Disclaimer: Hasbro and Takara-Tomy own Transformers. I just like hounding their giant robots.

Warnings: All of the warnings! You get a trail-mix variety if you squint!

It's also the crack chapter! I revamped a practice chapter and wanted to do something fun for the end of the year.


"All My Ex's Are Crying in Club Texas"

"Come on, Optimus, it's a great idea!"

Cypress let one audio perk up in her beast-mode and nudged Terri to stop. They were going for their daily walk. "Daily" because the bird spent the day following Cypress around the ship.

Terri was good company and took to ship life well. The bird liked climbing up anything taller than herself and sprinting full speed down an empty hall screeching like a banshee. Other than that, Terri hung close for protection.

It was either take a walk or remain stuck in a room with two frosty roommates. In some ways, the sync had done them good. The bond was quieter. If she focused too hard, she could hear elevator music, but it was better than panic attacks. Now they had something far more daunting to deal with: themselves.

Cypress lurked around the corner from Jazz's ongoing conversation. On all fours and leaning against the wall, she found the vibrations filled in what she couldn't hear.

"C'mon, it would be actual shore leave."

"I am not disagreeing. It worries me we've had a streak of incidents whenever someone leaves the ship."

"My point exactly; we haven't had a proper break."

"You're looking into the next trade port?"

"Already have. Local net is saying it's small and crowded enough we won't have much of a problem fitting in. I'd paint on a disguise just to be safe."

It caught Cypress off guard when Ratchet piped up. "They have a bar scene?"

"Yup."

"Good, I don't want to remember my name by the time we leave. I can stock up on a few supplies before."

Next to her, someone growled–something growled.

Cypress let Terri huddle onto her back and dig her claws in. The Preda flashed her fangs in warning before putting distance between her and Gasket.

The mangled steeljaw wasn't going anywhere, nor was the turbofox staring to nuzzle into her side.

"Hey, Gidget. Down…"

They were after Terri again.

The turbofox purred, then pranced off. It never ceased to amaze Cypress how similar they looked to each other in plating design. The pets' spark of intelligence wasn't as sharp as a sentient being. It was still there, though.

Their caravan slowed at her room. Correction, her shared room. Cypress was still ambiguously bitter about having to share. On the one hand, she liked the company. On the other…

She barreled in, crouching for a giant leap, and landed on her berth. Voltage's beast-mode glowered from beneath a tarp while RoadRage grasped at her spark.

"Do you mind?" the vehi-mode sputtered.

Terri squealed and slid beneath the Seeker's tarp. Cypress folded herself into a ball. "What?"

"You nearly gave me a spark attack!"

Gasket pawed at Rager's leg, begging for pets, which she obliged.

Cypress let her tail wag freely, "We're going to stop again. For fun this time."

Neither looked too excited.

"Already?" Rager pushed back from the desk on Cypress' side.

"It's actual time off."

"Not too wild about bar hopping." Voltage curled into Terri.

The bounty hunter shrugged, "Well, I won't turn down an offer."

A cycle later, in the middle of a crowded market, Cypress wished she'd thought this shore-leave idea through.

Mechanoid, organic, inorganic, some indescribable beings somewhere between; the Backrange Outpost open-air market had them all.

Cypress stared in slack-jawed amazement.

Her sister snatching her out of the way of a humanoid giant rattled her back to reality.

This time, the Preeker linked their arms, elbow-in-elbow, as she navigated the crowd behind Rager.

"It's not too late to be sent back with the pets." She joked.

RoadRage jolted as the Seeker linked arms with her, too, "Come on, let's see the sights."

Voltage redirected them by pure stubbornness, finally stopping at a food stall. "Just a moment."

Voltage flagged the arachnid vendor down, spitting blurbs of static. The vendor nodded as several of his many arms shot back to prepare food. The other two came forward to accept payment.

She handed over a few shiny, multicolored stones for a bag of fat danishes. They looked like danishes, at least. Voltage immediately bit into one, one arm possessively shielding the snacks from the crowds. The Seeker munched with her optics out of focus, "Sorry, they're Stuffed Cyber Slugs. You know, for everyone."

RoadRage took one. "What flavor are these?"

"Berrilium, acid, quartz frosting."

"Nice."

Cypress made a face that the older femme noticed.

"You need to eat something besides energon and fish, kiddo. Faction rations only go so far. You'll stunt your growth."

Cypress stared into the crinkling bag with apprehension. Each neon green roll looked frosted with asbestos and leaking blue or purple. "I'm already stunted."

Volt jammed a danish into her mouth. It tasted like someone turned sour candy into a pastry, then jello, and decided to reverse engineer it to be all three at once.

"Good?" Voltage ventured.

The thick lump finally dislodged from the back of her throat, "It's squishy. No."

"Aw."

