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Oddities on Elita's new desk weren’t all that uncommon. Besides the obligatory paperwork and scattered photos of the people most dear to her, there were almost always little knickknacks she’d collected from Earth, tiny pieces of scrap metal Bumblebee was constantly forgetting whenever he came by, and occasionally a knife where her styluses were supposed to be.
So oddities on her desk didn’t usually surprise her. The Starsaber placed on her desk, however, when she had her back turned, was most definitely a surprise.
"I had a thought."
Considering the fact that she shared thoughts with the mech currently standing in front of her desk, who was desperately trying to hide a smile and failing, she couldn’t wait to hear this one.
"Do tell," she said with eyebrows lifted.
Optimus nodded. "I told you how I felt that the Starsaber was a bit cumbersome?"
"I..." She paused. "...barely remember that conversation."
To be honest, she was surprised she remembered any of it at all. That conversation had happened in the medbay on Earth, as he stayed with her briefly after the disastrous hunt for the second Omega Key.
Her hand had gripped his tight, too tight. And she had asked him to talk, to distract her from the pain, and he had obliged her that little thing. Come to think of it, she did remember one of those things being the then recently shattered Starsaber.
She couldn’t remember exactly what he had said about it, but whatever. From the looks of things, she would find out soon enough anyway.
"I was thinking," he began, trying to contain a muted excitement—in a way that was a little bit Alpha Trion and a little bit Smokescreen and altogether her beloved Orion Pax—"perhaps it could be trimmed down. I could take some of the weight off the sides, and forge it into a narrower blade."
"I thought you said the height was the problem?" she asked teasingly.
"Well, it would certainly help." His eyes narrowed. "Please hear me out."
"I am listening!"
He shook his head, but smiled. "I thought that if I trimmed the sides down, perhaps the top as well, I could even forge a new blade from the excess. A thin one, maybe."
"Oh." She gasped. "Oh." She paused to consider that, examining the Starsaber with a keen eye. "Interesting. Would it keep the power of the Matrix?"
"I am not sure. I...had not considered that."
She shrugged. "Either way, I’m sure it would turn out impressive."
There was a moment, just a brief silence, before he broke it with a quiet question, "Do you think you could use a blade like that?"
And that was where he managed to, however briefly, make her spark skip a beat entirely.
"I’m sorry?" she asked.
"I know you hate the blade, my love," he began, "but I heard that, in your hand, the Starsaber is as powerful as it is in mine. I want you to have a piece of it." He looked away, sighed, and added, "This way, if ever you are in danger and I am not there to help, you can have it to rely on."
He said that in earnest, briefly forgetting entirely that their great war was behind them. It was hard, after several million years, to leave old habits behind, to let go of old ways of thinking and embrace the change that came with new beginnings.
She still thought in battle strategies. He still had an ancient Iaconian database running through his head. They both still thought of creative ways to protect each other, their team, their two worlds and their family, from threats they could only feel in the air on nights they couldn’t sleep.
And late at night, when all-too-familiar panic clawed at their sparks, all they could do was sit upright and think, Primus, how easy it would be to lose what little we have.
She walked around the desk to face him better, look him in the eyes and gently caress his cheek, reassure him without words, I’m here, I’m here. She wasn’t even going to tell him that she didn’t need the sword to protect herself—even the illusion of protection, safekeeping, might do them both some good.
"You spoil me, darling," she whispered, "but I would love that."
He looked like he might have said more. Maybe he would say it, when they got to working with the Starsaber in earnest. But for now, he reveled in her presence and adoration, kissing her palm without another word.
"Uh..."
They whirled around.
"Bad timing?" Wheeljack asked, standing wide-eyed in the doorway with a datapad in his hand.
They were maybe three seconds away from shooing Wheeljack out when they both thought about that. Because really, who better to help them with reforging a legendary weapon than their team's makeshift weapons specialist?
They shared a brief look.
‘...Ironhide?’ she suggested.
‘Perhaps if he was here, love.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know.’
"Actually, your timing could not have been better," Optimus declared. "Please. We would like your advisement on a certain matter."
Wheeljack shrugged, but when they stepped back to reveal the Starsaber, his eyes bulged.
As if he knew what they were about to ask of him.