Aaaaahh.....

['Right there?' Gosh you sure do hang out with Drift a lot. Hmmmm!]

.....no. But. I don't imagine he would have. He knows I'd fret over it. [And he doesn't like to be seen as weak, which this might count as.] It's probably better, I think, that he didn't. We had enough other bad news to catch up on that night.

[Semi-spunky? Wing has to pry the smiles out of that mech, much less real laughter. What's your secret Vandal?]

[A heavy sigh, but it looks like it relaxes him some.] It's okay, really. Thank you for telling me. It's...important to know Prisim's transgressions, the level of danger he presents. [The sentence finishes with his mouth in a hard line.]

[He'll just try not to think about bombs in--well dammit he just guessed where based on the damage--and you, rooting around under Drift's plating... Oh, oops.]

[A slow nod.] He is. [It's both endearing and frustrating.]

It is what it is, the timing-- [ and the he stops because he's just processed all of what you said.] ....'Take me first?'

[He can guess what that means. It's not exactly subtle. But denial comes pretty easily too.]

[There's a pause followed by a chuff of dry laughter. Not exactly the bit of levity he was expecting. He seizes it and runs, because wow this conversation could be a real downer otherwise.] Well at least you got a peek at a spark like you wanted, right?

[He's not going to admit envy at that: there's already enough solid awkward here to pave over the Junk Pile.]

It's--I understand Vandal. [He's trying to anyway.] I'm not especially busy. ...you want some company?

[There's a long pause as intense feelings seem to contend for dominance on his shadowed face. In the end they compromise into a pained half smile.]

_{That's so Drift.}

[He looks like he might cry, and the only thing preventing it is not knowing if it should be from horror or pride.]

Thank you. For doing something. For being there. For helping him. ... When I couldn't.

[His pinions and audials droop, his regret deeply plain.]

It would, yeah. You at your place? I'll be there soon.

[It's one of the obvious benefits of being an airframe, and one of the faster ones here in residence, that he could speedily get to any point in Haven in mere moments. He leaves via his balcony, nacelles flaring to life to push the jet off towards the Junk Pile. Vandal's makeshift home pops up on his HUD soon enough, and he gently lands nearby.]

[The flight cleanses some of the darkened mood from Wing, though not as much as he'd like. Still he puts on a welcomeing face as he approaches the structure.]

[It's an interesting parallel, each of them seeing the other in new dress. Vandal looks more vulnerable this way, Wing thinks, and he takes that as a show of trust.]

[He can't help but try to push his smile a little further, because yeah, it looks like you could use it more than Wing's distress.]

Thanks, it gets me around. I should take you up, sometime.

[He picks a spot to get comfortable near her, settling wearily with his Great Sword in the crook of his arm, its weight always a comfort. He cocks his head, attentive.]

I...sort of need a real cockpit first. But that'll be rectified soon. Then you'll have yourself a tour of this side of Cybertron if you want it. 

[Wing is as openly tactile a mech as Soundwave is, so flopping would not be unwelcome. But he's not sure what Vandal's boundaries are, so he keeps his posture open and let's her choose her comfort zone.]

Don't feel bad, you weren't directly responsible were you?

[He assumes, at least. The bomb thing not withstanding, though that did turn out in their favor. Still, all this serious talk, he's bracing himself for more horrible news.]

[But, oh, that's not...]

What? [That's a pretty silly face he's making right now. ] I...He does...?

[Annnnd that's a pretty cute face.]

Wait. What's that entail exactly...? [culture check!]

[He's at least polite enough to cover his mouth so he doesn't snicker aloud.]

Not of all us need to take passengers or have altmodes that function as native camouflage. That's what you meant, I'm sure. [He smiles, a bit brighter than the last.]

[And oh, it gets even brighter at that. Have a chin tuck and some squinty optics to go with it.] _{I knew it.} [He chirrs with delight.] It's good to hear, really you've no idea. I've been trying, but, hhnnnn, he runs so hot and cold, sometimes I doubt.

And--[have another chuckle]--yes, I do know, but as colloquisims go it's pretty vague. I'd hate to confess all that and have you tell me he really just wanted to help me survey quadrant NS-45.

[So maybe his attempts at levity are falling more than a little flat.]

I--really? He does? [He's a little surprised, and delighted, at that.] I will. Talk to him. [Among other things, he hopes.] I keep trying, but things keep...happening. [An frustrated sigh.]

He needs to know, and understand, how special he is. However long it takes, however many ways I have to say it or how ever often, I won't give up until he gets it.

[And the vibe he's getting from you definitely has him concerned.]

What is it Vandal? You seem troubled. [ He reaches out with a hand, offering the comfort of touch.]