This is getting to be a habit... (Yet) Another Full Set
Title: Another Movie Night
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Starscream
Disclaimer: Don't own. If I did, this would probably be an episode on TV, not a story on a fanfiction site.
Prompt: 1.Take something you have written before - a fic, drabble, anything - and write a sequel. This need not be anything you have previously posted, but if it is, please provide a link.
LJ link
FF.Net link
“Hey,” Sideswipe said as he transformed. His brother transformed next to him, not bothering with a greeting.
“Hello, Autodolts,” Starscream greeted from where he was sitting in a corner of the drive in theater parking lot. “You know what's playing tonight?”
Sideswipe shook his helm as Sunstreaker settled into a comfortable position near the Seeker. “Nope. You?”
“No.”
“I do,” said the yellow Twin. “It's called Real Steel. About... boxing robots or something.”
“Hm. Sounds interesting,” Starscream said with a grin, then reached into his subspace. “My turn to bring energon. You can be my... what to the squishies call it... 'guinea pigs'. Mixed it up an orn ago, and Skywarp and TC won't try anything else I make.”
Sideswipe laughed. “Right. Wonder why.”
Starscream just sneered and held the glowing cubes out to the Twins. Sunstreaker took them both, then handed his Twin's over after Sideswipe had settled comfortably on the concrete.
There were few humans in the lot. There never were very many on the weeknights, which was why they chose them for these meets.
Their chance crash landing in the parking lot of one of these theaters close to a year ago had resulted in more than a temporary truce. A while after that time, Sunstreaker had asked his brother if he would be interested in a repeat, then had asked the Decepticon Aerial Commander the next time they had met in battle.
One more time had led to another, and another, and another. Soon they were meeting at least once a month, sometimes twice. They found it relaxing. Their personalities clicked in a way that made a thing like watching a movie, whether it be romance, comedy, or action (and they had watched those and everything in between since this had started), Starscream's wry sarcasm, Sunstreaker's rather subtle humor, and Sideswipe's constant joking made for a pleasant time for all three parties.
The movie started playing, bathing the lot in flickering blue-gray light. War had hardened the three mechs, but they still stared in stunned horror as a robot was gored and torn apart by a bull.
“What the frag is this?” Sunstreaker asked as the main character human used a lift to get the remains of the robot back into his truck.
Starscream snorted. “Tell me about it. The anatomy is all wrong! It wouldn't be able to stand with knee-joints like that, much less run around and jump.”
Sideswipe chuckled a little. “I think he was referring to the goriness. Humans aren't usually very good at getting our... um... stuff... right.”
“Insides, you mean?” Starscream asked with a smirk, and took a gulp of his energon. Laughing, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker did the same. Sunstreaker examined the cube critically for a moment, then took another drink. Sideswipe did the same, then turned to the Seeker.
“Where did you learn how to make energon? This is good!”
“Oh, I picked a few things up at the Academy...” the Aerial Commander said, smirk widening as he swirling his own energon.
The rest of the night was spent in much the same way. They would watch the movie for a time, then start off on a conversation, then return to the movie. As this movie was filled with a lot of robot-demolishing, they actually didn't pay much attention to it. They got enough of that on a day-to-day basis.
Once the credits rolled, they once again moved to part on a friendly note, waving goodbye and organizing their next meeting.
But before any could leave, Starscream hesitated, then spoke. “Uh... I’m... I’m kinda glad we crashed that day.”
Sideswipe grinned. “I know, right? Who knew you'd be so good at snarking.”
“Sides... he's Screamer. Of course he's good at snarking.”
Sideswipe rolled his optics at his brother. “You know what I mean! This is almost as much fun as messing with Ratchet. And there are no wrenches!”
Starscream laughed; a genuine, happy laugh, not the evil, maniac cackle he so often sported.
Who knew that it would be human movies that would unite some of the deadliest of foes?
Title: So Close
Rating: PG-13
Continuity: G1?
Characters: Prowl, Jazz
Disclaimer: Don't own
Prompt: 2.“So close ….”
“Jazz.”
“Yes, Prowl?” the saboteur asked with an innocent look.
The tactician said nothing, simply looking down at him, gold optics sparkling fiercely from under the brilliant red chevron. Jazz wilted.
“I'll get rid of it.”
