Reaching the Iacon centre was so difficult that Sunstreaker and Bluestreak had no choice but to transform back to their robot modes and continue on foot. Sunstreaker supposed he should have expected it. All the streets leading to the Hall of the Ancients, the most prominent and sacred place on Cybertron, teemed with mechs and femmes who wished to take part in the festivities. The artist easily saw the smiles on everyone's faces, while the sound of laughter filled the air.
It was almost intolerable.
"Sunstreaker?"
Sunstreaker faced the soldier. "Yeah, Bluestreak?"
"You've been awfully quiet ever since we left your apartment."
Sunstreaker checked himself and, unfortunately, he had to admit that Bluestreak was right; they had hardly exchanged a word in the last half mega-cycle or so. The artist's mood had been too sour for that kind of thing.
"I'm sorry, Bluestreak. I just didn't feel like talking."
"Oh." The silver mech's gaze wavered. "Any particular reason?"
Sunstreaker didn't bother with an answer. He only shrugged.
Bluestreak, however, didn't give up. "Because if you're just worried that you'll be surrounded by dozens of mechs about to scratch your paint or anything like that, I can take you to a pretty good spot."
Now that piqued Sunstreaker's curiosity. Bluestreak was barely a day on Cybertron, and yet he could pick ideal places for them to go?
"I know, I know," Bluestreak answered with a smile, seeing through Sunstreaker's look of scepticism in his optics. "But, trust me; you'll love it... if you can keep up."
Before Sunstreaker could ask what the soldier meant by that, Bluestreak sprinted to his right and off the main road. Sunstreaker watched as Bluestreak vanished down one of the less crowded streets and, deciding to indulge his companion, he went after him. He barely paid attention to the buildings and mechs that he passed by, keeping his optics locked on the silver form instead.
He certainly didn't expect Bluestreak to suddenly grab onto an emergency ladder and hoist himself upwards with the agility of a cat-bot. Sunstreaker stopped in his tracks with an audible screech, staring agape at Bluestreak.
"What are you doing?" he exclaimed.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Bluestreak replied with a huge smile on his lips, looking down at Sunstreaker from a comfortable perch on the emergency ladder. "Now hurry up!"
And with that, Bluestreak was off again, powerful motion pistons working without error as he swiftly climbed to the terrace. A smirk formed on Sunstreaker's features, for he realised that Bluestreak had just challenged him.
Well, two could play that game. It was with that thought that Sunstreaker started climbing the emergency ladder as well. He was out of touch, there was no denying that; he hadn't had to go through that kind of physical exertion since his frontliner days. Even so, he still moved swiftly and nimbly, determined not to let Bluestreak beat him to the terrace.
Unfortunately, Bluestreak had the advantage because he was still a soldier. The constant training kept him in top condition, able to reserve his energy and yet still move at top speed; so it wasn't long before he reached the terrace, and he started running across it. Clenching his jaw, Sunstreaker pressed on, running as fast as his legs could carry him, and he noticed to his satisfaction that he was slowly gaining on the silver mech.
Just then, Bluestreak jumped into the air, his silver plating shining brilliantly against the darkening sky. Focused on the chase, Sunstreaker followed him without hesitation and, moments later, both Autobots landed on the opposite terrace with a loud clank. They rolled over and over for what seemed like an eternity, until they finally ended up sprawled on the roof, looking at the first stars of the night.
Sunstreaker remained where he was, cycling air heavily. His limbs ached, his ventilation system worked hard to cool down his circuitry and he was sure that he was sporting a couple of dents on his chassis. But it felt damn good, reminding him of the times he and Sideswipe practised their jet judo on any hapless Seeker they could lay their hands on. His lips tugged into probably one of the silliest grins to ever grace the face of Cybertron.
"You know, Bluestreak…" he said, the thought just occurring to him. "I think Sideswipe and I have been a bad influence on you."
"Yes, you have," Bluestreak's teasing voice sounded close by. "You're feeling better now though, aren't you?"
