[TRANSFORMERS: ANIMATED] The Fanfiction Community

Sparring in the friendly way

ishimura — Thu, 13 Dec 2012 12:49:16 GMT

Title: Sparring in the friendly way
Fandom: Transformers Animated (TFA)
Characters: Prowl, Optimus
Prompt: "Optimus, Prowl, sparring"
Genre: Friendship, fluff, humor
Rating: PG
Warnings: Snarking
Disclaimer: Transformers Animated is not my property.

"Prowl?! Prowl?!"

His helmet lolled to the sound of the call. A rough, scraping noise came from behind him and his fingers dragged across fine debris. Suddenly, his sensors registered a presence next to him, somebody kneeling close. The next moment they shook, if gently, his shoulder and he winced when pain flared from both his back and head. He groaned in thanks when the movement stopped instantly. As carefully as he could he leaned forward and clutched at his throbbing forehead.

"What hit me?"

"That would have been me." The sheepish tone came from Prowl's right and he turned his head toward the Prime's worried faceplates. Oh, he remembered that uppercut – as did his neck it seemed when the throbbing flared to a sharp pain, his body automatically straightening up. A large hand palmed his shoulder, not moving, just the weight lying next to a black fairing; Prowl drew several in-vents and he released each one in a measured ex-vent, using the warmth of the limb as a focus point to relax his clamping muscle cables.

At last the headache lessened with the plating loosening around his fuel and neural lines. This was also helped by the alert messages disappearing one by one save for the five glaring the angriest at him.

Their scarlet color reminded the ninja-bot of Ratchet.

Well. The gist of them actually told him he would need to see the medic – he sported several fractures in the struts of his right arm and some loosened relays and connectors. Probably for that reason he hadn't noticed any pain from said limb. When he tried moving his fingers, he received no feedback.

He just wished his back and processor would pay him the same consideration.

"Prowl, do you need anything?"

Prime's hand was still lingering on his back. Prowl directed a slightly exasperated but fond smile at the truck as his optics focused on him. He used his left hand to rearrange his broken arm across his lap.

"I'm mostly fine. This was my fault, because I wasn't paying attention. I'd appreciate if you tell me how I damaged my arm, however, because we will need for later an explanation for one very irate medic."

The taller bot winced; Prowl was empathic to the reaction. He could already hear the tirade both of them would be downed under as soon as they arrived back home.

"Well, when I punched you," Prime rubbed the back of his neck after he had removed his hand, revealing the scratches on his forearm which had been inflicted by Prowl's shurikens in their spar. "It threw you back against the wall. Unfortunately, a pipe was emerging from that spot and your arm landed right on it."

"I see."

He frowned as he gingerly fondled at the back of his head, finger tips finding a huge indention. There were probably even more on his back and thrusters, although his processor didn't alert him to any leaks or other injuries there. He suppressed a sigh.

"Ratchet won't be happy either way."

"When is he ever?"

Prowl shared the sudden smirk of Prime's.

"You would never dare to say this anywhere where he could hear it. Besides, you need to see him as well." He pointed at the gap revealing circuitry in the armor of Prime's upper arm. Prime inspected the wound, shrugging.

"There's always the danger of damages to either of us, no matter what Ratchet says about sparring."

"Exactly. Its inherent nature makes it bound to happen sometimes." Another groan escaped Prowl as he pushed himself into a more upright position. "I certainly hope that I made you feel some measure of soreness at least, too. Otherwise I will begin to feel cheated."

"You certainly achieved your goal." Prime's grin grew broader. "I actually feel bad because I overdid it with my punch. Expending more force than necessary, which would have thrown me off my balance too."

Prowl huffed.

"Good. I already feared you would fall into old habits and apologize for throwing me into the wall. It's been some time since I had a sparring partner and one that challenges me as you do on top of that." Prime had even adapted parts of the style of circuit-su into his own over the last mega-cycles just by watching him, a feat which Prowl could not help but admire and feel a bit proud of.

"After you wiped the ground with me the first times."

"That was because you were holding back. Every time. I didn't even think then you would be able to fight with me seriously in the near future, although you finally let go in the fifth session."

"You mean you agitated me until I snapped."

"Sometimes it seems to be only way to get you to stop being so considerate or whatever you deem as so. I had actually considered by that session to re-live my fantasies of clamping my hands around your neck just to have an outlet for my own frustrations."

Prime gaped at him for a moment before he threw his head back, laughing so loudly that the looser plates of his armor rattled, his vents puffing against Prowl. Prowl's fairings drooped and he let himself relax more against the wall.

"I certainly wasn't acting any of that today, but you still seemed intent on making me suffer." When his dwindling laughter finally let him speak again, the truck gestured vaguely down his body with the various scratches marring his paint. Another reason that he too would be subjected to Ratchet's tender care. His smile grew then pensive, peering at the black bot.

"Is there something wrong?" Prowl lifted a brow. Instead of verbally answering, the truck hummed.

The ninja yelped as red arms lifted him from the ground, holding him against Prime's chest as he stood up and walked towards the warehouse's exit.

"I can walk on my own, you know." Crossing his left arm across his chest served as much as to display his annoyance as to distract from his voice sounding flustered. That the shift of position hadn't caused a new wave of headaches or his back to complain was only because of Prime's care to keep Prowl's upper body stable while picking him up.

"Maybe, but I'm not taking any chances. Neither with you being possibly hurt more than we think nor risking Ratchet's ire." Prime stepped over a fallen beam that lied in the hallway while adjusting his friend in his hold so that his damaged arm wasn't jostled.

"I rather believe you are paying me back for our fight. Not that you were any better." Lacking any vigor, Prowl stabbed a finger against Prime's chest plate. "You used underhanded tricks. Again."

"First you say I used to hold back too much, now you accuse me of fighting dirty?"

"I say you should keep it to our adversaries."

"Because it's much more entertaining when it's not you as the target?" The corner of Prime's mouth quirked now as he sniggered at Prowl's glare, giving a smug look back with his own narrowed optics.

"It sounds as if you're insinuating it worked on me."

"Oh? And I thought you admitted that my punch connected because you had been distracted."

"You are insufferable." Huffing, the ninja-bot crossed his functioning arm over his chest again and glared at his leader, whose smirk only grew. After looking at each other for several moments, due to the lack of movement it occurred to Prowl that Prime had been standing just some steps away from the warehouse's entrance for at least part of this time.

He couldn't help it.

It was bad enough that his frown eased, although they were still in the middle of their stare-off. Worse was the warmth bubbling in his chest that rose to tickle his throat.

He knew he had lost when his own lips quirked up and the first noise escaped him.

"By the Allspark, this is ridiculous." He pressed a palm over his face as if that would stop his composure crumbling, which didn't even seem to care at all it did so with how easy it was happening.

Then Optimus's chest began shaking.

--

"We are to tell no-bot of this."

"Tell no-bot what?"

"Hmmph. You still have that grin on your faceplates."

"It's not every day any-bot can make you laugh, Prowl. You should do it more often, it suits you." Prime smiled warmly at him. The dipping of the black helmet hiding his face was telling.

"… Just don't tell Bumblebee. Or Sari. While Sari would genuinely wish to see me laugh, it would turn into a competition with him."

All humor fell from Prime's field.

"Don't worry, I will keep this between us." The hand around his shoulder squeezed gently. Prowl relaxed, letting his helmet rest against the faux-glass of Prime's chest.

When Optimus later set him down after they had arrived just outside the plant, asking him if he minded walking to the medbay on his own from here on, the ninja-bot squeezed his forearm in turn.

"I don't mind at all. And thank you."

Fic: King Nothing

redseeker — Fri, 13 Jul 2012 19:08:59 GMT

Title: King Nothing
Author: redseeker
Rating: PG-13 so far, NC-17 overall
Pairing or Character(s): Starscream, original characters, ensemble. OCs/Starscream, Optimus/Starscream, Megatron/Starscream
Summary: 1000 years after the battle of Earth, Starscream awakes on a distant planet.
Disclaimer: TFA isn't mine. The original characters are, but obviously not the canon characters.
Warning(s): None that I can think of at the moment, aside from some violence and mild robot-gore. There will be sticky slash later on.
Author's Note: I started out writing a Megatron/Starscream story, but then plot happened. I have three chapters posted so far, but this is a long fic, and the first of a trilogy if all goes to plan. I don't have a beta, so I apologise for any errors. Yes it is named after a Metallica song, lol.
Links:

Chapter I - The Wasteland
Chapter II - Driver
Chapter III - Once a Decepticon, Always a Decepticon

Kidnapped Chapter 4

silver_rayan — Thu, 03 May 2012 05:40:51 GMT

Characters: Optimus, Ultra Magnus
Rating: K
Disclaimer: They are not mine, and never will be *sigh*
Summary: Sometimes the bad guys are the ones who seem to be the most harmless

Perhaps it was time to send another message to Cybertron's glorious leader

[ad] Case Story Big Bang - Multifandom

nickygabriel — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 21:25:22 GMT

Posted with permission! Thank you!

The second round @ casestory just began :) You want to be the next Agatha Christie or maybe John Grisham in your favorite fandom? It’s the right place for you! A Case Story Big Bang 2.0!

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Persuasion Chapter 4

silver_rayan — Sat, 30 Jul 2011 00:13:18 GMT

This was written for whitewave3791 in thanks for her help in November. Her request was:

Animated Megatron/Optimus with a persuasive, silver-tongued Megatron
Rated: T
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, no matter how much I beg

Hey Guys! So, after over a year long hiatus, Persuasion is done. Actually, it could have been called done last chapter, but I wanted to add a "Life After Defection" type epilogue, and here it is!

In which an Elite Decepticon team has a mission

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 08

neverminetohold — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 07:55:05 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 8 – Haunted?!
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: Something is going on within the Autobot base... Weird sensations haunt Optimus all day. Seeing ghost’s?! NOT funny, Bumblebee!
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, others mentioned
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: omitted on purpose ^-^
Note: This is a stand alone AU within the series and not part of the interconnected pieces (part 01 – 03, 05 - 07). The next part will be up, as soon as I am able to write it. At the moment, other fanficton’s got higher priority – sorry for the wait! However long it takes, I have no intention whatsoever to abandon ”Symmetry”! So stay tuned ^-^
Feedback: welcome as always!