“See that you do. It is unbecoming of the Autobot Third in Command to be seen in such... apparel.”
Glancing down at his frame, embarrassed, Jazz had to agree. Sort of. He was posed in a rather seductive sprawl over their shared berth with a human “maid” costume on. He had expected Prowl to... well, Prowl did surprise him on a surprisingly regular basis. Perhaps this hadn't been the best way to get his attention this night.
A tiny portion of his processor argued that he had gotten Prowl's attention - just not in the way he wanted it.
“Slag it, so close...” he muttered under his ex-vents, and the tactician raised an optic ridge.
“Perhaps,” he murmured, leaning down and splaying a hand over Jazz's chassis plates, “a bit closer than you believed. Shall I help you remove those items, Jazz?”
“Frag yeah.”
And then again, perhaps it had garnered the exact kind of attention he wanted...
Title: Sticky Situation
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Bumblebee, Prowl, Jazz, the Twins (offscreen)
Disclaimer: Stiiiiilll dooooonnn'tt oooooowwwwnnnnn....
Prompt: 3.Scenario: Characters stuck somewhere - maybe trapped in a sticky substance or wedged into a narrow space. (Or whatever!)
Bumblebee would never live it down. Ever. He just knew it. The mechs already playfully called him “Bug,” and to be honest, he really didn't mind. His name was Bumblebee, and his alt mode was a Volkswagen Beetle, but...
This was just too much.
He tried once again to pull his arms away from the wall, but the sticky substance it was coated with held them tight.
Bumblebee, the Bug, stuck in the Autobot version of flypaper.
Ugh. He would never live it down. Ever. Not in his entire life.
But it'd be better to get out of here as soon as possible, so he didn't have to stay there, hanging against the wall, for all the Arc to see. He thought for a moment, then opened his comm.
::Prowl? Bumblebee here.::
::Yes, Bumblebee? How may I be of service?::
::I've kinda... run into some trouble. Of the Twin variety. I need some help...::
::And you know I can keep my vocalizer muted. Very well. Where are you?::
::D-Deck, hallway C-45.::
::Very well. I will be there in a moment.::
Sure enough, a moment later, Prowl rounded the corner. He froze for a moment, blinking rapidly as though afraid his optics were malfunctioning. “Bumblebee?”
“Hi, Prowl,” the minibot said weakly, twitching his fingers in a wave. “Think you can get me down?”
The tactician vented heavily and stepped forward, examining the sticky substance. “Perhaps. This looks like mission-grade adhesive. Jazz should have the dissolution agent. Is it okay with you if I call him?”
The minibot's optics dimmed for a moment, but he gave his affirmative. Jazz was his superior and boss. It would be horribly embarrassing to have to admit the Twins had caught him off guard, but Jazz was another mech he could trust to keep his vocalizer muted.
A moment later, the black and white saboteur rounded the corner. He, like Prowl, paused and blinked, though he did recover quickly.
“Heh. When Prowler said ya'd gotten yerself inta a sticky situation, Ah didn' think he meant literally.”
Bumblebee gave a weak smile at that. “Yeah... The Twins caught me when I was talking to Cliffjumper. Um. Do you think you can get me down, Jazz?”
The saboteur took a moment to examine the sticky coating, then nodded. “Sure thing. Ah'll have ya down in a klik,” he said, pulling an unmarked canister out of his subspace. Prowl looked at him warily for a moment.
“You carry the dissolution agent on you all the time?”
Jazz and Bumblebee exchanged a glance, and they both giggled a little. Jazz answered his bondmate quickly, though. “Yeah. Firs' rule o' SpecOps, Prowler. Ya've always gotta be prepared. 'Specially fer those... sticky situations.”
The two Special Operations agents fell into giggles again, and Prowl smiled a little bit.
They soon had Bumblebee off the wall, none the wiser. Except for the Twins, of course, who earned a week of double duty shifts and a stern reprimanding involving the haphazards of leaving fellow Autobots in sticky situations.
Title: Slap-Slap-Kiss
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1 ish
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sideswipe, Bluestreak
Disclaimer: Don't own. Never have, probably never will.
Prompt: 4.Slap in the face.
It wasn't often that Prowl and Jazz's arguments got so heated that everyone in the room felt that they should leave. It did happen, though, and this was one of those times.
