A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone, but life's been hellaciously busy of late. I've not forgotten any of my stories, just concentrating on getting my career worked out. Thanks to all of you who have favorited, alerted, and reviewed thus far—I write for you guys. Enjoy this chapter; it's uncharacteristically fluffier than most!

Chapter 23: Of Soap Suds and Friendships

Dezba listened to the heavy cadence of Thundercracker's metallic feet as he walked down the corridor and out into the desert. The day was dry and breezy and the young woman savored the gentle kiss of air as it gently pulled against her tangled locks of hair. She laid back in his smooth, metal palm and sighed, relieved that the tense confrontation was finally over. Her eyes traveled upward and she stared up into the heavens, watching a lone cloud slowly meander across a periwinkle blue sky. Things had been so hectic, so apprehensive the past few hours that she hadn't realized just how uptight she herself had been until it was all over. Her muscles ached dully and her ribs and arm throbbed in painful protest. Her whole body felt stiff and sore, but just being able to stretch out in Thundercracker's palm and relax against the smooth metal seemed to alleviate some of the aches and pains.

Thundercracker glanced down and casually watched the human laying in his palm. It would be such an easy thing to just close his fingers around her and squeeze until her delicate structure fractured under his strength—if he wanted to. But that was it, wasn't it? Not too long ago he probably would have wanted to, but now he found he could no sooner kill the human in his hand just as he could no sooner kill his wingmate, Skywarp. He didn't like to admit it, but he had grown quite attached to the frail creature now resting in his claws. But it went further than the link that they shared, although Primus knew that had been the catalyst for their friendship. Looking back on everything that had happened up to this point, he knew that he cared as much for Dezba as he had his own sister and in return Dezba cared for him. They both had suffered severe losses in their lifetime, though thousands of years apart, but still, no less traumatic for either one of them. Their friendship had been forged in blood, energon, pain and loss and their mental connection with each other only reinforced that which had been built.

Dezba's hazel eyes drifted from the bright blue sky and met his ruby gaze. She cocked her head curiously and asked, "Something on your mind, TC?"

He smirked. He liked that she had picked up on his nickname; only two others had ever dared to use it—Flare when she had still been alive and Warp. It was nice, really nice.

"Did you really mean it when you said you would not go anywhere without me?"

"Every word," she replied without hesitation. Her eyes never deviated, never blinked, but steadily bore into his own, a testament to the truth of her statement.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement. Movement up ahead drew his attention, however, and he quickly diverted his optics. Dezba turned and followed his gaze, a tiny quiver of apprehension settling in her stomach. Ahead of them, stood a massive aircraft hangar, abandoned by human and Autobot alike. It was a lonely, forlorn-looking building showing signs of its negligent care. Bright, reddish-orange streaks of rust striped the outer walls and dry, yellowish weeds choked the bottom edge of the building's walls. The large sliding doors had been drawn back, revealing the darkened maw of the building's interior. Skywarp stood at the entrance, arms crossed over his cockpit a serious expression on his normally nonchalant face. Dezba and Thundercracker shared a thought, reading each other's minds as only those telepathically connected could.

'Need a moment?'

'More than likely,' he replied, a grim look darkening his features. As they approached, Skywarp motioned to someone inside the building; a few seconds later, Barricade appeared next to the purple and black Seeker. Thundercracker stopped before his friend, wariness evident in his posture.

"Can we talk? Privately?" Warp asked, nodding his head towards the human. Thundercracker raised an optic ridge.

"Starscream has ordered me to tend to the human's needs," Barricade spoke up, providing Skywarp with a necessary outlet. Thundercracker still didn't look too trusting. Brothers-in-arms they were; trusted allies they were not. "I won't harm your pet, Seeker. She needs medical attention and since the two of you have opted to come here, I'm the one playing doctor. Now hand her over," Barricade growled sullenly, opening a clawed hand expectantly.

'Go on. You and Warp need to clarify a few issues. If I need you, you can be sure I'll let you know.'

'I don't like it, but out of all of us here Barricade does the best job in field repairs and is the best versed in human physiology. But if he draws one drop of unnecessary blood, I'll shred his carcass into metal shavings.'

Dezba chuckled mentally; funny though it sounded, she knew her indigo guardian meant every word. Reluctantly she stepped from Thundercracker's hand to Barricade's, allowing the shiny black digits to wrap around her body like a cloak. Barricade snorted derisively and then slowly stalked back into the depths of the old hangar. Dezba watched Thundercracker and Skywarp transform and fly off, a large cloud of dust and grit temporarily obscuring the desert landscape and their subsequent departure. When next she looked, they were but pepper specks in the sky.