Voltage lost herself in the treat bag.

"How did you two start working for factions?"

Cypress studied Rager, "Ran into Bee in town, then injured in the woods behind my house. He was trying to stalk me, but a fourth party attacked him. Massicons came. My guardian died. I'm wanted by a paramilitary group and these scary 'formers. Been friends with the Bots ever since."

Voltage held her helm high, "I always have had a faction. I've been specially selected and trained to destabilize them. It is my first mission." She drew Cypress close, "They grew us in the same tube."

"Really?"

"Thought it was public knowledge, Sunshine knows," Cypress grumbled.

"So? It's not about him." The Preeker said, "Today is for us."

"Kinda fragged he knows your private info." Rager trailed. "Why aren't you both new-builds? Wouldn't they need two who can actually fight? No offense."

Cypress hummed. "What did you say, Vo? One of the mechs on the program thought I was like his late friend. They didn't upgrade me before the Bots."

"Smart. No one suspects the kid." RoadRage said.

"I didn't know! I wouldn't hurt you guys on purpose."

RoadRage didn't answer immediately, and the silence stretched too long to continue.

Cypress picked at her wrists. "How'd you end up out here anyways?"

Still quiet, RoadRage leaned against a guardrail overlooking a roadway. "I wanted to see more of the universe, and Drift hated being stuck in my village. It was either that or take up the family business and become a merchant. Didn't feel like it. I wanna explore before I settle down." Scuffed digits flexed and unflexed, "You know Drift was trying to stab a rod through his spark when we met? Caught him just before he started."

Cypress blinked.

Voltage lit on the same railing, leaning over Rager's shoulder, "And you're following him around to ensure he doesn't?"

RoadRage grunted, and she kept her optics on the traffic. She didn't push the Seeker away. "How badly can your people make the Decepticons hurt, Voltage?"

"Pardon?"

She eyed them with folded arms, "You never said which faction, femme. You're going after both?"

"It all depends on the call I get."

"Let me know if I can help."

"It may involve attacking Autobots."

"As long as it's not our group."

Cypress leaned over the edge to look at her first roommate better. Her face had gone rigid and stiff. Determined.

RoadRage met their optics, "Both of you are Autobot-made, aren't you."

"Yeah," Cypress answered barely above a whisper.

"Forgive me for saying, but most Cybes don't care too much for Predas. Not fair of them to drop you into a war that doesn't concern you. The Cons used Drift like a tool too."

Voltage shrugged, "He's a big boy; he can choose for himself."

"There's a difference between choosing and being forced to choose. You'd know. Bots had a part in killing my younger cousin. Bots and Cons were the final nail in making my family leave Cybertron. Anything I can do to help strike back, let me know."

"You trust me?"

"No, but I wouldn't turn down a good fight. It's only fair."

Voltage brightened.

Cypress supposed you had to bond over something.

RoadRage actually smiled, "We should go to an oil bath while we're here."

The last thing Cypress wanted was to be vulnerable around more strangers. "Not again. We just got clean!"

"Trust me. It's worth it." Rager urged, pushing her ahead.

And the oil baths were. Cypress never thought a warm pool of oil would be welcome. It was hard to leave.

There didn't seem to be an abundance of mecha in the establishment. Cypress half expected to see one of the guys soaking. She hadn't seen them at all after leaving the ship. The Ark crew had vanished. A needy part of her processor said they'd leave them stranded here. The bond said they weren't far.

There was a 'special offer' Rager was haggling over, something about detailing.

Cypress thought nothing of it until someone had lined the corners of her optics in powder blue and given her frame a complete polishing.

As it turned out, Rager wasn't creamy red; she was carmine. The femme was just faded as hell.

Voltage got the full frame work-up and electric blue 'weep-lines' around her optics that put her in the mind of a bird of prey.

Cypress felt pretty for a change, more magical than monstrous.

"Was I right?" Rager teased.

"Yeah!" Cypress remained on cloud nine until Voltage pulled her hurt wing at an awkward angle. The detailer worked around it as well as she could. Having it cleaned too many times in a row had aggravated it.

"That's it…"

"What?"

"We're fixing you."

"That's a faction violation, isn't it?" Rager ventured.

"So? It's hurting her, and neutrals don't have sides."

Cypress picked the nearest repair vendor, "Do you have flier parts?"

"Depends. What can you pay?"

It was then Cypress realized her wallet was back on Earth. The ratty thing was probably in an evidence locker. Or it was buried in the woods. Either way, it couldn't help her now—time for a different approach.

The vendor mech's stall looked plain and uninteresting, but there was an influx of old datapads.

"I can make your stall look more appealing."

His unblinking visor showed no sign of interest.

Voltage tapped on her helm, "I can pay. It's my repairs."

"But I want to be useful."