It had started small. A little complaint/question; Prowl asking Jazz to turn his audio-shattering music down. From there, it had just degraded into a full out shouting match. No one really knew how, or what exactly had prompted the downward spiral. To tell the truth, no one really cared. They just knew that when Optimus Prime's right and left hands got into fights like this, it was best to evacuate the blast zone.
So that's what they did. They casually filed out, one at a time, desperate not to attract the black and whites' attention.
The argument went on for a long while, the two shouting over each other. The loud screams went on uninterrupted for almost half an hour (“A new record!” Sideswipe had cheered quietly from where he, his brother, and Bluestreak were peeking around the doorframe).
Then there was a loud Clang!, and everything was quiet.
Prowl stared at Jazz, fingers barely brushing the dent on the gray cheek plating. Then he pulled back and landed a hard return slap across the saboteur's face.
They stared at each other for a long moment, then lunged forward. Their lips met in passionate embrace, and stayed there. (Sideswipe, from behind the door, was making gagging motions while Bluestreak giggled.)
The black and whites separated, fans whirring loudly. “Primus, Ah, love ya,” Jazz whispered.
“And I, you,” Prowl returned.
They kissed again, slaps and arguments forgotten.
Title: It's a Small World
Rating: G
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 5.“I can’t get this darned thing out of my memory.…”
Optimus Prime usually avoided the Med Bay at all costs. It wasn't that he didn't like being repaired, exactly, or that he didn't like Ratchet. He just didn't like Med Bays.
So when he ambled in one day, looking rather dazed and confused, Ratchet was extremely puzzled.
“Ratchet?”
“What the slag's wrong with you, Prime? You look...”
“I can not get this thing out of my memory... I need you to remove it for me.”
“... Why? What happened?”
“Annabelle Lennox made me ride the It's a Small World ride with her at Disney. In my holoform, do not worry. The ride broke down for about three hours.”
Ratchet just stared. Prime vented.
“Have you ever heard the It's a Small World song, Ratchet?”
“... Can't say I have.”
“Well, it goes like this...”
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Ratchet ambled dazedly into the Rec Room and looked about blearily for a moment. Spotting his targets, he stumbled forward.
“Sideswipe? Sunstreaker? I need some high-grade. Some of your strongest stuff.”
“Why?”
Ratchet shuddered, armor plating rattling loudly. “Optimus got stuck on the It's a Small World ride at Disney with Annabelle, and it broke down. He... enlightened me as to what the song is... I can't get the darned thing out of my memory...”
The Twins exchanged a glance. “Ten cubes of my strongest coming up, Ratch. Don't you worry,” Sideswipe hurriedly assured, and ran off to get just that.
Title: Art
Rating: G
Continuity: G1 ish?
Characters: Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe
Disclaimer: Don't own
Prompt: 6.Scenario: A character represents Cybertron in some capacity, maybe as an ambassador, or in a sporting event or competition.
It was Ratchet who saw the advertisement first. He often read the human online newspaper, though, had he told anyone other than Wheeljack, they most likely wouldn't have believed him.
But he did. And when he saw the very obviously Cybertronian cityscape spread across the front page with the title "Art Show Comes to Town: Anonymous Benefactor Donates Multiple Pieces," he stormed ingot he Rec Room, datapad in hand. He was immediately the center of attention.
"What's this?" he snarled as he slapped the pad down in front of Sunstreaker. Sideswipe snickered as the yellow Twin shot Ratchet a dry look.
"It looks like Praxus to me. What do you think, Sides?"
"Yup. Looks like Praxus. See, you can see the Helix Gardens in the corner over there," he said, gesturing vaguely to the edge of the cityscape.
Ratchet growled lowly. "Why is it on the front page of a human newspaper?"
Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge and took his time answering, taking a long drink of his energon. After letting the medic stew for a moment, he smiled. "Because I donated it to the Art Show. Sides convinced me, with a little help from Prowl. He said something about human-Autobot relations, but to tell you the truth, I kinda tuned him out."
"Yet it's anonymous."
Sunstreaker shrugged. "If you know anything at all about us, it's pretty obviously Cybertron. And anyways, it should say something about it being from one of us. Keep reading."
Ratchet growled as he picked up the pad and fell into the open seat next to Sideswipe. "Fine. You're still an aft."
The yellow frontliner shrugged, a small smile twitching at his lips. "Whatever."
