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Who: Drift, Vandal and Wing
What: An evening drive
When: After this
Warnings fluffier than a blowdried sheep

Drift was worried about Vandal. He figured anyone seeing that post would worry. She looked different. Tense, like under stress. And he couldn't do much: he wasn't First Aid. He wasn't Rung. He couldn't do anything to help her...except this.

He rolled up outside her trailer. The last time he'd been here had been back then, when he could fit inside the trailer. It felt strange to see it again from the 'right' perspective, feeling less weak and powerless. She'd been so strong for him back then, even facing Wing, she'd been stronger and smarter than he was. He wished she could see that, could see herself the way he did.

He stays in his alt mode, giving a fast little honk. "Ready?" He was determined to make tonight go well, to keep that smile on her face.

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"Yes. And the optimism." Drift tries, but he knows he's just the imitation. "I'm glad you had a good time." She deserves it. He was worried about any fallout from Wing's change; he's so glad it's unfounded.

"Oh?" Drift: fishing for information with infinite subtlety.

"That too." She could always use more of that. She tries, but it's harder and harder these days.

"Hahah, mostly that we agree you don't give yourself enough credit."

"Figures." Too much to ask for Wing to be giddy with Drift's sexual prowess or something, right? "Well, to make up for it, we should talk about Wing now."

"We do that anyways you know." Often it's one of them asking for advice on the other.

They're about halfway around the temple now, and she's feeling pretty relaxed.

"But we can talk about how cute you guys are, anyways."

"...true." But that's not as much fun as gossip. "Did you get him drunk?" He can hope for a juicy story.

"Vandal. I'm not 'cute'." Wing, however? Another story. He likes this, these friendly, teasing conversations. He's never had this and it feels...like something he missed out on.

"Sure did!" She grins, "But you know. They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas or something. I saw that in a movie."

They didn't talk about anything very serious, but she likes watching Drift try to squeeze it out of her.

"Oh I thought we went over this. Yes, yes you are. You're a big pointy bunny. Ever heard the song 'Little Bunny Foo Foo?' That song is about you."

"I didn't know they said that. But this isn't Vegas." He will counter with logic.

"Vandal. I'm not little." He'll argue that point, at least.

"Haha, okay okay. Well, From what I remember, he did thank me for playing wingman for him. Helping you two get together."

Because she did. She worked very hard at it actually.

"And he said that you told him you loved him. Good job on that, by the way." She grins.

"It's how the song goes. Little bunny Drift... uh. Boo. Drift-boo, hoppin through the cyberforest, scoopin' up Decepticons and boppin' 'em on the head!"

Not bad for off the cuff!

"Is that what you call it? It seemed like nagging to me." His engines rev in a laugh. He'd needed it.

"I...uh yeah. Before I left." A sheepish smile: it had taken an entirely different kind of courage than he usually had to do it.

"I don't think that's how the song really goes." He hopes not, at any rate.

"Hey now! Be grateful!" She sasses back at him, grinning wide.

"That's good. I'm glad for you." There's still a pang there of wishing she could hear it. A weird mix of wanting, being being happy that they're happy together. Maybe that's what love is. Or something. Giving something up for a greater good.

She closes her eyes.

"Yeah but I like that version better."

"I am." That slightly too serious tone again. Vandal had certainly more than helped: that wasn't a joke.

"I want you to be glad for you, too, though." Speaking of.... "We could always go across some of Vector's bridges, maybe up to my quarters or something." See how subtly he was floating that? He should change his name to Smooth.

"Good. Herding cats would have been an easier task than getting you two to talk about your feelings." She's joking of course, as always.

"I am. I have a lot of great friends." She says that a bit too quickly. Still being grateful for what you have-

"Okay, sounds good." Easy enough, she's relaxed into his seat by now and she really doesn't care where they go at this point.

He will presume they are hard to herd and that herding cats is a thing. "I was the problem. Wing is always ready to talk about his feelings." A little too much for Drift's comfort, but he has a battle plan, now. It's called 'Kissing Wing Shuts Him Up' Thus far, success.

"You do. Me. Wing. Perceptor....probably others." He doesn't want you to feel like he stalks you or anything.

"Good. Because you don't seem tired just yet and I...don't really just want to drop you back at your trailer." Alone. No,he definitely doesn't want that.

"There you go again, being too hard on yourself," She says, tapping her fingers against the dash in admonishment.

"Yeah. Never had so many friends before. And they're all fucking awesome Cybertronians, too." Notice she didn't use the 'R' word? She's working on being more PC. They aren't robots. They're living beings who think and feel.

"Yeah, I'm still good for a few more hours. You wanna have a few drinks? Maybe listen to some music or whatever? I could pick out a movie you haven't see. I think you'd dig The Last Samurai. Just a hunch."

"Just realistic," Drift says. His tires sweep easily around a curve, onto the first bridge into Vector's palace proper. The place wasn't really designed for non-flyers, and sometimes he thinks it's a matter of time before he's asked to leave, but for right now he's determined to enjoy what he has. It's only fair if that's the advice he has for Vandal that he do the same thing.

