"Oh, slag it all!" he cursed, bouncing to his feet and rushing into the kitchen to stuff sealed containers full of treats and confections that were required to stock his shop into his subspace. "I'm going to be late!"

"What are you gonna beh late fo'?" Deepfire asked drowsily, having been woken by the jostling he had just received since his helm had been laying on the Praxian's thigh. He stretched after hopping off of the couch, his spinal linkages settling back into place with a sharp crack, before following the black and white into the kitchen for further investigation. There had to be a good reason for his recharge to have been interrupted so rudely.

"I have to open the shop in the next couple of breems – which I could still accomplish if the new speed limits weren't in place. However, the Neuts got their way on that bit of the Compromise and, since Drift had all but demanded a racetrack on our land already, we gave in on that to get something else. Right now, I am questioning that decision, though I think that what we gained was more important and that the Neuts also have no idea how to handle speed and situational awareness simultaneously to any degree, or at least not to the degree that we have learned."

"And ya can't stay closed for tha cycle? Plead fam'ly 'mergency?"

"No, I can't be closed for the day, even for a 'family emergency'. The shop only recently opened and being opened late will leave a bad enough impression with the possible customers. They should be able to depend on timeliness."

Deepfire's tail waved lazily behind him as he considered the argument the former tactician was making. While they had all been looking forward to getting to spend a lot of time with him – and he knew that the greeting Locator, Pounce, and Diver were going to give him would be more than amusing – there was little that he could truly use to argue with him. They would be able to regal him with their tales as easily there at the shop as they could when they had him to themselves, though they would be required to refrain from mentioning sensitive material in front of the Neuts or former Decepticons as the information was limited to the agents on the case and the command element of the Autobots.

"Fair 'nough," he finally conceded as he returned his thoughts to the matter at hand from where he had been considering the show that Locator would put on in an attempt to act out their parts in his stories as he related them to the Praxian. "Ya'll give me a ride and I'll lounge around the shop." He ran a critical optic over the doorwinger's frame. "As long as ya've the room fo' me."

The amount of free space in the Praxian's interior appeared to have shrunk since he had scanned another alt mode when they had tried to disguise themselves on Earth. That could make it much more difficult for him to fit as it had already been a rather tight fit before the war had begun and Prowl had partially reformatted to an even more armored variation of his frame type, especially since he appeared to have a transformation that allowed for very little interior space at this time. He could not be sure though as he had yet to experience much about the black and white's new alt. Analog, his carrier-host, had been approached to work as an Autobot bounty hunter at about the same time Prowl had chosen his heavier armor that he had been encouraged to take, meaning that they had been unable to even test the limits of that alteration. With both Prowl and Jazz having argued for his acceptance, he had caved rather quickly, especially when presented with the facts and extrapolations that Prowl had done that showed how much safer his cabal would be operating in that capacity. Where he had gotten some of the information that he had used in those calculations was a mystery, but even if it had been a premonition, they would have agreed with him, he was just that good.

The black and white looked over at the large frame of the cyberwolf that had first stolen his spark when they had begun working together. "You should be able to fit if I put my seats down and open the trunk up to the passenger compartment as well, as long as you are comfortable laying down instead of sitting. You should still be able to see through the windows if you do, though I hope you will not injure your spinal linkages unnecessarily."

He frowned at the reminder of his exclusion from the events that had taken place that had almost resulted in the cyberwolf's paralysis, if not amputation at the hips. The fact that they had not had easy access to a medic had left all of the fine repairs to Analog's systems, meaning that, with the severity of Deepfire's injuries, he still had a long way to go before he could finally move as smoothly as he used to. Even now, Prowl knew that the cyberwolf would never consent to a medic's attention, so he did not bother to ask, though he would be sure to offer massages and treats with the proper minerals for repair for the foreseeable future. Hopefully, there would be no need for the symbiont to do anything that would slow his healing that day, because he had been hoping to be able to go for a long run over the slowly recovering landscape. For now, that activity would have to put off.

He transformed down into his far outdated Earth alt mode as he stepped out of the door and off the porch, lifting the entire side of the car in a complex transformation to give the quadruped more room to maneuver in. It was not the most comfortable position he had been in, but he enjoyed being able to provide for Analog's cabal in ways that he would never be able to his own. Only Jazz, because of his former position as his handler, was aware of the extent of the difficulties he had with his programming in relation to symbionts and any mech that was placed under his care, though he knew that Analog and Ratchet suspected there were problems with his core coding and frame compatibility. Neither had ever approached him about what they had noticed, but he did not believe that silence would hold for much longer since the war had officially come to an end. After all, Ratchet had been giving him suspicious – and then knowing – looks that heralded the fact that he had come to some kind of conclusion. Hopefully it was the right one so that the conversation would not turn in the decidedly awkward direction, which could lead to more of their interactions being impeded. Such an event would not benefit him to any degree as the medic was one of the few mecha that he considered to be a friend and part of his support network. It would also impact the amount of gossip he would hear, which was part of what had kept him so interested in the army and had kept many of them from thinking even worse of him.