She and Barricade walked through the hangar and it didn't escape her attention that she was the object of the hated glares of the twins. Averting her gaze, she saw that Soundwave and all of his cassettes occupied the other side of the hangar. His visor glinted ominously in the dim light; Dezba shuddered involuntarily, remembering those horrid moments when the Communications Officer had mentally probed her mind.

Barricade felt the human's shiver and glanced down at her, optics narrowed slightly. "You have nothing to fear, human. Starscream has given strict orders that you are not to be harmed."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say—rules were made to be broken," she replied, still eyeing the Cons as she and Barricade disappeared into a different room. Once in the room, the police cruiser set her down on the floor and stood back.

"What are you—" Dezba began, but quickly bit her tongue as a red light engulfed her form. She jumped involuntarily as the light lingered for about 30 seconds and then disappeared completely. She heard him growl softly under his breath--something about playing nursemaid to an organic, degradation, filth, and inferiority. She scowled, thoroughly agitated; Dezba didn't have to be an audiologist to figure out the Interceptor was thoroughly disgusted with his current job.

"You know I didn't ask to play doctor with you," she snipped, raising an eyebrow.

"You will do well to keep your organic trap shut," Barricade snapped in reply, all four optics narrowing dangerously.

"Or you'll what? Scan me into submission? Try something and TC will make sure your new alt form will be a toilet bowl!" Perhaps it was the knowledge of her new found position in the turn of events between the Autobots and Decepticons that gave her this spurt of courage to talk back to Barricade. Or maybe it was the comfort knowing she had TC, and by extension Skywarp, as her own personal body guards that made the girl more cheeky than normal. And the fact that she now knew she had Starscream's orders protecting her only added more fuel to the fire. Whatever the reason, Dezba was feeling more bold than normal and it showed in her attitude and her words.

She suddenly found herself flat on her backside, ribs aching all the more. No more than a mere six inches from her person, Barricade slowly withdrew his fist from the round, newly made indention in the floor. A sinister grin slowly appeared on his faceplates as he saw the wide-eyed look of alarm on her face.

"Looks like I missed. Maybe I should try again; after all, accidents do happen," he snarled softly, flexing his finger joints in and out of a fist.

Dezba slowly picked herself up off the floor and gave Barricade a pointed, but wary stare. She wasn't done yet. "Well with aim like that, no wonder this war between you guys and the Autobots has been raging for centuries."

At first his optics flashed with vehemence and Dezba watched as he raised his fist over her tiny form once again. She cringed but didn't take her eyes from his optics. The massive metal fist hovered over her head for a few seconds more, straining the silence between the two. But then a peculiar thing occurred. Barricade began to tremble. At first Dezba stared in confusion; that is until she heard the deep rumbling emanating from the cruiser's broad chest. With a shock, she realized he was chuckling. It was a deep, throaty laugh filled with a dry and cruel sense of humor.

Barricade withdrew his fist and placed his massive, serrated fingers beside her. "I'll give you one thing, femme—you've got ball bearings. You might just make it around here."

Dezba really didn't know what happened after that, other than Barricade tended to her scrapes, lacerations, bruises and also made sure her bones were still set in their proper place. He worked in silence but it was not an awkward silence, but rather a comfortable one. Dezba couldn't help but think that maybe they had reached an understanding.

Barricade had just finished tending to her wounds and, with a grunt, indicated he was finished. As he turned away to clean his claws, it was then that Dezba noticed just how grimy and filthy the police cruiser truly was. Pale dust had turned the normally shiny, black armor panels a dull brownish-black; mud and dirt were caked around the quarter panels, and even the tires were a dingy, road-weary grey. She followed his projected pathway and saw a large faucet bolted into the concrete floor on the opposite side of the room. Suddenly, an idea hit her.

"Hey, Barricade!" she shouted, effectively getting his attention.

"What, meatbag!?" he replied, somewhat sourly. Having organic fluids on his metal was less than pleasant after all. The sooner he removed it the better.

"You ever heard the phrase 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours?" she queried, standing up and approaching him, a sly smirk on her face. It so eerily resembled Starscream's that Barricade had to do a double-take just to ensure whom he was really speaking to.

"And why would I want to do something like that?" he growled.