Drabble 08: Haunted?!
Out of nowhere, Optimus felt the slightest flutter of a touch, ghosting over his shoulder plate. He almost spilled his cube of morning energon as he whirled around in reflex; pink drops of liquid overflowing.
All his sensors onlined, scanning the vicinity, feedback filtered and analyzed instantly, his blue optics flashing around too. Without thought, Optimus’ frame dropped into a defensive stance in response to a potential threat. Automatically, he positioned himself so that his vulnerable back was turned towards the wall.
But the corridor to and from their quarters was empty. Nothing moved, could have hidden in shadows or lurked behind the small stacks of discarded equipment. – And the covers of the ventilation’s duct were firmly shut; sealed close.
The only thing remotely out of the ordinary was a small cloud of dust and plaster, swirling lazily to the ground. It flaked off and drifted down from a crack in the ceiling.
Optimus’ red and blue frame relaxed, weight shifting back and musculature uncoiling. He figured with easy acceptance that one of the bigger pieces must have pattered against his armor plating, as he had passed under that spot.
He resumed his loose stride towards the main room of the plant, shrugging the inconsequential event off his processor with ease. Optimus sipped at his energon, licking the spill off his digits, feeling the energy flaring in his system, revitalizing with its sweet-sharp taste.

BREAK

Optimus stood in front of the rows of monitors, starting his shift. He watched the various feeds from Detroit’s network of surveillance cameras with practiced focus.
”Yes! Come on, Bee. You can do it!” cheered Sari in the background; clapping her hands in an excited rhythm.
”Sure can – I’m the fastest ‘bot around!”
”Right, lil’ buddy – but not in this game,” teased Bulkhead; his helm bent in dogged determination over his controller; optics fixed on the screen.
There, two sport cars raced, chasing each other through a futuristic city with squealing tires; burning asphalt. Both mechs playing were set on claiming the first place on the medallists’ podium in friendly rivalry.
Glancing over, distracted by Bee’s desperate moaning and another cheer, Optimus turned half-way. Then he felt it, like a jolt of electricity: Something touched the small of his back, drawing a smooth line up to brush his neck cables; almost as if to tease the sensitive parts. A shiver raced over his frame, following it, but the sensation vanished in this moment of frozen stillness, before Optimus managed to spin around.
The window behind him was open...
Optimus wondered whether his sensor nodes had merely misinterpreted the mild summers breeze blowing in... Maybe it was a bit of damaged coding. Or, possibly, after his check-up yesterday, the setting of his receptors was off, - it had happened before.
Although a throughout system scan turned up blank, informing Optimus that he was functioning above standard working parameters, he soon forgot all about it, because the Angry Archer appeared. He sneaked into a bank, disabling the camera filming his grand entrance with one of his arrows.
”Playtime is over,” Optimus called, assembling his team to head out and assist the local police forces.

BREAK

It only got worse from there, though – he could no longer write it off as the product of his over imaginative processor or a small glitch Ratchet could look into later.
Wherever Optimus went, whatever he did – butterfly soft sensations seemed to chase after him, confusion his sensor-net in a maddening, stirring way.
His sensors could not decide how to interpret and file the input, the signals received were both sharp like a jolt but yet not, instead soft, mere brushes.
Ratchet and the others soon noticed and threw him odd looks now and then, of which Optimus was keenly aware. He felt on edge, so it was no wonder that it showed, as his rigid composure crumbled; slowly but surely.
Optimus just prayed to Primus that the CMO would refrain from scanning him – his core temperature was steadily rising. In dread, of course. He didn’t react to the confusing touches themselves. Not at all, he told himself firmly.
Because he was just imagining them – recharge deprivation, probably. Yes, that must be it.

BREAK

”What’s wrong, boss ‘bot? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”
Bumblebee laughed at his own joke, not noticing how a shiver went through Optimus’ frame. Yes, maybe I am haunted, he thought. - Only to sigh deeply at how ridiculous that notion was.

BREAK

Come evening, Optimus was jumpy with... anticipation of the next ghost of a touch.
All his sensors were on high alert, responding not to his rational commands but his inner turmoil; expecting, almost craving it.
So, when it happened again, the soft, circling touch, almost squeezing around his audio fin, - the sensations washed through his frame with the force of an implosion; plates rattling together.
It brought a delicious spike of heat with it, rushing over Optimus, taking him by surprise – and it shouldn’t have. A shuddering gust of air left his vents. Nothing was to be seen in his room, he was definitely alone. Right?
What was happening to him?!

BREAK

Optimus burst into the dojo-like room without stopping to knock; his momentum carried him forward as far as the tree.
”Prowl, I need to talk to you. Something is –”
With the slightest rustle of leaves, Prowl’s upper body burst down in front of him, helmfirst. His pedes had wedged themselves with ease in the fork of a branch, to keep his frame from dropping any farther; displaying the sleek stretch of his armor.
Optimus’ words were swallowed by a mouth on his, metal smooth and warm. A glossa dove in teasingly, but soon raked sensually over every sensor node it could reach; tangling with its twin, igniting liquid fires along his circuitry.
The shock made Optimus unresponsive, open for the ninjabot to thoroughly explore. The stolen kiss ended with a playful nip at his lower lip component; hot air was vented against his faceplate; making it tingle.
It felt intense beyond measure, with his systems so riled up already, - hyperactive from those touches out of thin air.
”Prowl...”, it was almost a moan, half drowned in static; Optimus’ vocalizer mirroring his dazed state.
The ninjabot smiled: ”Took you long enough to find your way here... Wait – did I... scare you?” he asked, with an innocent tilt of his dark helm, the golden chevron gleaming in the midnight moonlight.
A stealthy ghost, choosing to reveal itself after a day of chasing, unknown, - and, in hindsight, the sweetest torture a ‘bot could imagine. Quite the devious way to apply Circuit-Su skills...
Optimus’ stalling processor could have, given some time, come up with many things to say to that. – But who would waste such an opportunity?
So, instead of answering, Optimus grabbed a gentle hold of Prowl’s helm with both servos, trapping the unresisting ninjabot. His engines revved in excitement as he leaned in for another kiss.
Optimus delighted in the slight chuckle which vibrated between them, straight from Prowl’s mouth into his own, and further, into his sensitized frame. The pulse of his spark quickened, a hard, wonderful throbbing.

BREAK

Drowsy from recharge, pleased and tingling with satisfaction, Optimus discovered that he still had a firm grip on Prowl. Their limps were entangled, the dark helm resting against his shoulder plate.
Oh yes, Optimus thought, dazed, he loved it when the ninjabot acted OOC. In fact, it should happen more often!

End

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 07

neverminetohold — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 16:31:26 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 7 – Prehistoric Trouble
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: Another lesson learned about Prowl – when he gets something into his helm, he’ll see it through, come what may. But where the Dinobots are concerned, that spells disaster... or doesn’t it? Set in TFA (Season 1); Follows 06
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Ratchet, Bulkhead, the Sumdac’s
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: friendship
Feedback: welcome as always!

Prehistoric Trouble
The EMP blast expanded to thrice its width, a burst of pure, golden-white light.
Its frequency shivered with the fragility of spun crystals in Prowl’s spark, resonating with the memories of mechs, femmes and places long lost. It was the same every time Sari used her key – but now much more pronounced.
It swept over the newly created Dinobots, halting their hostile advance, its heat melting the artificial skin away. Only the bare frames remained, the plating exposed; tubes and circuitry peeking through seams.
Everyone stared, optics transfixed on the powerful surge Sari’s key had ignited, channeled through Bumblebee’s systems.
But Prowl was distracted by things unseen, invisible to the other members of his team. Something had shifted and realigned within those human made machines. Its pulsing, sudden flaring lapped in waves at his highly attuned sensor-net; still focussed after the fight as it was.
As soon as the sensation had rushed through him, before Prowl had a chance to further analyze, - it vanished. The EMP blast ebbed away mere astroseconds later, its retracting energy pushing the Dinobots into deep stasis; optics going dark in deactivation.
Prowl retreated into the shadows, pondering the experience. He listened to the unfolding conversation with only half an audio; recording and filing it away for later perusal.
The clatter of the now useless remote control drew his attention back to his environment. Stepping closer, Prowl watched as Professor Sumdac removed the front plating of the tyrannosaurus rex. His lab coat fanning out in the evening breeze, he crawled in as far as the robots internals would allow; shifting wires and checking circuit boards at random.
Sari rolled her eyes behind her fathers back; whispering something that made Bee and Bulkhead grin. – Ratchet, on the other servo, only scowled, probably still suspicious of this accident.
”Hmm.... I have to find out what went wrong and then take them apart,” Isaac Sumdac mumbled, more to himself than to the gathered Autobots.
Prowls visor flashed inadvertently: ”Is that not a bit extreme?”
The professor slapped the metal panel shut and turned to him with a distracted smile; shrugging somewhat apologetically: ”They are just machines.”
The deep growl of an engine rumbled closer from the main road and the ‘bots cleared a path for the transporter. It had been called to pick the Dinobots up and bring them into the Sumdac laboratories.
Optimus noted how Prowl’s frame seemed to stiffen at the offhand comment. Two long steps brought him closer to the ninjabot. Thinking he might be disturbed by the similarities to them, as Cybertronians, Optimus tried to soften the impact: ”You know he didn’t mean it like that.”
”Of course not – you’re not mere machines to us! You’re our friends!” chimed Sari in; having overheard from her perch on Bumblebee’s shoulder.
”... of course.”
”Prowl – is something wrong?”
In that instance, Optimus found the fact utterly frustrating that the ninjabots faceplate gave nothing away which Prowl did not want to be seen. It was all too easy to be fooled by that.
”The Dinobots, they...”, but he hesitated. Prowl tried to reach out and touch the foreign energy signature – careful to avoid contact with the ones of his fellow teammates. He went so far as to hum very faintly, trying to lure it with a spiking cant most masters had long since forgotten.
Failing that, he shook his dark helm, deciding to keep his suspicions to himself until he got further proof. He would need to investigate, and soon. ”No. It is nothing. It must have been my imagination.”
”Whoa – who would have guessed that’s part of your programming?!” commented Bumblebee. Setting Sari down, he transformed, opening the driver’s door in invitation.
She snapped her fingers at his side-view mirror in warning. Hadn’t the last hail of shuriken been enough to stop him from teasing Prowl when the mech acted a bit... weird? Seriously, Sari thought; climbing into the car; obviously I’m the responsible one here. Well... at least most of the time. Aloud she said: ”Remember what they say about still waters, Bee?”
”Sure do. But what do they say about grumpy-broody puddles?”
The ambulance next to him rolled even closer, its sirens flaring up briefly: ”Give me a break,” groaned Ratchet; stressed out. ”Let’s head back to base, Prime. This time there’s a bit more for me to patch up than scratched paintjobs.”
As if to prove his point, Bulkheads engines squealed horribly as he revved his motor to shift gears.
”Right. Autobots –”
” – roll out,” finished Sari cheekily, watching Prowls transformation sequence with a barely hidden, fake yawn. ”Yeah, we all know that one.”