The parts vendor finally shrugged, "Knock yourself out. You can use the scrapped parts."

"What are you up to?"

"We're gonna make an ad board. I just need to get this screen up and running."

Voltage jammed her servo into the pile. Multiple screens lit as the wires unwound themselves. Cypress linked the lit ones and began attaching them to the entrance. RoadRage towered over her to get the higher parts. Several twisted wires and one disposable chip later, there was a loop of falling gears trickling down the screens.

"Good enough for a part?"

The mech studied Voltage and nodded. "Alright. Flight hinge or something else?"

A kilk later, Cypress had applied venom to her wing and was fighting to replace the missing part at the base of Voltage's outstretched wing. Meanwhile, Rager was thumbing through a holo of Seeker anatomy.

"You're sure you want me to do this?" Cypress blurted.

"Yes. You're not skilled enough to permanently ground me on purpose."

"Wow, thanks."

Voltage shifted in discomfort.

"Still hurts?"

"Of course, just hurry."

"Rager?"

"Got the right page. How come you two have such screwed-up insides? OW!"

Voltage chuckled as the static rolled off of the bounty hunter's frame.

"You're a menace."

"Thank you."

"What are y'all doing?"

Cypress started as Jazz seemed to appear out of thin air. Fortunately, the only spines that shot up were along her back instead of the ones on her arms going through Voltage's fuel lines. No, her servos started trembling after being caught.

"Team building exercise," Cypress said.

"Sup." Voltage smirked back at the unamused Ops head.

"What did we say about POWs?"

"Her wing is hurting." Cypress deadpanned.

"Good!"

"Not very Autobot of you, Jazzy."

"Anyway, I need you all for something. I'm putting on a show. Wanna earn some credits?" He paused for an answer.

"No, no. Keep talking," Rager said, "I'm telling Gridlock. Let your second carrier wash your mouth out with solvent."

He softened, "Fine, it ain't that kind of show. What you did for that mech… can you do that on a stage?"

"Yeah…"

"Great!"

RoadRage readjusted her grip on the pad, "You could have commed. Were following us, Jazz?"

"Oh, I'm always following you."

Cypress stopped soldering the last few delicate wires. Jazz stood completely stoic, his typically blue visor powered off. "Are you okay?"

"Bye."

The Preda-wolf watched their Ops head vanish back into the market in a hurry. "Rager, he has a crush on you."

"I know…he's like my kid brother. Poor thing."

Voltage cackled.

Jazz wasn't flustered enough to not send them coordinates to the nightclub.

It was just as seedy as she expected, all its flaws hidden in darkness and soaked in blacklight. There weren't many patrons yet, but the band was tuning their instruments. A slinky, thylacine-like creature, the host–she assumed, was keeping conversation with the small crowd.

Voltage and RoadRage split off to the bar. Cypress kept going to the backstage entrance.

"Jazz?"

The faceless head of gemstone being lifted from a pile of audio equipment. "Cybertronian, your friend!"

Cypress tried and failed not to stare at what was a living humanoid made of crystal.

"Amh coming!" Jazz slid down some ceiling rigging line and landed hard. "Right, we're over here."

Cypress settled behind the new alien computer. "What are you doing on stage anyway?"

"Singing!"

She wasn't surprised. It was in Jazz's name, and The Ark hadn't been quiet since they'd passed through her solar system's spacebridge. Half of that was due to the fact Cybertronians were incapable of being quiet unless they were hunting. If Jazz sang, it got drowned out.

"What's your setup?"

"I'm doing some classics." he plugged one of his chips into the monitor, loading a playlist. "Just need some background visuals. Gon is doing effects."

"I am he." the gemstone said, "Nice to meet you both."

Cypress nodded to the new guy. "What mood are we going for?"

"Drunk, aft-shaking party. I've got some old visuals, mostly solid schemes, and I've got a few old holo-vid clips. If we do our jobs right, no one will notice, and they'll be too into the music."

Drunk party…she could do that.

Jazz balked at the images she loaded, including but not limited to a barely clad orange-haired model. "You got away with drawing this?"

"Until Eric ratted me out. I really needed a high-end laptop one year. I don't enjoy it, but sexy sells. Wanna see my pfp?"

Cypress loaded up her old mascot, Yvette: long legs, flowy pink hair, blue eyes, string bikini. She was the perfect wallpaper and marketing material. "Yvette moves too, and I did some singing animations."

"Oh, that'll work great."

"Think it'll impress Rager?"

He made a pained noise. "You ever like someone with your whole spark? To the point it hurts?"

"No. I just get a weird case of indigestion."

"That's called attraction, kiddo." He kept a lovestruck grin, "Rager was cool. I never grew out of likin' her."

Cypress grinned, "Aww, it's just like the movies. People eat the childhood friends-to-lovers plot up. You could make a decent three seasons off of that alone. More if you don't mind pissing people off."

