The Start of Something Interesting...

[lastonepercent]

The day was calm, with no recent Decepticon attacks, and none suspected to be incoming for some time.  The cons were too busy licking their wounds from the last battle, one that the Autobots had decidedly come out ahead on.  The celebrations had gone on long into the night and the recreation room was already a mess.

Thus, it was the perfect chance for a lone Autobot to slip casually outside.

Mirage had no shift currently scheduled, so he was free to spend his time as he pleased.  He certainly made no move to hide his departure, greeting his comrades in the halls on the way out, but the box in his hands remained unopened despite any passing curiosity.  It was quietly shifted into subspace before long, and  the former noble shifted into alt mode just as smoothly when he reached the doors.  Despite the completely inappropriate earthen race car mode, the mech had little trouble self-adjusting before driving off into the forest covering the mountain, for business unknown...

Comments

[cliffjumper]

If he hadn't been prepared, Cliffjumper might have pushed Mirage away out of pure reaction and surprise, regardless of the situation and his actual feelings. Since he was prepared, all he did was freeze.

Static brushed against his lips, and Cliffjumper cut off the little squeak that wanted to escape by resetting his vocaliser. Tightened the grip on Mirage's hand, and knew he was blushing.

Which, hopefully, wouldn't reveal that something was off to anyone, but why would a blush do that?

Cliffjumper clung to that thought and managed to not tilt into the brief kiss, or move at all when Mirage straightened back up again and the ambassador stepped forward, arms flung out.

"To a prosperous negotiation!"

The crowd, silent until now, cheered.

[lastonepercent]

Smiling to the crowd, Mirage tilted his helm humbly among the cheers.

::Good job. Don't let go yet - we depart hand-in-hand.::

Giving Cliffjumper's hand a return squeeze in attempted reassurance, he vented a silent but deep sigh of relief. They'd made it through.

He bowed to the ambassador - and then to Thundercracker, though it made his spinal struts itch to do so - before following the Paradronian slowly out of the energon pool. Now he only had to guide Cliffjumper back out through the rest of the temple, and they could go on to other, less formal activities.

[cliffjumper]

::Fine.:: Cliffjumper resisted the urge to grimace and shake his head, though it was even harder when Mirage had to bow to Thundercracker - even if the Seeker made a shallow bow back, unable to hide his sour expression as he did so.

And Cliffjumper really hoped he wasn't blushing just from holding fragging hands with Mirage - that wasn't just embarrassing, it was pathetic, and... might get people suspicious.

He probably wasn't, but he worried that he was.

And what was worse was that the evening wasn't, of course, over. The huge hall they stepped into after leaving the temple made Cliffjumper want to groan in frustration. Some sort of more-or-less formal dinner.

::How long do ya think before this is over?:: Cliffjumper hissed as he glanced around, once again feeling very much out of place in these extravagant surroundings.

[lastonepercent]

Blushing might not be as damning as Cliffjumper feared. Mirage couldn't help but find it rather adorable - and if he looked upon it fondly, it could only help rather than hurt the impression that they were besotted with one another.

So as long as he could keep the minibot from getting fed up...

::Oh, it will be some time yet,:: Mirage said, already resigned as he bowed and made pleasant introductions to the elite Paradronians that were beginning to approach.

::You'll probably be able to bow out gracefully earlier than the actual conclusion, if you need to. But the actual gala will last well into the night.::

[cliffjumper]

::Thank Primus for that,:: he muttered, but that still meant he had, what... a few hours to go, at least? A few hours Cliffjumper was not looking forward to or feeling pleased about.

Or, maybe worse, ready for. But as long as no one talked to him, maybe it'd be all right.

::How the frag do ya even stand things like this?:: Because it wasn't hard to tell that Mirage was an old hand at this; his motions were well-oiled and the phrases used clearly familiar, even if there was some differences between how Mirage expressed himself and how the Paradronians did so.

[lastonepercent]

::Oh, I am quite used to it,:: Mirage said with a silent laugh, simultaneously starting a conversation with an approaching Paradronian noble.

::I first onlined to these sorts of things, after all. It can be quite enjoyable, in the right circumstances.::

He paused briefly, distracted by the flutter of people swarming them as politely as he could manage.

::Do be sure to greet this next mech politely. I believe he is an ambassador from a different province of Paradron, if I recall correctly.Then I think we can take our seats.::

[cliffjumper]

'Quite enjoyable'. Cliffjumper would've shot Mirage an incredulous and dirty look if he could, because he couldn't see how a thing like this could be enjoyable in any circumstance.

And politely? Cliffjumper huffed silently as he hoped he managed some minimum standard of politeness, rattling off the phrase Mirage had told him to use. Because what would be polite was if these fragging tall slaggers would sit down so he didn't have to strain his neckcables and bend his back-strut out of alignment.

Frowning at the way two fingers lingered against the gap between his hand and the armour of his forearm, Cliffjumper said and did nothing except to narrow his eyes a little, but the mech stepped back in the next moment.

::So, sitting down?:: Hopefully the seats were adjustable.

