Chapter 11
Companionship and Conflict
Ratchet is lying on his back on his berth with his helm propped up on a pillow, relaxing with a data-pad in his hand, when Uplink approaches the open doorway to his room in the quiet of the evening. She knows that the door is open for her, letting her know she's welcome, but still she taps lightly on the doorframe.
"Mind some company?" she asks. It's a Praxian formality. She spends nearly every evening with him, and she knows that, in his viewpoint, she doesn't really need to ask, but she still does.
"I don't mind," he answers, glancing up from his reading, and she wanders in, shutting the door after herself. Theirs is an entirely platonic relationship on both sides, but they still tend to keep it hidden, not wanting to put questions or ideas in anyone's minds. This is their time to relax together, and not worry. Time to get away from the smell of sanitizer and cleanser. Ratchet's room is clean, of course, but it has the homey of armor polish, soft blankets, snacks, and mech, rather than the sharply sterile smell that holds rule over the rest of med-bay.
Ratchet's resting frame creaks in objection as he scoots over, closer to the wall, to make space for her on his berth, and his cooling system kicks on, huffing at him for bothering it, and then cuts off with a whir.
Frame aching with tiredness, Uplink settles down beside him, lying on her side, facing him, and her own system sighs in relief as it decompresses.
"Ever remember being young?" she asks with a slight snort of amusement as she relaxes, wings sagging comfortably.
He chuckles. "I wasted a lot of energy back then," he reflects.
She tilts her helm to look at him as she situates it with a pillow. "That is somewhat hard to imagine."
"Well, it was a very long time ago. I've changed a bit"
She smirks. "Ratchet, you can't fool me. You're hardly older than I, and I happen to know to that our youth-days were a very, very long time ago."
"Hey, now."
She lets herself chuckle, ignoring the twinge it gives her vocs.
"Femme." He shakes his helm. "You're getting this off in the wrong lane. I said I wasted a lot of energy when I was young, and you are supposed to say you did the same, and then we recount some of our youthful shenanigans. Not make me mindful of just how long ago that was." He points his "scolding doctor finger" at her.
"Ah, but I didn't waste a lot of energy when I was young, you see." She puts a bit of pride in her husky tone to tease him.
"Praxian. Of course not. Did you waste a little bit of energy then?"
She tilts a wing. "Perhaps a very little bit."
He gives her a speculative look, the one he gives bots when he suspects they're fibbing slightly, but Uplink just looks back at him mildly, not recalling much waste of energy at all.
"A very, very long time ago," she adds blandly, making him smile.
"Uh-huh." He shifts the subject. "How was today?"
"Well, I didn't have any energy to waste," she replies, halfway joking. His optics rest on her rebuilt arm. "It was a good day, though," she adds, scooting closer, seeking the warmth of his frame as hers cools off. "A fairly routine day, but that's generally preferable to the alternatives, you know."
"That's true." He prefers routine days himself, steady days without mishap, she knows. Neither of them would complain about things being humdrum.
Uplink glances at her arm herself, grateful for it and for Ratchet's work for her future. Not just Ratchet's work, though, she thinks as she remembers an earlier conversation with Praxus. "Our Praxling thinks having me paint with this hand will help develop its connection to my processor better than just doing exercises with it," she comments.
The mention of Praxus puts a gentle look of pride and affection on the old mech's expression as it usually does. "He told me about that. It doesn't sound too farfetched, actually, and there's probably some related research out there."
"I rather had to agree to try it so he wouldn't hypothesize and lecture on it all day."
Ratchet chuckles. "That's my mechling."
She twiddles one finger slightly. "I told him I didn't get anything artistic out of my hand before the Corrosion and could hardly expect to get anything now, but he said the artistic product wasn't the point, but rather to stimulate my relays and draw them together by engaging more of the senses and activating the learning cortex. Ratchet," she says, her tone shifting slightly with her thoughts.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I think it would be good practice for Praxus to write up a little research paper about this, following the scientific method, you know. He struggles with written words, though, so I wanted to get your opinion before I gave him the idea. As passionate and excited about therapy as he is, I don't want to make him frustrated by dragging him down with a paper. He would need both praise and assistance, certainly." She can tell from his expression that he likes the idea, but he gives it some thought before answering, and she appreciates his care for Prax's well-being.
