Of course Smokescreen would be assigned to investigate the sighting of a possible Decepticon threat just outside of Iacon, because a shade image of a mech and an unknown femme had been spotted. Ultra Magnus had dispatched him without Optimus' consent, saying that it was only a routine investigation, and that their leader did not need to be bothered after whatever had happened on Earth. Of course, Smokescreen didn't need recharging after his double guard shift; not in the optics of Ultra Magnus who couldn't be bothered to ask a different Elite Guardsman to investigate because he wasn't going to check the guard shifts. Then again, it may have finally been his revenge for humiliating him in front of Optimus Prime; doing something like that would end you up in shaky ground with the commander of the Elite Guard.

Slowly pushing himself up the hill, Smoke's processor went into battle mode when he approached the top, not wanting to get himself offlined before he took a long nap until his next guard shift in a few deca-breems. Perhaps Ultra Magnus really was out to get him for his behavior. It had been almost an entire stellar cycle, and just when he thought the entire incident had blown over, he was suddenly being punished, and harshly too. Those thoughts were banished to the deepest recesses of his processor when he peered over and saw two cybertronians, one a mech, and one a femme, recharging as the mech held the femme. The two Cybertronians were out-cold as the sun which had long since risen began to warm up their frames as they snuggled one another while recharging. To Smokescreen's slight amusement, the brown femme's mouth hung slightly open as she snored softly, slowly breathing the carbon in and out as she dreamed deeply during her recharge cycle.

The white and black mech was silent, his face relaxed, and he would have appeared to have been awake if not for the fact that he was lacking his usual formidable stature, even with his two katanas sheathed on his back, sharpened and ready for whoever or whatever might come at them.

Slowly approaching the two, Smokescreen looked for the tell-tale Decepticon symbol that would give him immediate authorization to attack and apprehend the two of them for questioning, but he had only gently laid a servo on the femme when the mech's optics shot open, jerking up and leaving the femme recharging as she continued her peaceful rest.

"Who are you?" He demanded, voice low as he stood in front of the femme menacingly. Smokescreen was frozen, terrified of what the now aggressive mech might have in store from him, and thus, he did not reply. But when the white mech drew a blade so sharp it could have easily drawn energon, and pinned him to the metal ground below them with it at his throat, the Elite Guardsman knew he was in deep trouble. "I asked you a question."

Now he was irritated, and if you were at the receiving end of an angry mech's wrath and he had dangerous weapons on him, you most definitely wanted to clear out, though that was hardly an option. "What are you doing here?" He stood on Smokescreen's chassis with one ped, and drew his other blade with a terrifying ring of metal unsheathing. Surprisingly, Smokescreen's optics did not meet his in fear, and they seemed to glue themselves to the Autobrand on the unknown mech's shoulder.

Almost disbelievingly, he looked from the mech's Autobrand to his katanas, to his paintjob; and instant recognition and relief flooded through him. "Drift?" He dared to ask, dearly hoping he was not wrong about the mech's identity. After all, a fellow guardsman he had been quite close with had been offlined because he had gotten the Decepticon who held them captive mixed up with another, lower ranked officer. 'Cons had large egos, and their pride was endless.

"And you are?" The samurai asked dryly, still not moving.

The guardsman was sorely tempted to blurt his name, and rank out in a frenzied manner, though he somehow found the solace to speak calmly, even if he was slightly afraid. "Smokescreen, Elite Guardsman, Ultra Magnus' first lieutenant! You served with Optimus Prime and Rodimus Prime closely throughout the war." He said, pleading with Primus that he would be recognized by the mech.

Drift scoffed, and stood off of Smokescreen, though he remained skeptical. "You had better have a good explanation for interrupting my recharge cycle, or I might just decide that skewering you-"

"-Drift?" A tired femme's voice rung through the carbon gas as she stifled back a static-filled yawn. "What's going on? Why did you get up so early?" She complained, stretching out her stiff limbs and failing to hold back another yawn.

"This mech," Drift gestured at Smokescreen with his katana. "Woke me up because he was trying to hurt you."

Smokescreen instantly protested, holding both servos up next to his helm with the most innocent look he could muster. "No I wasn't!" He yelped, staring at Drift irritably. "Ultra Magnus sent me to investigate possible Decepticon activity. Two 'Cons were allegedly spotted on these cliffs, and the next thing I know, I'm at the end of your friend's blades, and he's fairly upset!" The samurai snorted, giving the mech a pointed look. "Okay, maybe I did reach out to see if you were recharging, but still!"

Hina scoffed. "Unless you think its us, which it isn't, we didn't see anyone else up here." Drift received a rather vicious glare from his mate before she continued, and he couldn't help but feel the need to keep his blades drawn; she looked slightly dangerous as well, and he made a mental note in the back of his processor to never rouse her from her recharge cycles ever again. "Why would Ultra Magnus think that we were Decepticons, anyways?"