"You'll understand when you're older. There's no sense in waiting. We could be dead tomorrow. Let's kill' it tonight."

They pieced together what order the visuals would come up in, and Gon put them into his set. Occasionally another gem creature would stop to watch.

Prowl and Sunny came to talk, and Sideswipe looted the artwork she didn't like. Cypress elected not to ask why the frontliner wanted it and set a reminder to delete what remained later. Showtime was getting closer, and she chugged the nearest energon.

The fumes alone made her HUD bluescreen.

Before her tank could react, Jazz nudged her out of the chair.

"Go on. It's almost time; we've got it from here."

Cypress nodded and hefted a roll of wiring over one shoulder to move it away. That sent her stumbling over another gem creature, the same one that had been hanging around.

"Sorry."

"Actually, I'd like to talk to you." The other humanoid creature paused, his eyeless face canted as his mouth pursed in concentration. "I'd hate to be so forward, but I believe we've met."

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently, all mechanoids look alike, dude."

He followed her to a table near the back. Cypress accepted she had company.

"So you do music?" She tried.

"Yes. I've always loved it. Does your friend perform often?"

"Not that I've seen."

Jazz took the stage without fanfare, quietly pulling the old-fashioned mic closer. Gradually his voice rose with an unfamiliar song, bright but lonely and longing. And then the bass displaced the room's air like a fireball. What had been a loud club scene erupted into sound, light, and soul.

Her systems took a moment to adjust, longer to piece together what was happening. Jazz seized control of the crowd with his voice alone. They held on with every rise and fall of tone and drove her sensors to static. Cypress loved it.

"He's good!"

"Yes!" her new friend crowed.

On the next track, something only described as someone using falling alien snow and rock shards as an instrument, the gem being bumped her.

"This is mine. I made this!"

"I like it!"

Jazz tore through the following songs in his set until he moved on to an Earth one. It wasn't until halfway through she noticed they were the only hyper idiots screaming the lyrics in the crush of bodies.

Something about his frenzied dancing made the back of her processor itch.

Jazz's set finally ended. It was just in time too. Cypress thought her nervous system was going to combust.

"I haven't had that much fun in forever."

Cypress looked back. "I have seen you before. You do music…"

One of its six limbs reached out hesitantly. "Ky-Anne?"

"No one calls me—VLAD?!" She knelt, crushing the shorter being in a hug.

Said hug was returned ten-fold. Cypress' abused HUD began sending out pressure warnings.

"I thought that was you! The hip motions on the hologram told off on you."

She cackled, swinging them around. "You still make music!"

"That's why I'm here!"

"What happened after you left Sawback?"

"I met more Monolith on the way, made it out here. That's what I am, a Monolith. Earth is a brooding ground. And you are also alien, a mechanoid!"

"Yeah, that was a fun surprise. Transformer. Whee."

"Suits you better. I told you your aura didn't quite fit."

Maybe it was the natural nitro coursing through her systems or that she'd downed more energon than she needed before they'd gone on. Still, something bubbly spread up from her spine and across her face. "God, I missed you."

The next seconds were dark and tasted like rock salt.

Somewhere in their lectures, Ratchet should have mentioned how pleasurable kissing was. Despite the species gap, Vlad seemed to be enjoying himself. He pulled himself up higher, nearly straddling her. Cypress still couldn't get her HUD back online.

Someone was talking loudly. Then the intruder was looming over them and shaking Vlad.

"Just a min—" he glanced around and lapsed from English to his chime-like language, then again in Universal Standard. "Sorry, Ky, this is Mica–"

The other Monolith wasn't in the mood to speak. They looked panicked.

Before he could finish, an orange and blue helm settled on her shoulder.

"Cyyyy." Voltage drawled, "Naughty, naughty. Help me find Ratty; I need a hangover patch."

Cypress swiped at the Seeker's energon-smeared mouth. "Voltage. You're wasted already?"

"I'm not losing a bet to Rager. I won." She beamed.

"Uh, Vlad, this is my sister. We gotta go."

"You have a communicator number?"

"Yeah!"

"Can I use your arm?"

Cypress nodded enthusiastically, not minding the impending scars a bit. Before he could start another, the more prominent Monolith made a grinding noise nearby.

Vlad whined, and the other Monolith pointed back to their tiny group of two others.

"I'm sorry, we…we aren't allowed. There's a mechanoid ban. They're scared of you guys."

Cypress squeezed his arm in understanding. "I'll see you around the net?"

"Farrago, that's my handle."

"I'm still Ky-Anne."

She got a final, surprise insistent, goodbye kiss, and her old collaborator disappeared into the crowds.

Cypress wiped at mouth lazily, trying to remove the traces of luminescent mineral grit. "See you 'round."

