Drift vented heavily, waiting by the bar and drinking yet another round of Visco as his patience dwindled. If that Prime didn't show up soon, he'd personally teach him a lesson, while overcharged, behind Maccadam's.

The samurai honestly knew that wasn't why he was drinking so heavily, because he wasn't really all that concerned with his friend's tardiness; it wasn't really anything out of the ordinary for Rodimus, mostly due to his ego always swelling and swelling every second.

According to the young Prime, timelines, curfews, rules, and any other restrictions weren't for someone of his stature, though usually Optimus brought down his pride quite a few notches with a mere glance, or a few words of disapproval as he criticized the younger Prime. Rodimus meant well, he always did, but in the week that had passed since his return, Drift had begun to realize that as much as he wanted to go with Rodimus as his third in command, as much as he wanted to roam the universe freely, and enjoy every minute of it, Hina needed him first, and foremost. Rodimus and his team would depart in a few stellar cycles, which would seem like quite a bit of time, and it was during that time that his service to Optimus would officially expire, but not enough for Hina, an alien to his culture, to adjust, and grow accustomed to the lifestyle she would live for all her time on Cybertron.

There had to be a way for him to break this gently to his friend. Rodimus had been bitter about him not joining his team vorns ago, but that was nothing compared to Drift flat out refusing his offer to join him while searching the stars for whatever it was Rodimus was looking for. Drift was far too overcharged to remember, and to really care all that much. So when Rodimus plopped down in a seat next to him, Drift looked at the mech with sunken optics that could have chilled Optimus Prime to his very spark, especially if Drift's optics had turned red, just as they had been when he was Deadlock.

Rodimus, however creeped out by Drift's drunken appearance, was fortunate enough this Drift's optics did not change color, and remained only a slightly darker shade of blue than usual. Astounded by his friend's condition, he checked his internal time module, but he was only a few breems late! How in the name of Primus had Drift gotten so slagging drunk so quickly? He knew his friend, and unless he was mistaken, Drift had been here a long time before they were supposed to meet. "You look like scrap." Rodimus said truthfully, not even bothering to sugarcoat his opinion. Optimus was usually the one who was good at that kind of stuff. Rodimus, though a pain in the aft sometimes, was more straightforward, and did not like to put up with the gibberish and formalities his superior went through,

Drift, though he seemed almost entirely wasted, was mostly just stressed, and only halfway to being drunk. "How polite of you, Rodimus." He retorted knowingly, getting back into the usual routine with his good friend. "I always knew that amongst all your Hot-Rod nature, you had a little bit of Optimus Prime in your spark." His voice dry, Drift chuckled at his own witty humor until Rodimus whacked him upside the helm.

The former street-racer grinned as the samurai rolled his optics irritably, knowing that despite his sometimes annoying behavior, Rodimus was truly a good friend, which was he hoped Rodimus understood what he was going to say. He felt horrible that he had to rain on his friend's parade, but he'd do anything for Hina, his perfect little Princess. "So, not that I'm not happy to see you," The Prime began, finally cutting to the chase. "But what's the deal Drift? You seemed pretty upset about something when we spoke this morning." Rodimus' tone was that of pure, unfiltered, true concern that only a best friend would offer to another. "Did something happen?"

Drift almost snorted aloud, but he just barely managed to keep it to himself, taking in a large amount of _ before he finally let his secret loose. This was not something he could sugar coat; not with his best friend, or it might seem like he was acting shady and secretive. "Hina returned from her brief stay on Earth, and Ratchet panicked once she returned because of a problem with her programming that he had missed somehow." He began, not missing the shock written across Rodimus' faceplate as he spoke. "Apparently, she's going to have a few other episodes like this, and it might get pretty bad for her." Okay, maybe he was coming up with a few excuses, but that was a fairly valid reason in his processor!

"Is she alright though? Programming viruses aren't something to mess around with, I sure as Pit know that!" Rodimus exclaimed, his voice a whisper, but still full of alarm. Unfortunately, Rodimus' carrier hadn't been in the best of conditions when he was conceived, and that had given him quite a few problems growing up with his single creator, not having as much accessibility to medical luxuries some upperclass cybertronians had, and forced to deal with his constant desire to get himself into trouble; a glitch with his programming as a calm, collected mech as he was supposed to be.

