After that mishap had been done and over with, Orion and Ariel were soon the topic of gossip between their workplaces for the next few millennia.

"Have you seen the way he looks at her?"

"Ariel's practically swooning, I tell you!"

"Never thought I'd see the mech rope a lil' femme like that-"

"The lucky 'bots-"

"It's so cute!"

"Heck, I'm wondering if they are even getting it on if you know what I mean-"

"Do you think they'll be spark-mates someday?"

Those were just a few snippets of what the two cyber-love birds heard on a day to day basis lately.

"Ugh, though I wish they'd shut up about it!" Ariel groans in annoyance one night in Orion's apartment. "It's getting monotonous if you ask me." Orion can only laugh at that as he was making some energon.

The apartment was small by Cybertronian standard. It was an apartment in downtown Iacon, on the third floor of a Cybertronian four-floor complex. The place was made up of one main room, a small kitchen area, a simple wash rack, and a fairly average sitting room/living room.

When Ariel first was invited over to the place, she was rather shocked by how sparsely furnished it was. Other than the basic necessities, the place only had a few holo-pics here and was downright organized.

The walls were a bit too bare by the editor's opinion. Soon enough, Ariel went about and added a feminine touch to the place, adding some holo-pics and some random pieces of several local artists'-who were also her friends-pieces to the walls. Most were landscape pieces, drawn or stunning holo-scans of different places of Cybertron. To name one, it was of the Great Crystals Trees if Praxus. The beautiful groves of the crystal trees were said to be as old as Cybertron itself, all in a variety of shades, ranging from the basic white, silver, and gray to the brightest colors anyone can imagine.

"Well, I think it's rather the fact that they need something to talk about," the archivist chuckles, shaking his helm.

"I think they're just bored sometimes." Orion turns to the oven, tapping his digits on the countertop.

Now if they'd just bake themselves . . . he muses to himself.

The mech pauses drumming his fingers when Ariel is suddenly behind him, her arms wrapped around his middle. Orion twists his helm around to smile fondly at Ariel as the femme has a sly grin on her faceplates.

"Ariel what . . .?" Orion asks, simply, his voice slightly confused yet curious. He manages to twist around in his femme-friend's hold on him.

Quickly, Ariel wraps her arms behind Orion's shoulders the best she could. On the very tip of her pedes, Ariel shuttered her optics as she kisses Orion. The librarian's optic ridges shoot up in astonishment, making Ariel pull back and laugh warmly.

"What brought that on?" the archivist asks quizzically, though his spark was doing twenty flip-flops per nano in his chest-plates. It wasn't like they never had kissed before; they commonly held servos or had an arm wrapped around the other. Adding to that, it was just that they didn't kiss each other it often. That in turn made his whole self feel very tingly and that he was floating above the floor.

Ariel smiles happily as she nuzzles the side of Orion's face, sighing in content as he wraps his arms around her. Orion leans towards her again, his optics halved. He just wanted the feeling to return again . . .

BANG-BONG-BONG!

The pair jump as they stare at the origin of the sound. It was from the door, and to Ariel, why did Orion seem somewhat worried?

"Orion Pax? You in there?!" a very gruff voice shouts through the door. Ariel's optics ridge quirks up at that. That voice . . . why did it sound so familiar?

"Orion! It's me!" came the voice again from the other side of the door.

"Yes, I know it's you Megatron . . ." Orion sighs in resignation, sending an apologetic look to Ariel. The pink femme's optics widen at that.

"Megatronous, the Gladiator?" Ariel mouths to the mech in front of her. Orion cringes. He turns to her, and his optics pleaded to her to stay out of sight, and to please be understanding.

Ariel nods in affirmation and quickly scurries to Orion's room, closing the door behind her.

The editor's helm was full of questions and memories of what had been happening for the past few orbital cycles. Orion Pax and Megatronous, or rather Megatron now, were collaborating lately on how to help Cybertronian be rid of corruption from the higher levels of society.

