A situation that might, or might not, have to do with the whole reason Optimus had been hired as a bodyguard, it's kind of hard to know probably, since there'd been no outward mention of which Decepticon senator Cliffjumper had incriminating proof on.

Arcee smiled, clearly pleased at the greeting; Optimus did, of course, have the possibility of ignoring her in favour if his work, no matter her higher status, especially if he's been told it all right.

"Cliffjumper, it's pleasant to see you... and so fetching, too. No matter the new optics looking, perhaps you should have waited, though?" Arcee frowned just minutely, and Cliffjumper scowled, but there was more confusion than understanding what she's referring to in that expression.

"What? Mirage told me I had to, so I got it. An' he's a---" Cliffjumper cut himself off, huffing. "Your imagination's too slaggin' huge, Arcee." Cliffjumper scowled again, tapping his glass against his upper arm as he loosely crossed his arms.

::Both. Or, rather, Springer is. I think he's been teachin' Hot Rod.:: Cliffjumper did his best to not sound either flustered from Arcee's earlier implications, or jealous that someone else who wasn't supposed to learn weapons, was.