Chapter Text
The first meeting was an accident.
Spike and Carly had mentioned something about ‘drive-in movies’, and Optimus had given the two youngest Autobots the night off specifically so the humans could introduce them to this form of entertainment.
Probably also because Bluestreak and Bumblebee had been brimming with energy, to the point that the young mechs had been distracting others for interaction. The incident with Gears, neon yellow paint bullets, and a rigged trapdoor was most likely tested the last of Optimus Prime’s patience.
“- Going to be soooo exciting! I love human movies, but it’s so hard to claim the screen in the rec room ‘cus everyone wants to use it, and Prowl told me off for asking Teletran to play one because we need that screen for SkySpy surveillance - which is all well and good! But we mostly hear about Decepticons from humans anyway! - and I should ‘use the designated entertainment areas’. But those-!”
“We’re here!” Carly’s gleeful shout stops Bluestreak’s ramble mid-way. Both he and Bumblebee pull to a halt, Bee stopping to open his doors for the humans. Spike mutters a ‘thank god’ at the same time Bumblebee sighs a relief of ‘thank Primus’.
Bluestreak’s a great best friend, he really is, but even Bumblebee values quiet drives and introspective moments.
The two Cybertronians transform to their pedes, and look around the empty field, hills on one side and the city behind them. There’s thick forest to their left, expanding to the city limits and stretching over the hills, carefully trimmed back to keep forest fires from reaching too close to the city.
“So, uh… Where’s this big screen, guys?” Spike laughs at Bumblebee’s question, gesturing over the hill.
“C’mon. It might have a drive-in section, but I thought we’d be more comfortable on the verge.”
“That’s why you had me bring, like, a thousand and something blankets!!!” From his subspace, Bluestreak pulls out what looks like a mountain of blankets. One of them almost falls to the ground, but Carly is quick to catch it and fold it over one of her arms.
“Six blankets, Bluestreak. And yes, it’s so we can all sit on the grass together!” Spike is already heading up the large hill, waving for the three of them to follow. Carly wastes no time, running towards him and shoving the blanket in Bumblebee’s servos as she passes, then tackles Spike at the crest of the hill.
Laughing, the two teens topple over the crest and - presumably - roll down the other side. Bumblebee laughs softly and follows after them, stopping at the hill summit to vent in amazement.
“Wow…” The hills, green verge on the edge of the forest, and other side of the clearing is dotted with humans. Couples of all ages, and even a few families with teenage children sit on their own spread out blankets, some with snacks and some without, some with candlelight, some with gas lamps, others with battery lights.
In the center is a large carpark, and every space is filled. They all face in one direction, towards the rigged up screen that hangs between two steadying poles. The canvas moves slightly as it’s pulled taunt by workers at the bottom winding cables tight.
Between the darkened streetlights of the carpark hangs strings of Asian-style lanterns, glowing softly golden with synthetic lights inside. Those will stay on during the film, but they’re low light enough to not interfere. All in all, it’s quite… Cozy.
The projector - manned by a lone volunteer - sits just behind the car park, atop what look like a renovated lifeguard’s chair. It’s high enough to project over the cars, but low enough that the projected image (currently a series of trailers for upcoming movies) is visible from all angles.
“Blue, hurry up! You gotta see this!”
“I’m coming! I’m co- Woah, hold on!” Dropping and tripping over blankets in turn as he picks them back up, Bluestreak clumsily makes his way to the top.
And that’s when his doorwings twitch.
He’s sensing something.
Something… off.
Something that instantly puts him into a state of high alert and on edge. He can’t tell what it is, so for a split moment, as Bumblebee takes the blankets from him, Bluestreak runs a quick scan. His optics adjust for the lighting - from the soft glow of the lanterns to the darkened slopes behind the projector - and comes back with nothing.
“Blue? You okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, Bee. I was just… Thinkin’. I mean, there’s a lot of people around, right? And I’m about twice your height so sliiiiiightly taller than twice most human’s height-”
“Thanks, Blue.”