BREAK

The howling roar of the Dinobots gained a desperate edge as their bodies sank ever deeper into the stinking mud of molten tar. Despite their power they struggled in vain, movements growing sluggish and soon, only their helms peeked out of the hardened mass.
Only an hour later, the structure was reinforced with a special blend of concrete; an experimental mixture straight out of the professors laboratory. An energy cage was installed and activated for added security, framing the now solid block. Its buzzing, silvery lines stood out against the darkening horizon, casting odd flickers over the workers pale faces.
Prowl stared up into the faintly glowing optics of the Dinobot mech whom had proudly declared that his designation was ‘Grimlock’. Their rampage through Detroit had sent the humans into a frenzy – and they had proven themselves as worthy opponents...
Despite Grimlock’s, admittedly, simple speech pattern and irrationally justified aggression with a curious focus on cars, he had displayed self-awareness and cognizant thought processing...
It was hard to define the line between the advanced programming of an AI and a genuine spark... But Prowl had cross-checked his observations with the scientifically approved 56 distinctive signs of spark sentience on which Cybertronian scholars agreed upon. – Perhaps he did it to rationalize and support what his spark already, due to his Circuit-Su training, knew.
”What will now happen to them?” Prowl asked, although he could predict the most likely answer effortlessly.
Professor Sumdac checked the power cell for the energy field generator one final time, before he turned around to answer: ”I melt them down, first thing in the morning. They are far too dangerous.”
”... I see.”
Prowl began immediately to carefully consider all available options, - and found himself willing to take a... personal... risk to achieve his goal.

BREAK

After all the humans, including the two Sumdacs – with Bulkhead as their chauffeur -, had left, Prowl chose to speak up: ”Optimus... could I have a word with you, - alone?” The younger ‘bot didn’t look surprised by that request, he noted.
”Of course. Ratchet, would you -”
”Sure, Prime,” the CMO nodded. With reflexes belying his age, he grabbed a hold of Bumblebee’s outstretched servo, who had jumped up and down to get a better look at the flying Dinobot.
”Stop that nonsense, for Primus sake! If you touch that energy barrier it will at least melt your paintjob,” Ratchet reprimanded sternly; feeling like a Youth Sector caretaker.
”Hey – no fun, old-timer!”
Ratchet vented a heavy sigh, feeling an impending processor ache creeping up over his taut neck cables: ”Let’s head back to base before I blow a gasket.”
”Aw – but I want to know –” Bumblebee was dragged away before he could say something stupid about secret talks and certain ‘bots.
Prowl waited till the two of them had transformed and were well out of audio range before he got straight to the point: ”I am now certain that Sari’s key granted the Dinobots a spark and thus, consciousness. They displayed both during our encounter. They are therefore no longer ‘just machines’, - to offline them means to kill sentient beings.”
Optimus ducked his helm slightly in automatic response, hearing the implied reproach quite clearly. He himself had always stressed the fact that they, as Autobots, were programmed to protect all life. But still...
”Even if you are right, I nevertheless agree with Professor Sumdac. These Dinobots are too dangerous.”
Seeing the narrowing visor, now glowing a dirty teal, Optimus felt compelled to add, not really comfortable with the only solution he could see, either: ”It would be a different matter if it were possible to contain them somewhere. But, seeing as how powerful they are and that both the humans and we lack the necessary resources... Not to forget how unreasonable and aggressive the Dinobots acted towards ‘fossil feeders’...” Optimus mulled it over, as he had for dozens of times, but was again unable to come up with a different, viable option.
He shook his helm with an air of defeat, but knew his duty. ”We can not take such a risk, endangering the humans of this city. Prowl – we have to destroy them. I... I regret that.”
”May I offer a possible alternative?”
Optimus hesitated only for a moment, feeling... tested, in a way he could not quite put a servo on: ”Of course.”
Prowl’s visor lit back up in what, maybe, could have been hope or excitement: ”During my explorations beyond the city perimeter I came across an isolated place I believe to be perfect as a habitat for the Dinobots.”
”How isolated?”
”Far away from any human settlement and overall hard to reach.”
Optimus preferred not to make hasty decisions, even more so based on so few information’s, - so the next thing to leave his vocalizer took him by surprise: ”Can you guarantee that the Dinobots will be unable to escape and neither be discovered? That no humans will be endangered due to their presence?”
”Yes,” Prowl’s simple answer was spoken with confidence and lacked any hint of hesitation. In fact, he seemed to be prepared to put his – no doubt well thought-out – plan into action right away.
Not exactly sure why he found himself making an U-turn, Optimus vented a sigh to cool down his suddenly racing systems: ”Where exactly is that place?”
”Plausible deniability, Optimus. It would be prudent for you, as our leader and main contact to Sumdac Enterprises, to remain ignorant of further details.”
Optimus reset his optics in reflexive surprise at Prowls deadpan tone: ”... right.”
”Thank you, Optimus. I will do my utmost so that you will never have reason to regret this decision,” saying that with solemn fierceness, which turned the words into a vow, Prowl bowed deeply.
Then it hit him: ”Wait, - you asked for my permission although you knew that the chance for me to change my mind was slim.”
”Yes,” Prowl answered simply, waiting patiently.
”Despite the fact that, had the Dinobots ‘mysteriously vanished’ overnight, you would have been my main suspect.”
”... yes.”
Optimus watched on as the ninjabot turned and started to work on the energy field generator; his processor reeling because of the implications of Prowl’s simple admission.
He felt at the same time honored by this display of trust, confused by Prowls dedication to the Dinobots, in some ways manipulated, which he, surprisingly, didn’t mind. Furthermore, it felt like back then, during his Elite Guard time, watching Ultra Magnus and his SIC, - discussion, arguing – making tough decisions with practiced ease.
And it made his spark quiver in dread, the implication that Prowl would have, maybe, gone through with his plan, regardless of Optimus consent.
Would the ninjabot have lied? Covered up all traces of his involvement so perfectly that it left Optimus with suspicions he could just not prove?
As if sensing Optimus inner turmoil, Prowl interrupted his work and turned to face him, calm as always. ”I knew you would agree to save them. Therefore, it was not as much a risk as you may think."
Optimus shook his helm: ”How could you have known that?”
Prowl actually smiled at that, a slight upturn of his lip components: ”’Freedom is the right of all sentient beings’”, he quoted. ”Is that not right, Optimus?”
And although it should have been more complicated than that, the simple statement put Optimus’ sudden fears and doubts instantly to rest. He was content to leave Prowl to his plan and drove away; pondering the days events until recharge claimed him.

BREAK

The next morning, all that Professor Sumdac and his team found were the cracked remnants of the once solid, improvised cell block. They looked as if something had burst free from the inside; scratch and bite marks covered everything. The generator was charred black. An investigation discovered a malfunction due to a spike of electricity, - caused by a loose connection, of all things!
The fact of the Dinobots escape was successfully hidden from the media, though.
Despite a throughout search, not a trace of them was found. But, since no reports of sightings, or worse: disasters, came in, the professor began to slowly relax.
And in the end, occupied with other things as he was, he forgot about the event completely.

End

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 06

neverminetohold — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 17:24:25 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 6 – On Insights and Gifts
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: Bulkhead tends to stumble through life and smash things in the process. Now that it actually bothers him – what can his friends do to help? Set in TFA (Season 1); Follows 05
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Ratchet, Bulkhead
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: friendship
Feedback: welcome ^v^

