1138/Data and Dating

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off has invited Onslaught to help him crunch some data and show him the increase of 1.6 % in efficiency since the shuttleformer took Onslaught's spreadsheet advice earlier. But Blast Off has a somewhat ulterior motive, too, something he's been too flustered to say out loud. He loves time spent with his fellow Combaticon, but if they're dating now, shouldn't they...like, actually date? Isn't that what couples do? Blast Off \*thinks\* so, he just... doesn't have a lot of experience with this. What Onslaught \*will\* see is Blast Off standing at the door, ready to greet him with a smile, faceplate off for once, and a spreadsheet on a datapad in one hand.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught arrives at the wine shop, genuinely and sincerely excited to see Blast Off's bookkeeping. As for Blast Off's ulterior motives, Onslaught has no clue -- nor does he have much of an idea about what couples do. "Hello!" he says, his optics bright. "How have you been?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off beams up at his Commander, the whiteness of a genuine smile flashing in contrast with his usually masked and dark face. "I'm excellent, you?" He hands the datapad over to Onslaught, gesturing the larger Combaticon over to a pair of comfortable chairs he's set by the counter where there's already some wine and glasses waiting. "There's the numbers," He nods towards the datapad, "...it's quite impressive if I do say so myself."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught's eyes brighten further as he sees Blast Off's smile. "I'm well, thank you," he says, momentarily captivated before he realizes he's standing there gawping. He begins moving toward a chair. He settles down, making himself comfortable. "I'm very interested in seeing these numbers of yours."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off feels his cheeks blushing a bit as he realizes Onslaught is staring. He ducks his head down a bit, chin tucked in, with a small, shy, but warm little smile still plastered on his face. He follows quickly as Onslaught moves, seating himself in the chair next to his leader, and hands him the datapad. Then he sits, hands clasped in his lap, trying not to nervously twiddle his fingers too much. He does bite at his lower lip slightly as he watches Onslaught for his reaction. "It \*really\* helped me."

There probably aren't many that would be this excited for a 1.6% degree increase of effeciency, but it seems to be something the two mechs share.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught mmhmms as he reviews the numbers. "Facinating,' he says. "I think I see where you were able to improve upon my ground work. Here, see?" He shifts in his seat, leaning closer to show the datapad to Blast Off. "Here, on line 1543, do you see what I mean?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off leans in, too, studying the numbers intently. "Ohhh! Yes, yes, I see what you mean! Well, I..." He turns to look at Onslaught and suddenly realizes just how \*close\* their faces are, causing those cheeks to burn again as he edges just a touch away... but not too far away. The shuttleformer's cultered aloofness seems to be crumbling as he tries not to get too flustered, clearing his throat before he continues speaking. "I... I just mean, you're brilliant at this sort of thing. One would hope at least a little of that would rub off on me, right?"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught looks into Blast Off's optics. "You're brilliant in your own right," he says, reaching up to cup Blast Off's cheek. "Brilliant and facinating, you do know that, don't you?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
That has Blast Off freezing, staring wide opticked at Onslaught as a hand cups his cheek. Ok, definitely blushing now, circuitry feeling hot there. The shuttleformer's optics pale and the usual egotistical bravado he displays seems to evaporate completely. "I..." He stares back, lips softly parting to gawp right back. "I, well..."

He suddenly looks down, feeling ridiculously shy and embarrassed- what the frag is happening to him? He's PROUD and ALOOF and a SPACER and- Oh my Primus his spark is beating a astromile a minute. "..." He swallows, throat dry, and manages to stutter, "I... I learned a lot f-from you... You trained us well and... and..."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught leans in, tapping his forehelm against Blast Off. "I'm a lucky mech," he says. "I've been blessed with excellent taste in teammates." He pauses, facemask flexing.

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off quiets, permitting himself to simply enjoy the sensation of Onslaught so close. He slowly smiles, just a little bit, and leans in to rest his forehead against the other Combaticon. His own optics dim as he can both feel Onslaught's energy field and pushes a little bit of his own back in return. "We... do certainly have a good group. You have some strange but amazing way of herding petro-cats, I'd even say. You just... inspire confidence. We all... we all needed it, at some point in our lives."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods, his field humming with contentment. "We all do," he says. "And you can all be a bit of a challenge, but you are most definitely worth it. Some, perhaps a bit more than others." He chuckles. "Or, worth it in different ways."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Contentment times two. Blast Off sighs, relaxing, and grins. With a soft chuckle, he agrees. "Indeed. Sometimes the greater the challenge, the greater the reward, right?"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles. "True, which means that Vortex may lead us to an incredible reward one day," he says.

