Work Text:
“All right,” Lancer conceded. “I'll admit this planet isn't all hideous.”
Lancer and Greenlight sat side-by-side in alt-mode, in the shelter of one of the structures the humans called a parking garage, watching the road outside - or at least, they were supposed to be watching the road. But the small grove of trees on the other side of the road had drawn their attention as soon as the sun came up.
Something had turned the trees' normally green leaves to the colors of fire. Vivid red and soft gold shifted in the breeze, changing colors with every movement; whenever a slightly stronger gust of wind swept through, little splashes of crimson and orange drifted down to the ground. Against the backdrop of the city’s concrete and steel, the trees seemed out of place, a remnant of another time or even another planet, a pulse of color that drew the optic no matter how hard you tried to focus.
Somehow, the humans themselves were ignoring the phenomenon, hurrying past in cars or on foot without slowing down. Lancer supposed they might be used to it, but even then, she would have expected them to stop and look. A few of them glanced up, but none of them lingered; she wondered if maybe humans’ organic optics couldn’t detect the colors, keeping them from seeing the real beauty of their local flora.
“The datanet says it's a natural seasonal process that happens once a year,” Greenlight reported. “The leaves stop replacing their chlorophyll and start developing anthocyanin and carotenoids.”
If they had been in alt-mode, Lancer would have turned to stare at Greenlight. “Do you know what any of those words mean?”
“Chlorophyll's green, anthocyanin's red, carotenoids are yellow,” Greenlight answered promptly. “Beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. Just part of the tree’s natural life cycle, I guess, though you wouldn’t think trees would need to change colors. They’re not like those animals that have to attract a mate – at least, I don’t think they are.”
“Huh.” Lancer made a note of the different substance types to look up later. “Well, whatever they're for, they're beautiful. They remind me of the Sonic Canyons - you remember those sunsets?”
“How could I forget?” Greenlight's voice went soft and dreamy. They'd only had one date in the Sonic Canyons before it had become a battleground, but the canyon sunsets had been legendary for a reason. “You’re right. Same colors, and when the wind shifts you even get the ripples.”
“Might make a good date night, if we could find more of them. There was that forest on the drive up here last month, remember?” Lancer settled back on her tires, watching an iridescent-feathered bird flutter in and out of the trees. Even in a city filled with glass and metal and traffic lights, organic life sprouted. “We could go down there, if there’s a decent drive lane, and see if they’ve got other colors.”
“That’d be nice.” Greenlight hummed her engine lightly. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone on a real date. The datanet says the leaves are seasonal, though, so we’d have to go soon.” A vehicle sped past, going faster than it was supposed to in this city sector; the birds fluttered up in a panic and then settled back down into the trees. “Maybe if we catch this Decepticon today…”
“That’s a big if. I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary except…” Reluctantly, Lancer turned her attention back to the street as something occurred to her. “What color was that car that just came screaming through?”
“…Really bright orange,” Greenlight said slowly, clearly coming to the same conclusion Lancer had. “And moving a little too fast for a human – Scrap!”
Lancer skidded backward out of her parking space so fast she left tire tracks on the concrete and took off toward the road, with Greenlight right behind her. “You call it in, I’ll get him on radar – watch the curb!”
An audible thunk told her that Greenlight hadn’t quite cleared the curb. “Guess that date’s going to have to wait!”
“Not if we catch this ‘Con,” Lancer said, and gunned her engine.
In her rearview mirror, she caught a glimpse of leaves floating down to the street in the wake of the speeding cars. With any luck, there would still be a few left on the trees when they got back.