Stumbling Issues
In the faint, rosy light of dawn, the parking lot of the Dino-Drive amusement park resembled a scrapyard. Whole double rows of cars lay overturned or in heaps, as if they were toys, scattered there by a careless child.
The wrecks on top balanced precariously on their respective stacks. Creaking ominously in the mild morning breeze, they bobbed up and down; struggling with gravity. It looked like a spontaneous Carhenge exhibit – after an earthquake.
Ratchets magnets buzzed, as he lifted the scattered parts one after the other, transferring bumpers, hoods and more into the gray container of the waiting dump truck.
After the disaster during their visit yesterday, Optimus had, predictably, decided to help with the extensive clean-up operations.
Not that Ratchet disapproved, quite the opposite, in fact. Bulkhead had demolished both the lot and those Dino-machines. And as a team, they had to stick together, and that was that. Besides, it was not as if he had done it intentionally, - he was just a bit... exuberant. Quite the common ailment amongst youngster ‘bots.
Sumdac employed workers took over from beyond the parks gates, repairing those damaged, artificial habitat displays. Their shouts could be heard, as well as the screech of the old crane they were using. A bell rang and the distinct smell of coffee permeated the air – break time, apparently.
Ratchet grunted. After three hours of work, that particular engine block, trapped in his magnetic field, felt much more heavy than it had any right to be.
Getting old was an easy enough to accept fact – up to the point where he had to deal with the consequences. Then it got slaggin’ annoying... He struggled to maintain his grip.
”Careful, old-timer! You might go and strain a back strut!” teased Bumblebee mercilessly. The kid darted around, own servos full with scrapmetal; grinning like a fool.
He looked, insult to injury, disgustingly cheery and energized, the CMO noted with a sideways glance, which did nothing to improve his mood. A flashing warning, that his magnets drained too much energy from his systems, after their prolonged use – and his right back strut actually starting to ache – turned it even more dour.
”Silence, youngster!” he snapped. ”Or the next thing I lift will be spare parts taken from your cold frame!” With that, Ratchet dumped the engine block viciously into the container, smashing something in the process.
The sizzling sound of a laser-bladed ax, chopping through a cars chassis, drowned out Bumblebees reply. ”Less talk, more work. That goes for the both of you,” remarked Optimus sternly. His weapon connected again with the SUV he was working on, breaking the wreck down into more manageable pieces.
Sumdac’s legal department was on the fritz because of this; already transferring compensations on varying bank accounts.
”Sure, Prime,” acknowledged Ratchet; kneading his wrists with carefully hidden motions to loosen up their stiffness, before it could settle in more deeply.
”Ratchet, - could you maybe spare a moment to pack up the remaining personal belongings of the vehicles owners? Bumblebee is too careless for that task –”
”Hey! I heard that!”
” – and I am sure that the humans would appreciate to get their... trinkets back,” interjected Prowl, carrying a stack of doors past the medic.
Hearing that, Optimus glanced up from his work, noting with regret the subtle telltale signs of exhaustion in Ratchets stance. Obviously, the ninjabot had seen them as well and decided to act accordingly, offering the CMO a lighter task without telling him outright to take a break. – A wise choice, because Ratchet would not have taken kindly to such a suggestion. Rather, he would have perceived it as offending, especially with Bumblebee in audio range, who was already teasing him about his advanced age.
Optimus hastened to agree: ”Yes, I think that would –”
”Whoa, whoaaaa!!”
Bulkheads surprised shout was drowned out by the screech of bending metal. A rumble tore through the ground underneath everybots pedes, as his heavy frame hit a van, crushing it flat. – It was the second time he had slipped and thus spared the compactor some work.
Instead of getting up with a ‘Sorry, - my bad!’, like usual, the big ‘bot only vented a heavy sigh; not moving an inch. Frustration etched itself deeply into his frowning faceplate, regarding his own feet glumly.
Seeing that, Bumblebee hesitated to rush to his friends side or to say something; recognizing for once the danger of running off at his mouth plate.
Prowl took the sight of the slumped green mech in, noting the tense tremble. Disposing his load of doors with an easy throw over the edge of the half-full container, he walked over to him.
”Are you alright?” Prowl asked simply, offering his servo to help him up.
After a moments hesitation, Bulkheads claw grabbed the proffered hand. The black and golden mech pulled him upright, the movement fast and strong, especially if one took the difference in size and weight between them into consideration.
”Just fine,” he muttered in answer; resuming his work; putting his wrecking ball to good use. - Two hours later, after the clearing task was finally finished, Bulkhead was the first to leave.

BREAK

Bumblebee stood and watched the cloud of dust dissipate; frowning a little. Then his faceplate lit up with the proverbial light bulb of a great idea.
”Hey Prowl – you could help Bulkhead. I mean, teach him. You know, your stillness stuff. Bet he won’t crush things no longer if you show him how to pull some Circuit-Su,” sharing his stroke of genius, Bumblebee bounced on his pedes in excitement.
Ratchet snorted in a spontaneous burst of air, startling a flock of sparrows into flight from the tree next to him. He put the carton with personal objects aside; a teddy bear peeked out over the rim, one button-eye hanging by a thread.
Optimus subspaced his ax, having finished with the last car. He felt it again, that peculiar brand of dread, settling in. – By now he was getting accustomed to the sensation; appearing around their youngest team-mate most often
Prowl tilted his helm after a moments consideration, in a show of skepticism: ”What purpose would such an attempt serve? Bulkheads frame is sorely unsuited for the art of Circuit-Su. To impose my fighting style on him would only result in disappointment, due to a lack of progress. It would just serve to highlight his perceived clumsiness.”
”I have to agree with Prowl. I understand your desire to help your friend, which honors you, Bumblebee. But I fear you are trying to go about it the wrong way.”
”Prime’s right, lad. Add Circuit-Su to the mix and it will only result in more collateral damage,” added Ratchet. His tone was not unfriendly, but rather matter-of-fact.
Bumblebee crossed his arms in a show of both sulking and defiance. That his plan was immediately shot down only served to strengthen his resolve to see it through, regardless of warnings.
”Pah! You three are not helpful at all. Just you watch and learn: Bee-sensei will start the training right now!” Transforming in a blur of rearranging, yellow metal, he sped after his friend, peppering the other ‘bots with grains of sand and splinters of glass.
The three mechs shared a knowing look.
”Sari is not allowed into the base today,” declared Optimus with the air of finality.
Both medic and ninjabot nodded, looking oddly grim: ”Agreed.”

BREAK

Optimus watched on from the sidelines, a bit relieved.
”At least our ‘sensei’ is smart enough to exclude martial arts,” he commented. Aside from that, Bumblebee had insisted stubbornly to deal with the issue his way, - and Bulkhead had agreed, happy to get some help.
From overhead, atop the small assembly crane, a ‘hm’ drifted down to Optimus audio’s; Prowl had opted to steer clear of the ongoing training, after the first little accident.
Bumblebee had set up an improvised mix of a hurdle race and slalom stage, using the layout of the assembly line and empty oil barrels; the latter in lieu of big enough traffic cones. The goal was for Bulkhead to weave around and between the obstacles without either touching or knocking them over.
So far, every round had ended prematurely in either a crash, accompanied by encouraging shouts not to give up – or a stern lecture from the sensei – or because little earthquakes of heavy, stomping steps had rattled the whole setting till it was barely recognizable.
They had tried to point out that the gaps were too narrow for Bulkhead to maneuver, but to no avail. His frame-built would simply not allow for the big mech to swerve around the barrels like Bumblebee had demonstrated. – Refusing help from Optimus to rearrange or further input from Ratchet, who had settled for a stasis nap in utter frustration, the two young ‘bots became ever more irritated, as the first hour passed.
Currently, Bumblebee vented a sigh: ”No. Look again, big guy, do it like this.”
He walked over to the starting point and broke into a full tilt run, not waiting for Bulkhead to clear the last curve. Big mistake – in his haste to get out of the way, the green mech stumbled over an oil barrel, straight behind him. Spinning on one pede, arms flailing for balance, he tilted.
The only thing Bee saw was a sudden green-dark shadow, looming over him, coming closer – He tried to stop, but his momentum carried him further. ”Wah! Noooo!”
At the last possible moment, the carefully measured impact of a flying kick sent the yellow ‘bot out of harms way; in the same instant that two grappling hooks swished by, to connect only with thin air.
A crash resounded, bits of concrete flew up and the row of barrels toppled over in a domino chain reaction; one hollow clank following after the other.
”Bee!” yelled Bulkhead in panic, getting back up. ”You okay, little buddy?!”
”Uh...” wide-opticed, the mech in question stared at the small crater right at his pedes, taking in the cracks crisscrossing from there. Bee snapped himself out of it, though, and grinned cheekily: ”No worries, I’m fine!” - He was instantly pulled into a bear hug.
Resigned to his fate, Bumblebee shot a glance in Prowls direction, mouthing ‘Thanks, owe you one.’ Mere moments later, he struggled free: ”Don’t go all gushy over me! Enough now! Come on, - let’s try again!”
Bulkheads frame slumped in defeat; gears creaking quietly: ”It’s useless. Let’s... let’s just give up.”
Optimus, his grapplers retracted, as Prowl had, fortunately, beaten him to the punch, walked over. ”Bulkhead... You may make mistakes, like everybot does and yes, sometimes something is accidentally crushed in the process. But in a fight, both your strength and build are a huge advantage. You have proven that many times over. There is no need for this sudden doubt in yourself.”
He could easily see that Bulkhead was unconvinced and tried to think of a different approach, to remember his own days as an Elite Guard recruit, were he had had similar issues.
”Yeah, he’s right – as long as you don’t crush us alongside the enemy.”
”Bumblebee!”
”Sorry!” Bee slapped a servo over his mouth plate. Mumbling against it, he added, sheepishly: ”I... uh... wasn’t thinking. Sorry.” He backed up to put some distance between himself and his glaring leader.
”You are more clumsy now because you attempt to copy Bumblebee,” interjected Prowl calmly, managing somehow to lessen the sting in his assessment due to his almost gentle tone. ”But you are you, Bulkhead. There is no need for this... training. Just do what you always do – you can never be wrong in staying true to yourself.”
Optimus had to smile in something akin to nostalgia, hearing that – the last part reminded him of his drill sergeant, Kup, from back then. As did the slightly awkward pat Prowl gave Bulkheads shoulder plate, before he stepped back.
Bulkhead mulled that over for a moment, then nodded to himself and stood straight again. A grateful smile twitched around his mouth plate.
”Thank you, Prowl.” He turned to Optimus and Bumblebee, frame finally relaxing for real. ”Thanks, guys. You’re both right. And, Bee – thanks for your help, lil’ buddy,” he beamed. ”But, heh – I guess I should try to be a bit more careful around parking cars, though.”
”A wise decision”, commented Prowl with quiet amusement.
Optimus chuckled: ”I second that.”
”Great, then all of sensei Bees hard work was for nothing,” sighed Bumblebee dramatically, - and obviously relieved that his friend had cheered up. ”Come on – let’s go and see Sari!”
”Sure!” - They transformed and were gone in a flash.
”That went... well, all things considered.”
A grunt emerged from the parked ambulance in answer to Prowls comment; the revving motors had woken the CMO from his well deserved stasis nap. He switched to robot mode – and swept a disapproving stare over the mess, stopping to look pointedly at a black puddle of oil.
”Primus! And you two just stand there and let those punks loose! Don’t you dare think that I’ll help to clean this up,” Ratchet informed the room at large. Quickly, he stalked away to reach the safety of his med-bay.
Without comment, Prowl righted the leaking barrel and proceeded to clear the obstacles away. Seemingly unperturbed to deal with someone’s else’s mess.
Optimus thought that he looked almost... content. Maybe the ninjabot was and for the simple fact that the ruckus had died down. He took another barrel; helping him.
For a moment, they worked in easy, companionable silence. But Optimus could not shake that nagging feeling.
”Prowl –”
”He will be fine from now on,” assured the ninjabot without looking up; knowing exactly what Optimus was worrying about.
It felt almost like one of their ‘midnight talks’, with the only difference that the sun was shining in through the high windows.