“- so I’ll need to sit somewhere near the back, but I don’t wanna make Spike and Carly compensate on a reeeally good spot, so, uh, maybe? I could sit somewhere else? Not that I want to be separated, but I think it would be considerate!” For a moment, Bumblebee looks apprehensive. And a little upset.
“Are you sure, Blue…? We can easily sit near the back…”
“No, it’s good. I’m good. And honestly, I’m probably gonna mumble all the way through the film. I love talking about movies, even while they’re happening, and I don’t think many others appreciate it, y’know?”
“That’s true…” Bee contemplates it for a moment, concern still radiating in his field, but he eventually gives a little nod, pats Bluestreak’s upper arm (it’s as high as he can reach!), and smiles reassuringly.
“Join us at any point, ‘kay? Or meet us back here afterwards.” Venting a sigh of relief, Bluestreak squeezes one of Bumblebee’s shoulders gently.
“Thanks for understanding, ‘Bee. Let Spike an’ Carly know I’m sorry, but I’ll still be around!”
“Will do!” With a bright grin and thumbs up at his best friend, Bumblebee trots happily down the hill towards his waiting human friends with blankets in his arms. Bluestreak watches fondly as the humans greet the minibot enthusiastically, and then look up at Bluestreak, Spike holding up a thumbs up with a questioning tilt to his head.
Bluestreak sends back a confident thumbs up, and the teens relax, concern turning into content as they wave up at him and then turn to find a spot to settle.
Bluestreak, on the other servo, can’t settle at all.
Something, just something, is making him uneasy. He’s alert, he’s aware, he’s anxious. His doorwinds keep twitching, fluttering, and adjusting oh-so-slightly.
It’s all of a sudden that Bluestreak realises his doorwings are unintentionally searching for something. No- Feeling something. They can sense what’s wrong before his processor even can. His optics widen with realization as his doorwings lock onto what feels like a pulsing signal.
“That’s definitely not Bumblebee’s field…”
With sharp optics that only a sniper could possess, Bluestreak sweeps his gaze over every inch of the surrounding area, looking for anything out of place, anything that didn’t belong or fit in or-
There!
His doorwings snap into position to angle them towards the dark, shadowy triangle that pokes out very slightly above a tree waaaay back in the forest. It could have been mistaken for a leaf, but Bluestreak is observant. Has seen too much.
He senses.
It’s definitely a Cybertronian field, that’s for sure, and considering it’s one that he doesn’t recognize, Bluestreak is sure it’s either a neutral who’s been hiding on Earth, or a Decepticon.
The last one is concerning.
There’s so many humans here, people who could be hurt if a Decepticon did… Well, Decepticon things!
“Okay, no pressure, absolutely no pressure at all! I mean, it is all on me and I’m the only one who’s seen there’s someone hiding in the dark, so I’m the only one who can do anything about it and I’m not sure I can make the right decision, which is… Kind of a lot of pressure… But yeah! No pressure!” Bluestreak tweaks tediously at his optical sensors until he filters out the light from the surrounding area, bringing the forest area into dim but distinguishable view. His spark drops in his chamber at the same time his wings tilt downwards.
“Oh no, that is so much pressure…”
A single seeker silhouette in the shadows.
No head cone in sight.
One of the Elite Trine.
“No, wait! No need to jump to conclusions. It- It could a neutral… Or a lost Autobot! Or, or… Oh, who am I kidding?” With a groan somewhere between despair and exhaustion, questioning why he has to be the one to do this, Bluestreak inches closer.
If his friends have noticed him heading towards the forest instead of a clear spot on the hill, they don’t mention it.
He hopes they’ve noticed.
Really hopes they’ve noticed.
Because if the seeker spots him before he spots them… Well, there’s not likely to be much Bluestreak left to take back to the Ark.
“It’d be more like ground streak. Streak on the ground. Smushed up bits of me, streaked across the ground. … Why am I thinking about my name like this?! Nerves. Must just be nerves. Yup.”
He’s getting closer.
Letting out one last slow ex-vent, Bluestreak mutes his vocaliser and creeps closer. He’s helped unexpectedly by the lights in the carpark turning off, using only the golden glowing lanterns to lead him to the suspicious observer.
