It'd been a long time coming, this. Not this holiday, Christmas, but Wing's plans for it. The timing had ended up perfect though, moreso than if he'd planned it that way. He'd have to come up with a separate way to thank Jetfire for his help. But for now, he has a freshly reconfigured alt mode with a true cockpit to share.

He felt...fantastic. Beyond the expected, really. The modification and its potential is exciting enough, but the byproduct of getting rid of his old cargo compartment from his courier days is an unforeseen boon, excising the last physical vestiage of bitter memories from his early life on Cybertron. The dead, hollow space now turned into a place of comfort and safety for him smaller companions.

It's made him giddy and he's ready to rub it off on someone. Well, multiple someones. Starting here.

Wing strides into medbay with an easy bounce in his step. He's practically gleaming, but it's hard to say if it's his armor, the golden optics or that incandescent smile that's really to blame. He's empty handed, which is awfully curious since he said he'd had something for Vandal.

"Merry Christmas," he says as he approaches the berth. "At least I think that's the proper greeting?"