End

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 05

neverminetohold — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 08:36:02 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 5 – ‘Catch a ‘bot’
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: K
Summary: Congratulations! It has finally happened – Prowl snapped!
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Sari, Bumblebee, Ratchet
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: humor, friendship
Author's Note: This follows after part 03
Feedback: Both positive and negative (as long as it is constructive) is most welcome!

‘Catch a ‘bot’
Prowl was acting, for lack of a better term, ‘out of character’.
Optimus Prime felt a peculiar kind of dread settle into his processor. Watching the event unfold, he was torn between his important duty and the urge to... do something about it.
Maybe Prowl had finally snapped – not that Optimus could really blame the ninjabot. No one had infinite patience. After one whole week of Sari’s and Bumblebee’s constant pestering, it didn’t come as a surprise.
Sari had bought a new video game and, for reasons only the troublemakers were privy to, they wanted desperately for Prowl to join in on the (dubious) fun.
They had already tried everything – from begging to blackmail. Bumblebee had even gone so far as to take one of the ninjabots cherished bonsai’s ‘hostage’.
The ensuing ‘rescue’ had included dangerously (off-aim) shuriken. Bumblebee’s graceless dance to avoid the swishing hail of weapons had sent Ratchet into a laughing fit, - which was amazing in and of itself.
It had been funny, even Optimus could not deny it. But this... this promised to get disturbing.
”Come on, Prowl, you’ll like it! We just wanna play with you... P-L-E-A-S-E?” singsonged Bee, twitching restlessly on his pedes.
”Yes, pretty please, Prowl,” resorting to begging again, Sari put on an angelic face; the impression only enhanced by her white summer dress. ”Please play with us.”
Optimus glanced away form the monitors in time to see the mech in question stiffen, perched as he was on the dismantled generator; sitting in a meditative pose.
Sari craned her neck to intently stare at Prowl, then exchanged a glance with Bee, who bobbed his helm in silent agreement. She put her hands on her hip’s, apparently ready to ‘pull the big guns out’.
”Fine. We solemnly swear to leave you alone for a week, if you agree to play one lousy game with us. How’s that sound? Deal?”
Optimus’ audios, sensitivity increased to their highest setting, picked up the soft, albeit clearly exasperated (it was, wasn’t it?), sigh the ninjabot vented. – In the same moment the sound registered, the mech vanished from the generator, utterly silent despite Optimus’ keen focus on him.
”No fair!”
Sari and Bumblebee turned around, scanning the assembly line, the ceiling, the communications area; all in vain. Their target had disappeared without a trace.
Fuming, the young organic shouted: ”Fine! Now it’s war, you hear me, Prowl?!”
”I heard.” The monotonous voice drifted over... – from the doorway.
Everyone, Optimus included, whirled around to see the ninjabot casually leaning at the door-frame; visor dimmed to a dirty teal.
”Hah!” Bumblebee pointed a digit at him in triumph. ”Figured you can’t hide from us, right, grumpy-bot?”
”No. You two are... hardly worth the effort,” Prowl answered; dismissive. He straightened and turned, ready to walk out on them.
Predictably irked by this, the enraged kids gave chase immediately, shouting all the way to the door; making a racket on the floor.
Optimus watched them go, torn again. But since Decepticon activity had risen recently and he had to give a good example, as their leader, he remained diligently behind to watch the monitors. – Surely, Ratchet would step in, should things be taken too far. Besides, he was, more or less, confident that Prowl wouldn’t let the situation get out of hand... right?
As a precaution, he didn’t change the setting of his audios, which granted him the ability to keep track of the chase.
Something crashed – ”Whoops! Sorry!” - ,followed by Ratchet’s outrageous shout: ”Get out of my med-bay, at once, youngsters!”
Sari burst into delighted giggles – because she had managed to dodge the CMO’s wreath, while a clank indicated that poor Bumblebee took a hit from some random object or other.
”Ow! Stop that, old-timer! Think about your pump’s pressure!”
Not a wise choice of words, as another clank proved (Optimus winced in mislead sympathy), followed by a select few choice words in ancient Cybertronian. Both servos and sandal’s slapped on the ground in hasty retreat.
”Not smart, Bee!” admonished the girl sternly – as much as one could with a voice full of sniggers.
Suspiciously silent breems followed, making Optimus’ tank churn with electrons...
Then doors were flung open and crashed shut soon after. Obviously, losing sight of the ninjabot, the chase had devolved into hide-and-seek.
Optimus wondered briefly if Prowls behavior warranted a system check, - another crash was heard through the far side of the wall.
... maybe Ratchet could check out Bumblebee’s motor relays while he was at it...

BREAK

Two hours later, the kids stumbled back into the main room, both sweaty with drops of condensation and heavily panting. Sari’s endurance was admirable, other than Bumblebee’s lack thereof, since she was only an eight year old human.
Seeing their nearly overheated state, Optimus could not help but worry: ”Are you two alri-”
Prowl dropped from somewhere above, landing, with a graceful somersault, right in front of his ‘hunters’.
Not hesitating at all, although stunned, they threw themselves forward, hands and servos grabbing desperately for his gold and black pedes –
Optimus dreaded that Prowl would disappear again or dissolve into thin air, him being a hologram; already frowning at the cruel taunt – but the kids latched onto the ‘bot like limpets.
Sari and Bumblebee collapsed, stretched out, at Prowls feet, - looking both drained and stupidly grinning elated for ‘catching’ their elusive prey. They burst into helpless giggles; finally rolling around the floor, laughing in triumph.
”Yeah! We did it!”
”We’re the best!”
It was a sight to warm the spark.
Prowl stood and observed the undignified spectacle, seemingly unfazed... But, catching Optimus’ optics and seeing his amused smile, the corner of his mouthplate twitched upwards in response.
It felt as if they were sharing an inside joke; watching the younger ones antics fondly.
As the delighted noises faded, Prowl spoke up: ”It’s called ‘catch a ‘bot’. A game far more rewarding an experience than what your video console offers. So... I expect to spent the next week in silence, without interruptions, as per your promise.”
”What?!” Bumblebee mustered the strength to prop his frame up, with Sari following suit; leaning on his frame for support.
”But –”
”I quote: ‘one lousy game’. You did not specify which kind.”
”That’s cheating!”
Prowls visor narrowed: ”I played with you, did I not?”
”But - !”
”After all your... restlessness, you seemed to have – fun.”
They exchanged a look, still feeling giddy and... good. Groaning in defeat, both little girl and yellow ‘bot plopped back on the ground; hands up in surrender. ”We yield.”
”Jepp – war is over,” agreed Sari, waving her handkerchief like a white flag.
Optimus watched as Prowl nodded, clearly satisfied. Then the ninjabot leaped back up onto the generator, to settle down; legs crossed and servos on his knee plates. He looked serene and... suspiciously smug. – Maybe.
Right then and there, Optimus decided that he liked a Prowl who acted OOC.

End

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 04

neverminetohold — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 13:40:43 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 4 – Is this how our world ends?
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: In the end, the Decepticons won. Two ‘bots left standing...
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; others mentioned
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: H/C, angst, hints of Slash, dark, abstract contemplation of suicide
Author's Note: This is a stand alone AU within the series and not part of the interconnected pieces (part 01 – 03)
Feedback: Both positive and negative (as long as it is constructive) is most welcome!

Is this how our world ends?
In the end, the Decepticons won.
Detroit went up in flames, leaving only puddles of molten Sumdac robots and ruins behind. Empty skyscrapers, overturned cars; eerie silence.
The streets were full of endless rubble, shrapnel embedded everywhere from the explosions. Glass shards glittered in the stark sunlight; each the piece of a broken dream.
Clouds of ash wafted lazily in the wind, carrying a foul stench no amount of rain could erase. Gray and sickly sweet, even after months had passed, it lingered like a shroud over a landscape devoid of life.
The remains of thousands and millions of humans erased, just drifting away...
Sari had died, trying to evacuate her father to safety, just as Megatron struck. The professor had to watch her fall and was imprisoned afterwards, only to be killed the moment his usefulness was outlived.
The Allspark key was lost.
Ratchet, Bumblebee and Bulkhead... – It was too painful to remember their deactivation; quick and torturous; relief and struggle till the end. Each different; all awful.
The last they had heard, Megatron had finished his space bridge, heading to Cybertron with his main force; leaving the hunt to Lugnut and Slipstream.
Reinforcements were soon sent to Earth.
Countries were invaded and crushed, humans shipped off – as fragile as these organic creatures were, as slaves they could serve a purpose. Till they died, within orns, crushed in the mines, - or worse.
The two of them were the only Autobots left functioning on this planet, - and Cybertron’s fate was still uncertain, with no way left to contact the Elite Guard; isolated from everything.
So they ran. And hid.
They did what they could, employing guerilla tactics – but it was never enough to cause real damage, to stop the advance or to help anyone.
The bitter truth beyond that was: Existing alone is insufficient, when one had once known how it was to live.

BREAK

Optimus’ dull frame weighed heavily on him; hot and full of dirt. It crushed his plating inwards till it clamped sensitive wires and tubing, slowing the flow of both coolant and energon. Prowl endured the slight pain stoically, allowing Optimus to cling to him, like every night.
Optimus’ servos shook, rattling the once shiny black armor plate in his grasps. His optics were dim, gaze turned inside, seeing not the damp cave or Prowl, but the deaths he had been unable to prevent.
Prowls digits traced Optimus helm soothingly, avoiding the torn audio fin; feeling rough patches of graying metal and too many dents and scratches to count.
Words had the power to hurt, because their solace was empty, so Prowl just clicked at him, like a creator would do for a frightened sparkling – or a friend, close enough that the meaning was understood by spark.
Lost hope was a cut far deeper than a surface scratch.
Alternately, Prowl hummed, using his Circuit-Su to align their spark energies, to redirect them to flow more easily. They mirrored emotions, in a way, so Optimus’ were like deserts drained and seas overflowing.
A tangle, chains – a black hole; there was so much lost of him.
He did it to soothe him, to dampen the pain and reduce the burden, - but Optimus allowed it to escape the memories. The infinity loop of golden moments lost and overwhelming darkness, playing in his minds eye to haunt his recharge like no mere nightmare ever could. – Since truth hurts the most. It’s reality, not irrational fears.
Prowl used careful bursts of energy to disrupt relays and micro chips; the connection between memory banks and CPU. Intimately familiar with Optimus’ inner workings, both in a technical and emotional sense, Prowl guided, coaxed and directed; the younger ‘bot never knowing to what extent, but trusting him anyway.
A strangled sigh of guilty relief escaped Optimus vocalizer as recharge finally claimed him and his curled up frame went limp on top of the ninjabot.

