Jasmine woke on Saturday to rain hammering against her window. She grumbled and lifted herself from her bed, and shuffled to the kitchen for a poptart.

Her outdoor fashion show for a local shop had been canceled due to the weather and it left Jazz with nothing to do other than sit on her couch watching TV, which she didn't mind.

If the weather cleared up later, maybe she would go for a bike ride. She nodded, satisfied as she watched the beginning of Dexter.

Sunstreaker decided he didn't like the rain. It was cold, and wet, and made his already dirty paint streaked with mud.

He grumbled as he turned onto the suburban street, Lion Crescent, and splashed his way down the street to the housing unit who's garage he'd been staying in. As he pulled closer, his scanners, or what was left of them, picked up the life signature of a female inside. She was alone, and Sunstreaker snorted, pulling up the short driveway and activating the automatic garage.

He roared in and cut his engine, settling on his axles as the water dripped off him and the garage door closed and locked.

His solar and lunar cycle had been spent searching for the Autobots, but his efforts revealed his scanner was broken, his comm could only reach short distances, and his bond with his twin was blocked. It frustrated the front-liner to no end, that he was so close, yet so far.

Steam danced off his hood as he heated his chassis, allowing the water to evaporate.

Jazz froze, blue eyes narrowed as she cocked her head. Her ears picked up the sound of a car engine turning off, and the loud noise of a garage closing. She knew that she didn't have a car, or the remote to the garage, or a boyfriend with a car….Why was her garage opening?

Was it the person who parked there yesterday and left the tire marks on her floor?

Jasmine scowled, and tiptoed forward, opening the door slightly to peer though a crack.

Her mouth fell open, and she opened the door all the way.

There was a car in her garage, with no driver nearby. It's yellow paint was scratched, and it was caked in mud, but it was a God damn Lamborghini! And it was in her garage.

"Privet krasivyy." She murmured in Russian, padding around the sports car in her bare feet. "Gde sdelal vami prikhodit' ot?"

She paused beside the little red face above it's right wheel, but shrugged it off.

It took Sunstreaker a moment to find and then translate the language the femme was speaking as she walked around him.

It was Russian.

"Hello beautiful." She'd said. "Where did you come from?"

Sunstreaker didn't answer, he didn't owe this fleshy anything.

"My volya poluchat' vy k vash nadlezhashchiy vladelets! Ya volya delat' plakaty i ob''yavleniya!"

'We'll get you to your proper owner. I'll make posters and ads.'

He had no...owner! He was Sunstreaker; deadly gorgeous mech, emphasis on the deadly and the gorgeous! Sunstreaker was not some pet! But this femme had faint traces of the other Autobots on her, so perhaps she could be useful.

Yes, Sunstreaker would stay with this femme and she would take him to the Autobots whether she liked it or not. And then he could get the mud and gunk from his gears.

And Sideswipe. Oh Primus. How wonderful it would be to have his twin and bond back. Perhaps, if his twin was there, Sunstreaker would not kill the femme squishy.

You know, if she didn't get stepped on first.

Jasmine gazed at her task with her arms crossed and legs spread out. A bucket of warm, soapy water sat her left, and the hose was waiting on her right.

Her blue gaze ran over the scratched yellow paint of the Lamborghini, before bending to left the hose with a sigh. Luckily, the weather was beautiful, hot and sticky. Good for washing random sports cars that show up out of no where.

Her street was occupied by several young men, living with their families and a group of high schoolers, both girls and boys. They were all outside, some playing on the road with younger siblings, and others sitting in the shade with headphones.

Either way, she would probably have an audience.

Jasmine squeezed the trigger on the hose nozzle, blasting a jet of icy water at the vehicle. It shook a moment, and the model got the sense that the car was extremely pissed off with her now.

And that was annoying. The cars at the calendar shoot, which was four days ago, had felt like this too. Not pissed off, per say, but she had felt emotions.

The model shook her head, slapping herself in the face with end of her ponytail as she turned the hose spray on full blast.

The mud slowly trickled away, first the hood, then the wheel wells, and the body, then the back. It made a nice brown river to the street, where it poured down the gutter.

Jasmine lifted the bucket of soapy water, fished inside for the sponge she'd dropped in earlier and went about washing the car like her father had taught her.

It wasn't long before she was completely drenched and the Lamborghini was sparkling, save for the scratches.

A long low whistle sounded behind the redhead as she bent to clean the back bumper. She turned her face upwards and met the eyes of one of her neighbors.

"Nice car."

"Um...Thank you." She smiled.

"Could use some body work though." He put his hands in his pockets. "I'm Miles, Miles Lancaster."

"Jasmine Volkov. Nice to meet you." The redhead grinned, adjusting her pale blue t-shirt before holding out her hand. Miles shook and then knelt to look at one of the scratches, running his finger along it.

The Lamborghini instantly let off a loud wail, and Miles fell onto his behind in a big puddle. Jasmine rushed to the driver's door, and reached inside. She snatched the keys from the car and it silenced.

"Sorry." She rubbed the back of her head, tucking the little metal device into her pocket.

"It's alright." Miles laughed, glancing at his butt as he stood. "Hey, I know a guy who could do the paint on his thing for cheap."

"Really? Where can I find him?"

"Her, actually. One second." Miles lifted his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. "Hello, Mikaela? Yes, it's Miles."

He was quiet for a while, rolling his eyes.

"I know you're still pissed off with me. I've got a car question for you. So, this chick I know whats her car painted, yellow, think you can do it? Your week off! Aww, Mikaela! Josh is there? Alright, I'll let her know. Thanks. Yeah, yeah. Say hi to Sam. Bye."

"Right." Miles clapped his hands, grinning at the tall redhead who leaned against the Lamborghini. "Mikaela is busy making out with her boyfriend, and it's her week off, so I can't phone her again. Good news though! The really good paint is in today! His name is Josh Brandon, and if you go now, you should be able to get your car done by tomorrow."

"Isn't that a little fast?"

"In this heat!? I'll take you there!"

Jasmine glanced at the Lamborghini and darted inside for her wallet, which held her still valid license.

Pissed? Oh, Sunstreaker was more than pissed. he was furious! The puny little femme squishy had taken his keys! Not that he needed them entirely, but they were his dammit! Not her's!

And she'd been doing such a good job of washing him off, minus the freezing hose. He'd considered keeping her around for a while, as his personal washing fleshy.

But the moment she'd snatched his keys, that thought had been thrown into space and incinerated. And then she dared get into his interior in still damp clothing with the smelly male who was always grinning.

Her grip on the wheel drove him into such a fury that he wouldn't have been able to drive, so maybe it was a good thing she was.

…...and she going to repaint him, using her credits...

No. Sunstreaker shook his helm mentally. He was going soft, and Sunstreaker, great and beautiful Sunstreaker, was not soft!

"Welcome to the Banes' Auto-repair! You the chick who needed her Lambo painted? Seven hundred bucks, cause you know my man Miles!"

"Yes. I'd like it yellow please, kind of gold. And be careful." Jasmine chuckled, grinning over at the still seething Sunstreaker. "I swear the thing's temperamental."

Nope. That squishy was going to be a pancake on the asphalt the moment he was reunited with his twin.

I'd like to point out that I don't know Russian, or own Transformers, but Google Translate is my friend.

Thanks to all who favourited this, and those who are following this. And my lovely reviewers.

So, Jazz found Sunny. Sunny's not happy. Sunny doesn't like the squishy, but Sunny's gonna use the squishy for his own selfish purposes. Sound good? Is Sunny okay?

Feed back is appreciated, and I enjoy reviews!