The wolf Predacon turned around to realize she'd been in full view of her team. Judging from Sideswipe's gaping, slag-eating, grinning faceplate and Ratchet not looking surprised in the least—they'd seen the whole thing.

"WOLFY!"

"No."

"WOLFY."

"SHUT UP!"

"You never said you had a lover!"

That word made her want to purge more than the mystery energon crawling through her insides. Walking was more complicated than she remembered, and it wasn't because she was dragging Voltage with her.

RoadRage hauled them the last few yards. "You can barely stand, youngling."

Voltage took her seat as if she hadn't been plastered a nano ago. Meanwhile, everyone was more than a few drinks in.

Now even Hide was joining in. "Explain yourself, soldier."

"I don't have a lover. He was just a runaway. I helped him stay hidden in the woods while Social Services was around. We collaborated on a few projects before he left the area."

"Collaboration…is that what you call it in your circle?" Voltage teased, stone-faced.

"Videos. Animatics. Amvs. Nothing happened! He just kissed me before he left for good. We stayed in contact off and on."

Everyone was still staring.

"What?"

"You're like an alien magnet," Jazz bobbed his helm sagely as if discovering a new piece of information. "And dumb. Yah know how Monolith get so big? They eat Cybertronian spark cases and siphon energy too."

"Would have been good to know backstage…Good job, by the way," The lightheaded and dizzy sensation was making more sense. Her HUD registered a light singe from the dusty smear on her cheek. It wasn't coming off. "I thought he was a human too. It doesn't count."

"Kid, I thought you were like Prowl." Ironhide shook his helm.

"Stiff in the worst way," Sunstreaker put in.

"Hey, my love life is none of y'all's business. And neither is his. If he wants to be alone, let him."

"It becomes a problem when you're about to start an interspecies conflict," Prowl added.

Seemed the dour mech wasn't put out by the comments directed at him. No, he was more concerned with the remaining Monolith glaring at their team. Much like the rock monster, Bumblebee was burning holes into his cube, not looking up.

A whole new flush of humiliation sent her vents into overdrive. "Can we go home now?"

"Not quite. Here comes their leader." Optimus said lowly.

Sure enough, Vlad was frog-marched by the more prominent Monolith of a murky, translucent color. He sized them up and began in very accented Cy-Stan, "Which of you leads?"

Optimus stood, making the head Monolith lean back slightly to reach his line of sight.

"You will excuse our shard's conduct and relay to yours that no further contact is permitted, despite past acquaintance. We do not wish to involve ourselves with Mechanoid conflicts. Even if there were no war between your kind, I don't believe this would affect any of us for the better."

Cypress accepted the non-frown directed her way.

"Cypress?" Optimus began.

She directed her response to Prime, not the head Monolith. "I understand, sir." Then she gestured to Vlad, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Take care of yourself," Vlad nodded weakly, wary of the tightening grip on his arm.

The head Monolith made a noise requesting acknowledgment.

"I have nothing to say to you, sir."

"Disrespectful—"

Voltage flinched when she slammed a clawed servo onto the table and stood, spines rising into an angry, neon-blazing mohawk. For once, Cypress could look her opponent in the face without panicking.

Her voice dropped to a pitch that vibrated their cubes, "You're taking my best composer away. Don't ask me to feel nothing about it."

One of his arms rippled in warning, ugly barbs rising along it.

"Point taken. I think you should leave." Prime rumbled.

The Monolith made a move to do so. Cypress tried not to stare into his 'skin'. The closer she focused, the more the crystal started to resemble trapped sparks.

"Like he said, beat it." Ironhide barked. Their entire table stood as well.

"Very well." The Monolith backed away.

"Stand down."

Reluctantly, she lowered her spines, never breaking optic contact with the Monolith.

They left slowly, the head making sure they could hear, "This is why we have no contact with them. They are a war species—"

Bee cupped his servos and let out a comparative roar in the now muted club, "Hey! Screw you and the crap you flew in on."

If the Monolith understood, they only got a nasty 'frown' in return.

Cypress stared into the table, willing her optics to stop burning. Her claws were buried in the table's scarred surface. "How long until this wears off?"

"The play bite or the engex you chugged?"

Cypress didn't recall being bitten or drinking– "Ah, frag."

Jazz scooted over and thumped her on the back, :: Come on, kid, no clicking in club. Only partying. You're smudging your liner. ::

"I wanna stab that afthole so badly—" she gurgled, digging her claws into her helm instead. The whiplash had her biting back aggression she didn't intend on releasing.

"So you're a mean drunk." Voltage mused.

"'M not fraggin' drunk!"

"I mean, most 'formers don't get their highs from toxic species, but to each their own."

Monolith were toxic?

"Come on, kiddo. You can take it out on the next Cons we run across. Drink this."