Ariel hadn't had the pleasure in meeting the silver gladiator, and she didn't really want to. From the word of the news and from the street, Megatronous was a relatively new gladiator in the Pits of Kaon, yet became famous by not losing any of his battles. After each victory, the silver mech preached that he wanted change in Cybertron, a new era of a just planet.

Soon enough, the large mech had a rapid group of followers.

Ariel had seen how Orion and Megatron corresponded a lot, almost as much as Pax and she communicated to one another over the stellar cycles. The femme almost forgot that the two of them would go to the High Council and plead their case tomorrow. Lately, Ariel prayed constantly that nothing would go dour.

Voices came from outside the door, and being curious, Ariel presses her audio receptor on the door.

"Is this a bad time Orion?" Megatron asks. The sounds of large pedes meandering through the apartment were apparent. "I can see the expression on your face, and don't you dare lie to me; you're one of the worst liars this side of the planet."

Well that's true, Ariel thought for a moment. Orion was a horrible liar, whether or not he was conscious of it. She then returns her concentration onto the red and blue mech's voice.

"Well, I had some company earlier Megatron, but they had to leave," the archivist says simply, though . . . was it Ariel's imagination or did Orion sound nervous?

"There's a femme's touch throughout the whole place; have you been courting someone as of late?"

"Megatron-"

"Answer me Orion," the gladiator presses.

"I'll answer your question if you'll answer mine," Orion deadpans.

"Alright then, shoot."

"How did you find my living quarters? I never told you before where I was situated, other than in Iacon." That worries Ariel then. How did the Kaonian find Orion Pax's apartment, all the way in Iacon?

"I have my . . . resources."

"Megatronous-"

"Now, now, let's not dwell on the details, shall we?" Megatron quickly changes the subject. The sound of them sitting on the couch is audible through the door, making Ariel twitch a bit in agitation.

"Anyways, I'm here on business Orion."

"It's about, tomorrow, isn't it?" the archivist asks.

"Yes . . . are you prepared for tomorrow?" Megatron asks, and his voice sounds a bit too eager for it.

"Yes," Orion Pax says straight out. "I'm not going to back out if that's what you're thinking."

"Knowing you Orion Pax, I know you wouldn't dream of it," the gladiator retorts openly.

"Now for my other question-"

"Megatronous, we have a big solar cycle tomorrow, and I have to practice my plea to the High Council," Orion murmurs to him. The sound of someone getting up is evident. A pair of pedes head toward the door then.

"I understand, so long Orion," Megatronous says cheerfully, a bit too cheerfully, and then the sound of a door being closed is heard.

Ariel carefully peeks out from the room, seeing Orion sigh and shake his helm.

"Orion," she asks, stepping out to him. "Are you-?"

"I'm alright sweet-spark," Pax replies, shuttering his optics for a moment. The femme walks over to him and grasps his larger servos in her own.

Orion opens his cerulean optics to look at the femme's bright blue orbs, the very ones he fell in love with.

"Do you want me to leave? I mean, after all tomorrow-"

"I'd prefer that you stay," the archivist replies, gentling squeezing her pink servos. Ariel looks up at Orion Pax, her optics full of understanding.

"Don't worry too much Pax," Ariel says, stepping forward to hug his waist. She lets her helm make contact to his chest-plates, listening to the beating spark beneath his armor.

"It'll be fine."

"I don't want to be alone tonight," Orion whispers, embracing her as well.

"You won't have too. I'll be here, always."

Present day; Jasper, Nevada . . .

"Optimus," a voice calls to the Prime. The Matrix Bearer then snaps out of his reverie and realizes his surroundings. He is at the monitor, and the other Autobots are out, picking up their respective charges from the high school.

"Yes old friend?" Optimus asks the CMO. He turns to the red and white mech. "What is it?"

"You have that look in your optics again," Ratchet explains.

"The thing is though; I haven't seen that look since the twilight of the War, all those years ago." Optimus makes a sound of confirmation, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to deceive him.