His voice raised an entire octave as he spoke, looking back and forth, between Hina and Drift. "I don't know! I think he got the report because some bot with bad vision panicked, or something along those lines! I really don't know!" Smokescreen insisted, silently pleading with his optics to be rescued. "Is she an Autobot?" He asked Drift, searching for the brand that may have very well been nonexistent. "I don't see-"

"She was neutral." Drift hissed, not liking the mech's tone of voice. "And that does not matter, because she's with me, and I say that she is in the clear."

Hina sighed, standing up and walking behind Drift with such relaxation, Smokescreen was jealous that she wasn't the one being threatened. Why didn't his processor function correctly when he was lacking in proper recharge? Every mech knew to never lay a servo on a femme that you even guessed was that of another mech. Drft didn't even give her one mean glance, and it was obvious he'd rather have been recharging this time of the cycle instead of feeling pangs of anger running rampant throughout his spark as he upheld his duty to defend her.

She was upset, and seemed frustrated with the Autobot samurai. "Drift, let it go already. I'm tired, you're tired, he's definitely tired, and he didn't even mean to hurt me in the least." Hina tried to persuade the mech, but it appeared that he could not be budged from his course of action. He locked optics with Smokescreen, and the mech instantly feared for his spark, and every other part of him.
Surprising the femme, and a worried Smokescreen, Drift's swords were sheathed quicker than they could process and his arms were around the brown femme as he held her close. "I could still kill him for touching you, Hina." He said, though she could hear the soft humor returning to his voice, and she knew he wasn't entirely serious. "I would just stick you with cleaning up the body." The samurai teased her, but she rolled her optics.
"Fine way to treat your princess, hmm?" Hina remarked sarcastically, rolling her optics as she spoke. "No, he didn't do anything, Drift. Let the poor mech be." She said, looking back at Smokescreen, who had widened optics and a frozen frame. "You've scared him enough already." Hina smiled at him, waving kindly, even if the situation was a little odd. "Sorry about that... He's a little too protective of me sometimes..."

Smokescreen nodded slowly, as if he were in shock, and Drift instantly scolded her. "No I'm not! I'm just-" The white mech suddenly cut himself off after a pointed look from Hina. "A little protective over you sometimes..." He said slowly, servos raised in surrender. "But I still think-"

"Don't care." Hina said bluntly, crossing her arms and staring at him with her blank, emotionless optics as she silently pointed at the less scared Smokescreen. "Now, you're going to apologize, and then we're all going to pretend this didn't happen."

The Autobot samurai scoffed, crossing his arms and staring her down menacingly. "No, I'm not."

"Yes you are-"

"Not," he said firmly, quite sure that she would not dare to try something on him

"You have terrible manners in the morning!" Hina said irritably, flexing her servo and bringing out her infamous bo-staff. "I'm usually not fond of being denied of what I want." She said, planting the metal staff in the ground. "You're sorry."

Eyeing the weapon with his narrow optics, Drift looked at her, albeit uncertainly. "You wouldn't hit me..." He said, though he didn't sound entirely sure of himself.

Giggling as she cocked her helm to the side sweetly, Hina shook her helm to herself before brandishing the staff menacingly before Drift, and bringing it down to leave one large solid dent in his armor. Primus... he was going to be in so much pain after this. Slag him and his over-confident, constantly swelling ego.

-----

That night, after having some medic, Gemma, Drift thought her name was, remove the painfully large dent in his arm, the samurai saw fit to encourage Hina to spend the night at their penthouse unit,, and as he walked through the streets he was oblivious to everything she was seeing, and the jealousy she was feeling. Femmes glared at her as she walked by them, and Hina almost wanted to hide in his arms, even if they didn't provide much of a hiding spot from the angry optics of Cybertron's many femmes. She could hear their whispers, feel the tension in the atmosphere, and see the femmes gazing at Drift with teary optics.
"Drift?" She asked, finally bringing his attention to the staring femmes. "Why are they so- Well, um..."

He chuckled, kissing her forehelm lightly. "They're jealous, and rightly so." Drift said cockily, smiling at his mate as they stood on the side of the road. She let out an exasperated laugh, and gave him a questioning look with playful optics. "It's true! You, my princess, have my undivided attention, adoration, and romantic honor all to yourself, and don't have to share it even one little bit."

Hina laughed, and snatched his servo, pulling him across the cybertronian free street. "You're so weird, you know that?" She asked, hearing a rumble of thunder from above, and feeling a single drop of liquid (was it energon?) on her faceplate.

As the sky opened up, and the unfiltered energon poured from it, Hina shrieked, running for cover with Drift right behind her.
"It's all in the charm, Hina, it's all in the charm."

Giggling, she shook her helm and brushed the unpurified liquid off of her limbs. "Is that so, my samurai?"

"Of course!" He exclaimed, obviously speaking from his very spark as he smiled softly at her, brushing away a few stray drops from her faceplate tenderly. "After all, I am courting you, my Princess."

"Is that what it's called on Cybertron?"
Drift chuckled, kissing her forehelm once again. "Indeed it is. Indeed it is."