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Things had been left hanging after Drift and Arcee's last real conversation. The timing had just been...bad. She's glad Drift had come clean at all, but it had stung, that he'd lied to her twice. Arcee had put it out of her mind best she could to deal with the rescue, with the ensuing brawl, but there had been no denying it'd hurt. It had hurt the first time, but the second time was a hell of a lot worse. It's not as though she and Drift haven't had a rocky history together -- it's not as though she's forgotten about Deadlock, about Freewheel -- but they've been solid for millennia now. He's always had her back. For him to let her down like that, when she'd really needed him on her side -- she couldn't just brush that off.

Arcee wants to believe that he's got her back. That she can trust him to do the right thing. She always has, before, and she wants to, more than anything. But it's hard, when things were so unresolved. She'd resolved to deal with it later, but then Optimus had been back, and she'd been dealing with so much -- Rodimus and Ultra Magnus and Starscream, and her own muddled feelings -- it's been easy to avoid really talking about it with Drift lately, but she's been avoiding it for long enough. Things aren't going to get any easier, not if she doesn't talk to him, and she wants to be able to trust her best friend again.

"Hey." Arcee finds him in the new base while everything's still being organized, being set up. It's in an out of the way room, private enough for a personal conversation. At least Arcee's never known Drift to really dodge these moments. "You got a minute?"

It feels like it’s been a long time since he and Arcee have actually properly talked at all. She’s never been far away or out of reach since they’d returned with Rodimus and Optimus…but there’s always an obvious distance all the same. Drift knows that neither of them have been actively avoiding each other, although there’s never a short supply of convenient excuses to keep them from speaking either.

He’s been careful to give Arcee space, too – not wanting to force her into talking if she’s not ready or willing to. But even that reason’s been starting to feel like an excuse to him. If things continued to carry on as they have been, Drift knows he’ll have to at least try something different.

There’s a somewhat faraway look on his face before Arcee’s words startle him out of his thoughts. He tenses, but only minimally as he turns towards her and nods. “Sure. More than a minute even - as many as you want.”

Under ordinary circumstances, the little bit of levity in Drift's comment might have eased up the mood. But this is already hard enough. A ghost of a smile flashes across Arcee's face and then it's gone, her face looking weary and a little resigned. She heaves out a rush of air through her vents, figuring the best way to have this conversation is...not to drag it out too much.

"I don't want to fight about what happened, Drift," Arcee says, rubbing at her forehelm. She turns her optics on his face, a little dim but still brilliant blue; there's a trace of hurt in there, still, but the hope's not all gone. She wants to fix this. "What's done is done, and I think you and Rodimus both understand the consequences of what you did. I just want to know why."

Her voice isn't hard, edged like it had been in that last conversation they'd had, before the big fight. Before Optimus had come back. Now it's just -- entreating. A genuine request for -- something. Give her something, Drift. Anything.

"Why lock me out like that, Drift? I know you and Rodimus are close, but that -- it wasn't just a minor indiscretion. I get why Rodimus didn't trust me, but -- you?"

The hurt in her optics is worse - much worse than the hard gaze she’d fitted him with during their last talk.

Drift crosses his arms and vents a small puff of air – optics downcast he tries to collect his thoughts. He’s been wondering, this whole time, about what he could say to Arcee once this moment came. But…naturally, there weren’t going to be any easy or obvious answers. The truth is - there was never a point at which Drift consciously felt like he couldn’t trust Arcee…but what else could you call it, really? He’d been positive that Arcee wouldn’t approve of what they were doing, and hadn’t been willing to take that risk.

“I don’t…know if this will make things any better or worse. But I never wanted to lie to you, Arcee. Rodimus…he’s the only one I would’ve done that for.”

Arcee's optics dim, as if in disappointment, but the hurt isn't entirely gone, either. She vents out slowly, shaking her head.

"But you still did," she says heavily, her shoulders sagging. "That's what this is about, Drift -- you did, and I want to know why. Since when does your friendship with Rodimus outrank the priority of the mission for you, Drift? The safety of the team? If you didn't want to lie to me, then why did you? Just to -- what, appease one of Rodimus' whims? You've got field experience. You had to know this was a shoddy plan."