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Starscream
Disclaimer: Don't own. If I did, this would probably be an episode on TV, not a story on a fanfiction site.
Prompt: 1.Take something you have written before - a fic, drabble, anything - and write a sequel. This need not be anything you have previously posted, but if it is, please provide a link.
LJ link
FF.Net link
“Hey,” Sideswipe said as he transformed. His brother transformed next to him, not bothering with a greeting.
“Hello, Autodolts,” Starscream greeted from where he was sitting in a corner of the drive in theater parking lot. “You know what's playing tonight?”
Sideswipe shook his helm as Sunstreaker settled into a comfortable position near the Seeker. “Nope. You?”
“No.”
“I do,” said the yellow Twin. “It's called Real Steel. About... boxing robots or something.”
“Hm. Sounds interesting,” Starscream said with a grin, then reached into his subspace. “My turn to bring energon. You can be my... what to the squishies call it... 'guinea pigs'. Mixed it up an orn ago, and Skywarp and TC won't try anything else I make.”
Sideswipe laughed. “Right. Wonder why.”
Starscream just sneered and held the glowing cubes out to the Twins. Sunstreaker took them both, then handed his Twin's over after Sideswipe had settled comfortably on the concrete.
There were few humans in the lot. There never were very many on the weeknights, which was why they chose them for these meets.
Their chance crash landing in the parking lot of one of these theaters close to a year ago had resulted in more than a temporary truce. A while after that time, Sunstreaker had asked his brother if he would be interested in a repeat, then had asked the Decepticon Aerial Commander the next time they had met in battle.
One more time had led to another, and another, and another. Soon they were meeting at least once a month, sometimes twice. They found it relaxing. Their personalities clicked in a way that made a thing like watching a movie, whether it be romance, comedy, or action (and they had watched those and everything in between since this had started), Starscream's wry sarcasm, Sunstreaker's rather subtle humor, and Sideswipe's constant joking made for a pleasant time for all three parties.
The movie started playing, bathing the lot in flickering blue-gray light. War had hardened the three mechs, but they still stared in stunned horror as a robot was gored and torn apart by a bull.
“What the frag is this?” Sunstreaker asked as the main character human used a lift to get the remains of the robot back into his truck.
Starscream snorted. “Tell me about it. The anatomy is all wrong! It wouldn't be able to stand with knee-joints like that, much less run around and jump.”
Sideswipe chuckled a little. “I think he was referring to the goriness. Humans aren't usually very good at getting our... um... stuff... right.”
“Insides, you mean?” Starscream asked with a smirk, and took a gulp of his energon. Laughing, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker did the same. Sunstreaker examined the cube critically for a moment, then took another drink. Sideswipe did the same, then turned to the Seeker.
“Where did you learn how to make energon? This is good!”
“Oh, I picked a few things up at the Academy...” the Aerial Commander said, smirk widening as he swirling his own energon.
The rest of the night was spent in much the same way. They would watch the movie for a time, then start off on a conversation, then return to the movie. As this movie was filled with a lot of robot-demolishing, they actually didn't pay much attention to it. They got enough of that on a day-to-day basis.
Once the credits rolled, they once again moved to part on a friendly note, waving goodbye and organizing their next meeting.
But before any could leave, Starscream hesitated, then spoke. “Uh... I’m... I’m kinda glad we crashed that day.”
Sideswipe grinned. “I know, right? Who knew you'd be so good at snarking.”
“Sides... he's Screamer. Of course he's good at snarking.”
Sideswipe rolled his optics at his brother. “You know what I mean! This is almost as much fun as messing with Ratchet. And there are no wrenches!”
Starscream laughed; a genuine, happy laugh, not the evil, maniac cackle he so often sported.
Who knew that it would be human movies that would unite some of the deadliest of foes?
Title: So Close
Rating: PG-13
Continuity: G1?
Characters: Prowl, Jazz
Disclaimer: Don't own
Prompt: 2.“So close ….”
“Jazz.”
“Yes, Prowl?” the saboteur asked with an innocent look.
The tactician said nothing, simply looking down at him, gold optics sparkling fiercely from under the brilliant red chevron. Jazz wilted.
“I'll get rid of it.”
“See that you do. It is unbecoming of the Autobot Third in Command to be seen in such... apparel.”
