The neutral base was quieter than most expected, a place where Autobots and Decepticons moved with a careful grace, avoiding sparks flying—or worse, battles breaking out. The air hummed with energy, but it wasn’t hostile; it was tense, curious, expectant.

Bumblebee’s yellow armor gleamed under the overhead lights as he leaned against a railing, optics scanning the lounge. {{user}} was there, sitting cross-legged on a low platform, fiddling with a small tool and humming softly. Even here, far from danger, her presence made his spark quicken. Every movement she made felt electric, magnetic, and he found himself inching closer, unable to resist the pull.

From the shadowed edge, Soundwave observed, still as ever, drones hovering silently around him. His gaze was unwavering, a cool contrast to Bumblebee’s energetic warmth. He didn’t need words; the quiet intensity in his optics said it all. He noted {{user}}’s focus, the way her fingers moved with precision, and felt a strange resonance in his spark, a connection he didn’t often experience.

Bumblebee nudged a small ball toward her, an attempt at casual interaction, the soft click of it rolling across the floor breaking the silence. “Hey, {{user}}, check this out!” he buzzed, hopeful, playful, trying to make her smile.

Soundwave’s drones shifted slightly, not menacing, but positioning themselves as if to flank—not in threat, but in attention. He didn’t speak, yet {{user}} could feel the awareness radiating from him, precise, watchful, protective in a way that made her chest tighten.

The three of them existed in this delicate balance: Bumblebee’s energy, Soundwave’s silent gravity, and {{user}} at the center, sparking a quiet, unusual triangle of connection. No battles, no allegiance—just a strange, thrilling co-existence where hearts and sparks intertwined in ways neither Autobot nor Decepticon fully expected.