The cyberwolf slid in slowly, careful to not scratch his plating against the sensitive plates that comprised Prowl's interior, and arranged himself to his comfort. He barely fit. Thankfully, the trip in to the former tactician's shop went relatively quickly and uneventfully, leaving the doorwinger in a more relaxed mood since no customers had been waiting on him to arrive. There was also little for him to stock since he had not sold much the days before. Sadly, this day did not seem like it would be any different since at least the day before had seen a few of the Neutrals stopping in to see what was there. Most of them had no knowledge of English, the most commonly used Earth language, and had no interest in learning, so had not known what the sign was advertising. Trying to translate it into Cybertronian was a lost cause, though, as there had never been a specific word for what he made.

Deepfire wandered around the small room, thoroughly categorizing every scent and sound that he came across. He sneezed loudly before wandering over and stretching out in front of one of the display cases to return to his interrupted recharge. The doorwinger had no need for his presence besides the obvious calming he experienced by having one of Analog's cabal nearby.

The black and white gazed fondly at the teal and red symbiont before returning to his careful stocking. Hopefully, Deepfire would recharge as long as he needed to before awakening again. In any case, he was not expecting anyone to stop by that early, so he allowed himself to become absorbed in another of his novels for a while after he finished unloading his subspace before being rudely jerked from the book file by a deep, rumbling – and familiar – growl.

He looked up, only to see the bristling form of his cyberwolf companion glaring across the shop at the shocked face plates of one of Soundwave's mech-kin twins. The expression on Rumble's face quickly morphed into his own form of bristling bravado, his arms extending in a 'come get me, bro' gesture that confused Deepfire enough for his helm to twitch slightly sideways in curiosity. It was an old – very old – gesture that the blue mech-kin had picked up during their time on Earth and never overwritten with something more characteristically Cybertronian or ever having deemed it an inappropriate response to a situation. Sideswipe had used the same stance and gesture when confronting Menasor one time that had, amazingly, caused the combiner team to break apart because a couple of the members had been laughing too hard for the necessary concentration to stay combined. The red hellion had strutted around the base, basking in his glory, until the aftermath of the next battle.

"Come on, big boy! Bring it!"

The display was something that he probably would have found hilarious if he had not known of Rumble's fighting prowess and his propensity for using weak spots to his advantage. As it was, interrupting such a display was not going to do anything to help Deepfire since they were used, in a rather primitive way, to determine hierarchy for symbionts and stepping in would make the one being protected fall in rank, which he would not do to either of them since he highly respected the both of them. The only thing Prowl really wished for right then was a good recording of what was taking place from one of Jazz's hidden cameras, which would surely happen if the former saboteur was actively watching the feed, since he was sure that their respective carrier-hosts would be interested in watching their first interaction. It was definitely a likely possibility since the other black and white had confessed that he enjoyed watching him do just about anything, from reading to sparring to giving orders in the middle of a battle with a sniper rifle being sighted in on an enemy. In fact, he professed that last one to be one of the images that revved his engine quickest outside of those he had captured when they had previously interfaced.

When Rumble attempted to step further into the shop, Deepfire's growl deepened further and he stepped forward in challenge as his plating flared, attempting to make him appear more threatening. It did nothing to phase Rumble.

"Oh, get over yaself," the mech-kin stated with a negligent wave of his hand in the cyberwolf's direction. "I'm 'ere as a customer and happily bonded anyway. Don't need tha mech ta feel complete. Ya really need ta get yer spinal linkages look at though. The repair's goin' real slow. Probably a bit more than it should be." He then fully dismissed the other symbiont and approached Prowl confidently, though the doorwinger was sure that the former Decepticon still had a number of his sensors trained on the cyberwolf in case he became a further threat. "Gotta ladder or steps so I can get up on the counter?"

Deepfire snorted softly, his helm shaking as he turned his back on them, accepting the other symbiont's presence in the same room as him. He curled back up where he had been resting, though this time he lay on his stomach plating and his optics did not shutter closed. He would remain wary of the other for all that Prowl seemed to accept his company easily.

"Of course, Rumble," he answered with a wave in the direction of the set he had carved in the edge of the counter specifically to accommodate his frame type. It would not do to assume that each symbiont would enjoy, or even consent to, being picked up, so he had fashioned them with some help from Scrapper and Scavenger. The latter had also helped him find the materials that he had required for them. "I assume you are here because Ratbat mentioned the place?"