"Much," Sunstreaker admitted. He pushed himself into a sitting position to look at the silver mech, who was sprawled next to him with a broad smile gracing his lips and breathing just as heavily. "Thanks. I mean it."
"You're welcome," the soldier replied. He got back on his feet with a small groan and stretched his hand to Sunstreaker. "Come on."
Sunstreaker chuckled wryly. "Call me old if you want, but I don't think I'm up for Round Two that soon."
Bluestreak laughed. "No, we've arrived. But you won't be able to see anything if you just sit there."
"See what?" Sunstreaker asked curiously.
"Hey, you surprised me once, let me surprise you back," the soldier pointed out with a wink.
Sunstreaker supposed Bluestreak had a point. Taking the soldier's hand in his own, he got back to his feet and followed Bluestreak to the edge of the terrace.
He was stunned to see the Hall of the Ancients below. It was lit up like a beacon amid all the other lights in the city of Iacon, while a sea of mech and femmes were gathered around the building, laughing and talking as they waited patiently for the festivities to officially begin.
"Whoa…" was the only coherent answer Sunstreaker could muster.
"It was a good surprise then," Bluestreak declared. He boldly sat on the rail, and patted the spot next to him. "Have a seat."
Sunstreaker was intrigued to find the soldier so daring. Nevertheless, he complied and, once he was comfortable, he began to fully enjoy the view. Several minutes passed in silence, but there was a question that kept nagging the back of Sunstreaker's mind. Finally, unable to help himself, he turned to Bluestreak.
"Okay, I give up. How did you know about this?"
Bluestreak's smile turned to a broad grin. "The advantages of being Ultra Magnus' bodyguard. I downloaded in my databanks the map of the whole area in order to pinpoint any potential threats to Ultra Magnus' safety. This is one of the spots that an assassin could pick if he wanted to fire at him."
"But Ultra Magnus relieved you of your duties," Sunstreaker pointed out.
"Yeah," Bluestreak said. "I still had the info though. I figured I could just as well put it to good use."
"So… there is no threat."
Bluestreak shook his head. "I was just following the typical procedure." He lifted his gaze to the sky, a thoughtful expression settling on his features. "And I hope that's all I will ever have to do as a soldier from now on."
Sunstreaker looked once more at the crowd that was unfolded before him and he wholeheartedly hoped for the same thing – Bluestreak deserved that much at least.
It was then that he saw it. Optimus Prime, Elita-1, Ultra Magnus and Jazz stepped out to one of the highest balconies of the Hall of the Ancients, ready to give the necessary speech before the festivities. Sunstreaker patted Bluestreak's shoulder, and both Autobots tuned up their audios to hear what Prime had to say.
"People of Iacon, guests from other cities and distant planets, I bid you welcome. We're gathered here today to celebrate the day that a time of darkness ended, and a new age of prosperity began. It's a day that reminds us of the destruction and sadness we witnessed during the war, but also the joy and hope that came along with peace. It's a day that we honour those who died before they could witness this new Golden Age, and a day that we remember what we must never forget: the value of freedom. Only then can we co-exist in harmony; not only on Cybertron, but also on Earth, Nebulos and everywhere else across the galaxy."
And with that, Prime turned to Jazz, who knew exactly what to say.
"Ladies and Gentlebots… let's get this party started!"
Nobody had to be told twice, of course. There was a wave of clapping and cheering, and the deafening sound of fireworks rang through in the air. The fireworks exploded in vibrant colours of blue, red, gold and green, illuminating the sky, while Sunstreaker looked on in wonder at the patterns that were formed so close to him. It was as though he could touch them if he just stretched out his hand.
He smiled broadly. Bluestreak had indeed picked the best spot for the two of them.
"It's really something, isn't it?" Bluestreak asked, looking at the fireworks as well.
Sunstreaker regarded Bluestreak from the corner of his optic. "Yeah, it is."
With that, he looked up again, unaware that his hand had inched closer to Bluestreak's – almost touching it, but not quite.