“It’s not like he doesn’t have any experience either.” The words come out more defensively than he’d meant them to, and he winces – pressing a hand against his forehelm.

No one’s actually directly asked him why he’d gone along with Rodimus. Or at least, no one’s asked for any explanation beyond simply accepting that they’re both close. Now that someone is, he finds himself strangely…reluctant to get to the heart of the matter. But he owes Arcee an explanation, and wants to give her one. Right now, he’s just not sure how… and when he tries to speak up again, his throat feels tight.

“I… I did it because it's not just that we're friends. I...rely on him. And I want him to know that he can rely on me too…for whatever he needs.”

Arcee looks more tired than anything, rubbing her fingers along her own forehelm as she vents out a long, slow sigh. "Sometimes what he needs isn't always what he wants, Drift. What happened back there was a bad plan, and you know it was. I get wanting to have Rodimus's back -- I do. But maybe what he needs sometimes is someone to help him find the line."

“I know where you’re coming from, but…what if I had told him no? Or if I’d ratted him out? He still would’ve found some way to leave again. And then he really would have been on his own. I wouldn’t-…I won’t let that happen.”

Drift crosses his arms uncomfortably – getting the feeling that nothing he’s saying is really helping matters much. “I’m not trying to use this as an excuse for lying, it’s just…it’s not a chance I want to take.”

Edited 2014-11-03 17:30 (UTC)

Drift’s been allowed out into the city here and there, but for the most part, it’s just been day after day of menial tasks around base. He never raises a complaint about it, but after a while it starts to get mind-numbingly boring to the point where he’s become a bit anxious. Today he’s stuck at base too…but what’s different about today is that he’s been assigned to help out in the medibay.

Ratchet’s never had any reservations about staying away from him, but it’s impossible for them to avoid each other completely in a camp so small with only a handful of personnel. Somehow though, they’d managed to do it for a while (other than the bare minimum) - ever since the fight with Megatron and Soundwave…and ever since Drift had come clean about his lies.

Dread’s built up in his spark…and this time it’s because he’s not sure what to expect. The only thing he is sure of is that it’ll be worse…worse any of their interactions before.

Drift moves inside the medibay – walking straight towards Ratchet, but keeping a few feet between them. His body’s tense, though not very noticeably, and his voice is quiet. “I’m here to help you out for the rest of the day. Anything I can do?”

Ratchet's optics flick up from the datapad he's reading, his optics flaring briefly in surprise before his mouth sets into a thin, hard line.

"This is Magnus' idea of a punishment, I suppose," he says flatly. "Though I wish he'd consider everyone he was punishing in the process." He jerks his head at a pile of instruments in the corner. "Those need cleaning, if you're so inclined. Otherwise you can 'help' by staying out of my way."

“Isn’t that all I’ve been doing? I don’t want to get in your way.”

Maybe, for both of their sakes, it would be better if he just stayed quiet. He doesn’t have any allusions about the two of them getting along at this point, but he’s surprised at the amount of guilt that Ratchet’s words draw out of him, and not saying anything seems somehow worse.

Drift moves over towards the instruments and picks one up – examining it almost absentmindedly.

"You have a fascinating way of showing it," Ratchet says, sounding nettled, but he doesn't look up from his datapad or otherwise acknowledge Drift's existence, his face carefully blank.

“How exactly? We barely say two words to each other unless I’m already half dead in the medibay. What more can I even do to stay out of your way?”

Drift glances briefly in Ratchet’s direction and a slight, uncomfortable chill passes through him upon seeing the other bot’s expression. He quickly turns his attention back towards the instruments – gathering a tray of them up and moving over towards a sink.

Ratchet goes still, and his voice is icy when he speaks again.

"I don't know," he says, turning slowly to let his optics bore holes in Drift's back. "Leading us all on a wild turbofox chase after Rodimus for weeks while we had no idea whether or not he was dead in a ditch somewhere or injured and unable to comm for help certainly put a crimp in my schedule, now that you mention it."

He whirls back around – circuits buzzing with sudden anger. Ratchet’s gaze isn’t anything less than unnerving, but his own optics sheen unflinchingly as he speaks.

“A ‘crimp in your schedule’? Glad to hear he’s so high on your list of priorities.”