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off laughs, despite himself, breaking away with a fit of the giggles at that. He brings a black hand up to cover his mouth 'politely' as he can't help but continue to chuckle awhile. "Truly spectacular. It will \*have\* to be!" He flashes another of those rare, genuine smiles most people don't get to see, leaning back in but not quite as close this time. However, he brings his hands closer to Onslaught's, fingertips brushing against the bigger mech's. "I... I admit, I... had a bit of an ulterior motive for asking you here."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught tilts his head to one side. "Oh?" he asks, amused and curious. "And...what would that be? Not planning a coup, are you?" he chuckles at the very idea.

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off grins again, still chuckling. "A coup? Well..." He has to think about that a moment, "A coup requires planning, you know. A LOT of planning, and probably number-crunching, and, uh, determining the mental and physical state of one's teammates, and the environmental situation, and...and time. It takes \*time\* to plot the perfect Commander coup, after all~," he says with a lilt in his voice as he gazes adoringly up at his Commander. Then he looks down again, and strokes a finger against Onslaught's. "All those things I learned from you. I'd want you to be \*proud\* of how I did it, after all, right?"

He quiets some, "Yeah, it...it would take me some time. But in the \*meantime\*..." He looks back up. "I-" Now he looks slightly nervous again. "I thought maybe we could go on a... a...." The words seem to slow, then stop, as nerves rack up.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods, sagely. 'I would be most cross if you attempted a half-formed coup against me," he says, brushing his thumb over Blast Off's cheek. "Should the day come, I demand an excellently formed, well-plotted coup."

"A...what?" he asks, optics flickering with curiosity. "..is somethign wrong?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off nearly purrs at the touch, leaning into it. "Oh, absolutely, Sir. I'd \*never\* do anything except the \*best\*, most devastatingly well-plotted coup for you. I'd-I'd make it one all of Cybertron would be speaking of for vorns afterwards! You'd be quite proud of me."

He stops as Onslaught looks worried. "No! No, I just...!" He closes his mouth, tight-lipped, then opens it again as if to speak, but it take a moment for words to come out again. He again looks down, chin tucking to his purple chest, then flicks his gaze back up. "I..." He sounds uncharacteristically shy. "I...I just thought while you're here, we could.." He swallows, "Well, just, if we're... you know, we could, uh..." GULP. "Go on a..." He says the next word very quietly and rushed. "...date."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods. 'I want any coup attempt against me to end up in the textbooks at the Academy," he says, then blinks. "A date? I...well, yes, I suppose we probably should do that. It is rather the sort of thing couples are supposed to do, at least according to my...err...research." Romance novels. He's been reading romance novels. Got a lot of good recommendations from a guy on the Big Conversation.

**Blast Off has posed:**
"Yes!" Blast Off perks up, clasping both hands together in front of him, "Exactly! Research!" His gaze flicks up towards the loft, likely where some romance novels lie hidden under his berth, then back to Onslaught. "I've... been researching it, too, and it..ha, well yes, it does." Now he bites his lower lip and straightens up completely, hands still clasped in front of his chest. "It...it seems like that's what couples... do. Dates. With, uh, for starters, well drinking can be involved at times..." He picks up a wine glass and offers to pour some enerwine in it- only the best enerwine in the shop, of course.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods his agreement. "A drink would be nice, yes," he says. "And...well, what else would we do? The theatre, perhaps? Or a concert?" He frowns. "...there are poetry recitals but too many of them are simply poor immitations of Megatron's work -- so a copy of a less than brilliant original."

**Blast Off has posed:**
The shuttleformer's optics widen and brighten as Onslaught lists the possibilities. "Oh, yes!" He quickly agrees, nodding even more enthusiastically at each suggestion. Seems any of these would be absolutely thrilling to him. Blast Off pours Onslaught that drink, then pours one of his own. Lifting it up, he offers a toast. "To...us. Dating."