[lastonepercent]

:Well done, Cliffjumper,::

Mirage's grin briefly turned up at the corners, and his other palm found it's way to the minibot's shoulder as a sign of pleasure and to serve as a guiding hand.

::And of course. This way,:: using that hand to guide him, Mirage led Cliffjumper directly to their seats of honor at the high table. Thankfully, the seats were indeed adjustable - the finest Paradronian society could offer, in fact. Surely he would be able to find a comfortable setting.

[cliffjumper]

::If you say so,:: Cliffjumper muttered, unable not to duck his head away from that grin less he started blushing, which was just awful. Why was he getting so bad at pretending everything Mirage did affected him!?

... Probably because, thanks to their supposed relationship, Mirage wasn't just paying attention to him, but positive such. Inside his own processor, Cliffjumper sneered at himself.

Utterly, fraggin' pathetic. Particularly since Mirage did not care. He was doing this for the mission, nothing else.

::Everyone's gonna be seeing us!:: At least the seats were adjustable, Cliffjumper found, no matter how reluctant he was at getting up there, and it was only the fact that they were in a highly public place that made sure Cliffjumper didn't play with all the settings available and simply found something so he didn't look ridiculous.

Even if his feet were quite far off the floor.

[lastonepercent]

::I do believe that is the point.:: Mirage's grin only widened when Cliffjumper ducked his helm.

How oddly adorable.

::We are the guests of honor, after all.::

Shoving Cliffjumper in a situation where he had to be civil was working oddly well. Good thing his feet were hidden from view by the table. He didn't think the minibot would tolerate the indignity of it all.

::Once everyone is settled we should be starting. We'll only be the focus for the beginning, and then we can refuel. I assure you, it will be quite nice.::

[cliffjumper]

::I'm not made for stuff like this,:: Cliffjumper complained, wishing the chair had somewhere he could put his feet - as it was, they were left dangling. It was a good thing the table hid his feet.

He wouldn't have been able not to scowl if he'd caught someone staring and then smiling, or something. He still was somewhat uncomfortable with the last mech... he pushed that thought away at Mirage's explanation and frowned, then smoothed his expression out again.

::What, there's gonna be more stuff? What can we even do at a table aside from refuel?:: It wasn't even that Cliffjumper was particularly hungry or anything, just confused and now annoyed.

[lastonepercent]

::Perhaps not. But you are handling it very well,:: Mirage said graciously.

::And of course. But just at the beginning,:: He hid a laugh behind his hand. Unlike Cliffjumper, Mirage was well aware of the subtle looks they had been getting, and was so far pleased by the reaction.

::Once everyone is seated they will open with a toast to the proceedings, announce us - and Thundercracker, unfortunately - as the guests of honor. Then we refuel, and make casual conversation.::

[cliffjumper]

Well, at least that was something. Cliffjumper was rather sure he could trust Mirage to tell the truth in this, if only because Mirage had so far been pretty viciously insistent on this not failing because of any mess-ups from the minibot.

As annoying as that was.

::'Of course',:: Cliffjumper repeated and then was caught between slumping over the table and groaning - he resisted the urge - and to stiffen a little in alarm, because while that sounded simple, he wasn't sure it could necessarily be.

Casual conversation? He was absolutely going to say the wrong thing.

::Right, so do my best not to look murderous when they mention him,:: he managed to say nonchalantly, instead of hissing something at Mirage that he couldn't do something like casual conversation.

What did these stuck up frags even count as casual conversation anyway?

[lastonepercent]

::Yes, looking murderous is to be avoided,:: Mirage agreed calmly, reaching across the table to giving Cliffjumper a pat on the forearm.

::You'll be fine. I'm sure we can find a safe topic of conversation. -Ah, here we go. Watch.::

Everyone was seated, the rustling of hundreds of mechs fading down to a dull roar. The ambassador stood from their seat of honor between the two sets of foreign Cybertronians, holding out their arms to the assembly.

It really was a brief introduction of both parties, and a cheering toast was raised to their visit. Everyone technically already knew who the mechs were; it was a matter of formality only. The large gathering of Paradronians all raised their fuel toward the head of the table and drank-

And then the more informal meal officially began.

[cliffjumper]

Cliffjumper had been extremely relieved when he'd managed to sneak away, though he hoped it hadn't been obvious how relieved he'd been. The sneaking away in itself had been both easy, and a bit embarrassing.

The latter mostly when the few who'd noticed him leave had looked indulgently amused.

Cliffjumper was honestly not sure what to think about that, but he'd managed not to grimace about it until he was back in his and Mirage's suite. He wondered how old they thought he was, if all this time in a society that clearly didn't have any minibots but might have had contact with other species would make them start to associate 'tiny' not just with 'organic', but 'young'.

He sure as slag hoped not, because if he got someone trying to act like he was a newspark he wasn't sure if he'd be able to behave.

At least he'd been able to spend the last few hours in peace and quiet, finding that they had the equivalent to the Internet here - of course, Cybertron had had it as well, before and during part of the war. Something to do, at least.

[lastonepercent]

Mirage does not return to their shared apartment until hours after Cliffjumper's departure.