"Well, I was just thinking…," she paused for emphasis, "You just finished tending to me, so I was thinking that maybe I could do something for you in return."

He raised an optic ridge suspiciously. Respect she had earned, but trust was another issue entirely. "And that would be?"

"How about a car wash?"

The offer took him by surprise. He hadn't had a proper wash since leaving the Nemesis and wash racks had yet to be constructed in their base back in the mountains. The thought of getting all the grit and grime that came with living on this filthy mudball off his frame was a pleasant idea. A pleasant idea at war with the equally disgusting thought of the organic touching him all over in order to achieve said cleanliness.

Dezba saw the hesitation in his manner and guessed as to what was causing the delayed response. "You know, I may be small and I may be nothing but a fleshbag, but I'm a fleshbag that can reach certain areas a whole lot easier than you could. And I'm sure, having been out here in the desert here lately, you've got sand in places you didn't know you had."

Oh, she hit the nail on the head! He didn't know when or how, but this human had definitely been taking persuasion lessons from the Screaming One. The thought of being completely clean and sand-free finally won him over to the idea. It was a logical argument after all.

"All right, squishy," he said smoothly, standing straight and tall. "Let's see if you got what it takes."

Dezba grinned broadly. Oh, how she savored a challenge!

For the first fifteen minutes, Thundercracker and Skywarp flew in silence—a deep, all-consuming, brooding silence. Thundercracker knew exactly what was eating away at his wingmate, but he thought it prudent to let the younger mech initiate the proceedings. They flew in perfect formation; for once Skywarp was on point, Thundercracker slightly behind and to his right wing. If the black jet banked, so did the navy one. Thundercracker mirrored every move his wingmate executed, more from habit than any true desire to do so. Together the duo rolled lazily across the sky, diving, banking, climbing, rolling and even at one point, flipping over their longitudinal axis. There's was a beautiful ballet of aerobatics, more precise than the Blue Angels, more deadly than a nest of pit vipers. It was only after completing these moves thrice over that Skywarp finally elected to say what had been on his processor.

"Why, TC? Why did you never tell me?"

"Would it have made a difference if I did?"

Skywarp did not reply.

"I didn't tell you, Warp, for two reasons. One, it was no one's slagging business and if word had gotten out, then I probably wouldn't still be functional today. Two, in the event that word had gotten around the ranks, I didn't want you involved. Anyone who would have tried to scan your datatrax or review your memories would have discovered you were telling the truth about not knowing I was an Autobot."

Skywarp continued to maintain his silence as he mulled over Thundercracker's words. Truth be told, TC's past probably would have changed his image of the morose, blue Seeker. Was he upset that his supposed best friend hadn't divulged that part of his past? Maybe a little. But now that he saw Thundercracker's reasoning, it made sense. He had been protecting him. The whole time he had been pestering and badgering TC for where he came from, he had refused not completely out of spite, but in the event something went wrong, he wouldn't be incriminated in the aftermath. No "Decepticon" would bother to go to such lengths to protect a comrade, but then again, TC wasn't a true Decepticon; he was something else entirely.

"Warp, my past is a very complicated and twisted thing, filled with betrayal, blackmail, and the slaying of thousands of innocent lives. But I was designed and programmed for one purpose and one purpose only and that was to protect. That was my function before the war and it will ultimately be my function after. Megatron believed he could override that programming with hate and manipulation and in the short run he did, but my core programming was stronger than even he realized and it showed in subtle ways."

"So what happens now?" Skywarp asked, slowly dipping and rising with the air currents.

"That's up to you, Skywarp. Up until my fight with Ironhide, my past was very secretive; undoubtedly now, rumors will have spread back into the Decepticon ranks. I don't have to tell you what to expect."

Skywarp was quiet once more and together the two jets continued to criss-cross through the air. Once he was certain of what he wanted to say, Skywarp spoke. "TC, I may not have as much experience as you or Screamer, but there is one thing I've come to realize that separates us from the rest of the Decepticons."

"Oh, and what's that?" Thundercracker asked, genuinely interested.

"Seekers are unique," Skywarp answered, "I think we're the only Cons in the whole army that really trust each other, no matter what and we'll take the word of a wingmate long before that of a groundpounder."

"But Warp, I wasn't created as a Decepticon Seeker," Thundercracker protested, the memory of Starscream's brooding optics flooding his processor on that fateful day.

