Frozen sand crunched underfoot and surf washed up into lines of frozen yellow foam. Kicking at the dark sand, Skyshot dislodged a rock and nudged it with her toe before looking up and down the deserted beach. The ocean was a dark steel gray that heavy clouds mimicked, promising snow as they rolled in to land. A gust of wind howled across the beach, whipping up stinging swirls of the frozen sand, and she clamped her plating down as tight as possible with a shiver.
“What do your Seeker eyes see, Sky?”
“Oh my god, I am confiscating the bluray player.” Turbines whining futilely and stamping uselessly in the hard packed beach, Skyshot tried to generate some warmth in her frame as she gave the yellow mech the most unamused look she could manage. It was colder in the thin atmosphere while flying, yes, but her engines and turbines screamed and howled with heat and speed.
Bumblebee grinned, vents jetting puffs of steam as his heaters whirred softly and his doorwings waggled with mirth. “Gonna take my Netflix away, too?” he quipped, too damn chipper. It wasn’t fair, didn’t he spend years in the Nevada desert? Though Skyshot knew from old data files Cybertron had its own share of unpleasant weather patterns, this probably wasn’t the worst compared to what the mech’s homeworld could dish out.
“I might,” she grumbled, trying to keep some composure as she walked over to stand practically on top of his feat and soak in some of the heat radiating off his frame. She wiggled clawed digits, wrinkling her nose at the webbing of frost that was already forming and then melting away. “Or I might just stick my fingers in your vents.”
“Kinky,” Bumblebee remarked mildly, looking up and down the beach again. “Fixit said he and the others picked up a signal along the coastline, but there’s literally nothing out here.”
“Maybe the weather’s messing with the sensors.” Skyshot moved closer until her side was actually pressed up against his leg, relaxing a little as some of his heat finally bled into her plating. “Storm coming in, looks like it’ll hit in an hour or two.”
“I’d hate to be a ‘con stuck out in that,” he agreed.
“I’d hate to be us stuck out in that,” she muttered, wings pressing eagerly into his servos when he reached down to stroke them soothingly.
“You okay? Can you fly back or do you need a lift.”
“Just peachy. I’ll be fine once I get up in the air.” She rattled her wings and back plating, shaking sand out of aileron hinges, and tried to chase after the warm hand that withdrew.
“We should come back when we’re not on patrol duty,” Bumblebee suggested after transforming into altmode. “It looks nice here.”
“Sure, when it’s about fifty degrees warmer, maybe. I’ll bring my bikini.” Skyshot kicked off the ground with a roar of her engine, keeping low until she was sure no ice had built up on anything critical and she would stay aloft.
Bumblebee chucked and crunched across the sand until wheels touched the road, turning back for home. “C’mon, grumpy. And I’m totally holding you to the bikini thing.”
“Mmm, maybe if you help me with a hot shower.”