That warm tint to his cheeks flares again briefly as he smiles. "I'd love any of those. Tonight, though, I was thinking something more... quiet. To start. If that sounds good? I..." He gets up and reaches behind the counter to pull out a box. "I thought we could have a fancy dinner, and... and maybe go up on my balcony and... look at the stars." He /really/ hopes that doesn't sound stupid. Is it stupid? Maybe it's stupid. He gazes anxiously at the truck.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught considers Blast Off's idea. "By, 'fancy dinner' I presume you don't mean a bag of Cobalt Crunchies and some energoodies?" he asks, sounding mock disappointed. "I think I would like that, though I'm not much on astronomy -- you're going to have to educate me."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off gives Onslaught a mock exasperated look, then grins and chuckles as he opens the box. "I am afraid not, my good Sir. I have brought to you some of the top of the line quartz hors d'oeuvres, to be followed with a most \*excellent\* energon dish that was steeped in silica with just a touch of asteroid sulphur for that extra smoky, spicy taste!" He displays the contents with a proud flourish, still grinning. Placing the box in front of them and starting to arrange the contents of this feast before them he nods, grin fading to a soft smile. "I'd... like that."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught blinks at the refined fare being set before him. "Oh my," he says. "This looks delicious, Blast Off. Where did you get this from?" He reaches for an hors d'oeuvre, then pauses. "...err, its alright to begin eating, isn't it?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off beams again, pleased as turbo-punch at Onslaught's reaction. "Most certainly! Help yourself," he says, clearing the box away and sitting down as well. Picking up a quartz treat, he rolls it in his dark fingers a moment. "I.. have had my optic on ordering this for awhile. At first I thought I'd never be able to get this, what with half the planet burning and all... but as limited production has finally begun in some new locations, well, I had connections who had connections..." Possibly connections named Swindle. He pops the snack in his mouth. "Mmm. Good, no?"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught opens a resupply port and pops a quartz treat in. There's a whirring sound as his systems process it. "Delicious!" he says. "My complements to your procurer!"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off grins, "Oh, try the shale sauce with that, it's delightful!" he adds, helping himself to some. For awhile, Blast Off says little more, enjoying the dinner- and the company. He helps himself to another glass of wine as well, also offering a refill should Ons desire. Then, finally, feeling much more full, he places his hands down on the table and looks contentedly over at Onslaught. "Was that... satisfactory?" he asks, adding, "...Be sure to save some room for dessert.~"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught likewise enjoys a companionable silence as he refuels from the repast Blast Off has prepared. "Very satisfactory," he says, his optics brightening at the mention of dessert. "Dessert? I definitely have room for that. As well as a bit more wine?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
"Absolutely!", Blast Off replies, gracefully reaching for the wine and pouring Onslaught a refill with a poise that belies his blockiness as a shuttle. Then he stands, hands grasped before him, and grins at Onslaught. "It's... an Andovarian Six Souffle." He states, cultured voice hovering between trepidation and excitement. "It's... admittedly quite difficult to do right, but I've had this one cooking for awhile... it just needs the finishing touch."

Blast Off turns to rummage behind the counter and bring out a dish, still warm, from the toasting tray he'd had it on. He carries it carefully and places it in front of Onslaught. "You... might have heard of these. They're notoriously difficult to keep light and fluffy, which is when they're their best... but there's a technique in finishing the souffle. You have to take these..." he pulls out what looks like tuning forks, "And, well..." He suddenly looks a bit uncertain, "I... maybe this is dumb. It's probably dumb..." He glances off to the side, biting at his lip, then risks a look back at Onslaught. "You have to ring these \*just so\*, in just the right tone and at just the right time, to keep it from falling flat when removed from the pan."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught watches as Blast Off brings out the desert. "I've heard of them but I've never had one," he said, optics following Blast Off's movements. 'It looks delicious as it is."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off grins, nodding. "It does, indeed. But cut into it right now and it would fall flat. Use \*this\*..." Here he tries to hand a 'tuning fork' to Onslaught, "and keep the notes undulating \*just so\* and the souffle stays up. It's... well, it's quite mathmatical, really, while edging into art... even the build of the universe itself. Have you heard of the "Golden Ratio", 1.618? When you strike the forks, like so..." Here Blast Off delicately taps the fork, causing a wavering hum, and listens carefully to it. "...it undulates in what the Andovarians called the Golden Wave.... hear how it rings out almost like it's getting louder and covering more ground as it goes? You have to time it just right, when it's circled exactly 1.618 times, and strike again, like so." Here he concentrates, and taps at what he hopes is \*just\* the right time and....