Drift nodded slowly, still distracted by the panic Ratchet had cast upon him after being hit with several abnormally heavy wrenches as the medic chewed him out. "She'll mostly be alright, but that is part of the problem, and why I came to speak with you about something." The samurai finally admitted, feeling his strength crumble.

Nodding, Rodimus encouraged him on, looking at him with understanding optics. "Of course, It's undoubtedly important, or you wouldn't have comm-linked me last night."

Oh Primus... Now Drift felt horrible for what he was going to say to his best friend. As much as he didn't want to, and as selfish as he felt, he rapidly spoke his mind in a single exhale of carbon-based gas. "I cannot come with you on your voyage across the stars." He said, spark beating wildly in fear of his friend's reaction. He hated blowing off Rodimus again, he really did, but Hina, though he didn't doubt that Optimus would take her in, needed him to be there. Mechs would harass her, femmes would crowd around the new addition to their circle, and she would be helpless to stop it all.

Of course, he couldn't really stop rampaging femmes if he tried, but he'd rather Hina's origins be hidden from Elita, and anyone who did not truly need to know her deep secrets. Besides, trusting Elita-One and trusting Optimus Prime were two entirely different things in Drift's processor, and he knew that he was not alone in that particular belief. Rodimus strong voice broke his train of thought, and Drift realized that he had probably been staring blankly at Rodimus for awhile now. "You're overcharged." He said simply, as if there was no other explanation for his behavior.

Oh, he was a horrible friend, and he knew it too! "I am not. And you know it Hot Rod," He said, only to earn a blank stare from the Prime beside him. "I am sorry, I really am, Rodimus."

The bright red mech nodded, looking at his friend with a surprisingly understanding faceplate. "Yeah, I know." Rodimus' voice didn't waver, and he gave Drift a small smile as he clapped a servo on his back. "You'll be welcome as long as I command the mission. I'll always need my second lieutenant." Drift nodded, standing to leave Maccadam's with a smile on his faceplate.

"Thank you, Rodimus. I could not have a better friend." He said gratefully, standing up to leave as said mech waved him off, finishing off his last round of Visco, Drift hadn't felt very off-balance while he'd been sitting, but as soon as he walked out into the morning sunlight, he was momentarily blinded as his optics adjusted to see properly after having been in a dark, artificially lit building.

If he was honest with himself, Drift actually felt kind of tipsy, and the high-grade he'd had was already beginning to settle in his systems. If he was lucky, he might be able to make it to the medical bay Hina was at, or to Optimus Prime's usual thinking spot most mornings. No doubt about it, Ratchet would not want a drunken mech around Hina while she recovered from the reprogramming procedure Ratchet had been forced to perform a few solar cycles ago. Optimus' thinking spot it was then, Drift decided, transforming and heading through the streets of Iacon, trying to desperately retain semblance of mind.

-----

I am one lucky slagger, Drift mentally declared, seeing his commander sitting in the isolated square with the statue of Sentinel Prime in the dead center. The once respected Prime had long since been forgotten since his death, the one that had truly started the Autobot and Decepticon's Great War. Unfortunately, his luck ran out as he stumbled across the empty yard and sprawled, flat out on the ground some ways away from Optimus. Oh, Pit... Rodimus had been right; Drift was inexplicably and foolishly overcharged, and now he'd humiliated himself in front of his Prime and military commander in a public, though deserted, place.

Optimus, who had been staring at Sentinel's statue with a forlorn expression, heard the crash of Drift hitting the ground, and looked up in shock to see his friend laying on the ground, unmoving. "Drift?" He asked warily, going over to see if the samurai was alright.
"Aaaarghh," He mumbled, rolling over and looking at Optimus with an amused expression. "Rodimus was so right." Drift sounded highly amused, as if he hadn't just been a jerk and rejected the kind offer from the mech himself.

Confused, Optimus looked around, not seeing the tell-tale red and orange mech. "I... do not understand." The Prime finally admitted, watching as the Autobot samurai struggled to sit up.

"I am majorly overcharged." The mech burst into laughter, trying and failing to stand several times in a row before giving up.
Now Optimus understood what exactly was going on. Whenever Drift and Rodimus spent time with one another, the young Prime always edged the more responsible mech to do something foolish, and it seemed like Rodimus convinced Drift that drinking in the early morning was a fine idea, once again. "Indeed you are. Perhaps Ratchet should take a look at you. You have had far too much Visco, Drift."