"I think giving him the idea of writing a paper would be fine," he says after some thought. "If it interests him enough, he'll try it, and if he struggles, there's no shortage of bots to help and encourage him. I will, of course. I'm sure Auri will, and Prowl. Sunstreaker might even help, since it's got to do with painting. You never know with Sunstreaker."
She'd barely thought of Sunstreaker, but Ratchet did have a have a point. "I'll count him as a 'maybe,'" she decides. "Though it won't be artistic painting. I'll merely be painting simple geometric shapes and simple, repetitive patterns, like a youngling in first-level learning."
"We can hang your paintings up beside Starlight's," Ratchet says with a hint of jesting.
Uplink snorts in amusement. "She and I can practice painting together, see how we each improve. We should get Prowl in on the painting, too, for a more varied study group. He was artistic before."
Ratchet's optics twinkle. "You're already getting into this project, and it hasn't even started."
She smiles and tilts her helm in acknowledgement. "Well, I do like a good project." She shifts a bit, reaching down and pulling the blanket up from the foot of the bed.
Ratchet sits up and reaches to help her with the blanket, seeing unsteadiness in her rebuilt hand as she tries to move it at that angle with the weight of the blanket. The power in her fingers decreases, and she fumbles, trying to maintain some control. The metal of his hand is warm over under hers as he gently folds her fingers to grip the blanket again. He draws her hand with the blanket up slowly, carefully, guiding her arm so its system will have practice making this motion.
"How far up?" he asks.
"Here is good," she says. "Thank you."
He settles her hand down and then adjusts the blanket around her, covertly checking her temperature as he reaches behind her back. She might have not noticed if she wasn't expecting it, but with Ratchet, he checks temperatures almost compulsively. She hides a knowing looks while he tucks the blanket around a little as a delaying tactic. Then she raises an inquiring optic-ridge as him he lies back down and shifts a couple times to find just where he'd been lying.
"Well?" She asks, smiling at the look on his face that follows as he realizes that he hadn't fooled her.
"Perfectly average for you," he answers. "Your hand was a bit cold… That's fairly average for you, too, though."
"Mmhm…" She shifts her fingers slightly, stiffly.
Respectfully, he reaches toward her hand. "May I?" he asks, and she appreciates him being mindful of Praxian ways.
She nods consent, and he takes her hand, the practiced sensors in his fingers investigating its condition. He tests different parts of her hand and fingers, shifting his hold several times as he does so.
"Would you say you used it more today than usual?" he asks. He's using his doctor tone rather than his friend tone now, and Uplink would prefer he didn't, but she knows it's habit with him, no helping it.
She thinks briefly over how much she'd used her hand. "I think I did use it more."
"Probably just a bit of overexertion, then," he decides, sounding reassured. "Not anything too troubling. Just make sure you don't do as much with it tomorrow. I don't want you straining it."
"You did put quite a bit of work into making it," Uplink says, keeping a steady tone and straight face as she teases him.
He gives her a dry look, and she chuckles.
He halfway smiles as he turns his optics back to her hand. He begins gently massaging her fingers to relax them, running a soothing current of energy through them. Although her arm is at a comfortable angle for her, she can tell he's holding it at awkward angle for himself, and he would have to shift positions for it to be less awkward. As disinclined as she is to move, she suspects he is just as disinclined himself.
"Here," she says, "If you don't mind." She shifts just slightly and then rests her arm and hand on his chest so he doesn't have to hold them while he massages her hand. It's a bit of an intimate position for him, she realizes as he gives her a somewhat surprised look, but she can tell she hasn't wakened any mechly passion. "How's that?" she checks.
"That's fine," he answers, resuming his care of her hand and looking more comfortable.
"Well, don't tell Praxus. He'd be scandalized."
A chuckle rumbles in Ratchet's chest, and Uplink smiles as she feels it. She's not stirred by any passion herself, but there is something deeply satisfying about being around him and having his companionship.
She stays as she is, her hand on his chest, receiving his therapeutic attention. Their conversation slows, for he's preoccupied with wires and sensors and circuits, and her voc won't sustain a whole lot of talking. She also isn't a chatter-bot either; Auri or Praxus might talk on without pause, but she prefers the back and forth of a conversation.
