2

If there was one thing Smokescreen missed about Earth, it was the radio and the never-ending noise that went along with it. Music, prank shows, advertisements, frag even the late night calls made by paramours were much more welcome than the silence around him now. He'd been roving for miles without a sight or signal of Bumblebee, and the rolling crackle of his wheels against the rocky surface

Didn't the humans have a song like that?

"Take it easy. Take it easy. Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy,"

Smokescreen laughed, recalling the tune Agent Fowler once blasted in the base. "I knew it! Humans have a song for everything."

He wondered if Bee missed the radio stations too. He knew that the yellow scout was fond of human music, that much info he gathered from Raff. Looking back, the human youngling probably felt a bit uneasy with Smokescreen's not-so-subtle questions about the scout. Smokescreen couldn't help it if he was curious. He knew he was as intrusive as they come, easily stepping into the boundaries of annoyance. But when Smokescreen had it set in his processor to understand a bot, then so be it.

And for a long while now, Smokescreen wanted to understand Bee a lot more. It had gone past the initial curiosity he had towards the odd little scout. The more he learned about Bee, the more elusive the scout was. Answers to questions became questions of their own. And Smokescreen hoped that Bee would be comfortable enough to finally share a bit of the truth in his own words.

After all Bee had his voice back. And with the whole saving Earth and restoring Cybertron thing between them, the blue bot was more than hopeful that Bee would give him a chance.

"Maybe we could start up the stations again," Smokescreen mused, "Get the feeds running. Wonder if Ratchet could send a copy of that terrible music Miko blasted in the base. Play it for the homecoming committee. Nah, that'll just launch everyone back into space. That stuff on Raff's and Jack's playlist though…yeah, that might be better. Bee liked that stuff."

He drove the rest of the night well into the new day, nothing but the sound of his own wheels and voice to keep him company.

"Frag Bee, did you sneak back to Earth or something, what gives?" Smokescreen tried to connect through the comm links. Seemed like Bee disabled his end of the connection.

His systems chimed in one by one, alerting him that he would need to refuel soon. Smokescreen checked the chronometer. He could just ask Arcee or Wheeljack to bridge him back to the construction site.

"Nah, can't go back without Bee," Smokescreen said, "Gotta have something good to report to Prime."

The strange thing was, there was nothing but good to report. The restoration project was well under way. Cybertronians were returning steadily home. Energon was being mined and refined with great success. The Cons…dear Primus, the Cons either defected or shrunk away into the far corners of the galaxy. All was well. Yet Optimus did not seem content.

Smokescreen sighed. Maybe content wasn't the word. Satisfied maybe? At ease?

"Happy," The young bot decided, "He doesn't seem happy."

The world hummed beneath him as the daylight flooded around him. He adjusted his speed, slowing down to rest at the edge of a cliff off the side of the road. Smokescreen transformed and walked over to the ledge, sitting down and letting his legs swing out like a playful sparkling.

"Looks like good old Jasper,"

As much as they reassured the kids back on Earth, even Smokescreen knew traveling back and forth would be difficult. It was light years away. If they could even afford to take long breaks from rebuilding their world in the first place. He sighed, took a small rock in his servo and threw it as far as he could, remembering how Raff and Jack would play a game similar to it in the base.

While this patch of desert mountains wasn't exactly like Jasper's desert, it would suffice as a temporary substitute.

Maybe Bee would like to see it. He could bring him out here, watch the sun rise and pretend that they were all on Earth again. Maybe he could play something off of Raff's playlist to make it feel more authentic.

::Smokescreen. Where have you been?:: The voice was gruff, irritated.

The young soldier tilted his helm to the side, as if to actually face the one speaking to him.