Glancing down at his frame, embarrassed, Jazz had to agree. Sort of. He was posed in a rather seductive sprawl over their shared berth with a human “maid” costume on. He had expected Prowl to... well, Prowl did surprise him on a surprisingly regular basis. Perhaps this hadn't been the best way to get his attention this night.
A tiny portion of his processor argued that he had gotten Prowl's attention - just not in the way he wanted it.
“Slag it, so close...” he muttered under his ex-vents, and the tactician raised an optic ridge.
“Perhaps,” he murmured, leaning down and splaying a hand over Jazz's chassis plates, “a bit closer than you believed. Shall I help you remove those items, Jazz?”
“Frag yeah.”
And then again, perhaps it had garnered the exact kind of attention he wanted...
Title: Sticky Situation
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Bumblebee, Prowl, Jazz, the Twins (offscreen)
Disclaimer: Stiiiiilll dooooonnn'tt oooooowwwwnnnnn....
Prompt: 3.Scenario: Characters stuck somewhere - maybe trapped in a sticky substance or wedged into a narrow space. (Or whatever!)
Bumblebee would never live it down. Ever. He just knew it. The mechs already playfully called him “Bug,” and to be honest, he really didn't mind. His name was Bumblebee, and his alt mode was a Volkswagen Beetle, but...
This was just too much.
He tried once again to pull his arms away from the wall, but the sticky substance it was coated with held them tight.
Bumblebee, the Bug, stuck in the Autobot version of flypaper.
Ugh. He would never live it down. Ever. Not in his entire life.
But it'd be better to get out of here as soon as possible, so he didn't have to stay there, hanging against the wall, for all the Arc to see. He thought for a moment, then opened his comm.
::Prowl? Bumblebee here.::
::Yes, Bumblebee? How may I be of service?::
::I've kinda... run into some trouble. Of the Twin variety. I need some help...::
::And you know I can keep my vocalizer muted. Very well. Where are you?::
::D-Deck, hallway C-45.::
::Very well. I will be there in a moment.::
Sure enough, a moment later, Prowl rounded the corner. He froze for a moment, blinking rapidly as though afraid his optics were malfunctioning. “Bumblebee?”
“Hi, Prowl,” the minibot said weakly, twitching his fingers in a wave. “Think you can get me down?”
The tactician vented heavily and stepped forward, examining the sticky substance. “Perhaps. This looks like mission-grade adhesive. Jazz should have the dissolution agent. Is it okay with you if I call him?”
The minibot's optics dimmed for a moment, but he gave his affirmative. Jazz was his superior and boss. It would be horribly embarrassing to have to admit the Twins had caught him off guard, but Jazz was another mech he could trust to keep his vocalizer muted.
A moment later, the black and white saboteur rounded the corner. He, like Prowl, paused and blinked, though he did recover quickly.
“Heh. When Prowler said ya'd gotten yerself inta a sticky situation, Ah didn' think he meant literally.”
Bumblebee gave a weak smile at that. “Yeah... The Twins caught me when I was talking to Cliffjumper. Um. Do you think you can get me down, Jazz?”
The saboteur took a moment to examine the sticky coating, then nodded. “Sure thing. Ah'll have ya down in a klik,” he said, pulling an unmarked canister out of his subspace. Prowl looked at him warily for a moment.
“You carry the dissolution agent on you all the time?”
Jazz and Bumblebee exchanged a glance, and they both giggled a little. Jazz answered his bondmate quickly, though. “Yeah. Firs' rule o' SpecOps, Prowler. Ya've always gotta be prepared. 'Specially fer those... sticky situations.”
The two Special Operations agents fell into giggles again, and Prowl smiled a little bit.
They soon had Bumblebee off the wall, none the wiser. Except for the Twins, of course, who earned a week of double duty shifts and a stern reprimanding involving the haphazards of leaving fellow Autobots in sticky situations.
Title: Slap-Slap-Kiss
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1 ish
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sideswipe, Bluestreak
Disclaimer: Don't own. Never have, probably never will.
Prompt: 4.Slap in the face.
It wasn't often that Prowl and Jazz's arguments got so heated that everyone in the room felt that they should leave. It did happen, though, and this was one of those times.