Sunstreaker didn't know how long he and Bluestreak stayed up on the terrace, side by side. But, when Bluestreak suggested they should go down and join in the dancing and merry-making, the artist just couldn't deny his wish. He followed Bluestreak down to the ground via another emergency ladder, then let him guide him towards the crowd very much like an excited sparkling that dragged his creator onward.
Just when Sunstreaker felt as if they were both lost in uncharted territory and surrounded by utter strangers, a familiar voice reached his audios.
"I don't believe it! You guys are here?"
Sunstreaker turned around, just in time to see Goldbug, formerly known as Bumblebee, pushing through the people to get to the two Autobots. Not only that, but Cliffjumper and Mirage were with him, also wishing to greet the artist and the soldier.
The reunion was warm and spark-felt, that was for certain. Bluestreak hugged and patted Goldbug and Cliffjumper on the shoulder, more than glad to see them. And when Mirage asked him about any news from Hound, Bluestreak told him willingly.
"He misses you," he said. "He actually plans on coming to Cybertron at the first chance, so he can see you."
"It's a pity he didn't manage to come now," Goldbug noted ruefully.
"It couldn't be helped," Bluestreak said, "He and Beachcomber have been helping Grapple build the space-bridges, making sure that the terrain and wildlife won't be disrupted by the new structures."
"By the sound of things, I'll get to visit him first after all," Mirage said with a chuckle. "And you can tell him I said that."
"I will… Ambassador," the soldier replied teasingly.
Sunstreaker was dumbfounded. He was aware that Mirage had chosen a career in diplomacy after the war had ended; but that the former Ligier was elected as ambassador was news to him. Cliffjumper and Goldbug seemed just as stunned, for they stared at Mirage incredulously.
Mirage smiled almost shyly. "It appears you and Jazz have been talking," he said to Bluestreak. "I should still emphasize that it's only a temporary position."
"Come on, Mirage; that's good news!" Cliffjumper said. "Where will you be sent first?"
"Nebulos; and then Earth," Mirage said.
"Gears and Warpath have to hear this!" Goldbug said, and he grabbed Mirage by the hand. "Come on, let's go!"
Mirage tried to say something, but it was of no use; Goldbug was already dragging the blue mech away. All that the newly appointed ambassador could do was turn to Bluestreak and Sunstreaker with an apologetic look, and then vanish with the minibot into the crowd.
Cliffjumper shook his head. "Different name, different colour; but he's still good ol' Bumblebee."
"It sure looks like it," Bluestreak said, grinning. "You'd better go after them, Cliffjumper."
"Definitely. This calls for a little celebration of its own, and someone has to get the high-grade!" the red minibot said, rubbing his hands together. "Later, guys!"
The red minibot was gone so fast that Sunstreaker and Bluestreak didn't even get the chance to wave goodbye at him.
"I hope he leaves some high-grade for the others," Sunstreaker noted dryly.
"If he wants to celebrate, let him celebrate," Bluestreak argued in a playful tone. "Besides, he's pointed out something important."
"And that is?" the artist asked.
"We don't have any drinks," Bluestreak replied. "I'm going to get us some, okay?"
"Wait, Bluestreak, there are-"
But Bluestreak had already left, and he didn't hear what Sunstreaker meant to tell him.
"—too many people," the yellow mech completed half-heartedly, aware that he was fighting a lost cause. He would just have to stay put until the soldier came back with the high-grade, which wasn't going to be easy. Bluestreak wasn't a minibot, after all, and he would have to push through a big crowd till he got the cubes.
Heaving a sigh, he kicked an invisible stone and looked around, trying to see if there was anything he could do in the meantime.
"I never expected to see you alone on such an occasion," a male voice said from behind him.
Sunstreaker clenched his hands into fists at once. If that mech intended to hit on him with that kind of unoriginal line, he had another thing coming.
"For your information, I already have company, so I suggest you back-" Sunstreaker's voice died in his vocaliser, and his intimidating scowl vanished when he saw who talked to him.