Once Ratchet is content that all the tension is out of her hand, he moves his away. Uplink is relaxed and settled enough at this point that she's loath to move in the least. Moving would require some effort and a number of muscles, and she's perfectly comfortable as she is; the mattress has conformed to her shape, too.
"You're done for the day, aren't you," Ratchet observes, touching her wrist slightly.
She opens her optics that had halfway shuttered. "Yes, doctor, I believe I am."
He frowns slightly. "Did I use my doctor voice?"
She smiles as she lets her optics close. "No, Ratchet, you didn't use your doctor voice, and you didn't check my pulse either." She feels his chest rise slightly, she feels him pause. She feels the tremor of a silent chuckle, and she chuckles back.
"I suspect I can't help it anymore than you can help being a sassy upstart," he replies, pulling the blanket up over the both of them. "Hmm?"
"I expect so," she agrees, opening her optics to give him a good-natured smile before he flicks the light off. "Good night."
"Sleep well," he answers in the dark.
"Doctor's orders?" she teases, peeking at him to see his expression in the glow of her optics.
He gives her a sideways look with a snort of amusement. "Don't make me sedate you."
OoOoO
Sunstreaker, just back from an off-base patrol, makes a beeline to the pub with his plans for the immediate future very clearly set down in his processor. First, he'll get energon, then he'll go paint in his studio. That's the way to unwind from a patrol. Praxus might be at the studio, so he'll grab some extra energon and some snacks just in case.
In the glinting sun, he glances at the glittery dividing lines in the road and halfway shakes his helm. The paint is new but dry, and he knows his brother did it. He can only hope Prowl hasn't had a fit over it and that Sideswipe's punishment will be lenient.
'Why, twin?' he thinks. He knows why, but still, it's kinda annoying.
He opens the door to the pub and wanders in, stopping short in surprise when Starlight screeches at him from the counter.
"YEEECH!" Her tiny wings flick furiously. "NA! Ya gets outta here, Sun-Skreeker! GAWAY!"
He blinks, rather blindsided, and glances around for any adults, but Starlight is the only bot in sight, aside from himself. Huh.
"Go! A! Way!" she yells clearly and distinctly, wings twitching with each syllable.
"Hang on now," he says. He's pretty hungry, not to mention he's strongly resistant to being ordered out by a sparkling who really has no business screaming at him. "Have I done anything mean to you today?"
"Ya mean t' my brother back'en!" she accuses, glowering.
He shifts a shoulder as he saunters toward the counter. "We talked about this already, little spark. That was a long time ago, and I haven't done anything mean to him since. Now, remember the rule?"
"Ya 'member th' rule!" she shoots back.
"You're not allowed to complain about me until I do something mean, right?"
She glares at him. "Yeah. But, ya gonna," she says in a calmer voice.
"What do you think I'm gonna do?"
"Ya bad an mean, an ya gonna be bad an mean. An ya n'allowed ta do anything ta me."
Sunstreaker gazes at her and her defensive posture, absently wondering what she thinks he'd do to her. He wouldn't consider harming even a red-optic sparkling, let alone a blue-optic one. "I literally just came in here to get some energon, femling. I didn't even know you were here, okay?"
"No!" she stamps her pede. Sunstreaker is reminded of a much younger Prowl, but he doesn't smile.
"I just want two energon cubes. One for Praxus, one for me. And some snacks. That's it. I did not come to bother you."
She gives him a silent judgmental glare.
Sunstreaker shakes his helm and moves to go behind the counter.
Starlight squawks angrily.
"I'm not bothering you," he says, making a placating motion with his hands. "Where are the adults, anyway?"
"Maj is making noodles in the back fo my party," Starlight growls.
"Ah," Sunstreaker says. 'Fragger,' he thinks of Mirage. 'Probably listening to me get screamed at and laughing his aft off over it.'
Starlight runs over and kicks his hand as he reaches for a cube.
He frowns at her. "That was uncalled-for," he says, crossing his arms.
"Ya's uncalled-fo," she answers, crossing her arms as well and scowling up at him. "Meanie!"
He pauses. "Look, could I just two energon cubes, please? And then I'll go, and you won't have to see me for the rest of the day." He uses a flattering tone that he usually only uses on full-grown femmes.