BREAK

Prowl situated his frame against the trunk of a dead tree, the caves entrance firm in his field of view and all sensors alert; in the cover of the thick foliage around him.
He settled within himself, systems slowing, his perception opening up to the flowing energies around him; slipping into a superficial meditative state of processor.
Abstract contemplation’s kept him busy and soon, Prowl found himself considering the ‘easy way out’. – It was not unheard of, for a mech to extinguish his own spark. It had no name, this mystifying, sad concept; not in Cybertronian. Humans called it ‘suicide’.
Abstract indeed, - it could never be Prowls way, he knew himself to be too proud to admit defeat of any kind.
The thought had merely entered his stilled processor out of morbid curiosity. – He had seen by now too many humans choosing to kill themselves. They preferred to embark on an uncertain journey – To paradise? To hell? Into nothingness? To end as rotting corpses? – rather than enduring the fate of a Decepticon pet.
They had tried, again and again, but they could not stay and protect those not yet caught or killed, - it broke Optimus’ spark, piece by tiny piece, every time.
That, surprisingly enough, was for Prowl a reason to keep going. – Because of Optimus.
The younger ‘bot was... too entangled, defined by others. It was a constant need for him, to go beyond his limits. He would always do so, - but never for himself. Optimus would, consequently, not keep going, should Prowl cease to function. Their connection was the last thread of a web now torn; leaving gaping holes behind were once others had existed.
Such terrifying, wonderful selflessness – truly the sign of a leader. Blessing once, it was now a curse, since all seemed lost.
A shame. – He was so young, compared to Prowl...
What did Optimus truly know about life? What had he seen and experienced of it, aside from his training in the Elite Guard and his time as leader of a space bridge repair crew? Aside from war, that is. Optimus had just enough good memories saved in his processor to haunt him now.
It was ironic, but the only word to describe this situation, that Prowl could come up with, was ‘unfair’. He was darkly amused to use it in this context; when a world was warped beyond recognition and would surely soon end, be it the whole of this planet or a young spark.
Seeing the only option left with the detached clarity only meditation could offer him, surrounded by chaos, as he was, Prowl knew what to do.
It wasn’t much. – And it was certainly no sacrifice on his part, although, back at the beginning, he would certainly have thought so and fought with all he had against it.
Prowl would have to live for Optimus’ sake, as grand as that sounded, it was a simple thing to do. There was no choice left, just acceptance; what is, is. – In a way, he had known this outcome all along.
On another plane of existence, Prowl was elated, in a chilly way. It was like... to wake up from your life, only to realize that you had lived a dream within a dream. And, maybe, in truth, it was a nightmare...
And you had to wonder, waking up: A nightmare? Was it now or then, here or there? Or did you just not see that it was something entirely different?
Prowl could still feel the lingering trace of Optimus’ spark energy, swirling in his own systems, after their alignment. He had gotten used to it, as time passed, to the not so foreign presence of another; the whole process came natural now, easy and... welcome.
And he could almost still feel the touch of a heavy frame on his own, a warm weight, suffused with a kind spark; cracked by pressure but persistently reaching for Prowls own...
Was there less importance to it because it was artificially created and an attempt spurred on by desperation, rather than true attraction and choice?
To Prowl, it wasn’t.
The basic component of every kind of relationship was always the need to shake off the crushing loneliness. Granted, it was more complex than that, but not as much as most romantic ‘bots cared to admit.
In a way, it was enough for Prowl. Now, the only question left was if it was the same to Optimus or if he had misinterpreted the signs which went deeper than seeking solace...
But, one thing was clear to him: Being trapped in this way would be far more... pleasant than the deathtrap which was made up by the whole of Earth.

BREAK

The shift within the cave alerted Prowl some breems later and he went back inside immediately. Weary, wide optics greeted him in the twilight, as he rounded the natural barrier of an old rockslide.
Seeing him, Optimus frame slumped with something akin to relief: ”I thought... that you had left.”
The dull words echoed heavily in the enclosed space and Prowl wondered for a moment what he could do to lay that fear to rest; feeling sorely unequipped to share his recent insight in mere words.
Faint disgust curled around his spark at his hesitance and he moved determinedly closer, to touch Optimus’ spark chamber with careful, slow precision. He smiled at him, more open than ever before, not aware that, to an observer, the expression would seem twisted by the ugliness all around.
”I will never leave.”
Optimus desperate reaction was Prowls answer to a question not spoken out loud.
...
...
...
Some orn, they would no longer be able to hit and run and hide.
That orn would come, sooner, rather than later. – But discovering something less dark in a dying world, neither ‘bot cared. And, although foolish, that faint light gave them some hope.

(Foolish, because hope is the greatest torture one can endure).

END

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 03

neverminetohold — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 10:31:39 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 3 – On Insights and Gifts
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: Making fun of Circuit-Su while a practitioner of the martial art is around is not a good idea, especially where Prowl is concerned. How to make up for it, since that’s part of a leaders duty, to keep them all together... Set in TFA (Season 1); Follows 01 + 02
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Sari, Ratchet, Bulkhead
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s)/Genre: friendship, bit of humor

On Insights and Gifts
The car manufacturing plant turned Autobot base was, for once, quiet.
Everyone was gathered in the main room, either watching TV or Prowls on-going training session. Surprisingly, the latter took place right in front of their optics and not in his room, which, according to Sari, resembled a Japanese karate dojo.
Optimus took that as a good sign, having noticed small changes in the ninjabots behavior ever since their random ‘midnight talks’ and the recent fight against Meltdown. – But he could not shake off the weird feeling of dread in his spark that this peaceful evening would soon come to an abrupt end.
Optimus wasn’t much of a ‘soothsayer’, as humans called it, but the way Bumblebee watched Prowl, got up from the couch and stalked over to the mech just spelled trouble in a way no ‘bot could possibly miss.
Bumblebee and Circuit-Su training had always meshed, even back in space, - just in the wrong way. In automatic response, Optimus handed monitor duty over to Teletraan-1, to keep a closer optic on the yellow ‘bots antics.
Bumblebee watched for a moment and then tried – and failed – to copy the graceful flowing motions.
One swift strike followed the other, interrupted by astroseconds of absolute, calculating stillness, until another attack exploded forth; Prowls sleek frame a weapon in its own right.
Bumblebee, on the other servo, looked... how to put it?
Sari came unknowingly to Optimus rescue. Leaning over the seat back of the new couch, she giggled: ”Bee – are you trying to catch a fly? Or did someone pour itching powder under your armor? ‘Cause that looks... ah, different from how Prowls doing it.”
Bumblebee continued to chop at empty air: ”Ha-ha-ha; very funny! This whole ‘stillness and strike’ stuff just ain’t my style. – Guess I have to spice it up!”
Powering his stingers up, while still in the movement of copying Prowls roundhouse kick, had Bumblebee careening straight into Optimus, who caught him reflexively.
”No active weapon systems on base, especially with Sari around,” he admonished sternly. ”And, if you’re really interested, than you should simply ask Prowl for proper training. You can’t just learn a martial art starting with advanced forms.”
While Prowl continued his katas, unfazed – or just too absorbed to care, which was actually unlikely -, Bumblebee shook Optimus’ steadying servo off, and his own up in frustration.
”No way! Didn’t you hear him last time I tried? All that rubbish about meditation, energy alignments, auras and tuning in with your environment? I’m keen on some neat moves! Seriously, - all that nonsensical mythical stuff , - how can that be the groundwork for a martial art?! He talks like that gnome from the Star Wars movie Sari made us watch last week!”
Sari erupted in a fit of laughter, imagining Prowl in a robe and with long, pointy ears, all green; sliding back down on the gray cushion and rolling around; her face going as red as her hair.
Ratchet grumbled, as she knocked one of his tools over in the process. Bending down, he picked the scanner off of the concrete floor. Then he turned around to face Bumblebee and said, with a derisive snort: ”Just don’t listen, kid. Ninjabots are a package deal – you don’t get them without their mumbo jumbo. Honestly! ‘Energy healing’, bah! Never want to hear about that pseudo-science nonsense ever again!”
”Woah, grumpy much, old-timer?”
”Now, Autobots, I think that’s enou-”
”Uh – guys,” Bulkhead chimed in, abandoning his documentary; pointing to the spot from where Prowl had just vanished. The transom window clattered shut behind a streak of black and gold.
”Oops – guess we touched broody-bots sore point.”
”Bee!”
”What?! You laughed too, Sari! And he did talk like those ‘miracle healer’ and ‘wish from the universe’ guys on TV!”
While the two friends started bickering, with Bulkhead caught in the middle to separate them, Optimus vented a sigh, wishing he had stepped in sooner, - and not just tried.
If Prowl training here had been some sort of improvement, they were back at square one. – So, what to do?