"Jazz, I swear you had better not get her drunk." Prowl hissed.

"I'm not stupid! I remember last time."

"What was last time?" Cypress managed, still barely able to make out the purpleish liquid before her.

"Prowl stayed overcharged for a mega-cycle and ripped another mechling's face open." Optimus supplied, "He was responsible for a new drinking policy in Iacon."

"You were drunk the whole time?" Bumblebee gaped.

"He used to be better at holding his charge than most." Sunny put in.

"I stopped for you." Prowl put in.

Now it was Bee's turn to stare at the table.

Prowl stirred his energon around, "And I wound up ruining my tanks. No drinking."

"I wouldn't say no drinking," Ratchet said. "What? You've all snuck and done it as younglings. You might as well try it in front of adults, but not now. It's not a coping mechanism."

"Why does everyone say that and then do the exact opposite?" Bee wailed. His fans were running a little too hard for him not to be tipsy.

"Because everything is a contradiction. Drink the apothecary brew." Ratchet set another before him.

She chugged down the suspicious substance and retched.

"This taste like scrap, Jazz."

Bee wasn't faring much better. He pulled a piece of chain-link out of his mouth. "What was that?!"

"It's a hangover brew!"

"Now I'm sad, and my mouth tastes like asphalt."

"And?"

"And torqued off you made me drink it."

"There you go! Both of you go again."

"Please, no."

"If I do, I'm gonna purge, and we're all going to be unhappy," Bee groaned.

"Okay then, we can cry on the ship. Block it out for now."

"And we've got reason to celebrate! We've got more adventurers!"

"Be quiet. The lizard people are staring." Ironhide warned.

"Lizards are rad. Where?" Cypress looked around blearily.

"You gonna do art of them?" Bumblebee sniffed.

"Yup."

"Pick the one with the barnacles." He nodded.

Ironhide forced their helms down. "They speak Cy-Stan. Shut up."

"How come you're scared of lizards?" Cypress blurted.

"Ask Sides."

Bee shrugged, "Then there's the hard-light people. They're like all energy. They're pretty nice."

Probably humoring the curious stares, the younglings got a big wave from a spindly, flaming one in return.

"Sit down before you two start a fight."

"But they've got seats free!"

Ratchet groaned, "Whoever's listening, strike me down now…"

"Oh, come on, you're the OG Party Ambulance, Ratch!" Sideswipe only increased in volume, "Wolfy! Ratch! Myself! To boldly frag where no 'former has fragged before!"

This time Ratchet did strangle Sideswipe. "And Wheeljack is next for telling you!"

Sunstreaker stood abruptly, "Guys, we gotta go. I see Bailey, five o'clock."

Sideswipe froze, then ducked out of Ratchet's embrace. "Bye!"

They were hustling out, Prowl handling the tab.

"Who's Bailey?"

"Sides' ex," Bee supplied, "Not a pretty situation, bad break up. It turns out Iguanas are capable of eating Cybertronians too."

"Ah."

There was one more bar and one more hangover brew. It was the only drink that fought off her surprise poisoning. Then again, poison wasn't supposed to make you feel this at ease. Cypress had long forgotten about being nervous. Now was the time to absorb the atmosphere. Aside from the building, there wasn't much to see. Ironhide had been elected sparkling-sitter and would let she or Bee leave the table.

Cypress could only keep track of moments. Every light threw shapes that matched the inside of a kaleidoscope. Their party finally ended back inside the safety of The Ark.

The old guys were laughing hard. RoadRage came over to talk loudly.

Voltage complained their room had no windows, so Cypress pulled her to the observatory.

They slept, and Cypress stayed in her private world of hazy light.

Bumblebee came to sit.

Cypress accepted pretending to be drunk was not going to work. "So…"

"So…" Bee mimed back.

"Are you mad about Vlad?"

"Mad, no, jealous—yeah." He finally admitted. "You two were close, then."

"A little more than a working relationship. You've ever dated anyone?"

"This femme from Gobotron. Ended about as well as you two. He's got good taste." Bee ended awkwardly.

"Mech, you're not a rebound. I—don't want anything to happen to you." She frowned, "Also, all I can taste is asphalt and disappointment, and I might need a quarantine after that biting thing." She patted his servo, "But definitely."

"Okay."

"Remarkable restraint for younglings."

"Prowl!" Bee hissed.

"What?"

"I was enjoying the show…" Voltage grumbled.

"Recharge it off," Prowl folded himself crosslegged, settling on a mat, "Thank you."

Cypress made a face, "For what?"

"Your defense, even if I didn't need it, about my choice in relations."

"It takes a lifetime for most people to realize they're better off alone." Cypress shrugged. "You're gonna stare at me until I explain, aren't you?"

"Probably."

