In the three weeks since Mirage had moved into the Solar Flare, things had gone about as expected; that is to say, more customers arrived, Starscream and Mirage bickered, and Seismic was given a better understanding (and impression) of bots in general.

It had taken all of a few days for Starscream to try his luck at welcoming and decide he was awful at it; Mirage had then delegated the task to Seismic because, "You're both incompetent, but at least she's likable." As predicted, Starscream had huffed in annoyance as Seismic grinned smugly, giving him that look of hers. To Starscream's chagrin, Mirage's words had not proven entirely false; more and more bots had come to check out the Solar Flare since Seismic had been put on both welcome and answering duty, and more and more bots had chosen to stay since he'd been removed from the picture entirely.

It should not have shocked him that business was booming for them, though; it had been several years since the war had officially ended, and while many bots had returned so far from their refuge across the galaxies, not nearly as many affordable homes had been built to house them. Because of this, impoverished families who's shuttles had landed in the area were gravitating towards the decently affordable pricing of the Solar Flare. In fact, several mechs and femmes had come to him, coolant dripping from their optics, to express their undying gratitude to the gracious owner of the apartment complex- only to widen their optics in horror when they realized precisely who owned their new home.

They knew better than to complain, though. The Solar Flare was the cheapest place most of them could find to stay, and much of Crystal City's population still thought of him as the terrifying SIC of the Decepticons; in short, many bots felt as if their lives were endangered in his presence, but they didn't really have a better option.

And the few bots who either weren't aware of the depths of his sinful past (or simply weren't afraid of him) were pushed away by his naturally unpleasant nature.

At that point, Starscream was forced to concede entirely to Mirage's point that his presence was hindering the experience of their guests, and was thus also forced to concede that he was not quite cut out for the task of owning a hospitality business.

So it was only three weeks into this whole ordeal that he found himself reluctantly  marching down the halls to find his least favorite Cybertronian, the only bot he knew who could pull off what he was about to suggest.

"Mirage," Starscream announced his presence loudly, opening the purple femme's door without pause.

"Screamer," the Grounder called in exasperation, lying on her berth with a datapad in her servos, "you'd think it would be a common courtesy to knock before you rudely barge into one's room."

"I need your help," Starscream immediately said. This piqued Mirage's attention, and she sat up in her berth to look over at him.

"Well?" She demanded as he remained silent for several seconds. "I'm busy. I don't have all day."

"Busy watching human television," Starscream muttered under his breath. Inhaling, he began, "You find this job a good fit, yes? It pays well and suits your abilities?"

Mirage nodded, and he instantly sprang it on her. "I need you to pretend to own this complex."

"Uh, no," Mirage deadpanned immediately. "You do that fine yourself."

He gave her a look, and she relented. "Okay, you don't. But why do you need me for that?"

Starscream vented, preparing for his preconceived lie. "Because... I... absolutely hate my job."

Mirage snorted. "You got yourself into this mess."

He vented again. "I did."

"So what? Get yourself out." Mirage shrugged with nonchalance that made him growl. "Your mess, your clean up."

"I have other reasons," Starscream gritted out.

The younger femme raised an eyebrow in interest. "Oh?"

"Don't make me say it." The Seeker glowered. Mirage gave him a rather amused smirk.

"I'm not making you say anything," she said innocently. "You want out of your mess, you tell me why."

Starscream very badly wanted to claw her oh-so-smug optics out of their sockets, but he refrained because it certainly wouldn't help business along. "You already know why."

She clicked her glossa. "I really don't think I do."

"I hate you with all of my spark." Starscream glared. "I want- need out because everywhere I look, I see bots who're terrified of me, of the things I've done. And while you have the reassurance that I won't snap at any moment and kill everyone-"

"I don't," Mirage interjected, but she was ignored outside from a single glare.

"-everyone else doesn't. They think I have complete control over their lives. And even though I don't, everyone inside this complex is living with that constant fear that someday I'll snap and ruin their fragile new lives. Just as Megatron did, just as I did before."

Mirage eyed the Seeker as he vented again. A brief expression of pity crossed her faceplates before she spoke, "I remain unsure of my opinion of your request."

"Could you, hypothetically, do the job if you did accept?"

Mirage considered it for an agonizing second. "I probably could. But I'd want a raise."

Starscream was desperate. "Seventy percent of all profits."

Mirage's eyebrows jumped to her forehelm. "Screamer, that's a lot of money."

"I'll do anything," He grit out. "Please."

Mirage looked at him with a strange new look in her optics as he fidgeted under her gaze and the suspense of her unmade decision. Finally, she spoke, "I'll take it."

"Thank Primus," Starscream vented with a small, rare grin at her. "Freedom."

Mirage rolled her optics but she chuckled briefly. "Sixty percent."

Starscream reached to shake her servo, then paused. "I said seventy."

Mirage dipped her helm, keeping her faceplates blank. "I know you did."

This time, Starscream was the one looking at Mirage with a strange new emotion as he stared into her questioning blue optics- and with a sudden shock, he finally registered the new color in his vision. For a moment, his processor wandered to Seismic's ridiculous theory before he immediately shut it down, shaking his helm out.

"Sixty percent." He agreed with begrudging respect in his voice, and the two shook servos.

I know this chapter was unusually short, but it's a minor plot point- meaning it's not super important right now, but it will be later. Now that Starscream and Mirage seem to have some sort of respect for each other, maybe we'll finally get somewhere with this story. I really hope you enjoyed it!

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SalixEnder03