"That doesn't matter to me, TC. Autobot, Decepticon—you've always covered my wing and that means more to me than where you came from. We've been through most of the War together, watched each others' tailfins, and kept each other alive out there. I don't think any other Decepticons out there would do stuff like that, unless they were a gestalt or something, but you get the picture?"

"And what of Starscream?"

"What about him?"

"He could still potentially ruin me; he does have a strong measure of blackmail against me," Thundercracker elaborated.

"Well, you said it yourself, TC. Rumors are out now, so doesn't that kinda nullify his blackmail? Besides, when it comes to stuff like that, it only ever matters if you care and the other mech knows you care. Now that word is out, why care? And also, you've earned his respect over the orns, TC. I mean, slag; you're the Second! And now, I don't think he would blackmail you even if the opportunity would present itself."

Thundercracker was somewhat surprised by Skywarp's sudden fount of wisdom. The crazy thing was, it made sense. He was right. Why care? Everything was out in the open; secrets didn't matter anymore. And he had noticed a change in Starscream's behavior towards him, but he had just written it off to the change in the mantle of leadership and the bizarre circumstances the whole army was now facing. But looking at it from Warp's point of view, it seemed logical and at the very least surprisingly accurate.

"I never thought of it like that," he finally murmured.

"I know and that's why you have me," Skywarp replied cheekily.

Thundercracker could practically hear the smirk in Skywarp's voice. He playfully tapped his wing against that of the black jet's. "Yeah, well don't let it go to your head. I already have enough on my struts dealing with Starscream's ego, let alone yours."

"And that's what keeps you on your toes, Thundercracker my friend!" He barrel-rolled lazily across the sky, finally feeling more like his old self.

"So, all's forgiven?" Thundercracker asked, following his friend's vapor trail.

"What's there to forgive, TC?" Beat. "Hey, I know! Race ya back to base!" And with that, the black and purple Eagle disappeared in a flash of purple light, only to reappear on radar almost two miles away.

The blue jet chuckled to himself while simultaneously firing his afterburners. A massive shockwave ripped through the air behind him as he raced to catch up to the black prankster. It felt good to know he still had a friend in Skywarp and even more importantly, a friend that he knew would back him up come whatever may.

Naturally, Skywarp easily beat his blue counterpart back to the base; however, the sounds emanating from the large building made him forget all about winning and just stare in utter befuddlement. Thundercracker landed and transformed smoothly next to him, also deeply interested in the sounds reverberating within the building.

Was that music!? Human music!?

The two Seekers exchanged looks before they began walking towards the hangar. As they slid open the door, a very surprising sight met both their optics and nearly caused the both of them to have a processor melt-down. The song Car Wash sung by Christina Aguilera, was blaring over the speakers of one of the twins, the black Viper Runamuck. The other twin, Runabout, was a sudsy, dirty, sopping wet mess of bubbles, sponges and rags. The powerful 600 horsepower, V10 engine was purring like a large cat in time to the music. Barricade stood nonchalantly against the wall, his armor absolutely gleaming like polished ebony and ivory; he cocked an optic ridge in their direction and the faintest of smirks was pulling on his mouth components. Soundwave was nowhere to be seen, but Rumble and Frenzy were dancing a jig to the music, oblivious to the two new observers. And right smack dab in the middle of the whole scene, was Dezba. Even though her arm was in a sling and her ribs were bandaged, she wasn't letting her injuries keeping her from letting loose and having a little fun. She was currently busy scrubbing a rather filthy, rear quarter panel on the white Viper, her back to the Seekers. She was also singing along to the song and was so busy scrubbing the grime, at first she didn't notice when the music stopped and it grew eerily quiet.

She paused in her work, noticed the abrupt change in atmosphere and slowly turned around to see who stood in the doorway. She gave a hesitant wave, suds dripping from her messy ponytail and flying off her fingers in small, white patches. Fortunately, Skywarp saved the day as he stepped forward and bellowed, "Hey! How come you guys are having a party and didn't invite me!?"

"Well, get in line, flyboy!" Runamuck hollered back, not even missing a beat while pointing to a spot behind him. Immediately the music started back up and Skywarp drug Thundercracker over to stand beside the Viper and the Mustang.

Dezba threw Thundercracker a big grin and went back to work, scrubbing in time to the beat of the music. Well, maybe, just maybe if the other Cons could except a human to scrub and clean their armor, then maybe they could tolerate an ex-Autobot flier in their ranks as well. At this point, anything was possible.