"I didn't mean to offend you, Sunstreaker," Ultra Magnus said, a small smile on his lips.
Sunstreaker hadn't really expected Ultra Magnus to remember him by name. The artist had never been under one of the Earth Commander's subordinates, and they had exchanged only a few words during the war.
"My apologies, Magnus," he said. "I didn't realise it was you."
"No harm done," Ultra Magnus replied, waving his hand dismissively. He sipped some of his high-grade and looked at Sunstreaker with quite the scrutiny. "So where's your company? If you don't mind my asking, that is."
"He's gone to get us something to drink," Sunstreaker answered truthfully enough. "And I don't see him coming back any time soon," he added in a dry tone, nodding in the direction of the crowd. "Yours?"
"Jazz found Mirage and a few more friends and they're celebrating, and I didn't think it was proper to be in the way of Optimus and Elita; they'd rather spend their time together," Ultra Magnus said, "So I decided to see what familiar faces I should meet."
"And I was one of them?" Sunstreaker asked, raising an optic ridge.
"As a matter of fact, yes," the Earth Commander replied, his smile broadening a bit. "I meant to have a word with you… and congratulate you."
"For what?" Sunstreaker asked, confused.
"I've heard you exhibited some of your pieces in the Iacon Art Gallery," Ultra Magnus said, as though stating the most obvious thing in the world. "You've even got good reviews for them, too."
The artist felt his optics widening, unable to hide the fact that he was surprised. "I didn't think you'd be interested in my work."
The large mech chuckled softly. "Actually, I'm patient enough to hear Bluestreak talking constantly about it."
Sunstreaker's spark missed a pulse at those words. Sunstreaker hadn't expected Bluestreak to be interested in his art either. In fact, he was sure that Bluestreak knew next to nothing about art.
Then again… Sunstreaker didn't know much about Bluestreak's life on Earth, did he? He had stubbornly refused to know from day one, in fact. It was something that filled Sunstreaker with indescribable guilt and, though he didn't welcome Ultra Magnus's presence at first, he now saw in the other mech an opportunity to make some form of amends.
"He must be a very good bodyguard if you've managed to put up with his babbling all this time," he said, trying to keep his tone teasing and nonchalant.
"He is," Ultra Magnus answered seriously. "He's one of the most conscientious, hard-working and responsible mechs I have ever met."
Like mentor, like protégé, Sunstreaker thought wryly. Still, it was nice to know that Bluestreak was doing well.
"But there's still something missing."
Sunstreaker put a stop to his musings with a mental screech. "What do you mean?"
Ultra Magnus shook his head. "He hasn't done anything wrong," he explained. "However, ever since he became my bodyguard, Bluestreak's been leading a very quiet, almost isolated, existence. He barely smiles anymore, and he always seems to be lost in thought. There are even times that, when there's a particularly clear night, he lifts his gaze to the direction of Cybertron with a look of longing in his optics, only to look away again moments later, sighing regretfully."
The artist bit his lower lip, for this wasn't what he wanted to hear at all. He had never imagined Bluestreak being so miserable, and it left him wondering why the soldier still stayed on Earth if that were the case.
"That's what I wondered too, so I confronted him about it," Ultra Magnus said, seeing through Sunstreaker's thoughts. "I even told him that I would gladly accept his resignation, as long as that was what he really wanted; all he had to do was ask."
"And what did he say?" Sunstreaker asked, his voice unusually strained.
Ultra Magnus fixed his optics on the artist. "Word for word?"
"Yeah."
"'I angered him.'"
Sunstreaker caught himself shifting on his weight uncomfortably, for Ultra Magnus' look became hard, almost piercing. In fact, if Sunstreaker didn't know any better, he'd say that Ultra Magnus…
"I do know," the Earth Commander said. "As soon as he said those three words, he broke down and told me the whole story."
Sunstreaker clenched his fists. "Then he must have also told you that he chose to stay on Earth."