Ratchet reaches up to Optimus's shoulder strut, grasping it for a few moments before releasing his grip. "I know it has been many, many stellar cycles that you saw her last."

"It . . . makes me miss her more."

After the War first broke out, Optimus, the first Prime since the Golden Age of Cybertron, hadn't seen Ariel once the battles between the Autobots and Decepticons started. They didn't meet again until about three million years later, when Prime was visiting one of the med-bays.

He remembers meeting a pink femme, sitting on a berth with her right leg propped up on a block. Her bright blue optics were staring ungratefully at the cast on her appendage. A image, deep from within Orion Pax's memory core brings up a similar situation that happened to him.

By then, Ariel was no more. She had become Elita One.

They were shocked of course, seeing one another after so long. As to what Elita had told him, Alpha Trion had to do a major overhaul on her chassis with other medics. It was due to an injury that was so ghastly, it almost killed her.

The long lost lovers spoke to one another for quite some time. From afar, it was a professional conversation. But, only a handful of Autobots knew what really went on between the pair before the War broke out.

However, with the Matrix of Leadership within him, Optimus had a hard time conveying his emotions to the femme he cherished. Elita laughed it off of course, saying with the huge responsibility of a Prime, he'd of course have many other things on his processor.

Their meetings with each other were both far too short and too far in between, the former archivist thought. In total, they only met five times through the course of the War.

Abruptly, pain and sadness stab at the Prime's spark, making Optimus's intakes hitch a bit. He shutters his optics tightly. Then, Prime sighs deeply, heavily.

Several hundred years before Cybertron went fully dark . . . Elita had sacrificed her life. She valiantly jumped atop a shrapnel grenade that would've killed the rest of her squad if she hadn't covered it.

Sadly, according to the medical report, Ariel never made it to the operating table.

Knowing the Prime's mood then, Ratchet leaves the Matrix Bearer alone to his memories.

The sound of the other Autobots entering through the silo make Optimus straighten up a bit, having to keep his emotions in check once again. Moments before Arcee and Jack enter the main room, a memory tugs at the Prime's CPU.

He was sitting across from Elita One, staring at her as if it was the first time he had ever set eyes upon a femme.

"Are you alright Or-Optimus?" the pink femme asks, catching her mistake. She gapes at him.

"Well, when I saw some holo-scans of you from several of my squad members, I couldn't believe it . . ."

"So . . . Ariel, it's Elita One now, isn't it?" Optimus says. His face was expressionless, but his voice displayed his shock quite suitably.

"It's alright Orion," she said with a rare smile that brightened up the whole room. "But you know some things never change."

"How odd that I find you like this, just like that day . . ." the Prime articulates, still in shock. Especially when his spark does flip flops once again.

It was as if he back when he was a simple data clerk in the Iacon Hall of Records . . . back to when he was Orion Pax.

Later, Optimus found himself at the top of the missile silo, looking off into the horizon. The sun was setting, throwing blankets of pink and orange into the horizon. Soon, it'd be a jet black sky, dotted with stars.

I hope, wherever you are . . . you're happy, Prime silently whispers to the heavens. Prime sits on the edge, legs dangling off the side of the silo. He sits there for several hours, just watching the sky.

Vaguely, whatever left of Orion Pax wondered if Ariel was watching him, and what could've been if he hadn't gone to the High Council.

Optimus wondered if it was just his imagination, or that the wind was blowing a message to him. He could hear a faint voice . . .

"Love, go inside, get some rest." The last of the Primes obeyed. He promptly got up and slowly starts walking back into base, his spark floating in its casing as his memories of those cherished years dance in his memory core.

He didn't see the streak of pink light pass overhead, twisting, twirling and soaring through the cosmos.

A/N: This is the last chapter of this short fic . . . sorry guys.

But, are any of you interested in a future fic of when Elita comes to Earth in TFP? What do you guys think?