She tilts a wing and picks up a cube. He's impressed with himself for precisely two seconds before she smashes the cube up into his face. A second later, he's blinking energon out of his optics and checking the impact point gingerly with his fingertips. He's going to have a definite bruise on his cheek, right by his mouth, he suspects, and, as he tastes life-energon in his mouth, he realizes that he has a busted lip, too.
"Ow…" he says mildly, now impressed by her. Sure, he's had limbs ripped off in the gladiator pits of Kaon and been shot and sliced on battlefields across the universe, so a busted lip isn't much comparatively, but this is a little femling. If she had been a full-size femme…
He moves away with a bit of respect.
She tilts a wing. She looks a bit calmer now.
He pulls a cloth from subspace, though, and she flinches but stands firm. Realization dawns on him in this tiny moment: she is so defensive because he'd abused her brother alone in the pub, and she's expecting him to mistreat her as well.
Slag.
"I… I wouldn't hurt you, Starlight," he says, optics lowering in shame as he dabs at the energon on face.
"Ya threwed energon in my brother's face every day an said mean things to hurt his spark," she answers, optics glinting.
"I would never do that to you, though. I would never do that to a sparkling."
"My brother's a sparkling-helm! You a meanie, an you a… a kypo-kit!"
Sunny opens his mouth to argue, and then he shuts it. He can be mean, and he does have hypocritical moments.
"I never forgetting," Starlight says, trembling, and Sunny can't argue. He would never forget either if someone mistreated his twin the way he'd mistreated Praxus. And he'd do worse things than smash an energon cube in their face, too.
He slips out the side door because it's closer, and then he goes around to the backdoor and opens it cautiously.
"Hi…" Mirage says, apologetic and halfway up to his elbows in noodle dough.
"Why the frag do you have sparkling running your counter?" Sunstreaker asks in a low voice, moving in and shutting the door, starting to wipe the energon off his armor.
"She insisted on helping me after I agreed to make noodles for her party."
"Ah." That makes sense. Another thing doesn't, though. "Why the actual frag, however, didn't you do anything when she started screaming?"
"You mean tell you to go away?" Mirage says, shaking a lump of dough. "I thought you'd do that yourself. And by the time I realized that you weren't, it sounded like things were almost under control."
"And then I got my face smashed by an energon cube," Sunstreaker states. He gives his armor a vigorous swipe, feeling frustrated with himself. "Yeah. I should have gone away."
"And I should have come out and said something. We all make mistakes, Sunstreaker. You weren't trying to upset her. You just weren't thinking."
"That's some consolation." He's a little sarcastic, but then he softens his tone. "The thing is-"
"She's coming," Mirage interrupts.
Sunstreaker deems it best to duck into the broom closet.
"Hey, little spark. I heard screaming. Is everything okay?" Mirage asks solicitously.
"Well… Sun-Skreeker came in…" Starlight sounds much smaller and sadder now, and Sunstreaker feels worse. He really should have left when she told him to. "So I screamed at'im."
"That's understandable," Mirage says.
"I… I… I… I smashed an cube on Sun-Skreeker's mean ol' face."
"Uhm… well, I understand that, too."
Sunstreaker hears a tiny sniffle and suppresses the urge swear at himself. She's at least about to cry, and it's his fault.
"He's so bad an mean."
"He's a lot nicer these days, but I know what you're talking about. Anyway, you're not in trouble with me, and I'm not going to tell on you. I don't think you'd smash a cube on anybody else's face, would you?"
She halfway laughs. "Naw. Ev'body else nice."
"There you go. You're fine then."
"Do… do you think he gon come back?" she asks in a tiny voice.
"I don't think he will. But if he does, you can yell for me, and I shall send him away instantly. Okay?"
"Okay," she says, sounding hugely relieved, and her sigh is audible to Sunstreaker, even through the shut door of the closet. "Well," she sounds more sure of herself now. "I need a mop or sum, so I can clean up the energon."
"Uh… right. If you want to grab a couple of those towels over there and just drop them over the puddle, that will do fine."
"Okay. Thank you, Maj."
Sunstreaker listens to her little pede-falls fade away, and then Mirage opens the closet door.
"I am an aft-plate."
Mirage halfway smiles. "I won't argue with that. And I'm a bit guilty myself. Anyway. You can plunder that shelf-" He motions to one of the shelves. "And then get out of here before she discovers that I'm aiding the enemy."
