Tell Me What You Think (A CliffCee Short Story based off A Prime's Fate)

Chapter One

"I think we all can agree: we deserve a break," Skywave said, leaning back in her seat. They were currently in the scrapyard, a temporary respite from the citizens who wanted autographs and interviews with each of their heroes. Even Wildstrike had grown tired of the attention, which was definitely rare. A definitive sign of that's enough. 

"Yes," Legend said emphatically. "A very long vacation." 

"Lucky you," Bumblebee said, sweeping into the command center clearing. "Fixit just picked up Steeljaw's signal, and we all know what that means. Back to Decepticon hunting!" 

"Give me a few millennia," Legend said, closing his optics. Bumblebee sighed and sat down next to his sparkmate. 

"I'll help you," Cliffjumper said, opening his servos. "Not like I have anything better to do." 

"You're not going to stay with Team Prime?" Wildstrike asked. 

"Well, while we're here," Cliffjumper corrected. He glanced at Arcee, sitting next to Windblade and Starfreeze. They were having their own conversation, the two-wheeler letting out the occasional snort of laughter. He looked away. He needed a private moment alone with Arcee to sort things out. Whether or not a real relationship was going to develop, or if they were just partners. Either way, he wanted to know. 

"That'd be a great help," Bumblebee said. He suddenly yelped and Skywave scrambled away, shaking her digit. "Hey!" 

The two teams snorted. Cliffjumper again glanced at Arcee. He looked away awkwardly when he saw she was also looking at him. He vented in and stood up, walking over to her. 

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

"In a minute," she said. Cliffjumper frowned. "Give me a second to talk with the others, Cliff. I promise I'll get to you." 

Will you, though? he thought to himself. He grumbled and stepped back. He really needed to talk to her. Would she listen if he begged? Nah, that was stooping too low. Begging was beneath him. 

However, after about fifteen minutes of mingling, and, in his case, silence, he tapped her shoulder. She looked back at him. 

"She'll go," Windblade said sternly, angling a firm glare at Arcee. The two-wheeler sighed and stood up, following Cliffjumper into the privacy of the aisles. 

"What?" she asked, crossing her arms. 

"I need to know," Cliffjumper said, bending over to be more to her height. "Do you...do you want a relationship with me? It's okay if you don't, but I do still want to be partners with you. Like we were before. If you don't feel the same way about me that I do you, then just tell me and we can both forget that I ever mentioned it." 

Arcee blinked, staring at him. He waited anxiously for her response, words and phrases itching to leap off his glossa. He swallowed them and stood up straight after a minute of silence. 

"So?" he prompted. 

"Well..." she said, looking down slowly. "You know...there's a lot going on-" Cliffjumper shook his helm. 

"Be straight with me," he pleaded. "Please." 

"I don't know," Arcee snapped suddenly, her helm darting up to look at him. "Do you know how hard it was to see you as a Terrorcon? I was growing close to you, even then, but that almost ripped me apart, more than Tailgate's death ever could. Are you going to press me? I need time, Cliffjumper. Give me that." 

Cliffjumper blinked, the words shooting straight to his spark with an extra painful sting. "O-okay," he stammered. He took a step back. "I'll give it to you..." He turned away, looking at her out of the corner of his optic. She sighed. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just-" 

"No, I understand," Cliffjumper said, turning back to face her. "I'm pressuring you and you're not ready. I should be the one that's sorry." He placed his servos on her shoulders. "You take all the time you need, and when you are ready, I'll be right there." He then stood up and slipped past her, joining the song that the two teams had started singing. Arcee stayed in the aisle for a moment longer, staring at where he had been. What did she really want?