"Marci always kept everyone at arm's length. Eric was better for her, but Michaels wouldn't take a hint, so it's like watching a telenovela but boring. Now Marci is gone, and where does that leave them? If you're destined to hurt no matter what, is there a point to any sort of love at all? What's the point if it's only going to get snatched away?"

Prowl took a drag of Sides' leftover suet, "Some take comfort in it. It is stabilizing, its means of repopulation considering the population has been fractioned. It is worth it, if only for appearance's sake and the comfort of others. I believe it's a necessary evil with more perks than disadvantages."

"Huh. Good to know."

Bumblebee's face swung somewhere between horror and discomfort. "Hey, Prowl, Cy: who hurt you guys?"

Bee got quiet grumbles in response that only aggravated him. "You don't want families?"

Prowl snorted, "Blood ties are overrated, and my coding is probably fragged by now; it ends with me."

"I never really thought much about it; I just wanted to draw. Wasn't aware having a family was an option till last orn. The future beyond what's for breakfast tomorrow terrifies me, so I ignore it."

On top of that, Cypress had done some unorthodox exploration of her frame. Yeah, it couldn't decide if it wanted to keep or overwrite all of its organic tendencies. It was enough to baffle Ratchet and get him to forbid going to any vehi-mode medics.

"I think my frame may be a crime against humans and Cybertronian."

Prowl flexed his servo and waved those freaky pseudo talons around, "I can't beat that one, but I've got enough mods to be a walking war crime."

"Ew. Does it hurt?"

"Occasionally."

Bee sighed, "Depressed mall emos…"

"I take offense to that, I'm a..." Cypress scrounged for a social group. "Huh. I got nothing."

"Pretty sure you're just pitiful." Prowl smiled.

"You hipster. Jazz buys you soft chews instead of hard candy."

Entirely out of whatever engex influence he'd been tormented into earlier, Bumblebee groaned. "Guys, stop fighting. What if–what if we could live normally?"

"It would drive you nuts. The same fragging thing over and over and over–" RoadRage slurred. "'M sorry, buddy. go ahead."

"What if the Autobots won, and we could be normal? Would you want families then?"

Prowl shrugged, "I suppose. I already have that here. You're all family enough."

Cypress narrowed her optics. "You're acting weird again, Bee."

"I'm fine."

Prowl made another one of his stuck-up noises.

"C'mere," Cypress sighed, "I've got something to tell you."

Bee scooted closer.

"Guess what grumpy robots get?"

"Ignored."

"Wrong," She leaned forward and accidentally kissed his olfactory. "Shoot."

The second time was a charm.

"The answer is rock rabies. Now you have to quarantine too."

"'M reporting you for malpractice." RoadRage slurred again.

Amid more jeers, Cypress patted him on the helm and added, :: I don't get crushes, but I care for you in a very non-platonic way. ::

Bumblebee whined.

She huffed, "And Vlad wasn't sad. He was great." She mopped at her smudged eyeliner, "When everyone looks at you like you don't belong—it's nice to feel like you mean something to one person. That's why I poured sugar in the social worker's gas tank two town's over. They never made it to Sawback."

Prowl made a grating noise and then devolved into a laugh. "A crime of passion. What else?"

"I…I may have gotten Eric to tinker with some records… Vlad had an awful life in foster care. Yeah. I mean, I didn't believe a word he said about alien rock people, but if he didn't snap out of it himself, nothing would break it. Vlad was different. He knew something in him was different, and he had to find out for himself. I'm just glad he was right. It was stupid dangerous to go along with him."

Prowl snorted, "Was he cute, at least?"

Cypress took too long to dig past years' worth of files to find their picture.

The image was grainy after being copied from a disposable camera. Both she and Vlad had their heads pressed together, facing the shot, far too close for friends. With new optics, she could see what was wrong. Cypress—Kyra at the time— still had suspiciously shiny bruises on her neck. Her former self's smile was too sharp. Vlad's body was all hard angles. Anyone could have blamed it on irregular meals, but his pupils were almost indistinguishable from the weird turquoise his eyes were. He had a healing bitemark on his neck that was finally losing its swelling and neon green color.

"Braggart," Prowl heckled.

"Hey, you asked. Jealous?"

"You let a Monolith feed off you. No."

Bee squeezed the bridge of his olfactory. "Cy, one big one of them can consume a whole team. You let a giant mosquito bite you."

"Look at you using Earth terms!" Cypress fidgeted with her servos. "Every culture has stories about monsters, things that don't belong, but not all of them are evil. They're like helpers in the shadows. I wanted to be like that."

"You really believe in cryptids and legends?" Bumblebee asked.

"I believe you should become what you want to see in the world." She sat up, "I spilled my secrets. Now it's your turn, Prick."

Prowl tented his digits, "I let Jazz and Lockdown steal a semi." Prowl started quietly.