The souffle looks like it just sank a little. OOoops. The shuttleformer stops and stares, cringing a moment. "Er..." He coughs, then gestures to his Commander. "How about you? Surely you can do better?" He lifts an optic ridge, a soft smile returning as he issues a friendly challenge.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught listens attentively as Blast Off explains the physics and art of the souffel. "Facinating!" he says. The fact that the souffle fell just a smidge doesn't seem to bother him in the least. "Errl, well, I...now? I mean, I do accept your challenge and shall endeavor to do my best to motivate our dessert to live up to its fullest potential!"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off nods, smile still there. He crosses his arms and... waits. His smile grows wider. "There's a touch of math and an innate understanding of numbers required to get it just right. I know you'll show that souffle who's Boss..."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught holds out his hands for the tuning forks. "Indeed I shall!" he says, chuckling as he says it. "I'll have you know, I scored in the top five percent of my class at the Academy in mathematics."

**Blast Off has posed:**
"I am not surprised," Blast Off purrs, "I'm a space shuttle, so of course I can crunch numbers and calculate trajectories and remaining fuel sources and all sorts of useful things, but you've got a grasp on these numbers I've never seen in a truck before."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught hrumphs. "Yes, well, trucks frequently need math -- calculating fuel ratios and of course, in my capacity as leader, I need to be able to maintain our supply budgets and..." He strikes the first tuning fork and waits what he hopes is the right amount of time to strike the second one. As the souffle shrinks down he hrumphs again. "...well, slag..."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off winces as the souffle falls again. "Hrmm." Shoot, he was hoping for success there. Still, not all is lost... He moves in closer to Onslaught, studying the situation, then smiling up at his leader. "That's true. And you keep track of both vehicles on and off the ground... it's quite complicated. Of course, you have \*me\* around to help you." There's a crooked lift to his grin as he allows just a bit of that shuttle ego to shine. Now he focuses on the souffle again, tilting his head. "Try again... maybe closer to it this time. We'll either make this a \*complete\* disaster or snatch triumph out of the jaws of defeat!"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught looks slyly at Blast Off. "Are you sure a simple truck like myself should be trusted with such a delicate maneuver?" he teases, tapping the first fork and holding it closer to the souffle pan. "...alright, here, you do the second one...perhaps a team effort will bring us closer to success?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off grins back. "I suppose sometimes one must shove aside societal norms and try the unexpected..." He holds his own 'tuning fork' closer to the dessert at Onslaught's suggestion. His tone drops and grows more earnest. "And you certainly know how to pull off the 'unexpected'." He flashes a genuine smile at his Boss, then that slightly saucier look returns to his face as he gives it a try, his own music-making instrument starting to humm in harmony with Onslaught's.

Hmmm-mmmMMMMMM-hmmmmm-MMumum! The souflle wobbles, shivers, shakes and then.... poof! With the joined harmonies timed \*just so\*, the souffle sets and looks \*marvelous\*!

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught's optics brighten with delight. "We did it! Mission accomplished! There are no finer words than those, my friend!" he says, clapping Blast Off on the back with the appropriate level of force for a shuttleformer. His hand rubs in a slow, easy circle. "Mission accomplished," he repeats. "Shall we indulge in the spoils of victory?"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off ha-HAs! at the victory, grinning at Onslaught, then leaning into the touch of the larger mech's hand on his back, the tailfin between his own shoulder 'blades' wagging slowly back and forth in contentment. "Indeed there are not!" He reaches for his wine glass and clinks it to Onslaught's, "To our ever-lasting victory! Let us take no prisoners, leave not a trace of our foe behind!" He grins and leans in to cut the souffle with a dinner knife, the dessert staying aloft, light, and delicious-looking the whole time. The shuttleformer carefully takes a slice and places it in front of Ons, then takes one of his own. Yum.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught laughs, delightedly. "Indeed! No mercy! We will wipe the hated enemy from existence!" he says, reaching for a spoon and beginning to scoop souffle into his processing unit. "Oh, oh my goodness, yes. This is a battle I would gladly fight again!"

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off grins, then in a flush of comraderie he leans in towards Onslaught to bump him playfully shoulder-to-shoulder. He turns to look Onslaught in the face, still close, then blinks and seems to get suddenly shy, moving back to sit down to finish his meal. His good spirits remain, however, and he shows no mercy to their 'vanquished foe'! The souffle is soon gone, only a happy memory.

"Hear, hear!" He sighs, leaning back on his chair and lifting his glass for another toast before starting on his... what, third round of wine? Fourth? He's starting to lose track. "I imagine I can arrange that... I... I'd fight by your side any day, any night." He slumps a bit forward, hands thudding heavily on the table. "You know that, right? And I'm NOT just saying that 'cause I'm your... your... boyfriend!"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught reaches out and puts a hand over Blast Off's. "I know that," he says, softly. "You've proved that a hundred times over. Our being...boyfriends simply strengthens the bond that was already between us."