"Thanks, Raj," Sunstreaker says drily. He chooses a few things that he knows Praxus will like, adds a couple energon cubes, and then heads out.
When he reaches his studio, he finds both Praxus and Prowl there in the shop area, Praxus showing Prowl some different tubes of paint. Prowl. Slag.
"Hi, S-" Praxus starts, but then his wings flick up and he interrupts himself. "What happened to your face?!"
Sunstreaker had been expecting this question, and he'd prepared for it, but he hadn't counted on Prowl being there. Still, he gives it a shot. "Oh." He makes a dismissive motion. "Well, unlike your glorious self, I'm not popular with everybody. I'll survive, though." He holds up a cube of energon. "Honestly not interested in discussing some mild mishap of my personality. I brought snacks, and I'm full of painting ideas."
The nice thing about Praxus, Sunny reflects, is that if he tells the mechling that he doesn't want to talk about something and then redirects his attention, Praxus will drop the subject quite nicely. He's a very compliant and cooperative bot. Prowl, on the other hand, has to be an Enforcer.
"Your lip is still oozing a bit," Prowl says, moving toward the golden mech.
"Well, I talked, so yeah. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Praxus wanted me to pick out some paints to use. Turn you helm so I can look at your face."
"Fine, but don't touch me."
"Did someone on base hit you, or did this happen off-base?" Prowl asks, inspecting but not touching.
Sunstreaker knows better than to lie to Prowl. "On."
"You will need to file an incident report. That is a significant bruise."
'Slag,' Sunstreaker thinks. 'Slag, slag. Starlight…' He knows better than to try to get out of filing a report; Prowl won't let him, and Prowl will question it, and then Sunstreaker will have to explain himself verbally there with Praxus standing by. Not a scenario to be desired.
"It's barely a bruise," he objects, not about to cave too easily lest Prowl suspect something. "But whatever."
"Thank you," Prowl says. "Here." He offers up a small tub of balm that will take the sting out and slow the oozing.
"Thanks." Sunny accepts the balm. It's sort of a reward for not arguing too much, but mostly it's just Prowl doing his job of looking after bots. He dabs a little on his lip and rubs a bit more on his cheek. He sees Prowl's optics shift downwards across his armor and knows that Prowl is noticing something. "I'll get that report done right now, get it out of the way," he says, hoping that will buy Prowl's silence.
Prowl meets his optics with a slight look of curiosity. "That is a good idea, and I appreciate it."
Sunny hands the balm back. "Thanks." He heads for the studio door. "Are you coming to paint, Prax, or what?" he asks, hoping that young mech will follow; bringing Praxus into the studio with him will keep the mechling from speculating with Prowl about what happened.
"We still need to find some more paints," Praxus says, his hands full of tubes of paint.
Maybe that will keep his wondering processor occupied. "Okay. Lemme know if you need help." He shrugs and shuts himself in his studio.
Slaaaag, Prowl. He hadn't wanted to tell on Starlight, and Prowl has glitched that by demanding an incident report. He shouldn't have said he would do the report right away; if he'd been tardy about turning in the report, that would have given Starlight time to confess.
Glancing at his armor, he sees what caught Prowl's attention. While he'd wiped, most of the energon off, there were a few tiny traces of it, and, more noticeably, there was a considerable smear on his leg where he must have brushed up against something in the closet.
He shakes his helm, cleans up his armor, and then settles on the couch.
Is there a way to buy Starlight some time? He twiddles his stylus in one hand as he swipes around with the other to retrieve a blank incident form. Prowl is expecting him to hand over the report when he opens the studio door, so it's unlikely.
He starts filling in the day, time, and location portion.
He could ask.
He could ask Prowl to not read it until later.
Maybe, just maybe, if he gave Prowl a good reason, Prowl would refrain from reading it, out of mercy or something.
His pride stings a little at the thought of petitioning Prowl for anything, but he tamps it down. This is for Starlight. Because, while he may be an aft-plate, he's not totally a fragger.
He sighs.
He writes.
Entered the pub to get energon & Starlight attacked me verbally on sight. I reminded her of the rule but she was still hostile. I went to get a cube of energon for myself & she kicked my hand. I asked nicely for a cube & she smashed one on my face. I left after that.
He revises.