Staggering, Drift allows Optimus to help him to the medical center Hina was recharging in. "It isn't my fault that Rodimus likes the stuff." He mumbled incoherently, and Optimus began to understand why huaman rolled their eyes so often. Sometimes, a man, woman, mech or femme, could be incredibly foolish when it came to certain topics of activity.

"If you would like for Hina to enjoy her time on Cybertron, I would not suggest staggering around, overcharged, because you and Rodimus, or some other mech, made a foolish bet, and you were able to consume more high-grade, my friend." Optimus advised, trying to make the usually reasonable mech see logic once more. "This sort of behavior is bad enough when it comes from cybertronians you do not know, but she would be quite alarmed to see it coming from you."

Snorting, as if he were back to his normal routine, Drift spoke once more, his words becoming less difficult to understand. "I do want her to like it here, because I like it here, and Cybertron-"

"-Does not need you overcharged, Drift." Optimus said, tone indicating that their line of conversation was over.

Sighing, even though he knew the Prime was right, Drift scowled, only saying one thing before he went silent. "No more Visco." He complied, even though he knew eventually some mech would convince him to try another round. Ratchet chewing his aft out for misbehavior once again would most definitely not be any fun, this he was certain of.

-----

Now sober, though sore from the transfusions Red Alert had done to remove his frame of any remnants of the high-grade, Drift walked through the halls of the medical center after having gotten permission to bring Hina home to his temporary penthouse in Iacon. Ratchet demanded that he keep close tabs on the femme until he was sure that nothing would go wrong, and that meant Drift would have to stay in touch with him, even if he wasn't in Iacon.

Having memorized the route to her room, which was slightly terrifying in his mind, Drift walked past flirty femme medics without a second glance, his only focus on the door he could just imagine. When he finally did walk through the doorway without knocking, the samurai saw Hina sitting on the side of the berth as she kept her optics shut, a smile on her faceplate as she bobbed her helm to the music that was no doubt blasting in her audio receptors. Obviously, his girlfriend liked her music loud and fresh, which he couldn't criticize her for, because he was the same was when it came to his own music.

Gently, Drift sat beside her, slowly wrapping an arm around her shoulders, careful not to disturb Hina as she continued to sway to whatever she was listening to. Unfortunately, either she was still panicked about Lockdown, bored out of her ever loving processor, or Primus forbid she was lonely, Hina immediately responded to his gentle half-embrace, pulling off her white helmphones and smiling at her samurai fondly. "Hey, Drift. Ever think that I might need company up here in Ratchetville?" She asked teasingly, falling right back into their playful routine.

Drift, being the sarcastic mech he was, rolled his optics and gave her a cheap smile as he stared at her skeptically. "Not really." He lied smoothly, holding Hina closely as she giggled. "I just got permission to rescue you from here for no reason." Amused, he watched as her jaw dropped, and she stared at him with unseeing optics. "You can stay here if you w-"

"NO!" She shrieked, standing up in an instant and pulling him to his peds. "Get me out of here you crazy mech! Before Ratchet comes back!" She insisted, practically dragging the stumbling mech into the hallway. "Do you have a plan for after the part where we leave?"

"Well, I was thinking." Drift began, guiding her towards the doors leading out, once again ignoring the stares of all the Autobot femmes around them.

Hina snorted, rolling her optics at him. "You were thinking? Oh Primus, this should be interesting."

"Shut up!" He said defensively, looking almost appalled, but they both knew he was only messing with her, trying to guilt trip her for insulting him in an equally teasing manner.

"So what exactly were you thinking, Drift?" She asked, genuine curiosity radiating from her entire frame.

"You haven't gotten to actually see the planet yet." Drift said knowingly, pausing in front of a tinted door that she couldn't see through. Grasping one handle firmly, he pushed the doors open, and watched as Hina's optics widened more than he'd ever seen before. She walked out of the medical center slowly, almost afraid that the entire scene before her was an illusion.

Smiling, Drift stood right behind her, and leaned down to whisper in her audio receptor his carefully thought out words. "Welcome to Cybertron."