Switch - Ch. 9

Warning: The angsty muse took over in this chapter and she was quite unstoppable…

---

    The first thing that Prowl registered as he regained consciousness was the sound of footsteps. Confused, he willed his optics online so he could check his surroundings, even if it proved an almost impossible task; his cranial unit was practically killing him. A groan slipped out of his lip components before he could help it.  

    "Primus…"

    In the next moment, a hand rested on his shoulder and Ratchet's face came into view.

    "Well, well. You finally decided to join the functioning again," the medic said, holding up a small scanning device. "Name?"

    Prowl sighed. He understood what Ratchet was trying to determine with that kind of routine check-up. "Autobot Prowl. Tactician. Hailing from Praxus," he said.

    Ratchet hummed his acknowledgement and held up two fingers. "How many?"

    Prowl answered.

    "Push my hands," Ratchet instructed, gripping Prowl's arms.

    Prowl did just that, and he did the same thing when Ratchet gripped his legs.

    Ratchet nodded, seeming satisfied. "Good. Sit up, but not too abruptly."

    Prowl complied, following the medic's advice. "My computer crashed, didn't it?" he asked.

    "Yup," Ratchet said, writing in one of his datapads.

    The tactician sighed. "How long was I out of it?"

    "Let's just say you've established a new record," Ratchet deadpanned, something that made the tactician wince. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

    "Fine, I suppose," Prowl said truthfully, "Although the last thing I remember is going on a rescue mission…" His door panels practically stood behind his back as his memories finally caught up with him, and he regarded the medic in a worried manner. "Was the mission successful? Is Bluestreak safe?"

    "Yeah, don't worry," Ratchet said. "And finally out of that ridiculous outfit, too," he muttered under his breath.

    "Come again?" Prowl asked, confused. What outfit?

    "Nothing, nothing," Ratchet said quickly, still writing in his datapad. "Well, all your functions seem to be operating smoothly. Nevertheless, I think it's in your best interest that you stayed out of your office for the next 24 hours." He signed the datapad in one fluid motion and he handed it to Prowl with quite the professional air. "Show this to Prime once you're out of here."

    Prowl frowned. "What about the reports from the mission?"

    "Prime has already taken care of that," Ratchet answered. "And Ironhide has taken care of the other matter."

    Now Prowl was downright baffled. "What other matter?"

---

    "Hey, Bro, catch," Sideswipe said, handing the yellow Lamborghini a large box.

    Sunstreaker did with a heavy sigh. "Where does this go?" he asked.

    "I don't know," the red Laborghini replied with an unconcerned shrug. "Just put it on the other side of the room, I guess."

    "I don't think tidying up works that way, Sideswipe," Sunstreaker noted, shaking his head. Indeed, Ironhide had instructed them to clean up the mess inside the store-room of the Ark, but Sunstreaker felt that they'd done nothing more than move the boxes about aimlessly.

    "Hey, it's not like Ironhide's around to correct us," Sideswipe said. "And I doubt he's gonna try and say anything," he added, nodding discreetly in Fireflight's direction. The young Aerialbot was standing a little further away, supposedly making sure that the Twins did their job. So far, however, he merely made sure he didn't draw attention to himself. Both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had made quite the impression on the youngest additions to the Autobot group, and Fireflight was particularly nervous around them.

    "We're still stuck in here," Sunstreaker grumbled.

    "Yeah… Whose fault was that, I wonder?" Sideswipe said, pretending to ponder on the matter for a few seconds. "Oh, right! Yours!"

    "Nobody asked you to follow," the yellow Lamborghini said with a growl.

    "So what? Was I supposed to leave you on your own? You're still my brother. Unfortunately."

    "Don't push it!" Sunstreaker snapped.

    "Tut, tut," the red Lamborghini said, waving a finger in warning. "No excitement, you'll have fluid gushing from your nose all over again. Or does that only happen when you see cute femmes dressed in Princess Leia outfits?"

    Sunstreaker huffed. "You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

    "Nope," Sideswipe replied sweetly. "By the way, I didn't have you for the knight¬-in-shining-armour type. Talk about dashing to your lady-love's rescue or what?"

    Sunstreaker didn't share the humour. "Just forget it, all right? I've already told you, I'm not gonna do anything, and I'm certainly not gonna let her do anything either!" he said. "Bluestreak is--"

     "-- talking to Fireflight," Sideswipe said, looking over his brother's shoulder.

    "That's right, talking to… What?" Sunstreaker turned around in disbelief, only to see that Sideswipe was right. Bluestreak was indeed standing on the doorway, a pleading look on her features, while Fireflight was blushing so hard it was almost embarrassing. Deciding to check on matters himself, Sunstreaker leant closely in the hopes of overhearing their conversation. At this distance, he only managed to catch some words here and there.

    "But Ironhide said…"

    "Five minutes… I promise…"

    "… I don't know…"

    But then, Bluestreak held Fireflight's hand in both hers and looked at him with what Spike always described as a 'puppy look', and Sunstreaker knew that the Aerialbot was officially defeated. If that look worked like a charm when Bluestreak was a mech, it did wonders now that she was a femme.