"And you chose to leave," Ultra Magnus pointed out.
"I'm aware of that!" Sunstreaker exclaimed exasperatedly. "I've been regretting it ever since Bluestreak showed up in my doorstep!"
Ultra Magnus certainly didn't expect that. "He did?" he asked in surprised tone.
Sunstreaker froze as he registered what he had just said. He bit his lower lip and mentally cursed his stupidity, but there was no turning back anymore.
"Yeah. In fact, he's my company," he admitted. He snorted, a very wry expression on his features. "Don't worry, he'll be back on time for the return trip to Earth."
The Earth Commander frowned slightly. "Is that what you want?"
"Does it make any difference what I want? He's a soldier and a sickeningly dutiful one at that," Sunstreaker replied, his voice barely hiding the bitterness he felt. "Prowl would sure be proud."
Ultra Magnus sipped some of his energon in thought. "You're right, he would be."
Sunstreaker huffed inwardly. However, Ultra Magnus was far from finished.
"But Prowl would also want Bluestreak to be happy."
Sunstreaker caught himself staring agape at Ultra Magnus, yet the spell didn't last long. A familiar silver form approached them, holding two energon cubes, and he stopped in his tracks at once.
"Ultra Magnus?" Bluestreak said, looking at the Earth Commander almost apprehensively.
Sunstreaker had to admire Ultra Magnus's subtlety. The large mech faced Bluestreak with a friendly smile as though nothing was wrong whatsoever.
"Hello, Bluestreak. I'm glad to see you've made it to the festivities."
It was a strange thing to see a soldier acting as though he was a sparkling and had got caught in the act of doing something wrong. Bluestreak kept fidgeting, and Sunstreaker clearly saw a strange tint of red on the silver faceplate.
"I… wouldn't miss them for the world, Sir."
"Nor should you," Ultra Magnus said. "Especially when you can celebrate with someone you care about."
Bluestreak's face became even redder, but Ultra Magnus didn't seem to notice. He simply faced Sunstreaker.
"Thank you for the company. I want to believe that our conversation has been enlightening."
Sunstreaker didn't even get the chance to answer, for Ultra Magnus turned on his heel and left without looking back. Bluestreak watched him go with a perplexed look in his optics, still holding the high-grade in his hands.
"What was that about?" he finally asked, looking at Sunstreaker curiously.
Sunstreaker shook his head. "It's no big deal. He wanted to congratulate me for my art exhibition."
"Oh." Bluestreak relaxed at once, and he offered one of the cubes to the yellow artist.
It was the perfect opportunity for Sunstreaker to catch the soldier off-guard and step closer, his optics locked on Bluestreak.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Bluestreak's optics widened. "Tell you what?"
"That you kept track of my work," Sunstreaker answered.
Bluestreak cringed. "It never came up?" he said lamely.
Sunstreaker gave the soldier his best 'as if' look, something that clearly embarrassed Bluestreak. He averted his gaze at once.
"I didn't know how you'd react," he replied.
His voice was barely a soft murmur, and his guilt quite audible. Sunstreaker couldn't help but heave a sigh, because he realised that Bluestreak was still afraid in spite of his brave front – afraid of the artist's anger and resentment.
It was time to remedy that, then.
"I'm not angry," he said truthfully, a smile accompanying his words. "It's just that you've never showed any interest in my drawings before, Bluestreak."
The soldier smiled back, albeit weakly. "There's always a first time for everything."
"I guess there is," Sunstreaker replied. And, though he would never say it out loud, it was flattering to know that he had something to do with Bluestreak's new favourite pastime.
That, incidentally, also gave him an idea. In the next moment, he gripped Bluestreak by the wrist and started dragging him away. "Come on."
Bluestreak stared dumbly at Sunstreaker. "Where are we going?"
"To my special place," was the artist's only answer.
"What about the cubes?" Bluestreak asked incredulously.
Sunstreaker just handed them to a couple of oblivious bystanders and continued on, keeping Bluestreak close behind.
