Poisoned Rose (Heatwave x Quickshadow)

3. Consideration

The walk back to the firehouse was unusually silent. Even Kade felt the urge to hold his tongue for once.

Rose had fallen deep into recharge in Heatwave's arms, her tiny lip components parted ever-so-slightly as she vented. Her servos were entertained with one of the firebot's large gray digits, making her frame look even smaller and more fragile than it was. Heatwave could barely take his optics away from the sparkling, cradling her in his arms as if she were his own.

Quickshadow blinked rapidly to clear her processor and concentrated on not tripping over her own pedes. Boulder had recommended they take the back roads to avoid the townsfolk's questions; even if they did know the truth, and as welcoming as they were, they probably weren't exactly going to be....understanding of the fact that Heatwave was carrying a petite version of an Autobot.

Besides, Quickshadow wasn't used to the kind of acceptance and partnership everyone seemed to have around here. Practically her entire lifespan had revolved around hiding herself from others, simply completing her missions as swiftly and as flawlessly as she could. It helped keep her mind from dwelling on the past. Every new assignment was a chance to shove those memories deeper and deeper into the expanse of her processor.

But something was forcing a few of those files to resurface and nag her to no end, and she knew exactly who it was. Quickshadow glanced back at the bots behind her, her optics landing on Heatwave. The firebot was gently rubbing Rose's faceplates with his thumb, his optics the dimmest she'd ever seen them.

Quickshadow sighed. She truly didn't know what to make of Heatwave. He confused her. He made her feel alien, more so than she already felt. She could tell that not all of the team trusted her, even after the incident with the Phodolite. But Quickshadow knew enough to tell that that wasn't what was bugging Heatwave; why she hadn't quite managed to forge a strong tie between them. Point being, he had been avoiding her since the day she judo threw him across the room.

Guilt flickered across her features and she turned, her usually ramrod straight posture loosening a bit. Was Heatwave really still mad at her for the sparring match? She had given his pride a bit of a beating, but she hadn't gloated about it. At least, not straight to his face. And he hadn't shown any signs of being too terribly sore about it. In fact, he had complimented her about her skill several times afterwards.

So what was sparking this rift in their small, yet rather significant relationship? Was Heatwave really so dense that he couldn't get over one little fight?

Quickshadow released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and pulled her thoughts back together. She had responsiblilites now, more so than it seemed she had had during the war. It was all rather overwhelming. And now, on top of constantly trying to keep Blurr and Salavage under control on the Mainland while keeping in contact with the rescue team on Griffin Rock, she had to worry about a sparkling. Brilliant.

How in the All Spark did Heatwave do it? It had already been made clear that Quickshadow wasn't really leader material. She was an agent, trained only to focus on what was asked of her. Thinking outside the box and Plan Bs had never really been her thing--Plan A had always been enough to get the job done. But, Quickshadow realized, she was going to have to learn how to work around that if she really wanted to dedicate herself to the Rescue Bots, especially if she wanted to be a part of training the next generation.

Quickshadow glanced back at Heatwave and Rose one last time before shaking herself out of dreamland, recalibrating her optics to focus on the uneven terrain ahead of them. She had fallen well behind Boulder, and she could almost hear Rose shuffling in Heatwave's arms behind her.

Suddenly Heatwave jogged up to match her stride, careful not to jostle the recharging femme cradled in his arms. Wordlessly, he brushed his shoulder against hers, not having to tell her why.

She already knew.