    Fireflight wavered, looked at the corridor to make sure that Ironhide wasn't anywhere within hearing range, and finally nodded.

    She beamed at once, something that made Fireflight smile quite happily. Sunstreaker clenched his jaw, wanting nothing more now than stomp up there and punch that smile off his face. She had come to see him and Sideswipe. Didn't the idiot realise that?

    Uh oh… Seeing Bluestreak heading to his direction, Sunstreaker decided he had to act quickly - the last thing he wanted was for her to think that she was spied on. He prodded Sideswipe to give him another box so that they could at least pretend that they were working and, willing himself to be as casual as possible, he avoided looking behind him until she finally spoke.

    "Hey, guys."

    Sunstreaker and Sideswipe looked up.

    "Oh, hey, Bluestreak! Funny, didn't see you there. Have you been here long?" the red Lamborghini asked in an innocent tone.

    Sunstreaker shot a warning look in his brother's direction. The plan was to act nonchalant, not like idiots!

    Thankfully, Bluestreak didn't seem to think anything was off. "No, I just came in. I figured I should check up on you and let you know that Prowl is okay."

    "Oh." Sunstreaker picked up another box. "Is that all?"

    "Actually… I was hoping I could have a word with you," Bluestreak said, looking at the yellow Lamborghini.

    "About?" Sunstreaker asked.

    She wrung her hands in a nervous manner and looked at Sideswipe. Sideswipe frowned and looked at Sunstreaker, who simply waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

    "It's fine," he said, reassuring Bluestreak. "You can trust Sideswipe not to talk."

    That seemed to settle things for the femme, even though it was clear it was still hard for her. In the end she breathed in, bracing herself for what she was about to say, and decided to just go for it.

    "Thank you."

    To say Sunstreaker was confused would have been an understatement. "For what?"

    "For coming for me," she explained. "I, uh… appreciate it."

    Blast it… Sunstreaker thought wryly. A grateful femme was the last thing he wanted right now. He snorted deliberately and turned around, supposedly getting back to his work.

    "I was just following orders. Think nothing of it."

    "I believe you're here because you didn't follow orders."

    The yellow Lamborghini stopped in his tracks, cursing inwardly. Even so, he said nothing, hoping that that would convince Bluestreak to leave the matter be.

    No such luck.

    "After the first time we… talked…" she said slowly, almost with difficulty, "I had come to believe that you didn't care about me. That I was some freak of nature that disgusted you."

    The words cut through Sunstreaker like an energon blade, making his spark actually ache. All this time, he'd avoided Bluestreak in the belief that he was doing a favour to the femme, no, to both of them. Instead, he now realised that he had ended up hurting his friend a lot more than he had ever meant to. And though Sunstreaker wasn't a mech that apologised (he was too proud for that sort of thing), the guilt and regret that grabbed hold of him in that moment forced him to face Bluestreak, hoping to somehow make amends.

    "Bluestreak, I…"

    "Hey, it's okay," Bluestreak cut in, a smile on her lip components. "I get it now."

    "You do?" Sunstreaker asked, astonished. How did she figure it out?

    "Yeah," she said. "I mean… it would be weird if we hanged around as if nothing had changed between us. I am a femme, after all. What with your history with them, I'd just keep thinking and worrying whether you were gonna make a pass at me." She chuckled. "Good thing Perceptor and Jazz will be back soon. Then we'll have one less thing to worry about. No way you're gonna flirt with a mech, right?"

    "Uh… right," Sunstreaker managed to voice, despite the unnatural lump that had suddenly formed in his vocalizer.

    A sigh of relief left Bluestreak's lips and she made a motion as if ridding some sweat off her helm. "Phew, I'm glad that's settled. Seriously, I didn't want my last words to you to be…" she cast another uncomfortable glance in Sideswipe's direction for a moment, "You know…"

    "Yeah, I know," Sunstreaker said, but he didn't sound as cheerful as he would have liked. "And Sideswipe does, too, in case you were wondering."

    "Oh!" Bluestreak laughed a bit, scratching her helm in embarrassment. "Sorry, Sideswipe."

    "It's fine…" the red Lamborghini said quietly.

    The silver femme nodded. But then, as the silence started growing heavy in the air, she found her confidence wavering.

    "Well, um… I'm gonna go now. I have to check on Prowl and make sure that he doesn't attempt to do any work. That was one big computer crash he had and, frankly, I don't want it to happen again. Poor Prowl feels really lousy every time he comes back to his senses and I end up getting all worried and… okay, bye!"

    With that, the gunner turned on her heel and practically flew out of the room, leaving the Twins and a very perplexed Fireflight behind.

    "What did you do to her?" the Aerialbot asked, optics wide.

    "None of your business," Sunstreaker snapped, and he let the box he had been holding this whole time drop on the pile next to him. "Sideswipe, give me another."

    Sideswipe did, a sober expression on his features. "I'm sorry, Bro," he said sincerely.