Somehow, he manages to make it deeper into the forest than the lurking individual, and pulls out his blaster. From this close, he can’t snipe.
From this close, he couldn’t possibly miss.
Pit, even Beachcomber couldn’t miss from here, and he intentionally aimed to miss.
“If you blast a hole through my helm before the movie even starts, I’m going to reject the Pit and haunt you for the rest of your pitiful Autobot existence.” Bluestreak almost drops his gun, but manages to - barely - avoid pulling the trigger. Red optics don’t even tear away from the screen in front of them, and Bluestreak shutters his optics as he identifies the looming mech.
Thundercracker.
Who… He really thought had the bare minimal survival instincts.
“Who says that when there’s a gun at their helm?!”
“Someone who can see the movie is clearly starting. Shush.”
What.
Wait, what?
What???
“You’re watching??? The- The movie…???” A low, warning growl from the seeker. Despite his apparent irritation, his wings are angled forwards in interest and enthusiasm as the intro scene for ‘Earthquake’ plays on the cloth screen.
“Why else would I be here, Autoscum?” Sure, he’s starting to get into passive-aggressive territory, but Thundercracker’s field - and more telling, his wings - indicate his honesty.
He’s… Genuinely just here for the movie.
For all that Bluestreak talks, blabbers, rambles, and prattles, in this split astrosecond, he’s speechless.
“Screenplay by Mario Puzo?! I love that guy’s work!” Quirking an optical ridge, Bluestreak shuffles uneasily.
“Who- Uh… Who’s Mario Pozo…?” Thundercracker whips his helm round to the sniper with an expression of disbelief, like he’s actually stunned that Bluestreak doesn’t recognise this one human among the millions of humans that exist. Even more bizarre, he seems to be completely ignoring the blaster still pointed at his helm.
“Mario Puzo! You know, Mario Puzo?”
“Uhhhhhh…” Rolling his optics, Thundercracker turns his optics back to the screen, resting his chin in his servos. A leaf from the trees above him flutters down onto his shoulders, joining others that have fallen there in the time he’s been hiding.
Part of Bluestreak wonders if he was here even before the screen was set up.
It’s the only way a Decepticon could have gotten here without being seen by humans.
“He wrote The Godfather in 1969, and screen-wrote the film adaptation in 1972. I think this movie - Earthquake - is his third work. Mark Robson, the director, has a pretty good reputation too.” For a moment, trusting his instincts, Bluestreak allows his gaze to briefly flicker from the Seeker to the movie below.
His optics quickly snap back to the screen with a gasp of delight, doorwings wiggling in sheer glee.
“That’s Geneviѐve Bujold! She got a Golden Globe for her acting as Anne Boleyn! Oh, she was so elegant, I love her!”
“I think she has three Canadian Film Awards too, all for best actress.” During their talking, Bluestreak lowers the gun, still keeping it in servo, but not pointed anywhere as dangerous - or fatal - as a helm.
As he slowly moves to sit cross legged on the forest floor, peering out through thin foliage, Thundercracker shuffles across to make room for both his wingspan, and the stretch of Praxian doorwings.
For a small moment, all is quiet.
And then…
“Well, one of those two is going to die for sure, if not both of them.” A vent of almost relief escapes Bluestreak. He’d been desperately trying not to talk so he didn’t annoy the Decepticon, but it seemed like Thundercracker was okay with conversation during movies too!
Or, at least he spoke.
Maybe conversation was okay?
But what if it wasn’t…?
Only one way to find out.
“I mean, we’ve been introduced to 4 characters already, and it is a disaster movie, so at least one of the four is going to die. But what makes you think it’s definitely one of these two?” With a little scoff, Thundercracker rolls his optics.
“Did you not just hear what the store manager said? If someone says ‘next time’ in a disaster movie before the disaster happens, there will never, never, be a next time. Either he’s going to die, or the one he’s speaking to will die.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, but that could just be a reference to the incoming earthquake, it doesn’t have to be death! That’s morbid. And like, an overused trope.”
“It’s not a trope, it’s a connotation. Those lines are intentionally written to be a red flag.”
