Drinking-Energon Solarflare
Featuring … a pole

Slag, the Twins really made a good drink when they got their act together. Life was pretty rosy right now, and she felt like she loved everyone and everything in it. She supposed if Megatron came busting through the door, she might as well have humped his leg like a puppy. Isn’t he dead?

Maybe they poisoned me, she thought wryly, grinning like a moron.

Love potion number nine … la-lalala …

Normally, the sane, reasonable part of her cortex spoke up, you don’t drink – and this is way too much.

But it’s a party! We won the slaggin’ war!

Oh, fine.

“Well, Flare, don’t you look happy. Wanna dance?”

Tilting her head to the side, Solarflare grinned like a fool. “Sure.” Something was pressed into her hands – or she was, there wasn’t much she could tell right now. It was so smooth and cool; it reminded her of her favorite body part on Mirage. Around and around she spun, watching Rainbow Brite and Starlite dance on a rainbow that sprouted from between Sunstreaker’s fins.

“Whee! 'Love me like a bomb, c'mon baby get it on!' ”

Jazz folded his arms. “Yer bad, boys,” he noted, watching the senior femme spin around the structural support. All around, Autobots were passed out drunk, or in the final stages of becoming unconscious. He winced as Flare did a most improper motion against the thick brass pole and turned away.

“Shut up, Jazz. I’m trying to film this.”