::Hey Jackie:: Smokescreen said ::Running a mission for Optimus. A search::

::Don't call me Jackie kid::

::Don't call me kid, Jackie::

Wheeljack grumbled through the comm link

::Return immediately. We got company coming::

::Oh? Cons or Bots? Are we gonna bring out the high-grade?::

::A ship's been detected, coming pretty fast into the planet's orbit. Signal checks out for an Autobot ship. Still gotta be careful about it though. Magnus is going scattered brained with all these damn safety protocols::

::Heh,:: Smokescreen smiled ::You know, you two have been working too hard::

::Yeah and you don't work enough::

An odd sight caught Smokescreen's optic. A ways below, there was a grove. And there in the grove, a thick stream of oil ran through. The smell was faint, sweet, sticking pleasantly to Smokescreen's olfactory sensors.

::Alright Jackie. I'll report back as soon as I finish this…uh…mission::

::Watch it kid::

::Yeah, yeah, say hi to Magnus for me. Hey Jackie, ya think you two can put in a good word for me? There's this gorgeous place that kinda looks like Jasper. Kinda want Bee to see it. You and

Magnus should totally tag along::

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

::First of all do not call me Jackie again:: Wheeljack said ::Second of all it's a fragging miracle I haven't killed Magnus yet. Don't tempt me with an opportune time and place. And third of all, ya better hurry up if you want get closer to Bee. Rumor is everyone's going crazy for him. Cause, you know…war hero and all::

::Oh. Well thanks. I think::

Wheeljack didn't even say bye before he closed the link. Smokescreen was slightly hurt by that. Fortunately, the sweet scent of the oil river quickly distracted him.

Smokescreen hopped quietly down, following the path of the stream. The bot then realized that several tiny streams seeped from the earth, crossing and pooling into larger portions of oil. He remembered, back before the war, when he was just a sparkling, of the famous oil baths of Iacon. The oils were imported from the wilderness, most of it mined deep from the earth before being refined and sent to the high-end treatment houses. The wealthy paid great money for a single bath. He recalled Arcee talking about the oil baths before. If Arcee of all bots appreciated it, then the experience had to live up to the hype.

He looked around, as if he were trespassing, and carefully scooted towards a larger pool. He dipped one of his pedals down, the dark oil surprisingly warm and smooth. He put the other pedal down, allowing his legs to sink. If was like falling into a thick pile of liquid silk. Or, at least, what he imagined silk would feel like.

His systems relaxed. He didn't realize how tired he actually once until he gave himself a chance to rest.

There was a splash somewhere in the distance.

"Hmmm?" Smokescreen waddled out of the pool. He shook off as much of the oil from him as he could and climbed quietly over the rocks.

His door wings flared out curiously when he peeked over a boulder to see a collection of pools interconnected with streams. And there, soaking in one of those pools was the ever elusive Bumblebee.

"Hey! Hey Bee!"

Smokescreen scrambled down, excited and relieved that he finally found the scout.

The yellow scout was shoulder deep in oil. He seemed tranquil, at peace. That was, until Smokescreen splashed down right beside him.

"Hey Bee! Where have you been? I mean, well…obviously you're here but why'd you give us a hard time tracking you down? You're supposed to be helping Bulkhead with the restoration project right? I heard that Arcee wanted to show you the old building where you were raised, you know, before the Cons blew it up."

Bumblebee's glaring look shut him up immediately. Smokescreen wanted to sink beneath the pool and ponder the wonder that was his rambling mouth.

There were many strange things about courtship Smokescreen did not understand. From his memory, traditionally the guild would dictate which bots should mate. Not that the war left any room for that. The humans were even more bizarre, having a disturbing practice of giving sweet morsels of food along with dead vegetation. How the two items were connected, Smokescreen had no idea. How the human recipients of such gifts could be so delighted over it was another mystery altogether. Especially when the pieces of floral vegetation just kinda…wilted and died.

Regardless, any one of those strange customs were probably more effective than his rambling words. Words that never ceased to annoy the very bot he as trying to impress.