"Yep. Overheard the bat talkin' 'bout ya and how he was gonna be shinier than he already is, plus how ya needed ta be investigated." His optics rolled dramatically as he climbed the steps to stand closer to the Praxian's height. "Zee's already asked if we can Duct Tape 'im a few times since he don't know the meanin' of 'shut the frag up' or 'quit ya stupid suspicions', which I'm sure ya know all about with some'a yer Autobots. How did ya even stay awake long enough ta listen ta Perceptor or Bluestreak? Or deal with Red's conspiracy theories? He gives tha Boss migraines over tha little things." The rhetorical questions garnered a sharp snort of laughter from the doorwinger, though he did have to agree with the observations at times. "Either way, I'm ta pick those up if they're ready and I wanted a look of my own. We all gotta check it out if Sounder's impressed."

"Would you like a few samples of your own along with taking some for Frenzy?" he asked, doorwings jerking sharply forward in shock and surprise at the second-hand compliment even as he stepped behind the counter and over towards the display cases in case he agreed. "I can't get you Ratbat's today, but it should be done either tomorrow or the day after. The batch of energon is still being infused for the right taste and the right mix of metals still needs to be made."

His red visor brightened in surprise and excitement of the offer being made since he had not been expecting anything of the sort when he had stepped inside for all that he had been hoping after the way his carrier-host and the boltbat had been greeted. Some of his hope was also based in the fact that the owner was Prowl – one of the Autobots they had come to know as extremely accepting and welcoming. None of the Decepticons knew why that was, but they were not going to question it since he had been the first 'Bot they had been formally introduced to and he had made them realize that not all of those on the opposing side were as weak or as privileged as they had thought. This was only reinforced by some of the moves he used during the sparring that had taken place daily on Earth as the Treaty was drawn up by him and Thundercracker. Those that had stood out were ones exclusively used, and taught, in one of the gladiator pits that had been best known for the number of deactivations and injuries that required full-frame rebuilds that occurred there. That, however, left them all wondering how he had escaped and, to a lesser degree, how he had ended up with the Autobots instead of with them.

"Got anythin' with magnesium? I like the burn ya get from it, but Zee don't like it. His favorite's sulfur, which I think is too bitter. Plus, it kinda stinks." His nose wrinkled slightly at the thought, showing the degree of his displeasure with both the smell and the taste. "Think he'll be in later though. Sounders had him workin' on a project this mornin' that I was barred from." He wriggled his fingers with a grin. "Somethin' 'bout bein' too destructive."

Prowl grinned lightly at the openness the mech-kin was showing around him as he pulled out a small platter that he stacked a few confections on as samples. He would have to hold out hope that the samples he had been giving out over the last few days would pay off in the long run since he had not yet turned a profit. If only the Neutrals that passed the shop each morning would stop in to see what was there, he was sure that he would be able to operate in the black. No matter what the future held for him, Rumble was there at that time and deserved to have the better part of his attention focused on him and what he was looking for, so he shoved his worries to the back of his processor and allowed an analysis to run on the information he had learned from the Neutrals the day before.

"There are several with magnesium, both pure and mixed with other metals. Some of them have energon layers in the middle or a sticky high-grade that is injected into a still slightly molten shape. There is also a specialty of mine available, which is a rust stick dipped in molybdenum and then rolled in magnesium flakes that falls apart rather easily." Laying his selections in front of the symbiont, he pulled back to give him more room to look over what was there, which he took quick advantage of, even going so far as to reach out and rest a hand on his forearm to steady himself as he knelt for a closer look.

Rumble hummed deep in his chest for a long moment, hand coming up to prop his helm at the angle he desired. Reading his expressions would have been difficult for the majority of the population, but Prowl had no problem as he had been close friends with – and then lover to – a mech that spent the majority of his life behind his own piece of trans-steel. His optics danced over each of the pieces, picking and choosing the ones that looked most interesting to ask further questions on. Before he was even able to ask, Prowl pointed to one of the ones that he had spent the most time looking at.

"That one is made of thin silver wafers crushed and dropped into a slightly molten mixture of magnesium and tin that is allowed to cool and then broken into the rough pieces you see here."

He pointed at another. "These have a thick bar of magnesium that is covered in a layer of copper, thicker on one side than the other, and then the side with a greater amount of copper is rolled in a tray full of magnesium flakes and carbon powder."

As he paused to decide which to next describe, Rumble broke in. "Mech, how'd ya know?"

Prowl chuckled lowly. "I have been with Jazz for the majority of my life. If I had not learned how to read a mech's expression through, and despite, the visor, it is unlikely we would have won the war. We had many the discussion, and made many the decision, without even speaking a word to each other outside of what was being said to keep a conversation going as a cover."

"So that's how come we couldn't find any comm. signals 'tween ya! Never was any!" He gave a short fist pump at the knowledge. "I so won that bet!"