"You stole?"

"Lies."

"No." Prowl countered, "I should have told the officer in the service station, I should have told the border patrol, we did things that would have had my predecessors rolling in their crypts, I could have left at any time, but I didn't. I felt more at home with two 'formers that wanted me dead a little less than my clan. Actually, it was my sire that put out the hit on me…."

"You never told me that part of the story before," Bee said.

"Wasn't the right time."

"Can I be a little insensitive?" Cypress interrupted.

"Never stopped you before."

"Did that Praxus attack at least kill most of them?"

"Yup."

Cypress let out a quiet hum, "Fitting. You should stay alive. Make them mad. You're here and doing better than they ever could."

"Every. Damn. Cycle."

Bumblebee wedged himself into Prowl's side.

Cypress stood and patted Prowl on the back, then lightly head-butted Bee. "I'm turning in."

"You could stay?"

"Yes, join us," Voltage said. RoadRage had her helm pillowed on the Preeker's side.

"I need to sleep in my quarters at some point. Get some rest."

Bumblebee latched onto her servo and pulled her down to whispering level. :: No one said you had to go tonight. ::

Cypress was discovering more about previously unknown parts in her anatomy tonight than in any study session. It was pleasing.

She curled into his side.

:: You're kinda possessive. ::

:: Is that bad? ::

:: Within reason it's kinda hot. ::

:: Good. ::

Now it was Prowl's turn to be dramatic. "Either stop flirting, or I'll read from this novel I found. It said it would be about intergalactic intrigue, but it's been nothing but a fiber-optic thin premise and badly placed interfacing. I'm starting to think it's not a thriller at all."

"That sounds like the opposite of a problem. Give it." RoadRage slurred.

"I'm not done."

Cypress let her optics slide shut and into low power. Not awake. Not fully in recharge or stasis, just floating between.

The buzz of her comm started rivaling whatever music was rattling the ship's walls.

:: Turn it down or play something catchy! ::

It wasn't anyone on the ship who answered.

:: Your number still works! :: Vlad cheered. :: What's going on? ::

:: After party, I'm upstairs vibing. ::

:: Oh. ::

:: How are you really, Vlad? ::

He didn't hesitate with an answer. :: I like being with Monolith. I feel like myself, at home. Changing hurt, though. ::

:: Don't get me started. I still have nightmares. ::

:: So is Marci one of you too?::

:: Nah. No, she died. ::

:: Oh God, I'm sorry. On duty? ::

:: You could say that. She knew more about aliens than she let on. I wouldn't be surprised if you guys are on file somewhere too. I can't tell you much about what's happening, but it's looking bad, dude. Don't go back to Earth without cloakers. For your own good, don't tell anyone you saw our crew. ::

:: About that…I don't think we should talk anymore. Hok is mad. ::

:: That's the big guy? ::

:: My teacher, yes. ::

:: Hate to say it, but he's right. ::

She let the silence drag out.

:: It's nice to talk to another Earthling. I worried about you stuck in Sawback. :: Vlad said with the soft tones only he could manage.

:: Pssh, it was fine. I thought you were going to get committed. Glad you made it out. ::

:: If you ever need help—::

:: I know. I have to warn you: we're natural enemies now. ::

:: Yeah, sorry about that one. On the bright side, I have built-in venom! ::

:: Thief. ::

:: Well, goodbye. Thanks. ::

:: Bye. ::

She didn't know how long she lay watching the universe before a loud thunk rattled the ship further.

Ironhide roared something incoherent, followed by Drift's "Why the frag does the drone have a knife!"

Something about the absurdity of being here, right now, and so alive she could burst made her optics brighten. Someone was laughing hard. That was well enough, but her chest was starting to hurt. Cypress made the connection it was her cackling like a mad femme.

The music below had changed to Paramore, of all things.

It felt good.

Her frame wasn't spitting errors. It had processed out or resolved all the toxins and deadeners, finally.

It felt like home. The Ark. The various drunk crew members strewn throughout the ship. The pets making a mess of the halls.

For right now, in this moment, this was home. And it was all she could ask for.


The closest artist I can think of for Jazz's singing voice is Labrinth.

I like to think the random Paramore song is "Where the Lines Overlap".

Yes, the title is a fusion of "All My Exs Live in Texas" (Strait) and "Crying in the Club" (Cabello). I listen to a little bit of everything, but I grew up with Country.

(Some) older country music will always have a place in my heart.

Speaking of sentimentality, go watch Earthspark!

I was highly skeptical at first, but it's great! It blends goofy with a serious underlying plot, we get to see the parents involved too, young Transformers, new lore concepts, Dot Malto, and Megs is a conflicted good guy. I'm sold.

For purely selfish reasons, I wish it came out when I was little. Parts of it hit close to home ಥ⌣ಥ