He'd watched the minibot depart - and the reactions to said departure - with a trained optic. He'd timed it well, pinging Cliffjumper during a lull in conversation that refocused on Thundercracker instead of themselves.

"My companion is tired. To be honest, they are a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, good as it may be."

The reactions were generally positive and understanding- and genuine, as best as Mirage could tell. He was forced to step it up a little in Cliffjumper absence, but the lack of minibot to watch for a possible explosion of temper allowed him to 'play the game' more readily.

He had been forged for this sort of life, after all.

But eventually the party had wound down, and Mirage made his own excuses and was escorted back to their rooms. He entered, tired but satisfied, field at a contented buzz.

[cliffjumper]

As the hours dragged on, Cliffjumper had vaguely considered going to recharge, but this was a mission, and that meant he should stay up in the case of Mirage needing backup... or checking in when he came back.

Which he finally did, and, incomprehensibly enough, his field was practically radiating content. Grimacing, Cliffjumper looked up at Mirage and just stared for a moment.

"I really don't fraggin' get how a situation like that can leave you happy," he said with a huff, but with no real accusation or aggressiveness, just annoyed confusion.

[lastonepercent]

"A successful public event is nothing to understate, Cliffjumper," Mirage said calmly, slowly making his way across the room. He was pleased, but oh so very tired.

"We managed quite well. I think we pulled it off, and the reception to us both seems very positive."

He gave the minibot a wry grin as he dropped down onto the nearest bit of furniture with a casual air. "But yes, I do admit, I enjoyed the function. It was...familiar to me."

[cliffjumper]

'Nothing to understate'. Cliffjumper rolled his optics, but somehow that statement was almost cute instead of annoying. Clearly it was something Mirage wasn't just used to, but actually liked, no matter how strange Cliffjumper found it.

"Well, I guess that's good," he said while watching Mirage slump down in a seat, looking tired and loose-limbed but, yes, pleased, "and I guess it's good one of us is enjoying this at least."

He shook his helm, still feeling utterly flabbergasted by the idea that something like that could be enjoyable, but maybe that was good, especially in a situation like this.

"I suppose Thundercracker didn't mess up, did he?" Cliffjumper asked, unable to hide the slightly spiteful disappointment at that prospect.

[lastonepercent]

"It is indeed," Mirage agreed, faintly smug. "That is what I am here for, after all."

He stretched a bit, before settling even further into the chair. If he got too comfortable, he might be tempted to recharge there.

"Well. He didn't mess up, per say. But he certainly couldn't hide his distaste at time. And you should have seen his face when you make your escape," Mirage grinned, leaning in conspiratorially.

"I think he was jealous."

[cliffjumper]

Optics flickering a little at that, Cliffjumper laughed sharply and not particularly kindly. Cliffjumper wasn't, after all, above taking some spiteful delight in a Decepticon being unhappy with something he'd managed.

"Good," Cliffjumper said with a snort, "I guess it won't help him that he couldn't keep his face, either?"

Then he paused, rubbing his neck briefly.

"Not sure I managed that all the time before I got away, though."

[lastonepercent]

"Not to a terrible degree, but no. It was a little obvious to those who noticed."

And Mirage knew several Paradronians noticed.

"You managed to an acceptable degree, I do think." Mirage gave Cliffjumper an approving nod.

"It's not like they are not unaware of the general gist of our supposed situation - they know you are not 'used' to being the focus of such crowds, as we were not 'involved' before the war began, of course. You have as much leeway as I have been able to slip into our supposed tale."

[cliffjumper]

He probably shouldn't be as pleased by the approval as he was, something which led Cliffjumper to feeling slightly disgusted with himself, but he just nodded hesitantly and grimaced a little.

"That's... good, I suppose. I mean, we don't want 'em to take offense this early on." Or at all, really, even if Cliffjumper was feeling grumpy and disapproving of these soft-appearing, near-war frames. They were just weird and he didn't like them. Or this.

Not that it mattered; they just had to do it.

"... Sorry I can't help ya more, though," Cliffjumper said after a moment, scowling at the low table between the couches and chairs, because regardless of what he thought about this, it wasn't particularly fair that Mirage had to take the majority of the burden.

[lastonepercent]

"Of course," Mirage agreed, privately pleased that Cliffjumper was apparently beginning to grasp the political side of the situation.

Mirage leaned forward, his most charming - if rather tired - grin slipping into place without conscious choice. "I do appreciate that thought, Cliffjumper."

He paused, vents fluttering and optics flickering down to a lower power level in a tired 'yawn'.

"Ah, excuse me. As I was saying, just continue as you have been, and you will be helping me quite well."

[cliffjumper]

Mirage leaning forward wasn't strange; in fact, Cliffjumper stiffened, ready for some sort of rebuke even if he wasn't sure what it could even be for. Then the fragging noble smiled, and not any of the ones Cliffjumper usually saw.

He was not blushing.

He better not be blushing, slag it all.

"Yeah, whatever," Cliffjumper hissed and jumped to his feet, shifting a moment before he turned around, "better go recharge or something, you look like you need it."