Daydreaming Sunstreaker
Heh, well at least this one was easy to do. Written for newsy891
Rated G and non-slash, and features an appearance by Red Alert.
Daydreaming Sunstreaker
Sunstreaker let out a content sigh as his tired body eased into the gentle, soothing spray of the water coming from the jets positioned on both sides of the chamber. Not too cold, not too hot, and at medium pressure, it was just the way he liked it. For all their misgivings, at least the humans had the right idea when they thought up the carwash.
At the moment there was nothing more divine than the feeling of those soft, soapy buffers running along his sides, hood and roof, spreading a nice, cleansing detergent over his chassis. He could almost smell the minty freshness in it as all the dirt and mud he’d accumulated over the past few weeks dissolved in the water and flowed away from him.
He twitched a little as a buffer ran over a ticklish spot, and his engine purred in satisfaction as he felt some of the tension ease out of his systems. It was tempting to just offline and let the machines do their work, but he wanted to stay awake and feel every wonderful sensation because Primus knew when he’d get another chance like this again.
The spray-jets rinsed him off and the now-detergent-free buffers ran over him once more, the light fibres working out residual dirt from any niches and crevices in his armor. Sunstreaker could just imagine how pristine his paint looked at the moment and made a mental note to introduce his brother to the place. Primus knew Sideswipe could use a bath now and then.
By this time, the conveyor belt was moving him out of the wash chamber and into another cubicle with huge vents that blew strong gusts of warm air all over him to dry him up. Oh this was the life. He wondered if there was any way he could talk Prime and Prowl into having Wheeljack install an automated carwash like this back in the Ark, though having a monopoly on it would be tricky. It was worth a shot anyway.
Once he was all dry, he was moved off into another room where a group of humans stood waiting with buff-cloths and bottles of his favorite wax. Sunstreaker smiled to himself as they got to work massaging the protective wax into his body, trying to imagine how his golden-yellow paint was going to gleam once they were done. He was going to be the envy of everyone back home.
He could just hear them all going “Sunstreaker, you look lovely”, “That’s a great look on you, Sunny” or “You’re looking wonderful, Sunstreaker.”
“Sunstreaker.”
Yeah, his name was the very embodiment of beauty and perfection.
“Sunstreaker.”
The very name held awe, didn’t it?
“Sunstreaker.”
Yes, that was his name. No need to wear it out.
“Sunstreaker!”
The sudden closeness of the voice startled him and he snapped out of his reverie to find a rather irritated Red Alert standing beside him, a patented frown on his face-plates. Wait, why was the security director here?
“What?” he asked, scowling partly from having been interrupted from his nice daydream.
“Prowl has been calling your channel for the last five minutes. Care to answer it some time?”
Sunstreaker sat up straighter and checked his console, and sure enough the logs indicated Prowl had been comm-ing the channel for a while now. Oh he was in for slag, and he could probably kiss his dreams of a carwash goodbye. Unless…
“Hey Red, when was the last time Prowl went to a carwash?”
~END.