I entered the pub to get energon. Starlight attacked me verbally on sight and told me to go away. I disregarded her wishes. I reminded her of the rule, but she was still agitated and defensive. I went to get a cube of energon for myself, whereupon she kicked me. I asked nicely for a cube, whereupon she smashed one on my face. I realized that she thought I meant to bully her; I tried to explain that I wouldn't, but she wasn't convinced, so I deemed it best to leave.
He cycles air through his system, twiddles the stylus, revises a little more, and then signs the report.
Now the hard part.
Going to the door, he opens it, hoping that by some odd chance Prowl has left (but of course, he hasn't).
"Uh, Prowl… could I… speak with you privately a minute?"
"Certainly," Prowl answers. He gives Praxus a little touch on the arm and then leaves him, ignoring the look of mixed concern and curiosity on the younger mech's face.
Sunny considers briefly how Praxus will respond when he finds about what happened in the pub with Starlight. He doesn't like it.
"What is it?" Prowl asks once they are alone behind the studio door.
"I… uh… Well, the report is all written up for you. But…" He's looking at Prowl's glossy pedes. With a sigh, he makes himself meet Prowl's optics. "I… I would really appreciate it if you would wait until you hear from the other party before you read it. I… you should hear about it from them first. Please."
Prowl is quiet for several moments, and Sunny looks away, walling up his spark against a reprimand.
"It… is evidentially quite important to you, or you would not have asked," Prowl says slowly. "I will hold off reading it until after I have read the other party's report."
The fact that "the other party" can barely write her own name, let alone a report, makes Sunstreaker crack half a smile.
"Thank you, Prowl," he says, the genuineness of his gratitude showing in his tone.
Prowl nods.
Sunny hands over the report, and Prowl puts a little note on it before tucking it into subspace.
"There." Prowl makes a tiny bow of courtesy and then heads for the door, going out into the shop where Praxus is waiting. "Sunstreaker and I are done now, Praxling," he tells the slightly concerned mech, and then he redirects his attention. "I think he'll be interested in your paint therapy project and have some ideas for you, too." He takes the paints that Praxus has bundled up in a cloth. "I will see you later," he says, touching the edge of his wing against Praxus's for a moment. "Good day, Sunstreaker."
"Good day," Sunstreaker answers mildly, leaning against the doorjamb between the shop and his studio.
Praxus looks at them both curiously, but Prowl leaves without another word. If Sunny wants to share what happened, that is his business. Prowl has the report, and it is confidential. Even to himself, for the time being.
Having the report is enough for Prowl, though he wonders somewhat about its contents and the golden mech's odd request as he walks in the general direction of his office. Sunny is generally quite open about all violence, whether giving or receiving it, and has rarely shown any reticence to share the identity of his opponent.
Since he received the blow on base, shortly after returning from being off base, that narrows down the suspects for Prowl.
Prowl redirects his thoughts, however. The other bot will turn in a report, and then he will know. Speculating is unnecessary and hardly respectful of Sunny's request.
"Fancy meeting you here," Auri says, peeping at him from around the corner of a building.
"Hello," Prowl answers, smiling at her as she hurries over to join him. She gives him a little kiss since the street is quiet, and then he kisses her cheek before resuming his path with her walking beside him, fingers brushing. "You didn't happen to punch Sunstreaker, did you?"
"What-?!" she asks, giggling in astonishment. "I didn't. Though, I have thought about it in the past. Why?"
"Someone left a significant bruise on his face, and when he turned in the report, he asked me not to read it until after I had heard from the bot who did it. I agreed since it seemed important to him, but I find it highly unusual."
"That is unusual." Auri hums. "Well, it wasn't me. It still might be a femme, though. Or Sideswipe. It's probably Sideswipe."
Prowl tilts a wing. "I was trying to not speculate, but those are also my guesses."
Auri smiles up at him. "Shall I distract you to help you avoid speculating?"
"I believe I would both appreciate and enjoy that," Prowl replies with a twinkle in his optics.
"Well, we need to pick a location for our bonding ceremony."
"What do you think of the beach?"
She beams up at him. "Yes," she says in perfect delighted agreement.
"I think so, too. Though, we will need to take environmental safety precautions; part of the ceremony involves pouring energon on the ground. Putting down a protective barrier and then covering it with a layer of sand, which can then be cleaned afterwards, should do the trick, I think."
