Jealous Solarflare
Featuring Strata

Optics narrowed, Solarflare watched with growing resentment as the red-gold gilder-femme strolled into the training room of Autobot City. She crossed hesitantly, head turning this way and that before she zeroed in on Mirage hanging off the ropes, chatting amicably with Prowl.

WHACK!

Biting her lip, Flare staggered upright, her forearms shaking from the sting of the blow. “It’s not like you to daydream, Flare,” Sunstreaker chastised, spinning the staff with his right hand. “Pay attention! Guard up, girl.”

Flare backed up, lifting her staff in response to his command, but she couldn’t keep her optics off the way the other femme was looking at Mirage. She had slipped from the avian’s corner and was quietly making her way to where the spy was.

Sunstreaker looked up, ready to bark out another vicious command, when a slow smile crossed his face. Giving a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw it. Despite appearances, he was quite observant, and he'd noticed a certain tension between the senior and the junior. Neither publicly acknowledged it, preferring to affect a gloomy exterior in each others' presence.

The golden warrior sighed and shook his head. It was like Solarflare and Mirage all over again. Well, he wouldn't let this drag out any more than it had to. Flare'd forgive him; it was in her nature. Besides, he could always tell her he was looking out for her—little sister thing, he supposed. Femmes liked being told that. ... Well, she did anyway; Sunny never had a relationship with a femme extend into that region before.

"Hold on, Flare."

Solarflare lowered her staff, tilting her head to the side quizzically. "What?"

Sunny walked over to the ropes and ducked under, dropping his staff to the floor. "I'm getting you a new sparring partner." He glanced over his shoulder, watching Flare's crest sweep backwards until it was flat against her skull, eyes wide. "You. Strata. Get your aft up here."

"No, Sunny –" Solarflare began, shaking her head as Strata turned around, wearing a similar expression. Then, very slowly, a smile lit the other femme's face and she nodded, walking toward the ring. "Sunny ..."

The golden warrior silenced her with a raised hand. "Believe me. Now, up you get, she-bot. Here, take my staff. I'm going to coach you two through a round or two."

There was a loud explosion of air and a clank as Solarflare dropped her staff. It rolled passed her feet to the other corner of the ring. "I refuse!"

Strata had finished climbing through the ropes and stood there, Sunstreaker's staff in her hand, arms spread wide. "Why?" she asked innocently, too purely.

"I won't play party to your schemes, Sunstreaker," Solarflare rumbled, crest flat. With another snort, she walked off, jumping the ropes and striding out of the training room.