“But what if I don’t want it to be~?” Thundercracker opens his mouth to answer, but then screws it up in disgust at the screen.
“Oh, of course there’s a mating scene. Humans and their disgusting need to publicise what should be private.” Bluestreak shutters his optics, focuses back on the screen, and promptly switches his optics off.
“Ew! I really didn’t need to see that! I’m going to have bad refluxes for weeks, I’m going to need therapy, I think I’ll ask Ratchet to erase this particular memory-”
“... It could be romantic, if he wasn’t a cheating pile of scrap.” Once more, Bluestreak finds himself speechless, staring with wide optics at the seeker who has just the faintest colour on his cheekplates, looking in the complete opposite direction, sheepish and shy.
“Oh my Primus, you’re a hopeless romantic…” There’s a small, almost insulted grumble from Thundercracker, and his wings lift up, tilting forwards, as if he was ruffling himself up or trying to hide beneath them. His field only show embarrassment though, none of the aggression Bluestreak belatedly realises he could have gotten.
“M’not.”
“You literally just said it could be romantic.”
“... Shurrup…” At the answer he would more expect from Sunstreaker than a literal Decepticon, Bluestreak quietly laughs and turns his attention back to the film. It’s all just casual conversation about the movie between them until one particular scene.
The Elevator.
One of the most notorious scenes of any disaster movie, the scene itself could be called a disaster. It’s supposed to be tragic, yes, watching an elevator plunge 25 floors, killing everyone inside, but…
It’s just so bad it’s funny.
Thundercracker and Bluestreak whip their helms to each other, optics bright and wings/doorwings wiggling with mirth before they both burst out laughing, joining the crowd below.
Badly animated blood added post-production turned this disaster movie into a comedy.
“Pr-Primus, that was so gaudy! Who’s idea was it to do that?! Did they not watch their own film and realise how stupid it was?”
“I think- I think it was superimposed over a still frame.” Thundercracker covers his mouth with a servo, trying to hide the crinkle of his olfactory sensor as he snorts in amusement, forcefully stopping himself laughing before it draws anyone’s attention to the forest.
Bluestreak does the same, knowing that the Decepticon is likely to turn on him if they’re discovered by outside forces. They keep to whispers and telltale glances - including the smug grin Thundercracker flashes him when one the characters he’d marked for death dies.
“Told ya so.” Bluestreak only shoves very lightly at his shoulder, not showing how impressed he is that Thundercracker was right.
“Bet you the cheater dies next.”
“Oh, please! He’s the main character, he’s not going to die! There’s no way any producer would kill off the main character when they’ve spent all this time building up audience rapport and painting him as this invincible, undefeatable hero of Los Angeles.” The character on screen, a macho leading man all the way, seems to pull a jackhammer out of nowhere in a situation that just specifically calls for it, and Bluestreak holds his servos out to gesture ‘see?’.
Thundercracker’s response is to raise his optical ridge.
“He’ll die. Probably in some act of ‘noble’ self-sacrifice. Heroes seem to be all about that.”
“Nu-uh! He’s going to save all the surviving characters from that underground garage and they’ll be the group left to look over the city just before ending credits!” Bluestreak confidently exclaims his hopeful ending, only for Thundercracker to point to the screen again.
His spark sinks in his chamber as he watches the on-screen Mulholland Dam crack and burst, sending a tidal floor across the damaged city.
The wife of the main character is swept away.
The main character jumps in after her.
Bluestreak slowly slides a glare over to the (absolutely gleeful) seeker sitting next to him.
“You’ve seen this before, haven’t you?”
“Nope.”
“Then how did you know-?!” Before Bluestreak can finish his question and subsequently launch into a rambling monologue, Thundercracker holds up a servo, his expression suddenly stern. Curious, Bluestreak tilts his helm.
“I was never here, Autobot.” Sensing the abrupt change in dynamic - no longer watching a movie and instead moving to stand - Bluestreak grabs his gun, disengages the safety, and scrambles to stand equally as tall, holding his blaster point-blank with Thundercracker’s faceplates.