**Blast Off has posed:**
That seems to relax the shuttleformer some, and any tension in his frame fades. "Yes." Blast Off just gazes into Onslaught's face as he brings his own free hand to lightly rest on top of Onslaught's resting on his. "It still feels so odd to have this out in the open at last..." His optic ridges scrunch down slightly, "...and it feels odd being indebted to \*Vortex\* for that." Ahem. He looks back up with a chuckle-huff. "Our teammates can be exasperating at times, but they do have their own... charms." Charms, yeah, that's it.

He stays like that for a long, lingering moment, just enjoying the closeness, but then he glances up towards his loft. "I thought we might like a... a bit of stargazing. You can see some of the city from the balcony, too. It's... a place I like to just sit and be... quiet sometimes."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles. "'Charms', yes...that's one word for it," he says. "Still and all, we do owe Vortex a debt of gratitude." He follows Blast Off's gaze, toward the loft. "I'd like that. Watching the stars and a chance for a bit of quiet. My usual preference for solitude is some time down around the poles. Somethign about the cold makes it easier to think, but...yes, let's enjoy the stars. Together."

**Blast Off has posed:**
"I like the cold, too," Blast Off murmurs, "Of course with these heat shields..." He lifts his thick-plated arms and eyes them, "...I'm not too bothered by cold. Or heat. As you know." Shuttles have to be insulated, after all. He smiles, though it's tinged with a touch of bittersweet. Gazing at stars... that's something he's done with Swivel, too. He's reminded of her and feels the familiar pang of wishing there was no war; that they could all be friends and he could have Onslaught and Swivel here and maybe even the rest of his team around with no problems, no strife. If only.

"How you and I wound up with the likes of Vortex and Brawl..." He shakes his head in bemused disbelief, then looks to Onslaught, "Still, you handle the whole team superbly. I could \*not\* do that; I'm sure I'd lose my patience far too soon." He smirks, a wry expression growing as he adds, patting the guns on his legs, "I'd probably be using these far more often." What's a little (mostly) friendly shooting between comrades?

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught chuckles. "Brawl likely wouldn't notice and I think Vortex would thank you,' he says. "The cold makes things clearer, somehow. It forces things into a clarity you don't usually see in this world." He sighs, apparently feeling some bittersweetness of his own. "If it wasn't for the war, I don't know if we'd all be together. For that, at least, I'm glad of this war."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off grins as Onslaught responds, reaching to fill his glass once more and offer a refill for Onslaught, too. His expression turns thoughtful as the other Combaticon goes on, then subdued. "I feel that way when I'm in the cold of space."

He slowly swishes the liquid in his cup, gazing down at it with a mild frown. "...Yeah. That... that could be true." He looks way deep down into that purple liquid before adding, "...But... I think, even without a war, we'd still be together. Maybe not all of us all the time, true, but... but we could start a new life, one that \*we\* want." He sighs and looks out towards the window. "Not one that's dictated \*to\* us, you know?"

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods his head, acknowledging that yes, he would like a refill. "It must be beautiful up there," he says. "Being able to fly free, seeing the stars and the nebulae and, well, just all of it, really. I'll admit, I'm a wee bit jealous of you, Blast Off."

Onslaught considers Blast Off's words. "...perhaps you have a point," he says. "Swindle in particular seems to enjoy drifting in and out of our orbit, as it were."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off perks up, optics lighting with a bright fire, and he leans forward, placing his palms on the table. "You should come with me!," he blurts out, smile growing as idea forms. "Just you and me, in a trip through space. I could show you the stars!" Oh, he likes this idea! "It's quiet and cold and so much more \*peaceful\* than about anywhere here on Cybertron. I love it up there. And- I could show you." His hand reaches to touch Onslaught's.

He chuckles softly, "Yes, Swindle's spark is in his own business... I'm not quite sure he's as much a 'team player' as some of us, but, well..." He stops to think, "...To be honest I'm not sure many of us naturally \*are\* team players. Brawl maaaybe? A little? But you molded us into a team, regardless."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught perks up as well. "Yes!" he says, looking down at Blast Off's hand on his. He turns his hand, clasping Blast Off's gently. "I would like to do that. Soon." He chuckles. "No, no, I suppose we're not but for some reason, we work well together. I think perhaps we're a bit apart from the others. There's something about us that draws us together."