"That sounds like a good plan. Percy can do that easily, I'm sure."
"Yes. And we will need to which section of the beach we want. It should be fairly easily accessible, so that narrows it down slightly."
They discuss the various options for the next couple blocks, and then Auri gives Prowl's hand a little tug.
"Let's see how Starlight is doing with the energon," she says, tilting her helm toward the pub door.
Prowl nods with a smile, and they go in.
"Hi!" Starlight calls happily, waving to them.
"Hello!" Auri calls back as she and Prowl notice that there several bots at the counter but no bots at the tables. "Are you having fun?"
"Yeah! It fun! I getta see ev'body!" Starlight reports eagerly as Prowl and Auri come up to the counter. "What energons ya wants? We have regular, an sweet, an half-half. An I can put in one of these spices!" She points proudly to a tray of spices, all neatly labeled. "An there are snacks, too."
"I'll let Auri pick for both of us," Prowl says. "I'm going to say hello to Mirage."
"Okay! Em still making noodles back there."
Prowl moves around behind the counter and gives Starlight's helm a caress as he passes by her.
"How is it going?" Prowl asks after Mirage has said hello.
"It's going well," Mirage answers, considerably into the noodle-making process. "It's not what I had planned, but it's going well. I was going to have her take orders and then I would fill them, but she was terribly insistent on filling them herself," he explains. "I think she realized that that wouldn't actually cut down much of my work. And she's stubborn, so here we are. Don't let the humans find out."
Prowl pauses. "What... what do humans have to do with this?"
"Child labor, mech." Mirage holds up a dough-covers hand.
Prowl's wings shift as he tries to understand this perspective. "I doubt the humans will think sitting on a counter for a couple hours and handing out energon is child labor. Don't they have… some league of children that sell cookies?"
Mirage chuckles, relaxing. "The Girl Scouts. There is that. I just don't want to look bad. She's happy and having fun. But, humans…"
"They often misjudge others."
"Precisely."
"Order ready fo Prowl!" Starlight yells with gusto.
"I must go," Prowl says. "Intercom if there any issues or if you need any sort of assistance."
"Thank you, I shall," Mirage answers as Prowl heads out to claim his order.
"Here ya go," Starlight says, pointing to a bag.
"Thank you," Prowl says, smiling as he takes in the happiness on her face and the cheerfulness conveyed in the tilt of her little wing. "Is it going well?"
"Yeah, it gon well! I told Auri, too," she says, bouncing her pedes a little. "I got energon for Op'mus Prime even! An Arcee, an Chromia, an…" Her smile fades as she trails off. "I forgot…" she says, her wings flaring in a defensive motion as her face clouds.
"Forgot what?" Auri asks, looking concerned. Prowl is concerned as well, but now he has a sudden, odd suspicion that he knows what she's going to say.
"Sun-skreeker came in," Starlight says, the corners of her mouth digging down. Prowl's suspicion is confirmed then, and his wings shift slightly; he's going to have to deal with some bots. Starlight reads an impending critique in the motion, and tears well up in her optics, her lower lip trembling, as she continues, "I know I gets in trouble fo yellin ats em, but nobody was here an he could hurt me-!" she cries.
"What happened?" Prowl asks gently, asking for Starlight's sake as Auri puts a comforting arm around her.
"He wouldn't go way when I told'em, an he came over close!" Her little frame shaking now, and she sniffles. "I smashed an energon in his face." She presses her hands to her optics.
"Aw, Starlight," Auri says, putting both arms around Starlight now and hugging her close. She looks at Prowl, but he has too many thoughts to find any words to utter, so she turns back to Starlight. "It's okay, sweet spark. You're not in trouble for smashing a cube in his face," she says. "He didn't listen to your request to leave you alone, and you have the right to protect yourself. I know he wouldn't have hurt you, but he made you very uncomfortable, and that wasn't right."
"I thought him gon throw energon on me like he did Pwax," Starlight confesses, hiding her against Auri's shoulder. "An say all mean things."
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Auri murmurs, rubbing Starlight's back gently.
Prowl has Sunny's report out of subspace in an instant.