BREAK

”Prowl –” Optimus tried again to reason, but was interrupted.
”My answer, I fear, would only lead to more ‘mythical nonsense’,” the ninjabot was clearly unamused, although his tone was, as always, a neutral monotone.
Optimus vented a sigh in an attempt to cool his circuits. Searching him out to try and talk about Circuit-Su, to understand the art better and maybe repair the damage done, hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped. – A miscalculation on Optimus part.
Just because Prowl listened to him during rechargeless nights, sometimes even offering advice, didn’t mean that they had become friends by any stretch of the imagination. With other mechs, it would have been different, but not so with the ninjabot. – To a degree, it intrigued him. He was curious, - what made Prowl tick?
”My apologies. I merely asked out of interest. I did not mean to offend you.”
”If you did, then so did Bumblebee and Ratchet.” Prowls visor dimmed, adjusting as he raised his helm to gaze at the full moon. ”I really...”
After a breem passed in silence, Optimus probed with a gentle: ”Yes?”
”... I try to at least tolerate, and not belittle, each of your... – personality quirks. I would merely wish to be paid the same courtesy.” As the ninjabot was wont to do by now, he vanished into the shadows without another word.
He was right, of course.
Prowl did tolerate Bumblebee’s pestering; him constantly interrupting his meditations and, since arriving on Earth, the audio shattering music he played. And Prowl did far more – he subtly encouraged Bulkhead to pursue his new art hobby, and never yelled at the mech for being clumsy, even when he had crushed one of Prowls shuriken in his servo, while trying it out. Furthermore, he kept an ever watchful optic out for Sari, when she decided to play a prank or whenever she was present during a fight.
Prowl did all that as stealthily as he did everything else and some would say that it was no big deal, even considering that he was a mech who liked to keep to himself. – But Optimus had noticed, because Prowl had ended up as part of their team only by accident. And, thinking of the ninjabot as some sort of coincidence acquaintance, an almost stranger, all things considered, put all those small things into a new perspective.
All in all, Prowl was, by far, not as aloof and cold as he seemed on first glance. In fact, being as observant as he was, he tended to show up right when you needed him – which he would deny vehemently, of course.
And, Optimus realized with sudden clarity, Bumblebee had probably been right with his callous observation: They had hurt Prowls feelings by ridiculing the art of Circuit-Su, to which the mech dedicated his whole existence.
Optimus was far from figuring him out – he was too much of a walking contradiction – but it was a start.
So, - he had to properly apologize. But how?

BREAK

Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots on Earth, felt utterly stupid. - In his right servo rested a tiny present box...
Primus knew how that notion had come over him, but since Prowl had avoided any further attempts at an apology, Optimus had bought the mech... a gift. A ridiculous one, for a ninjabot, one which seemed appropriate then and now... not so much.
”Did you want to come in?”
Prowls muffled voice drifted through the closed door to his quarters; preventing Optimus’ processor from slipping into an infinity loop. – He actually flinched, jarring his red-blue frame, like a sparkling caught with one servo full of forbidden energon goodies. On instinct, Optimus knocked, as if he hadn’t lurked around the door for breems, before he let himself in.
Prowls decoration was, unsurprisingly, sparse, with some bonsai’s and Asian ornaments – the sole optic catcher was the tree, growing from the middle straight up through the damaged roof.
Tiny brown birds stopped in their happy twittering as Optimus moved hesitatingly closer. – Prowl was sitting cross-legged, leaning against the thick trunk; getting up in a fluid movement without the slightest noise of grinding gears.
”Prime. What do you need? You look... nervous,” he stated smoothly in greeting.
”I-I wanted to give you this. It’s – as an apology for yesterday,” Optimus offered the small box lamely; forcing the words from his vocalizer. – Feeling even more ridiculous for it.
Prowl looked actually puzzled, before his faceplate went blank again. He accepted the present and unwrapped it with careful servos; cutting the string easily with the sharp edge of one digit. Setting the blue paper aside, he opened the carton.
Reaching inside, he took hold of a small metal ring; pulling a wind chime out of yellow polystyrene flakes. The movement caused the six copper rods, dangling from a wooden circle, to clatter against each other and a round middle piece, producing a ringing sound; like bells.
The frequency had something soothing, almost hypnotic to Optimus’ audios.
Observing the ninjabots reaction intently, he was held on edge, as Prowl just stood and stared; studying the wind chime like some abstract art piece. – Or so Optimus guessed, because in reality, nothing gave Prowls thoughts away.
Finally, one optic ridge rose from behind Prowls visor – Optimus felt the energon rushing into his faceplate. ”I, well, it’s supposed to help with meditation. And – if you don’t like it, then-”
”No,” Prowl interrupted firmly. ”Thank you. Although an apology was... unnecessary, your gift is appreciated.”
Something akin to a smile may have flashed around Prowls mouth plates; there and gone too quickly to really register within Optimus’ processor. – If his optics hadn’t deceived him in the first place. The branches swaying overhead created odd flickers of light, shining on the black and gold armor.
With a slight bow, Prowl leaped up onto the lowest bough and kept going, till he reached the treetop. There, he wound the string around a sturdy twig, securing the wind chime with a tight knot.
Moved by the gentle breeze, it rang, sending a vibrating, high note through the whole room. – Forgetting about his company, or maybe just ignoring the ‘bot on the ground, Prowl settled down to meditate to the sound.
Which Optimus notched up as a full, if slightly embarrassing, success...
...
Well, weirder things had happened to him in the last vorn, that was for sure.

End

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 02

neverminetohold — Mon, 04 Jul 2011 14:17:35 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 2 – Working together?
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: T
Summary: ”Ready to melt? Piece by robotic junk piece?” a voice drawled; drawing near. – The team has to work together, facing two human foes... Will they be able to pull it off? Set in TFA (Season 1); Connected to 01
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; Bumblebee, Sari, Ratchet, Bulkhead plus the foes (you can guess, right?)
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s): none I can think of...
Author's Note: Forgot to mention in Part 1 – in my AU of TFA, Prowl has mastered the art of Circuit-Su and is significantly older than in the show, on par with Ratchet, at least.

Working together?
Bulkhead crashed helm first into the Sumdac tower; clouds of dust exploded in all directions. Glass and rubble buried his frame, raining down on his thick green plating with sharp clanks.
Optimus ducked, only able to spare him a quick glance, - Bulkhead was forced into stasis lock; the stench of liquefied alloys hung heavily in the air.
Optimus swerved to the right, spotting movement behind him. He staggered dangerously for a moment, his damaged leg unable to support his full weight; but he managed.
A spray of dark green hit the concrete were he had stood a mere moment ago, dissolving the ground into a sizzling pool of gray foam. Dashing for temporary cover, luring their foe farther away, Optimus opened a comm link: ”Ratchet, what’s your status?”
Nothing but static answered him for an astrosecond; his spark clenched in anticipation; then: ”Working on it. Energy level 80 % and rising; program restored. Sari can almost use her key. Just hang in there a bit longer, Prime!”
Optimus replay was lost in his agonized scream. - Boiling hot acid had slammed right through the wall he had hidden behind, melting his armor plates. Streams of his own red paintjob ran down to his pedes, biting into the open wiring of the wound; turning it black. It felt like lines of fire, electrons almost overloading his processor with pain; his screen flooded with warnings and corrupted code sequences.
The buzz of the laser fading, his ax clattered deactivated to the ground, as his servos released their desperate clutch around the handle involuntarily. His frame followed it down, crumbling to the ground; lying on his side, vulnerable to any attack.
”Ready to melt? Piece by robotic junk piece?” a voice drawled; drawing near.
A shadow loomed over Optimus. Quickly adjusting his optics, the only component responding readily, he could discern a shape. Through the red haze, it turned into a body.
His containment suit almost overflowing with deathly acid in his glee, Meltdown leered, looking down on him; his smirk flowing and rearranging constantly.
Optimus tried to get back up, to use his grappling hooks, to do something – but his frame only twitched feebly; the movement eliciting a groan as everything burned.
Meltdown raised both arms, waterfalls of Cybertronian enzymes, and time seemed to slow down, as did Optimus' processing capability.
Everything was reduced to the distant sounds of fighting – Bumblebee and Prowl, trying to take down Colossus - , and Sari, screaming at her key to finally work, damn it! And a blue, bright sky, the sun shining – beautiful, but Optimus realized belatedly that he was cast in a long-stretched shadow.
The hissing sound of acid was overly loud in the sudden, accepting calm of his spark. The finger-like shapes aimed straight for its chamber, - the impact would instantly deactivate him, extinguishing his life force...
But it never came.
Instead, out of nowhere, Prowl appeared, right behind Meltdown’s back. In a movement blurred by speed, his servos struck, connecting in a series of blows; aimed with deathly accuracy. Acid splattered around, bursting into the air as a fine spray, with each hit.
Meltdown’s inhuman visage formed an almost comical impression of surprise as he slipped down to his knees, all strength drained away; uttering: ”Oh.” He lost consciousness, threatening to disperse into a green pool of bubbling goo; melting straight through the street.
Just then, a blue light shimmered into existence around the empty suit, separating the acid, trapping it in a transparent sphere; lifting into the air. Sari and Ratchet had finally managed to activate the force field. – And she was already leaving the tower, running over to use her key on Bulkhead.
Good. Optimus shuttered his optics in relief, one which had nothing to do with the pain wrecking his immobile frame. – His team would be safe.
”Prime!” Ratchet was beside him in an instant, running scans and cursing under the hiss of his frantically working vents. Emergency spark support was hooked up by deft digits, to keep his systems from crashing until Sari arrived.
Still dazed, Optimus tried to see the status of the rest of his team, failing that from his perspective, he asked with a staticy voice: ”Colossus?”
”No worries, big ‘bot. Your resident star player took him down.” Bumblebee’s helm entered Optimus field of view. The young mech made the victory sign, grinning, - until Ratchet shoved him away with enough force that he yelped.
Sari skidded to a halt besides them, looking, for once, unamused. ”You played bait, Bee. Bulkhead and Prowl did the hard work, - although your stingers were quite useful,” she corrected; adding the last part as a teasing afterthought.
Optimus could feel her crawling over his plating and then watched as Ratchet lifted her to his open spark chamber, to prevent her from touching the remaining acid. Her key connected with his systems.
”It was teamwork, right, little buddy?” chimed Bulkhead in for the sake of peace; he was already up and moving around.
”Sure was!”
A surge of pure power flowed straight into every circuit of Optimus frame as Sari turned the Allspark key to ignite his systems, purging the pain from them and repairing the sustained damage. He sighed quietly in relief, letting the tingling scan from Ratchet wash over him before he dared to move even a digit. The verdict was positive, so the CMO let him get up, back on his pedes, with Bulkhead lending a steadying servo.
”You alright, boss ‘bot?”
Optimus nodded, eliciting cheers form Bumblebee and Sari. – But, wait...!
”Where is – Prowl! Ratchet, his servos!”
Startled, and a bit guilt-ridden, everyone turned eyes and optics to the silent ninjabot, standing in the shadow of a wall. – Only to see that, although his digits were charred and thin tendrils of smoke rose from them, they were largely unharmed.
Visor narrowing slightly, being in the spotlight of undivided attention, Prowl said in his typical monotone: ”I am fine. Do not concern yourself.”
Bumblebee was kneeling beside him in a yellow flash, intently studying his loosely held servos, completely disregarding the concept of private space; which was never a good idea.
”Wow, Prowl – how did you pull that stunt off without a scratch?”
Prowls faceplate went totally blank. Sidestepping the smaller ‘bot, he put some distance between them, before responding: ”... Circuit-Su is, among other things, the art of manipulating ones own spark energy for varying purposes.”
”... Huh?”
The gold-black ‘bot sighed, clearly disgusted by such ignorance and for once not trying to hide it. Ratchet came closer and he allowed the medic to take a scan, the blue light tracing his resignedly held out servos; knowing better by now than to try and avoid it.
Prowl then focussed on Bumblebee’s clueless faceplate. Seeing the expression mirrored by all but the old war veteran by his side, he reluctantly elaborated: ”In laymen’s terms, I created a small ‘force field’ of my own, to protect my servos from serious damage.”
Frowning at his readings, Ratchet growled: ”As if ‘light’ damage’s not enough. – I want all your sorry afts in my med-bay for a check up, as soon as we get back to base.” Seeing their expressions, he held up a warning digit: ”No, don’t even try to argue.”
”You all heard Ratchet. And Prowl-”
”Really?” Bumblebee interrupted, having Prowls words mulled over; sounding a bit sullen. ”Man, if you had such a neat trick up your plating, then why didn’t you use it sooner? Like, five breems ago, when that crazy dude almost melted my aft?”
”Bee!” Sari gave the yellow ‘bot a smack in warning, which barely registered with her friend.
Prowls visor narrowed to slits: ”Because it is not... advisable to use it too often in this manner.” He transformed before the last word had left his vocalizer and drove away; the bike weaving through the littering rubble.
From the highway, sirens were drawing closer.
”Well – what are we waiting for? Let’s move, young ‘bots. Med-bay it is. Let Captain Fanzone handle the rest from here.”
Optimus, processor still lingering on both Prowls words and his rigid stance, indicating his unwillingness to speak about the matter, startled a bit at Ratchet’s impatient grumbling.
”Right. Let’s head back to base. Autobots, transform and roll out!”
Which they did, - but even Bumblebee did not put up too much speed, trying to procrastinate as much as possible, not keen on the awaiting ‘prodding torture’.

