3. Daydreaming
Puppy, poker chips, bouquet of flowers.
Suggested by Tiamat1972

Sweet summer breezes blew through the little valley, whispering caresses against the verdant grass and stirring the delicate violets that poked their tiny heads in patches along the hill. Against this vibrant pallet of color was a swatch of grey, head bent towards the bubbling river at her feet. Her attention transfixed by whatever moved therein and she did not notice the forest green mech who was walking towards her, his large feet stepping around the violets.

Hound was loathe to disturb Solarflare in her quiet serenity; he stopped twenty feet from her resting spot, the heads of the daffodils he carried in one thick hand brushing against his back plates. She was no Cybertronian beauty, this grey-black-white eagle-femme; her facial planes were sharp, but not too severe. Built short and armor tailored to weigh on the light side, her pyramidal feet were often the first thing people noticed, other than her impressive wingspan. No, she would not win any Tower beauty contests, but what made her pretty was her expressiveness: the cant of crest and head, the mobile mouth and dancing gold optics.

Was he enamored with her? Certainly; ever since he brought her to the Ark all those years ago.

The wind blew gently against his back, plucking free a petal of one alabaster-white daffodil and spinning it towards the femme by the river. Avian-like, her head jerked up, pulled from her reverie by the motion; she spun on the balls of her feet, taloned hand outstretched – though no Decepticons remained to ambush her. Instantly, her facial planes softened when she saw who it was. Wordlessly, she crooked a claw, beckoning him to join her on the hillock.

Deep inside his chassis, Hound's Energon pump jumped, did a little jiggle. Carefully, he tightened his grip on the daffodils and made for her side. Flare shifted and smiled. "What brings you here?" she asked with a laugh as he positioned himself at her side.

Hound looked at her, into her golden optics, at the sunlight gleaming off of her onyx tri-fold crest. The femme's sharp cheeks were stretched in an affable grin, charcoal lips pulled wide to showcase her dental plates.

With a deep breath to cool his rapidly-heating body, Hound extended the hand he'd held behind his back. "I found these on the other side and thought you'd like them. I know how you hate roses."

A dew-covered black hand, the droplets shining on the polished metal, reached forward to take them from his thick-fingered paw. Brilliant optics met his over the silk-soft petals, the buds and blooms as large in her grasp as baby's-breath in a human's. But their size did not seem to matter to Solarflare.

"Why … thank you," she breathed, tilting her head so that she was looking up at him, though their bodies were at level with each other. "You didn't have to."

The green tracker hummed inside with barely-contained pleasure. "Lovely daffodils for a lovely lady," he told her, shoulders hunched to keep her optics in line with his.

"You're too sweet," she replied, brow ridge drawing low over her optics. Water droplets clung to the tips of her taloned left hand as she lifted it from the dewy grass at her side to gently brush his grey cheek.

"F-Flare …"

All but giving voice to a full-throated purr, the grey femme gently set the daffodils aside and lifted her lips, breezing by his cheek. "Mmm, Hound?"

Reserve broken, the tracker's well-concealed humming poured forth and he raised his hand to touch her shoulder strut. Instantly, Solarflare melted against his armor, her hands slipping over his thighs to curl around towards his back. Sparkling tremors gave way to a full-mech response from the gentle Jeep. All of his dreams were coming true: she was in his arms and they were alone, but for the bubbling brook and the discarded blooms of the daffodils.

Carefully, he lowered his head and touched his lip components to hers. She tasted of dew and pure spring water, scented of sweet breezes and the attar of daffodils. And, just like the flower, she parted before him, hooking her talons into his shoulder plates and dragging him atop her on the sparkling bank.

Ardor, powerful and persistent, tugged at his cortex even as her taloned hands wormed their way into the creases in his chest plate. They slid under his undercarriage, brushing against sensitive metal. Slowly, the pressure built inside his head, thrumming through his Energon pump; soft as a breeze, trying to control his desire, he broke contact with her lips and ran them down her cheek, into her throatlatch. Under him, Flare moaned, her talons digging deeper. But the pain was sweet, all he wanted.

He trailed his lips across her chest, imprinting every curve, every angle of her raptor's body into his central processor. With careful, gentle sweeps of his fingers, he found the recessed plate in her right side, tucked inconspicuously under her grey "ribcage". His own connecting cord had long since broken free of its casing to graze at his hip plate, waiting. With the removal of this plate, he could finally join with her, bonded in an ecstasy that transcended body and spark.

"Hound …"

Her hands seized him, eagerness wild in her optics. "Hound …"

The green mech shifted, hands reaching around for his cord, shuddering in the pleasure such contact brought to his cortex.

"Hound …"

Against him, she arced, scrabbling, scrambling for completion, her optics shuttered as she breathed his name over and over again. Triumphant, he pressed himself against her grey body …

"Hound. Hey, pal."

Something was licking at his large green foot, persistently. Hound groaned, cracking one optic and focusing on the large but lithe black cyberhound pup that was poking its sensitive nose around his leg before moving to the tracker's side.

"Hm. Best put yourself together, my friend," Mirage continued, the words overlaid with his rich laugh. "Which one caught your fancy?"

Time and reality slowly spun into its proper position in Hound's cortex. Embarrassed, he stuffed his cord back into its holding and followed Mirage's gaze across the lawn of Autobot City to where several lean femmes were playing a modified game of volleyball. "All of them," he replied as blithely as he could, with as much of his usual charm and "country boy" attitude as he could gather around him. Stretching, the tracker popped a few stiff servos before relaxing against the tree that had been his backrest for the past hour.

Again, Mirage laughed, the tall, lithe gentlemech nodding approvingly at his best friend's choices. "I've come to collect you for the poker game," he told the green Jeep. "Here." From subspace, the spy produced a small red velvet pouch and tossed it into Hound's lap. "Your chips."

The pouch, loosely tied, spilled three brightly colored poker chips onto the tracker's stomach and torso plate. "Thanks," he replied, scooping the chips up and letting them fall back into the pouch. "I'll be there in a minute."

The Elite spy smiled, nodded, and called the cyberpup to heel. "Not too long … as nice a view as you have here." And he winked, walking off across the verdant green grass, the pup bounding along. Once out of sight, Hound turned the pouch over and over, looking up and across the hill towards the City proper, to the Comm Tower where a grey femme stood, perched on the lip below the hexagonal base, watching the horizon.

With a sigh, he stuffed his daydreams into the back of his cortex and once again accepted reality for what it was.