparks. Tell them what we do to their kind."

Optimus glared at his eternal foe. He'd hoped to reveal this at a much later time. He turned his optics to the femmes. But if he didn't tell them, the Decepticon would. Careful not to look anywhere but into the twin's purple optics, he spoke in a quiet voice. "The Decepticons used to have labs where they wiped sparks clean of memories, and altered personalities to suit their needs. Some, but not all the dancers were subjected to this grueling process." He lifted a hand to bare the question he knew they wanted to ask. "Those dancers are destroyed. Nothing remains of who they were, not even their shells or their names. They are no different than inexperienced sparklings." He didn't mention the Robosmasher, as by that time there were no dancers left to convert.

Hues regarded him with suspicion. "And you never tried to rescue any of them?"

Optimus' spark sank at the betrayal on their faces. "We've only ever successfully saved one from those labs, but that bot is no longer what they were. No longer a dancer. What remains of those memories only brings pain."


Jazz gently tugged on the rings he'd placed on Rhythm, making sure they were secure. The normally chatty twins hadn't said a word since Megatron left, surprisingly without a fight as he'd promised. Rhythm quietly slipped rings into those on Hues' crown.

"Y'know," he finally said, unable to stand the silence any longer, "Optimus wasn't tryin' t' deceive you."

Rhythm's hands stilled and she cast a glare at him, all hints of playfulness gone. "Then why does it slagging feel like it."

Hues shifted her door wings to add her own glower. "He twisted his words, isn't that lying?" It wasn't so much a question as a statement.

"You told me he betrayed and murdered my father," Jazz quietly quoted to himself. He modulated his voice louder. "Yes, and no." He grinned at the scowls they gave him. They hated answers like that

"One of those things we have to judge for ourselves?" Hues lifted her chin.

"Ayup, one'a those things."

Rhythm and Hues sighed and the air hummed with their private conversation.

He didn't remember it ever being so loud. Of course back then he didn't have to pick up on stuff like tight links. He wondered how the Lamborghini twins kept their private communications concealed amid upgrades to better signal detection.

"Rhythm, Hues. Sunny and I were wondering how much longer you're going to- Uwagh!" Sideswipe ducked the datapad that suddenly came flying at him.

"Get out!"

"Tha' was mean Rhythm." Jazz's voice crackled with laughter.

"He's trying to spoil the surprise! Let's get these ribbons on so we can get it over with. Thank you Jazz, but we can do the rest ourselves."

Jazz shook his head with a sigh. He reached out to Hues' shoulder, but the femme shifted away. He dragged his feet to the entrance of the small 'dressing room.' He turned around one last time. "Before y' judge him, maybe y'should ask Prime 'bout it."

The twins didn't acknowledge him.


"That was a waste of fuel, Mighty Megatron!" Starscream made a point of shrieking right past Megatron's audio receptors. "We should have brought the whole contingent and laid waste to the Autodolt's base. Then we could have captured those two, if you wanted them that badly."

Megatron laughed harshly. "You are a fool as ever, Starscream. You do not think things through. 'The whole contingent?'" Megatron mocked the Seeker's screechy voice. "Your Combaticons are useless unless they're Bruticus, but where's Swindle? Do you know? I didn't think so."

Starscream swooped around and tilted himself to glare at the Decepticon leader. "Well then where are your Stunticons. I notice they're missing as well!"

"I always have more than one agenda going, Starscream. And the Stunticons are loyally working towards some of those other plans, which is more than can be said for you." Contempt filled the silver mech's tone.

Starscream vibrated with frustration, leaving spiraling contrails in his wake. "Then why even bother coming out here in the first place!"

"Did it ever occur to you to question how they got here? Soundwave what is Laserbeak's report."

The blue mech looked nowhere but ahead. "Laserbeak reports: No sign of a shuttle or ship."

"See Starscream, where there's a ship, there's resources. One of those two femmes ought to be able to tell us where their ship crashed."


Two blobs of translucent darkness emerged from the Ark. Jazz chuckled to himself. Holoemitters always came in handy where one didn't have a backstage to hide in. Pity that the Decepticons had ripped his out a long time ago. Back before he'd joined the Autobots.

"This is a real special treat for ya, Spike. Even we ain't seen it in a long time."

"I guess it's only fair. Seems like we shove our culture down your throats, doesn't hurt to get a taste of your own in return." Spike sighed, resting his cheek on his knuckles."It's a pity Carly and Chip are missing it. I know they both would have been excited. Dad, too."

Bumblebee squeezed Spike's shoulder, taking care not to pinch too hard. "We know, Spike."

A stage, hastily, though not shoddily, erected by Grapple and Hoist, stood in the middle of the Ark yard. The twin blobs stepped onto the dimly lit stage. The lights brightened and the holograms dissolved, revealing Rhythm and Hues. Colorful ribbons hung from their heads and doorwings, weighted down with bells. Short chains interspersed the ribbons, lined with more bells. A fresh coat of paint and wax glistened in the light.

The twins stood back to back, arms spread. Blaster started up the music, and they swayed gently, silently, to the soft sounds. They slid away from one another. Their arms wove figures in the air, graceful mirrors of each other's movements . The lights shimmered off the rainbow of ribbons cascading around the femmes. Only the music followed their sweeping spins, their raiment twirling about them. Then the beat picked up and bells chimed with deliberate motions. For the first time in eons Cybertronian dancers played across the stage.

End Act 1


Author's notes: Thanks to everyone who's stuck it out with me so far, and to those who've left reviews. Next up for R&H will be the first set of interludes (which may take slightly longer, as they need to be written --;;) I feel like I should have more to say, but my mind is blank.