"Uh…sorry about that," Smokescreen said, going over those three simple words over and over in his head to make sure it came out right.

Bumblebee stared at him, blue optics narrowed.

"Well, the real reason I'm here is cause Prime asked me to find you," Smokescreen said, scratching his own helm nervously, "He's worried. Asked me to talk to you."

The yellow scout turned away.

"But we can talk about anything! Anything you wanna talk about." Smokescreen quickly said, shifting so he was in front of Bumblebee, "I can go first…um…wanna hear a confession?"

Bumblebee lifted his helm up and blinked.

"I actually really like hearing you talk. Even when you're telling me to shut up," Smokescreen laughed, his anxiety blabbering through his voice, "I just like the sound you know?"

The yellow and black scout sighed heavily. Smokescreen didn't know exactly what to make of it. Bumblebee waddled away, the oil rolling off his body in thick drops.

"You know I uh…I always wondered what you were thinking all that time, back when your pipes were still messed up. Must have been frustrating." Smokescreen said, following Bumblebee through the pool, "I um—I would actually imagine what your voice would sound like, in my processor you know?"

Bumblebee stopped, the dark oil swishing around them.

"You imagined my voice?"

Smokescreen nodded sheepishly, relieved that Bee finally said something.

"Yeah, I do, um—did! I did." Smokescreen quickly corrected. He smiled, his nerves working overtime.

"That's very creepy," Bumblebee said softly, "As Raff would say."

Smokescreen, ever the optimist, shook off the slight insult.

"You must miss him," The former elite guard said, "I bet he misses you a lot too. I was thinking of asking Ratchet to get Raff to send a copy of the music he usually plays. Human entertainment is strange but it does kinda grow on you."

"Raff would be very busy," Bumblebee said, "With his studies and family."

"He's got a few siblings right?" Smokescreen kept on, knowing a hook for a conversation when he saw one, "He's lucky. I never had siblings. Never even knew my creators. Wish I did though. Alpha Trion said they were both part of the elite guard though. Uh, how about you? Did you ever have an idea about your creators?"

Bumblebee looked at him, as if deciding whether to answer or simply stride away again.

"No," Bumblebee said curtly, "And I never wanted to. Not as a sparkling and not now."

"Probably because you didn't have a reason to," Smokescreen replied.

The yellow bot relaxed against the edge of the pool.

"What do you mean?"

"All I mean is that you probably didn't look for them cause you were always cared for. You know I actually kinda envy you?"

Bumblebee actually laughed in reply. Smokescreen found that he liked that sound as well.

"Being dragged through a war-torn Cybertron, being beaten a spark-beat away from death and losing your vocalizer is hardly a life worth envying."

"You were dragged through a war by some of the best warriors in history!" Smokescreen made excited motions with his arms, his restless energy begging to be released somehow, "You knew Ironhide and Magnus personally. And you were saved from that beating by the best medic Cybertron has ever seen. And more than anything you got to grow up with the greatest hero of the Autobot cause, Optimus Prime himself."

Instead of lightening his mood, Smokescreen's bright words seemed to burden Bumblebee even more. His optics darkened, turning down to stare at the dark oil swirling around them.

"You know something truly strange?" Bumblebee said, "As a sparkling I had no idea just how high up all those mechs raising me were. Ironhide was just Hide, my training instructor, the mech that always advised everyone else on their weapons. Magnus was my confidant, not some commander. Ratchet was the one I ran to when I fell and scraped my knee.

Smokescreen wanted to reach out and touch Bumblebee's shoulder, nothing suggestive, just something to show his support. He thought better of it when Bee shifted away.

"We were family…just a family trying to survive the war. I had no idea how crucial they were until I got older…until it finally clicked that the world was a dying, desperate place. And I realized just how small I was compared to them."

"They didn't see that way," Smokescreen said, "At least I don't think so."