I entered the pub to get energon. Starlight instantly screamed at me to go away, but I disregarded her wishes, and I shouldn't have. Instead, I reminded her of the rule. She was still agitated and defensive, but I went to get a cube of energon for myself, and she kicked me. I asked nicely for a cube, but she smashed one on my face. I realized then that she thought I meant to bully her, as I had Praxus. I tried to explain that I wouldn't mistreat her, but I couldn't convince her, not after everything I'd done to Praxus. I finally left at that point.
"Prowl," Auri whispers. He looks up and finds his beloved giving him a tiny perplexed frown that she directs down to the data-pad. No, now is not the time for data-pads. He puts the pad away quickly and reaches over to rub Starlight's helm.
"I didnin't like it," Starlight says.
"I would think not," Prowl says softly. "I am sorry that happened, little one. I will speak to Sunstreaker about it. While your responses to Sunstreaker are usually uncalled for, he was not helpful in this case. You're not in trouble."
"I didnint want to be in trouble," Starlight explains, sniffling. "I jus wanted be s-safe."
"Absolutely," Auri says. "You deserve to be safe."
"I didnint smash cubes on an'body else," Starlight says, perking up a bit.
"I would be very shocked if you threw cubes at anybody else, sweet spark," Prowl says. "Now, let's dry your optics, and you can forget about Sunstreaker because I'll take care of him."
Starlight nods and turns her face to Prowl so he can wipe her tears away.
"There you are. Boop," he taps her nose softly, making her giggle. "Now you tell Auri about the other customers, the good ones, and I'll be back shortly."
"Okay, Prowl." Starlight nods contentedly, her little wings relaxing as he plants a kiss on her helm.
Prowl goes back into the backroom where Mirage is making long smooth cuts in the noodle dough. The blue and white mech looks up as he senses someone approaching, and when he sees that it's Prowl with a look on his face, he shifts, instinctively, to a slightly defensive stance.
"I thought Sunstreaker would leave when she told him to," he explains with ill-ease, already knowing what put that burning glint in Prowl's optics. "And then it sounded like things were under control- though, then they weren't. I… I am sorry."
Prowl doesn't say anything.
Mirage keeps quiet, knowing that fewer words are usually better. His optics flick toward Prowl's wings, the wings that might, occasionally, but not today, give him some hint as to what is going on in Prowl's processor.
Prowl takes several slow steps toward him. "She is a sparkling, Mirage," he says, something low in his tone making Mirage's armor shift closer toward his frame. "A sparkling." He takes the pasta knife from Mirage's hand, staring Mirage in the optics. "Sparklings are supposed to be protected and made to feel safe. She did not feel safe." Prowl rests the tip of the knife on Mirage's chest plating. "She was not protected."
Mirage keeps very still.
"If she yells, you go to her. If she screams, you run to her. You do na leave things to resolve themselves on their own. Do ya hear?"
"Y-yes, Commander."
"Such negligence is entirely unacceptable."
"I realize that. I do now," Mirage says, lifting his hands halfway in a placating motion. "And I didn't realize at the time that it was negligence. She behaves so maturely for one so small and acts like she can handle…" he trails off as one of Prowl's wings tilts. "Well, I was wrong."
"Yes, you were. And na for the first time." Prowl moves the knife away and drops it on the counter as he turns on a pede to leave. In the doorway, with his back to Mirage, he pauses midstride and calls back over his shoulder, "Auri is going to stay to 'help' Starlight in case 'it gets busy,'" emphasizing the words so Mirage knows that that is hardly why Auri is staying.
"Understood, sir," Mirage says. He watches Prowl leave, and he opens an intercom to Sunstreaker.
::Mech… Prowl just practically threatened me with a pasta knife when he found out that I did nothing when you came in and upset Starlight.::
::Slag,:: Sunny responds mildly.
::And he left Auri to babysit.::
::Well, don't let her mix any spices, or the energons won't taste good.::
::What? That's not why I'm intercomming. I meant to warn you.::
::Oh. Well, I already knew I was gonna get fragemented, but thanks anyway.::
Mirage signs off with a shake of his helm and then picks up the pasta knife as his cooling system sighs quietly. He glances out at the two Praxian femmes and inadvertently catches Auri's optics. She shrugs one wing coolly at him, and he knows he's not in her good graces either.
He turns his attention back to the noodles, starting to cut them again, grateful that he isn't in Sunstreaker's place.