“I can’t let you leave. It was really nice having someone to talk to during a movie, but that wasn’t what I should have done, and I need to correct that mistake. You’re not just another mech to casually make conversation with, you’re a Decepticon. You know I’m going to have to take you into custody, right?” Tense, Bluestreak is ready for Thundercracker to try and take off, or fight him.
Yet, the jet only cracks a patronising grin.
“You know we just watched a movie about an Earthquake, right?”
“... Yes? What does that have to with this? Unless the San Andreas fault slips right this astrosecond, you’re not getting away.”
“Oh, but naive little Autobot, this was discussed in the film. Earthquakes are caused by tremors.” No sooner has Thundercracker said this than he digs his thrusters into the soft soil beneath them, and unleashes his outlier.
A sonic boom resonates through the ground, pulsing and shaking like the waves from an earthquake epicenter, making the ground shudder and sway. Screams from down below echo into the late evening, people panicking at the ‘earthquake’ that seems to be happening almost prophetically, as if watching the 1974 movie had brought it into existence.
Bluestreak is thrown backwards by the force of the tremors, stumbling into a nearby tree. He steadies himself on it, but by that point, in the commotion of the synthetic earthquake and darkness of the the short-circuited lanterns and fallen canvas screen, Thundercracker has taken to the skies.
Bluestreak spots him immediately. His blue plating might help him blend into the sky, but it’s more suited for camouflage on the bluest of sunny days - not a cloudy evening.
He aims with his blaster.
Lines up a shot…
And doesn’t fire.
He can’t bring himself to shoot. With his enhanced optics, he easily makes out Thundercracker give him a nod, as if thankful, or saying goodbye, with a smile that… Doesn’t seem as dangerous as it should be.
It’s not a manic grin like Skywarp’s before he vop’s on the battlefield. It’s not a threatening smirk like Starscream’s before he unveils a weapon.
No. It’s… Friendly? Appreciative?
It’s more like the smile Ratchet gives the twins behind their backs as he dismisses them from medbay, or the smile Prowl gives him when they have their brotherly bonding moments.
It’s the kind of smile he sees frequently in the Autobots.
Maybe that’s what convinces him to let Thundercracker go.
“I’m going to regret this… At least I think I am. Definitely not reporting it.” Reluctantly, he switches the safety back on his weapon and lowers it, giving Thundercracker the chance to escape.
Escape he does.
He flies off as silently as a seeker can manage - which is surprisingly silent - and doesn’t even stop to cause damage to the humans. It would have been easy. There’s so many of them in such a small clearing with very few easy exits. A Decepticon wouldn’t have hesitated to take out this small percent of population, especially with two Autobots here.
But Thundercracker hadn’t.
“Bluestreak!!!” Jolting out of his thoughts, Bluestreak steps out of the forest and waves at Bumblebee, running towards him in a frantic flurry.
“It’s okay! I’m okay! A little shaken, but it’s an earthquake, so, y’know, kinda expected that! Are Spike and Carly okay? What about everyone else? Was anyone hurt?” Bumblebee vents a huff, relaxing when he realises Bluestreak is 100% okay.
“Everyone is good, though some are a little freaked out thanks to the timing. Thankfully it was just a small one!”
“Mhmm.” Bumblebee notices the distinct lack of words and how distracted Bluestreak seems, slightly rising one optical ridge. With another vent, he reaches out and knocks his knuckles against Bluestreak’s bumper affectionately.
“C’mon, Blue. Let’s get Spike ‘n’ Carly home, then we can go home too.” Immediately, Bluestreak perks back up.
“Sure!!! I can’t wait to tell everyone all about it! Sideswipe wanted to know if it was good an action movie as the reviews, and Hound was really interested in the geological insights, and I’m pretty sure it was Jazz who asked me about the soundtrack, but it could also have been Blaster- Ooh! And Perceptor wanted to hear about preventative measures, though I’m not sure there’s any preventative measures for an earthquake at all.”
“In that case, we’d better get back loooong before curfew~!” Bumblebee’s tease makes Bluestreak laugh, the taller mech grabbing his friends wrist and tugging him back down towards their human friends.
Just before they transform to leave, he casts one last, pensive look towards the dusk sky.
He wouldn’t mind coming here again.