"You deserve friends, Vandal." Statement of fact.

"We could do that.I don't have any of your human alcohol, though, so...any ideas?" Maybe she'd suggest Wing. Who knew? "I'd like anything if you wanted to do it, Vandal."

"Just a dork," Vandal corrects, peering out the window as they near the temple.

She smiles settling back down for the rest of the ride. There's something incredibly comforting in sitting here while he drives. Being in motion. The hum of machinery, and knowing that machinery has your back.

"Oh don't worry. I always bring a little something." Probably not... healthy.

"We'll figure something you, you big pushover."

"If you say so; you're the expert." He's not even sure what that is supposed to mean, but it sounds--he hopes--playful enough.

He doesn't take the fastest way to his quarters: that would be way too obvious. Plus, it's nice out and though he's driving slowly enough, it's still fun to move through the labyrinth of bridges.

Also, it was buying Wing time.

Well, that settles that, then. he thinks, as he finally sweeps into the hallways of Vector's place. Next stop, his room.

"Darn right I am." She has no idea but she just goes with it because that's just how they talk. It's meandering and there's not always a point but it's good anyways because it's just them.

She wonders briefly, as they head down the hall, if it's rude to drive inside? Like not taking your shoes off or something? The thought entertains her until they arrive.

When Drift had come to him with this idea he'd been immediately sold. There wasn't a whole lot of time to pull it all together, but it was just enough. It's lucky that in recent weeks Wing had spent a lot of time scavenging alcohol in the Junk Pile for the bar, because that meant he came across a number of other nice things in the process.

He'd stumbled across what looked like the contents of someone's linen chest, (apparently this was a place humans stashed their booze?) and found a blanket that he could only call relentlessly fluffy: no matter what he'd done to it, it just poofed right back up again. It'd been airing out on his balcony for a week, and they'd both decided it'd make a great gift for Vandal. He'd wrapped it and an equally fluffy pillow (the only one in decent condition) in another sheet of remarkably festive fabric and tied the corners in a knot.

He'd also raided the food stores at the Hub and grabbed three cans of peaches at Drift's direction--Wing had contributed enough he had no guilt in taking his pick at this point. He also grabbed a few refreshments--not a lot--but enough to be sociable with. All of this was spread over the table, and from his own room he brought his own stool and a small crate for Vandal to sit on.

Wing intended to stay the night, so his Great Sword had already found a home against one wall. It struck him as nice: that the sword was starting to have a 'usual' place when he was here. It makes him smile as he sits in quiet anticipation, listening for sounds out in the hall.

For all Drift knows, it could be rude to drive inside, but no one's stopped him yet. Then again that may be a reflection on the way he drove.

"All right," Drift said, slowing outside his door, as the door itself opened to his ping, "We've arrived." He could tell, even from the first glimpse of the room, that Wing was there, and succeeded in his plans. Because that bundle of flowery fabric? NOT HIS. Just, you know, for the record.

He's not sure of the etiquette here: normally he transforms before entering his quarters. It's up to her.

Vandal is happy enough to hop out and pat Drift on the hood, signal that he's safe to transform without mashing her up inside.

She goes on ahead and scampers inside, peering around. Something is different. It looks like they're having a party or something. Though she can't see much from where she stands.

She isn't entirely surprised to see Wing, but his presence is an extra treat. She grins up at him.

"Hey there, Tweety."

Wing stands to greet her with a smile, giving a small bow. "Evening Karrie. A pleasure as always."

He loves being formal with her. It's kinda of a game by now, because it often gets her kind of flustered--which is really cute--and it's a fun juxtaposition to her usually loose and bawdy mannerisms.

Drift transforms, offering a shy grin at Wing. Wing was so much better at these things. He'd never have managed half of this himself, so his smile is one of gratitude as it is pleasure.

"Huh," Drift says, trying to sound disappointed. "Guess we can't talk about Wing behind his back anymore."

"Pfffffffffff okay, Sir Wing." Yep. Right on queue. She sort of sucks her head a little, chuckling before Drift pipes up.

"Yeah I guess not, huh?" She shoots them both a teasing look.

"Okay, come on you guys. Spill- what's this all about?" She feels like she's missing something here.

Well, 'Sir Wing' does sound kind of nice he has to admit.

He can't hide the curious flick of his pinions at Drift's comment. He's about to don a sly smile when he realizes how much Vandal knows, and his expression turns to a silent plea, What did you tell him?. Granted, he'd given her leave to do so, to Drift only, but he wasn't expecting it so soon. He's a little...unprepared.

Wing coughs to clear an intake, then grins at Vandal's keen observation. He looks up at Drift. "We're caught apparently. I suppose we should just get right to it." The glance he directs to the bundle tells Drift all the other mech needs to know: 'It was your idea, I set the stage for you, it's your turn to wow her.'

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Shall we poke Wing-mun? Wing can tag in after Vandal and before Drift or after Drift or whatever

Sure he can tag in after Van!

/slams down wall of text like a boss. Brevity? What is THAT!? BT

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