Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the original concept. This little monkey of a plot though. Mine.

Author's Note: I was getting my legs waxed and this came to me. It's changed a bit since then and I'm not too sure about bits of it. But, still. Enjoy.

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Sunstreaker followed his brother into the rec. room. He didn't understand why Sideswipe insisted on coming in here. They could just collect their energon and leave. But, no Sideswipe said they had to enjoy the atmosphere. What fragging atmosphere? There were currently six autobots on earth including the two of them and those horrid little organics were always hanging around.

One was here now. Sunstreaker ignored it which was easily done. He sat down as far away as possible which was also quite easy. It was on the floor near the human furniture several metres from the mech furniture. It hadn't said anything to them either. If Primus was merciful it would stay silent.

Sideswipe sat down pushing an energon cube towards him. "Drink up, Sunshine. It's a beautiful day."

Sunstreaker glared at him. He often wondered what he had done to deserve his brother. He hoped it was worth it. He stared moodily at his energon. Even the energon didn't taste as good here. He hated this planet. He hated the dust, dirt and grime. The atmosphere. The plant life. The animal life. The weather. The natives. There wasn't a single good thing he could say.

"Mikaela! How's it going?"

Sunstreaker stiffened. He was not... He could not... He was. He was striking a conversation with the organic. He debated banging his head off the table. It might make him feel better. It might mar his finish. Why? Why, Primus? Why did he give him a brother?

"Not bad. You?" The organic sounded preoccupied.

"Great!" He was always happy. Well, not always. But he always sounded happy. He did it to annoy him. He was sure of it.

"Good, good. Sunstreaker, how about you?" Like it cared.

He grunted noncommittally and hoped it would drop it. It did. Sideswipe didn't.

"What are you doing?"

"Waxing my legs." Against his will, Sunstreaker's head turned. It was like a cable dragging him round. She had said the magic word. Wax.

"I didn't know humans used wax." Sideswipe's curiosity was aroused. "You're not doing it the same as us. Is it a special technique."

"Huh?" The organic looked up from the pink goo spread over its legs. Why was it pink? "Oh, no. Not that sort of waxing. Women use it to get rid of unwanted body hair."

Sunstreaker froze. It removed their finish. Primus, he'd waxed himself every day since they'd arrived. How long did it take to work? How long did he have?

"Why wouldn't you want your body hair?" Sideswipe was entirely too calm. Didn't he realise the danger? His paintjob could be vanishing as they spoke. He didn't even hear the organic's reply. All he felt was overwhelming horror.

"Raaaaaatcheeeeeeeeeeeet!"

Mikaela watched, jaw on the floor, as Sunstreaker leapt to his feet overturning table, chairs and Sideswipe. He fled from the room, howling at the top of his whatever transformers had in place of lungs. She turned blinking eyes to the spluttering Sideswipe crawling out from under the table, dripping energon. She opened her mouth, caught sight of his expression and wisely closed it.

Ratchet was having a nice, quiet day. He'd spent all morning polishing his medbay. It was clean, it was tidy, it was his. He sat down in his chair with a quiet sigh of satisfaction.

"Raaaatchet!" Sunstreaker burst through the door looking absolutely distraught. He leapt to his feet, all he could think of was Sideswipe. Something terrible had happened to Sideswipe. He pulled the drawers out so fast they came off their runners. Medical tools scattering everywhere. He grabbed fistfuls, all the time pummelling Sunstreaker with questions. "Where was he? How bad? How long ago?"

Sunstreaker didn't seem to notice. "Ratchet! The Humans!" The humans? The humans had damaged Sideswipe?

"The Humans!" Voice filled with dread. "Their Wax! It melts paintjobs!" What.. in the name of Primus?

"It melts paintjobs, Ratchet. I've used it every day!" He sounded utterly miserable as he turned around presenting Ratchet with his back. "You'll tell me won't you? The other's have been laughing at me, I know it. How much is gone?"

Ratchet stood in incredulous disbelief. Fists full of tools. Medical paraphernalia all over the floor, some crushed underfoot. This was over his paintjob!

"You slagging glitch! You vain, insufferable, micro processor pile of scrap! You come in here screaming. Make me drop all my tools." Sunstreaker who had been rather taken aback now stared with the intensity of a dying mech at the scattered, smashed tools. "Think someone is dying..."

Sunstreaker wasn't listening anymore. His paintjob was forgotten. All his processor was taken up with a single thought. He had made Ratchet smash his tools. Someone would be dying alright. Him. He shot Ratchet one terrified look and ran for it. He reached the door as the first wrench hit his head and stumbled but did not fall.

Sector Seven wound up having quite a busy day. Three people phoned the police claiming to have seen giant robots running through the deserts. Their stories matched perfectly. They had both been yellow. One had been dayglow yellow. That one was chasing the other one. There had been much arm waving and strange electronic wails. One witness who was a UFO enthusiast suspected it was some sort of mating ritual. It took an unspeakable amount of money to get him to shut up. Not to stop him from going to the press. Just to generally shut up.

There was eventually a small piece published in an unknown science magazine about the sighting. Sam paraded it around the base until Sideswipe blew it up and plastered the walls with it. He also sent it out with Prime's message to any autobot's out there. It was boring. Space. He said. It would encourage them to come faster. He said.

Sunstreaker pondered the meaning of existence and whether or not Prime would notice if Sideswipe suddenly disappeared. He never spoke to Mikaela again.