Hot Damn (Bitch Got That Ass Like)

[Conway]

He just watches Mirages browsing, letting him keep the datapad for now.
"I love it. It's wonderful here, everything is new."

[avisis]

"It's all foreign." He flicks further, then offers the datapad back with a slight wave. "I suppose I'm still becoming comfortable."

He isn't, really, and he doesn't intend to. Still, he'll have to check those cathedrals out.

[Conway]

He accepts the datapad back, flicking it back to information on the Grand Canyon so he can continue preparing for that trip.
"It's all really interesting."

[avisis]

"To a trained eye." Or a simple one, but he avoids highlighting that. Instead he turns back to his own vidscreen. He's too antsy now to stay polite, so he wisely cuts himself off, digging into his own things until he can avoid saying anything further.



Nothing comes of the moment of sharing. Within a week, Mirage has mostly forgotten it occurred; Hound doesn't cross paths with him, and he's a little too buzzed after meeting Jazz to discuss future agent policies to be worrying about some scout unit. When he enters the rec room to find it half-full, several missions having dumped a pile of mechs back into base at once, he just tips his helm down and moves for the energon. In and out is always best.

[Conway]

Hound happens to be one of those recently back from a mission, so recently in fact that he still has a fine dusting of the deserts red sand clinging portions of him. He won't notice Mirage at first as he's in an animated discussion with Windcharger and Cliffjumper.

[avisis]

He makes the mistake of making eye contact at the refueling stand.

Most other bots, it would be okay. But he has to go and lift his head up to meet eyes with goddamn Sunstreaker. Of all the lousy luck---

"What're you looking at?" says the yellow mech, even though Mirage has already looked away. He doesn't turn his eyes back as he responds.

"Not you."

"Yeah?" There's a snort. "Smart guy."

He doesn't respond. Sunstreaker's voice doesn't lower, but there's a change in the tone that says he's addressing his brother now; something in the voice that isn't there otherwise. "Goddamn smart mech." His brother tosses off something quiet and inconsequential in reply. "No, he's a fuckin' rich mech, is what. Can't you smell the high grade?"

"I'm taking the same rations as you," he's unable to keep himself from pointing out, more incensed than he wants to be. Sunstreaker turns fully, weight loose and easy on his feet.

"Oh?" says the bot. "One of us now, huh? Real salt of the fucking earth?"

"What?" is the brilliant reply that comes first.

[Conway]

Hound wouldn't have noticed so soon if Cliffjumper's attention wasn't so suddenly and completely diverted from the conversation. He had to look and see what was so interesting.
Oh.
It was like that was it?

[avisis]

He feels the prickly, unhappy edge on the back of his neck that means others are watching. Great. Terrific. He feels really good about this whole affair.

Sunstreaker said something, but Mirage was too busy glaring down Tracks to hear; the younger mech across the room colors and looks quickly away, speaking fast and vapid to Perceptor again. Perceptor is only half-listening, a small frown quirking his lips as he watches. Mirage realizes he's falling short and looks at Sunstreaker again. "Sorry, what?"

"Bitch," says Sunstreaker dismissively, non-aggressively, waving him off. The spy's joints creak with tension.

"If you've got something to say to me---"

"Said it!"

"What is your problem?! I haven't even dealt with you yet!"

"Don't have a problem."

"You're just a rude asshole on principle then."

"Just about," grins Sunstreaker, without amusement.

[Conway]

Hound excused himself from Cliffjumper and Windcharger. He knows getting involved isn't the wisest idea but no one with rank enough to take Sunstreaker to task was present and it also wasn't wise to let the situation escalate.
"Hey, Sunny."
He approached casual and friendly. The usual.
"I hate to interrupt, but you mind if I borrow Mirage here? Prowl wants me to bring him along for a scout briefing."
It's a lie of course.

[avisis]

"A briefing, he says." Sunstreaker says it deadpan, disbelieving, non-aggressive. "A scouting party, he says. Prowl, he says."

But the Lambo is already being pulled easily away by his brother. Mirage, for his part, is not so easily disengaged; his struts are stiff, glaring at the bright yellow back, and his eyes transfer just as harshly to Hound. "A briefing now?"

[Conway]

There's not a direct answer.
"Come on, you got your energon?"
He'll wait for him to get it, but would clearly like to leave the rec room.

[avisis]

Mirage only gives an aggressive 'mm-hm' in response, and his push to follow Hound is made with tightly-wound springs. He's not sure exactly why he's furious at the mech for interfering, when there's a good reason for it, but he is.

The moment the rec room door is shut behind them, he bursts out, in a low, hissed tone. "Those two are hardly worth calling soldiers."

[Conway]

He leads on down the hall.
" Oh they're perfectly capable soldiers, good civilian is what you'd hardly call them."

[avisis]

"I don't think I'd call them civil at all." He frowns.

The frown deepens. "Aren't the meeting rooms back the other way?"

[Conway]

Hound frowned to himself, this is the part where Mirage would be angry with him.
"Yeah, ah. We don't actually have a meeting."
He keeps moving, his actually heading towards the main entrance/exit of the Ark.