"They sheltered me," Bee continued, "Kept me out of the way. Trained me but never let me into the field until there was no other choice. And Prime—"

Bee's intakes drew a heavy, angry breath.

"I remember him being distant. Always watching me, asking others how I was. Very rarely did he ever speak to me as a child except to maybe correct my mistakes, and I made so many."

"He must have been busy," Smokescreen replied, "With the war and all."

"But I knew he wanted to be close. I could sense it. Whenever I fell ill as a sparkling, he was there, always beside me when I regained consciousness. When I asked him he would always deny it. He lied every time," Bee shook his helm, his vocals breaking, "I never understood why."

The scout laughed, the sound more bitter than joyous.

"I've spent so many cycles wanting to know why. When the answer finally came I spent the cycles wishing I never knew. Wondering how I missed it. Wondering all sorts of 'whys' and 'hows' and dreading the answers."

"I wish I knew what you meant Bee," Smokescreen said, trying to find words for once, "I really do—"

"I'm not asking you to," Bumblebee said, turning to face the other mech.

Smokescreen's spark pulsed deeply when he felt nimble fingers tracing the seams of his chassis, the touch slowly drawing up to the curve of his neck.

"Bee—"

"I don't want to think. I'd anything else other than think. I'll go insane if I do." Bumblebee said, pressing himself against Smokescreen's larger body. The scout's optics were wide, pleading.

"Bee, I can't—"

"Please," Bee breathed against his mouth, "Smokescreen…"

The blue mech caught his breath as Bumblebee's legs parted around him.

"Bee, no," Smokescreen stammered, though he made no move to stop the scout's motions, "You're not processing things clearly. This isn't you."

Smokescreen yelped as he felt the smaller mech's interface panel retract. Bumblebee sought Smokescreen's servo beneath the oil, and lead it down.

"You have no idea where I came from or who I am."

Smokescreen gasped as his fingers were swallowed in heat, smoldering, smooth, and deep.

"Should it even matter?" Bee rolled his hips, his blue optics flaring in pain as Smokescreen's fingers dove deeper into his folds. The shock of it radiated, spreading throughout his array, drawing out the sticky, hot fluids from his nodes. Fluids that only encouraged Smokescreen's digits to slide in further.

At that last thrust, the mech's fingers hit something hard and solid, and the small scout's optics clenched in pain from the touch.

"Primus!" Bumblebee bucked forward, bracing an arm around Smokescreen's shoulder as his pedals gave way.

Smokescreen quickly retracted his fingers, his senses returning rapidly to his processors.

"Your seal—" The blue mech was blabbering again, "I—uh—your seal—"

"So what of it?" Bumblebee snapped, almost defensively, "You've never broke one before?"

"It's not that," Smokescreen said, backing away, "This is happening way too fast."

"Too fast? Did you, of all mechs, just say that?"

"You're not thinking straight," Smokescreen pulled himself out of the pool before he could forgo his choice. He sent a location signal to their makeshift base, hoping that someone would reply immediately before he lost Bee again, "I'm contacting Prime and you're coming back to base."

"I'm not some sparkling Prime or anyone else can just pick up and drag wherever they please." Bumblebee's words cracked from the pressure, "Nothing you or anyone says will change that."

"We'll see," Smokescreen said, putting a servo up to stop Bee's advance. The scout was furious, his face narrow and crossed.

::Smokescreen!::

::Jackie? Hey, I found Bee. Get us a ground bridge. Right now::

::Ya got some perfect timing kid. You know what ship we were tracing? Finally landed:: Wheeljack chuckled ::Looks like Bee's gonna have a lot of explaining to do::

::What?::

::Tell the kid to open his comm links. Someone wants to talk to him::

::I don't think he's ready to talk to anyone. Ground bridge now::

::Ironhide kiddo:: Wheeljack said ::Tell him it's Hide. And better tell him to hurry up cause that old war-freak's got quite a lot to say::

TBC

A/N: I tried. *shrugs*