    Sunstreaker shrugged. "Heh, whatever for? I got what I wanted. Bluestreak didn't fall for me. Mission accomplished."

    "Yeah, I guess so." Sideswipe pursed his lips momentarily. "Bro--"

    "We have work to do," Sunstreaker declared stolidly. "Now are you gonna help me or am I gonna have to do everything on my own?"

    That set things as final, and Sideswipe didn't say anything else. They simply carried on working, the red Lamborghini lost in thought and the yellow wondering if he had just made the biggest mistake in his life. That is, until…

    '"No way you're gonna flirt with a mech… right?"'

    "What?" Sunstreaker asked, looking at his brother dubiously.

    "That's what Bluestreak said," Sideswipe said.

    Sunstreaker sighed. "So? You figured you should rub it in some more?"

    "No," Sideswipe said, and Sunstreaker noted that his brother sounded very pleased for some reason. "The wording was… interesting, that's all."

    "Just let it go, Sideswipe," Sunstreaker said tiredly and he picked up another box. He didn't want to think anymore. As far as he was concerned, he had his chance and that was it. End of story.

---

   Bluestreak stopped running only when she had finally exited the Ark and found herself within the comforting darkness of the night. Starlight filled the sky-dome above her head, a tranquil sight that contradicted severely with the turmoil that was raging in her spark. After all this time, she had got an answer to the question that kept nagging her even as far back as her mech days. That was good, she should have been happy. She could now carry on without wondering about the what ifs, and she had saved herself from much embarrassment and doubt.

    Then why did it hurt so much? She had prepared herself for any kind of outcome, even tried to somehow detach herself from the predicament she was in so she could view it objectively and logically. But, unfortunately, logic was never Bluestreak's strongest point, neither as a mech nor as a femme. She was always ruled by emotions and intuition, acting on them no matter how many times she told herself she shouldn't. Just like now, while fluid threatened to flow down her face-plate.

    Blast it… She angrily wiped her tears with the back of her hand and she sat on a rock nearby, hoping to ease the rapid pulsing within her laser core.

    "Bluestreak?"

    She sighed; she recognised that voice only too well. "Hey, Prowl," she said, but she didn't face her mentor. "Did you need something?"

    It was of no use, though. She could never hide from him.

    "I saw you running off," she heard him say. And then, next thing she knew, his arm was placed over her broad shoulders. "What's the matter?"

    "Nothing, I'm just…" she started, but she quickly realised that she was openly crying. "I'm just sick and tired of everything. This face, this voice… this whole Primus-damn situation!" She was aware that, as her frustration grew, so did the volume of her voice, but she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. "Why did that medic have to fix me?! Why didn't she just leave me lying half-burnt?!"

    "You know why," Prowl said in an unusually tender tone, his fingers rubbing the cables in Bluestreak's neck in a soothing manner. "You were dying."

    "At least I would have died a mech!"

    "You would still be dead."

    "I now wish I were anyway!"

    Prowl cupped Bluestreak's face and prodded her to look at him. "Don't say that. Don't say that ever again," he said firmly.

    "Why?" she asked, dejected. "Because I'm so important to the Autobot cause?"

    "No. Because then I would have to share a room with Blaster."

    Bluestreak froze, trying to take in what Prowl – the serious, never-made-a-joke-in-his-life Prowl – had said, and her lips started twitching back to a smile. "But… you like Blaster."

    "I do. His music is a different matter entirely."

    That did the trick. Laughter flowed out of her lip components.

    "Oh, Prowl…" She wrapped her arms around Prowl's neck, hugging him tightly. "What would I do without you?"

    "I'd prefer it if we didn't go there," Prowl said, actually returning the embrace for a brief moment before locking his gaze with Bluestreak's again. "Joke aside, I meant what I said. Don't ever think like that, Bluestreak, under any circumstances. Do we have a deal?"

    "Yeah," Bluestreak said and wiped her optics from a couple of tears that still clung stubbornly on her cheeks. "Man, this is pathetic, isn't it? Me crying over…" she stopped midway and shook her head. "I must really be turning into a femme."

    "No," Prowl replied kindly, "You just had a long day."

    "I guess," Bluestreak admitted with a sigh.

    Prowl smiled. "Are you ready to have some rest then?"

    "Actually, can I ask for a favour?" Bluestreak blurted out, before even realising what she was doing.

    "What is it?" the tactician asked, seeming surprised.

    Bluestreak pursed her lips. It was a hard thing to ask of Prowl, of all Autobots. But she somehow knew that he wouldn't refuse either.  

    "Could you… hold me? Just for a little while?" she asked in a soft tone. "Please?"

    Prowl didn't answer, not in words anyway. His arms simply closed around Bluestreak in a protective manner and he let her head rest against his shoulder. Grateful, Bluestreak made herself as small as possible in that embrace, practically burying herself in that kind of warmth she hadn't felt since her creator's death.

    "Thank you," she murmured, shutting her optics.

    Prowl simply caressed her helm in soothing response, offering his comfort in the only way he could.

TBC…