By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I grew up watching G1 so when a friend asked me to write her a G1 fic I simply could not refuse. Hope you guys like it.

It's weird how people, human and Transformer alike, take things for granted. Take today for example. It's a beautiful day by anyone's standards. The sky is clear, the sun is shining, everything looks great. It's the kind of day where one can simply sit in some empty parking lot and bask in the sheer joys of irresponsibility. Trust me, if there's something I know about it's being irresponsible. Today is a great day but how often do we really appreciate days like this? War puts things in perspective. It's only when you're threatened with losing days like this forever that you come to realize how much you appreciate them in the first place. Trust me, if there's another thing I know about it's being underappreciated.

Primus works in mysterious ways. I mean He makes you as a good-natured prankster, the kind of bot who takes things with a light fluid pump and a good comeback. As a little practical joke of His own though, Primus gives you a twin brother who's a vain, self-centered slaghead. Pretty good joke, huh? I feel my engine hum slightly, the rush of air through my exhaust mimicking what most humans would call a "sigh". Sunstreaker's still stuck in the med bay. We were out doing recon and, like always, we had an argument. Sunny doesn't exactly have good relationship skills. I'm pretty much the only one who gets him because I'm the only one who understands there's more to get than what you see. Anyways, we got ambushed by some Cons during the middle of said argument and Sunstreaker got pretty banged up. I've been sitting in the med bay so much I might as well have become Ratchet's personal assistant. It's not like I can help it. Sunny's my brother even if we get into a scrap with each other every other solar cycle.

Ratchet's the one who told me I should get out. He said I was going to blow a gasket if I kept myself shut up in the med bay. The way I see it, he'd probably blow one before me. The poor mech is just like Prowl, both having their servos wound too tight. So now I'm out in this deserted parking lot trying not to think about the fact that my brother's still injured. I guess I'm doing a pretty lousy job of that too.

A lot of bots don't get Sunny and don't get why I can stand him like I can. It's true that Sunstreaker can be a royal pain in the tailpipe. I always wonder just how exactly someone with a name like "Sunstreaker" can be so cold and callous. I'm sure lots of bots have thought the same thing. It's not just that though. Most people look at our relationship and see a horribly mismatched pair. Everything I am is what Sunny isn't and vice versa. Some humans have a concept called "yin and yang". I'm surprised Autobots don't have the same theory and call it "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe". It doesn't matter though that we fight and argue. It doesn't matter that he never laughs at any of my jokes of that he practically acts like we weren't cast from the same mold. We're brothers, twins even. When I get hurt, Sunny feels bad about it. Most of the others can't tell of course but I can. Sure Sunstreaker can be a vain, arrogant slaghead but he's my brother. You don't just disown your brother because he's a jerk. You appreciate your brother because at least you've got one and that's better than some can say.

There's a blip on my scanners as Sunstreaker pulls into the parking lot. He shouldn't be up. I'm sure he's still a little dinged up from that ambush even though Ratchet fixed all the major stuff. Of course, Sunny wouldn't let a little thing like that stop him from parading around. He's got too much pride to admit that he should still be taking a recharge instead of flaunting his good looks everywhere.

"You're in my spot," informs Sunstreaker through the com-link as he parks next to me.

"Didn't see your name," I tell him glibly.

"It's the spot that gets the most sunlight," explains Sunstreaker, "It's mine." If I was in robot mode, I'd roll my optics.

"I figured you wouldn't want people seeing you in your condition," I tease him.

"Please," scoffs Sunny, "Anyone who sees me should feel privileged despite what condition I'm in." Neither of us says anything for a little bit.

"Sunny, about that fight we had," I tell him, "Are we cool?" Sunstreaker huffs. Even though he's the rudest bot I've ever met, he's still my brother and I still care about him. I just want to make sure he's not still mad at me.

"You need to stop associating with Jazz before that Earth slang completely infects your lexicon," informs Sunstreaker.

"Ooo, 'lexicon'," I fire back, "You pick that one up from Prowl?" I can tell he's smiling. Sure he's not in robot mode and sure he'd never let me see it even if he was but I can still tell.

"I suppose that we 'are cool'," decides Sunny, "Although I must admit that I am always 'cool'."

"Does your coolness extend to corrupting your own lexicon with Earth slang?" I ask him.

"Ha," replies Sunstreaker, "I am so cool that it doesn't even matter whose slang I use. When I use it, it automatically becomes cool." I smile under my hood and I can tell he sees it. We see everything that goes on between us. It's not really something you can explain. It's just something brothers do and I've come to appreciate it.