Red Alert glanced around warily. It was late, so not many Autobots were up. All the better. He didn't want anyone asking too many questions. His arms laden with cleaning products, he slipped into the large room that held the Autobots' wash racks...
...and abruptly came to a halt, a startled yelp escaping him as he came face-to-face with an equally surprised Sunstreaker.
"What are you doing here?!" the smaller mech squeaked. "You don't normally come to the wash racks at this time of night!"
Sunstreaker, nowhere near as jumpy or nervous as the mech in front of him merely raised one optic ridge, and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not going to ask how you know my 'daily routine'... but as for the first question, my idiot brother decided it would be funny to put a fresh coat of paint on my berth."
Red Alert opened his mouth, about to ask just what Sunstreaker did in retaliation for that 'prank', but didn't get far. The gold-and-ebony Lambo, well used to the other's 'eccentricities', and how to cut any accusations or speeches off, dropped his gaze to what Red Alert was holding, then peered back up at the mech. "What's all this for? Wax, polish..." Sunstreaker then smirked, his shoulders shaking faintly with a silent chuckle. "Going out on a date, are we?"
The security chief's faceplate nearly matched his helm, taking an unconcious step back. "Wh-wha...? Where did you get that idea? I'm doing nothing of the sort!" he protested anxiously.
Letting out a little snort, Sunstreaker pointed to the items Red still had cradled in his arms. "Because I've NEVER seen you interested in your appearance before. You're not coming in here just for a simple wash. And what's got you in such a knot, anyway? It's not like it's some big secret..."
If he could have, Red would have blanched. "I- it's not?"
Sunstreaker sighed. "Primus... given your sensors and all, you sure are oblivious at times. Ah well. Come on. Since I'm here and all I'll be generous and give you a few pointers. There's no way you could ever match my looks, of course… but we can get you looking decent enough. You're embarrassing enough as it is, being a Lambo, without you messing up in cleaning up, too."
Red Alert just blinked, not sure he heard, or even understood what the other Lamborghini had said just then. "I... beg your pardon… what…?"
The yellow warrior leaned in closer to the security director, optics narrowing. "I'm only offering this ONCE. Don't make me repeat myself." He then stood back, scoffing faintly. "You probably don't even know how to apply wax correctly."
Red Alert blinked. "Um… 'wax on, wax off', right?" he offered meekly.
If he were human, Sunstreaker would have rolled his eyes just then. With a small shake of his head, he placed one hand on Red's back and shoved the white-and-red Lambo towards the autowashers. "You owe me big for this one..."
Bath Time Red Alert
...and abruptly came to a halt, a startled yelp escaping him as he came face-to-face with an equally surprised Sunstreaker.
"What are you doing here?!" the smaller mech squeaked. "You don't normally come to the wash racks at this time of night!"
Sunstreaker, nowhere near as jumpy or nervous as the mech in front of him merely raised one optic ridge, and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not going to ask how you know my 'daily routine'... but as for the first question, my idiot brother decided it would be funny to put a fresh coat of paint on my berth."
Red Alert opened his mouth, about to ask just what Sunstreaker did in retaliation for that 'prank', but didn't get far. The gold-and-ebony Lambo, well used to the other's 'eccentricities', and how to cut any accusations or speeches off, dropped his gaze to what Red Alert was holding, then peered back up at the mech. "What's all this for? Wax, polish..." Sunstreaker then smirked, his shoulders shaking faintly with a silent chuckle. "Going out on a date, are we?"
The security chief's faceplate nearly matched his helm, taking an unconcious step back. "Wh-wha...? Where did you get that idea? I'm doing nothing of the sort!" he protested anxiously.
Letting out a little snort, Sunstreaker pointed to the items Red still had cradled in his arms. "Because I've NEVER seen you interested in your appearance before. You're not coming in here just for a simple wash. And what's got you in such a knot, anyway? It's not like it's some big secret..."
If he could have, Red would have blanched. "I- it's not?"
Sunstreaker sighed. "Primus... given your sensors and all, you sure are oblivious at times. Ah well. Come on. Since I'm here and all I'll be generous and give you a few pointers. There's no way you could ever match my looks, of course… but we can get you looking decent enough. You're embarrassing enough as it is, being a Lambo, without you messing up in cleaning up, too."
Red Alert just blinked, not sure he heard, or even understood what the other Lamborghini had said just then. "I... beg your pardon… what…?"
The yellow warrior leaned in closer to the security director, optics narrowing. "I'm only offering this ONCE. Don't make me repeat myself." He then stood back, scoffing faintly. "You probably don't even know how to apply wax correctly."
Red Alert blinked. "Um… 'wax on, wax off', right?" he offered meekly.
If he were human, Sunstreaker would have rolled his eyes just then. With a small shake of his head, he placed one hand on Red's back and shoved the white-and-red Lambo towards the autowashers. "You owe me big for this one..."