**Blast Off has posed:**
"I'd love to! We shall do it, then. Soon!" Blast Off happily remains holding hands as he thinks on all this. "You're right. I'm not sure what it is, but..." His face scrunches in concentration.

"All of us are... misfits, somehow. We don't... we're not..." How to put it. "We don't always know how to... play well with others. I mean, \*I\* know but I... want to do things \*my\* way. I don't like being ordered around. Neither does Vortex, Brawl, Swindle, all of us. But when we're together under your leadership we... we just click into place and get to contribute to a team while still... feeling independant? Get to use our strengths. I think because \*you\* know and value that so much, too, and we know you respect that. So we respect you. And... I think there are few people that Vortex, or Brawl, or I... probably Swindle too, respect more. It's been earned."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught beams, squeezing Blast Off's hand. "Thank you," he says. "And I respect you all as well. You're my team, my comrades, my brothers -- and, well, in our case something more." He considers, quietly for a moment. "I'm a lucky mech, luckier than I probably have a right to be. Thank you for that."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off gives one of those rare genuine smiles few get to see, then leans in to touch forehelms with Onslaught. "Thank \*you\*." He remains like that a moment before pulling away. "Heh... I better clean up. Oh! I can show you my new flamethrower, too! I'm not sure if you've had a chance to really examine that." Romantic times for a Combaticon- dinner, quiet time, and showing off weaponry! He hurries to clear the table away, leaving the drinks, of course.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught doesn't offer to help clear the table -- primarily because Blast Off moved faster than he expected. Besides, this is Blast Off's place, not his. He's not entirely sure where things might go and he knows from his own experience that people putting things back in the wrong place is...irksome. And he does not want to irk Blast Off, not after such a lovely evening. "I'd like to see it!" he says. "Whatever possessed you to request a flamethrower? not that I'm complaining, mind! Just, curious."

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off appreciates it, actually. It's not much to clean up and he's quite specific about where everything goes. He and Onslaught both share a love of things in their \*proper place\*. Once put away, he smiles- just a bit shyly- and gestures towards the stairs. "I've always had an interest, really." Ever since he read that novel about the space pirates, that is, the one where they defeated the final foe in a ring of fire. Because fire in space is totally realistic, okay?!? Okay! Ahem.

"Besides, with my heat shields I can dish out fire without being as affected by it, and..." Here he pauses, expression turning more somber. "Well... since losing my ionic blaster at Garrus-1. I'd had that for so long... it's tuned perfectly to my touch and, well, I got a new one but it's not quite the same." He sighs softly, the loss still stinging. "But I figured that I should expand my horizons, in any case."

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught tenses at the mention of Blast Off's incarceration on Garrus-1. Err...most recent incarceration there, that is. "If you'd like, we could spend some time on the range, perhaps get your replacement blaster broken in?" He pauses, nodding. "That's a good idea. Diversifying one's weapons means being more flexible in a fight. I'd like to get Vortex some blades he could wield in battle. Actual swords that could also serve him as rotors. I think he'd do well with them."

**Blast Off has posed:**
"Oooh," Blast Off responds with interest, "I imagine that he would! He'd be positively \*lethal\* with something like that. I also think he'd love it, just the concept of it." He chuckles as he moves towards the stairs, shaking his head slightly. "If he loves his rotors this much \*already\*..." Happy chopper. The shuttle pauses to turn and look back at Onslaught. "You're right, I need to be more... flexible. I can't always fight from up on high." As much as he'd like to. "Sometimes I have to fight close quarters, and..." He glances off to the side a bit sheepishly.

**Onslaught has posed:**
Onslaught nods. 'Happy? He'd be ecstatic!" he says. "And it might be a way to wean him away frmo that blasted glue gun..." He sighs, shaking hsi head. "Rotories..." He pauses again, looking thoughtfully at Blast Off. "We can train, make sure that your close quarter skills are top drawer. It'll improve your confidence in those situations as well." And keep you safe, well, safer..

**Blast Off has posed:**
Blast Off actually laughs, hand resting across his torso as his frame shakes. "That \*would\* be a miracle..." He chuckles a bit more, then turns more serious. The shuttleformer nods, looking at the larger Combaticon. "I... I'd like that." He hesitates, then steps closer to Onslaught, feeling the truck's energy field and pushing out his own in a reassuring wave. "And not \*just\* because we get to be close...." But now, he doesn't have to use it as an excuse to be close to Onslaught. He smiles, reaching for his Commander's hand as he turns to the stairs and the balcony above. It should be a lovely night.