Ratchet sets down his datapad with a quiet click and stands, slowly, his optics sharp on Drift's face.

"You think after everything you helped put this team through--the lying and the secrecy and the sneaking high-grade down to the brig and having the damn phase shifter shoved under your bed this whole time--you think you have the right to stand there and lecture me about priorities?"

Drift grits his teeth – fingers clenching tightly against the sides of the tray. He’d expected Ratchet to be angry, if nothing else – to pick apart everything he’d done and throw it in his face. And he’d been prepared to just take it. But Rachet’s list of talents seemed to include making Drift angry…that and making every one of their conversations as unpleasant as possible.

“If you want to make this about what I did? Fine. But I’m really running low on patience for people who act like they can’t be bothered with my friend.”

Ratchet's lip curls, his voice icy cold.

"Some 'friend' you are, letting him go haring off by himself into the middle of a Decepticon base with no communication and no backup except you, to possibly be captured or killed. Rodimus isn't equipped for espionage, Drift! They all knew he was bogus the second he walked through their damn door, or I'll resign as CMO--it's a miracle he came back in one piece not having been wrung out like a rag for sensitive information, which he has, let alone that they didn't just shoot him on sight. That's what you call being a friend?"

Ratchet's optics narrow. "And what would you have done if he had called you for help? Run off, unassisted, with no intelligence or backup, straight into the middle of a Decepticon base, to let everybody think you'd defected? Do you know, Arcee defended you? She put her own integrity on the line while acting commander of the entire Autobot army on your behalf, and you blew it by lying to her multiple times. She trusted you enough to go toe-to-toe with Ultra Magnus about it, and all she got was you screwing her." He makes a disgusted sound in his throat and turns away again, picking up the datapad and moving to start doing inventory, his back to Drift. He looks over his shoulder, catching Drift's expression with one optic.

"You know, I'm disappointed, but at least I'm used to it from you. I've been taught better. You could go a little easier on the people who are still learning."

If the words sting at all, the last remark nullifies their effects. Drift’s optics blaze back at Ratchet and his voice hardens almost immediately. “Well. I’m sorry that I ‘disappointed’ you. But we both know it doesn’t really matter what I try, does it? Because nothing’s ever going to be good enough for you.”

Without turning his gaze away, Drift slides the tray onto a nearby countertop – his body tensing instinctively as he leans forward in an almost threatening manner.

“You’re acting like everything I did was so cut and dry. I’m not used to having people that I care about like them. I’m not used to having people who care about me. I had the ‘good fortune’ of getting caught in the middle of the only two people who even give a damn about me…and I made my choices.

I’m not going to stand here and try to justify myself to you, or act like I haven’t screwed up at all. I know I screwed up. I hate that I let Arcee down and I hate that I put Rodimus in danger. If Arcee wanted to cut ties with me completely, I wouldn’t blame her. And even if she does, I won’t care about her any less than I do now.

So if you want to ream me out, go ahead…whether you think I’m a disappointment or not doesn’t matter. Because when you get down to it, they’re the ones that I have to face and they’re the ones who get to decide if I’m their friend.”

Everything was starting to look good. Today was going to be good. Things are calming down at the new Autobot base and, more importantly, today’s the day that Rodimus is finally done serving his jail time. It had been, what? Weeks at least since they’d put him in that cell, and he can’t even remember how many had passed. Either way, it’s been a long time coming. Things would finally start getting back to normal. Sure, they wouldn’t be able to leave the base just yet…but it was still leagues better than having Rodimus stuck in that ship any longer. All of this was good. There was…absolutely nothing to be nervous about.

Even though…they...hadn’t really been able to talk since the night Drift had snuck in that damned bottle of engex. He couldn’t remember how or when he’d even left the ship, but he could remember everything else. He sure could remember everything else. But what he didn't know is how much Rodimus remembered.

Right now, Drift’s waiting outside, near the front of the ship like he promised he’d do on the day his friend got released. It hasn’t been long since he’d sat down, but the minutes are already dragging on and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll have to wait. Or how much longer he can wait.

It feels like it's been an eternity since Rodimus has been out of that cell. It has in fact, been four weeks. Four horribly, agonizingly long weeks. Even now he can't decide what was worse, the boredom or the never ending lectures.

