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[Ah, here we have the not-so-illusive Sideswipe. Fresh, red hot angry teenager for you, Moira. All those blue lights on his armor glowing hotly. Here is a robot child with a bone to pick.]

[He's standing outside his room -- if anyone knows for sure where that is, and... bristling. As much as a guy covered in armor can bristle.]

Okay! So, hey, are we done arresting each other for stupid stuff?

[Sideswipe 'mutiny' isn't stupid--]

Because, I gotta say, if anyone else has a problem with Riptide? You're gonna take it up with me! That's right. Me.

[A guy who looks more like a beanpole than a warrior.]

The great Earth-Cop Sideswipe! Team Bee's finest! And Riptide's mine to handle, so there. No one else gets any other ideas about dragging him anywhere, no matter your universe. Unless you want to get sideswiped.

Out the airlock.

...

Oh yeah also, if you're tiny and organic and some idiot the size of a building starts throwing down? Page me. I'll be your one-way-ticket out of smashville.

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Good! Because you can't!

[It's stupid to yell that, but... it feels good. If he were more mature, he'd be ashamed of lashing out. He doesn't care, though. Because if this guy wasn't here, things would still be okay.]

[Would still be getting better.]

Oh yeah. Because you trying's gonna do something me trying isn't. Some big, blue bucket can fix him when I can't. Sure, dude. Try.

[He has to cut off his rant to scrub at his optics with the back of his hand.]

... I don't have anybody from home. He's all there is. So none of you are gonna take him away from me again.

Got that? You want to throw him in the brig, I go with him!

[Magnus throws his hands up quickly, palms out, in a placating gesture.]

I'm not throwing anyone into the brig, Sideswipe. When I attempted to apprehend Riptide I was angry. I acted out, just as you are now. Just as you have every right to do.

He won't be taken away from you. I want to work with him. I want to find out what he knows because maybe he holds answers that can help smooth this whole thing over.

You believe in him, correct? Well, I want to believe in him too. And in order to do that, I wish to work with him.

You can supervise if that will make you feel better.

[Magnus' hands moving is... well. He jerks back, one hand going for his sword out of sheer reflex. He doesn't have it in him to actually USE it against another bot, but...]

How am I supposed to believe you! Maybe you just want me to chill out so you can get to him easier!

... yeah. You're going to have to do it with me there and deal with it. Where he goes I go.

In that case, what would it take to get you to believe me?

A miracle.

That's what.

Let me rephrase:

What attainable and wholly possible action would it take for you to believe me?

I am earnestly trying, Sideswipe.

Leave him alone.

Make all of the rest of you leave him alone, too. For a week.

Oh, and while you're at it, no one gets to tell him he's awful. Not where he or me, or the littler Bee can hear it.

This is more reasonable, but I have some questions for the sake of clarification.

First of all, do you want us to leave him alone entirely? What if someone wishes to check on him and make sure he is alright? Can we amend that condition to 'He must be left alone for a week unless someone wishes to check on his well-being?' In other words, a positive visit?

As for the second condition, this is acceptable. I will pass this along and I will enforce it to the best of my abilities.

Don't get all jargon-y on me! You know what I meant! Don't bother him!

... I'll believe it when I see it.

This is not 'jargon.' These are...these are just words. There is no jargon to be found here. I just want to find what the acceptable boundaries are so that I do not overstep them.

Okay, fine!

Don't talk to him! At all! If you wanna, you gotta go through me.

Very well, I accept your terms.

[He offers Sideswipe a handshake.]

One week.

[He looks down at that huge goddamn hand.]

[And then up.]

[And back down.]

[Before forgoing the handshake entirely and smacking it with a 'hi-five' as hard as he possibly can. It probably hurts him more than anything.]

Excuse you.

That was rude.

I was offering you a handshake.

Excuse you, that was the handshake of my people.

We are the same people.

Uh, no.

I'm from a different universe.

So, you are telling me that the Cybertronians in your universe come to verbal agreements and then slap the living daylights out of their appendages?

Because, that seems incredibly counter-intuitive.

[Without hesitation:]

Yes.

Yes, we do.

This suddenly explains so very much.

So.

We good?

Yes.

Aside from your lack of coordinating conjunctions, we are good.

No, I said "we good"?

That's how we talk in Cool Universe.

No.

Absolutely not.

I refuse to believe there is a version of Cybertron that has devolved into total and complete grammatical anarchy! I was willing to accept slapping limbs as a means of positive affirmation, but this is absolutely, irrevocably nonsense!

...

Now I wish I had a recording of Jazz just to see if you'd pop a gasket.

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