It had started small. A little complaint/question; Prowl asking Jazz to turn his audio-shattering music down. From there, it had just degraded into a full out shouting match. No one really knew how, or what exactly had prompted the downward spiral. To tell the truth, no one really cared. They just knew that when Optimus Prime's right and left hands got into fights like this, it was best to evacuate the blast zone.
So that's what they did. They casually filed out, one at a time, desperate not to attract the black and whites' attention.
The argument went on for a long while, the two shouting over each other. The loud screams went on uninterrupted for almost half an hour (“A new record!” Sideswipe had cheered quietly from where he, his brother, and Bluestreak were peeking around the doorframe).
Then there was a loud Clang!, and everything was quiet.
Prowl stared at Jazz, fingers barely brushing the dent on the gray cheek plating. Then he pulled back and landed a hard return slap across the saboteur's face.
They stared at each other for a long moment, then lunged forward. Their lips met in passionate embrace, and stayed there. (Sideswipe, from behind the door, was making gagging motions while Bluestreak giggled.)
The black and whites separated, fans whirring loudly. “Primus, Ah, love ya,” Jazz whispered.
“And I, you,” Prowl returned.
They kissed again, slaps and arguments forgotten.
Title: It's a Small World
Rating: G
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Prompt: 5.“I can’t get this darned thing out of my memory.…”
Optimus Prime usually avoided the Med Bay at all costs. It wasn't that he didn't like being repaired, exactly, or that he didn't like Ratchet. He just didn't like Med Bays.
So when he ambled in one day, looking rather dazed and confused, Ratchet was extremely puzzled.
“Ratchet?”
“What the slag's wrong with you, Prime? You look...”
“I can not get this thing out of my memory... I need you to remove it for me.”
“... Why? What happened?”
“Annabelle Lennox made me ride the It's a Small World ride with her at Disney. In my holoform, do not worry. The ride broke down for about three hours.”
Ratchet just stared. Prime vented.
“Have you ever heard the It's a Small World song, Ratchet?”
“... Can't say I have.”
“Well, it goes like this...”
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
Ratchet ambled dazedly into the Rec Room and looked about blearily for a moment. Spotting his targets, he stumbled forward.
“Sideswipe? Sunstreaker? I need some high-grade. Some of your strongest stuff.”
“Why?”
Ratchet shuddered, armor plating rattling loudly. “Optimus got stuck on the It's a Small World ride at Disney with Annabelle, and it broke down. He... enlightened me as to what the song is... I can't get the darned thing out of my memory...”
The Twins exchanged a glance. “Ten cubes of my strongest coming up, Ratch. Don't you worry,” Sideswipe hurriedly assured, and ran off to get just that.
Title: Art
Rating: G
Continuity: G1 ish?
Characters: Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe
Disclaimer: Don't own
Prompt: 6.Scenario: A character represents Cybertron in some capacity, maybe as an ambassador, or in a sporting event or competition.
It was Ratchet who saw the advertisement first. He often read the human online newspaper, though, had he told anyone other than Wheeljack, they most likely wouldn't have believed him.
But he did. And when he saw the very obviously Cybertronian cityscape spread across the front page with the title "Art Show Comes to Town: Anonymous Benefactor Donates Multiple Pieces," he stormed ingot he Rec Room, datapad in hand. He was immediately the center of attention.
"What's this?" he snarled as he slapped the pad down in front of Sunstreaker. Sideswipe snickered as the yellow Twin shot Ratchet a dry look.
"It looks like Praxus to me. What do you think, Sides?"
"Yup. Looks like Praxus. See, you can see the Helix Gardens in the corner over there," he said, gesturing vaguely to the edge of the cityscape.
Ratchet growled lowly. "Why is it on the front page of a human newspaper?"
Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge and took his time answering, taking a long drink of his energon. After letting the medic stew for a moment, he smiled. "Because I donated it to the Art Show. Sides convinced me, with a little help from Prowl. He said something about human-Autobot relations, but to tell you the truth, I kinda tuned him out."
"Yet it's anonymous."
Sunstreaker shrugged. "If you know anything at all about us, it's pretty obviously Cybertron. And anyways, it should say something about it being from one of us. Keep reading."
Ratchet growled as he picked up the pad and fell into the open seat next to Sideswipe. "Fine. You're still an aft."
The yellow frontliner shrugged, a small smile twitching at his lips. "Whatever."