As Rodimus steps off the ship, he can't help but smile, suddenly feeling like past fours weeks weren't that bad. If it weren't for the probation, he'd go for a drive right now. Even that's more than a fair trade for being out, though.

When Rodimus notices Drift, he hesitates, unsure of what to say or do. His memories are hazy, but he remembers enough to know that things got...complicated...the last time Drift paid him a real visit. He doesn't know how Drift feels about it...doesn't know if Drift remembers it at all. That uncertainty swirls around in his mind for a moment before he pushes it aside for time being and steps over to his friend.

"Well, look who's here to here to help celebrate my freedom," Rodimus says casually, grinning broadly.

“There you are! I was starting to worry that Ultra Magnus might’ve found some weird technicality to make you stay longer.”

Drift returns the grin – getting to his feet as Rodimus approaches. It’s an instant relief to see that everything still seems natural between them right off the bat, and he almost feels silly for expecting anything else. But even so, the anxiousness is still there and impossible to ignore completely.

“So we’re celebrating, huh? Well you’re the one who’s fresh out of jail, so…have anything special in mind?”

"I'm guessing that means you didn't plan my party?" asks Rodimus teasingly. Without so much as waiting for a response he steps forward and pulls Drift toward him for a brief - very brief - hug. Don't want to make things weird. He immediately segue-ways into answering the question in earnest.

"I'd love to go for a drive, really, but..." He shrugs. They both know that's out of the question. "Other than that I...er...I dunno. It's just good to be out."

Drift returns the hug, but if anything, it feels weirder because it’s brief, and he can’t help but look a little startled when Rodimus pulls away so abruptly. He shrugs it off quickly though, and diverts his attention back to the conversation.

“I’m sure we’ll be out on the roads again before you know it. In the meantime…well, at least the new base is bigger than that cell."

"Right! The new base!" Rodimus had nearly forgotten. At least that will be something to do while they're under probation. "Have you gotten to take a look around yet? Is it big? Is it cool? Tell me about it! Wait, no, don't tell me about it...I want to find out myself."

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen much of it. Want to go take a look, then? Maybe we can scope out the rooms.”

They’d moved to the new base in such a rush, so there hadn’t been much time to do any exploring yet. But Drift’s been looking forward to having more of a 'proper' place to settle in for while they’re on earth. And getting to pick out rooms was a plus.

"Alright, yes, let's do that! This place has got to have something interesting to see!" He nudges Drift playfully as he moves past him. "And you're gonna have to fill me in on anything that I've missed since we haven't had much of a chance to...talk. Like what the deal with this 'CONDOR' thing is...Magnus mentioned it a couple of times but I still don't - I mean...I wasn't really listening."

Well. Not like that’s anything new.

“It’s, ah-…hmm…it’s kind of like… hold on a sec, I can’t remember - were you with me when I watched Men in Black?”

"Eh? 'Men in black'? I - I don't think so..." Rodimus trails off, looking thoughtful, but drawing a total blank.

“Huh…really? I was pretty sure you were with me…Well, anyway. I guess CONDOR’s kinda like…like an organization that’s supposed to deal with other species that come to the planet. They mostly want to make sure we’re not here to. You know. Try and takeover.”

He shrugs, glancing around as they start walking deeper into the base. “It’s a bit more involved, but Ultra Magnus is handling most of...all of our dealings with them.”

Rodimus makes a face, his distrust evident.

"I don't know, still feels strange being this...exposed. It's not like we've had the best experiences with organic organizations in the past either." Rodimus shrugs. "I s'pose as long as Magnus is the one handling it all it's not gonna effect us too much. What about you...do you trust them?"

Edited 2014-12-23 04:09 (UTC)

“Me?” Drift sounds surprised, like he hadn’t really considered it all that much until now.

“Well…it’s hard to say. The members we’ve met seem nice enough. I think I could trust them at least.” He pauses and glances around at the rock walls surrounding them. “Still not sure how I feel about being herded into a new base, though.”

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OH BOY

HERE WE GO

MMMHMMM

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For Ratchet

JUST FOUND THIS AGAIN...

SORRY, I ACTUALLY FORGOT TO RESEND YOU THE LINK THE OTHER DAY

NO WORRIES

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For Rodimus

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