BREAK

Later that evening, finally released from Ratchet’s well meaning clutches, Optimus found Prowl outside the manufacturing plant, near the only patch of grass to be found in the vicinity.
The ninjabot seemed to study something between the gently swaying blades. Coming closer, Optimus could see an anthill, crawling with hundreds of black insects. – For such tiny organic creatures, he noted absently, they were able to haul tremendous weights, as illustrated by the dead grasshopper they dragged into their hole.
Optimus decided to skip right to the point – better to say his piece now, phrased as carefully neutral as possible, than for Prowl to up and leave, like last time.
”Prowl. Thank you. You saved my life today – and you were a great help in this battle.”
The ninjabot didn’t turn around to face him, visor still trained down. ”... Unnecessary. Our victory was a combined effort.”
Which is beside the point, as true as that assessment may be, thought Optimus wryly. But he held his glossa, weary and unwilling to risk starting an argument, when all he wanted was to express his gratitude. Maybe he should notch it up as improvement in their interaction, that he had been able to actually say the words this time.
”Yes, a combined effort. – Prowl, you’re part of the team now.”
Although Optimus knew better, he failed to completely suppress the hint of teasing in the pitch of his vocalizer, thinking back to their last conversation about the topic.
The ninjabot turned to him, - and seemed to vanish, right in front of Optimus widening, startled optics. – Were those faint scars on his servos? How had he managed to conceal them from Ratchet?! The acid - Prowl, what do you think you’re doing?!
A sense of, what a human might have called ‘déjà vu’, crept into Optimus processor, as, from the shadows behind him, a voice spoke: ”I am, when I am needed. – But I will never change my ways.”
Not turning around, he answered: ”I think you already are. And it’s not a bad thing, Prowl.”
Nothing but silence reigned over the empty yard. But this was start. And a promising one, at that. – Maybe.

End

Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus - 01

neverminetohold — Thu, 30 Jun 2011 15:51:03 GMT

Title: Symmetry in Contrasts: Prowl/Optimus (OneShot Collection)
Chapter: One Shot 1 – On Teamwork
Author: neverminetohold (LJ/FF.net)
Rating: K
Summary: Teamwork is not achieved easily, a fact that frustrates Optimus. Prowl feels compelled to no longer just observe his midnight training sessions, but do something about it... Set in TFA (Season 1)
Pairing or Character(s): Prowl, Optimus Prime; others mentioned
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers in any form... Poor me!
Warning(s): none I can think of...
Author's Note: ”Symmetry” is a OneShot/Drabble Collection of mine, some pieces are interconnected, others not. It starts out as ”getting to know you” which should lead to friendship – and hopefully end in full out slash between my TFA OTP...
And... well, I’m new here, so I hope this post works as a ”please don’t eat me!” peace offering LOL

On Teamwork

Prowl watched, concealed within the shadows, as Optimus sank to the ground in exhaustion.
Optimus had trained outside the warehouse for quite some time, slipping away as soon as Sari had left and everyone else went into recharge.
But their leader had not sought to practice. Rather, Optimus had vented his frustration with destructive ferociousness on the hapless dummy. Were it not for the fact that the target was a transparent hologram, flickering to indicate a hit, - it would litter the cracked concrete in pieces.
The noise when a swing missed, metal crashing into the ground, although faint by distance, had lured Prowl away from his lofty refuge in the tree.
He had noticed the signs well before this barely controlled outburst: little gestures, clenched servos, the energy flow of an aura disrupted, the wrong inflections in clipped words, lending them an underlying meaning; reined in, but there.
In fact, the ninjabot had all but waited for this night to happen.
The last orn had been... taxing.
Starscream's grand appearance had almost cost them Sari's life, because plans and orders were ignored; no one willing to listen to Optimus in their panic. Everyone had stumbled over the others pedes, hindering each others efforts to rescue the little girl.
Prowl himself had been absent during the hostage situation, lured away out of Detroit by his need to explore the fascinating wildlife of this unique, organic planet.
Returning, he had only heard the end of it, arriving in their impromptu HQ only to bear the brunt of an enraged speech about the necessity of teamwork - and how he had left them, leaving them vulnerable.
Prowl did not appreciate being used as a scapegoat, - he had, after all, asked for permission to leave, not entirely trusting the sudden peacefulness; making amends to his need for privacy. He did not consider the other 'bots his teammates, but he would never abandon his Cybertronian kin in time of need.
Even so, he had kept his silence, enduring the rant stoically, giving the others the opportunity to tend to the still shaken Sari. The lack of response, predictably, had irritated the Prime even more.
And yet: Starscream's arrival on Earth was not something anyone could have anticipated. Which begged the question - who was Optimus truly mad with?
Surely, their lack of teamwork rankled with the former Elite Guard; to him, it was the key component to success, after all. But Prowl had picked up and analyzed enough evidence to recognize that Optimus' apparent inability to lead them had cut the mech deeply.
Being a bot to chase an unattainable ideal of perfection, this sowed the seeds of self-doubt in Optimus. Or rather, Prowl suspected, already existing issues were drawn back to light, being buried only plating deep.
The burdens of leadership wore heavily on any mechs shoulder plates - and Optimus was still young.
Having observed the quiet mech long enough to gauge his current emotional state, Prowl stepped forward, into the silvery sheen of moonlight.
"Talk alone will not shape individuals into a team," he stated with deliberate indifference, coming to a standstill right behind the younger 'bot.
Optimus startled and scrambled back on his pedes in an astrosecond. He pulled his ax from subspace in the same movement; far from elegant, but quickly for a 'bot that weary from low running energy levels. Spotting Prowl, he cycled air through his intakes to cool down his combat ready systems.
"Prowl," he acknowledged, putting his weapon away. A faint trace of resentment lingered in the pitch of his vocalizer; dimming his bright blue optics.
"Prime," Prowl inclined his dark helm a mere fracture in greeting, completely unfazed by the frosty welcome. Rejection grated on his fine sense for energy signatures, but he would not leave, despite finding 'meddling' to be aversive, he deemed it necessary, in this case. So Prowl kept his faceplate blank, but could in turn easily detect the tenseness of coiled musculature in Optimus' red-blue frame.
The air between them, a warm summers breeze even at night, seemed to charge up with things unspoken:
Bitterness.
Accusations.
Shame.
The swirling emotions twisted the situation into a face-off. An undesired battle of wills in absolute silence... but Prowl refused to provide purchase for more, letting every buffeting tendril of emotion bounce off. He had not opted to reveal his presence to make himself a target.
A moment passed in silence, only disturbed by some rodents, rustling around the corner between trash cans, and the far away noise of traffic.
Then Optimus slumped, his shoulder plates drooped, as did his helm, as if any fight left whooshed out of him like air from his vents. "I don't give those speeches because I like to hear my own voice pattern," he stated at last.
In more than one way, this was a disturbing comment, coming from the Prime.
Recognizing the opening for what it was, satisfied that his approach had worked out with such ease, Prowl responded with a firm: "I know."
Thrown off-balance, having expected a scathing rebuke, Optimus shuttered his optics, not able to exclaim something more eloquent than a startled: "What?!"
"Teamwork is essential, especially so in our situation, seeing as we can only rely on each other, - it is only logical."
Optimus shook his helm dejectedly, dropping his carefully crafted mask of a perfect leader completely: "We all realize that. And yet... we almost lost Sari."
Prowl hummed thoughtfully: "But that narrowly avoided event was the first step to teamwork. Because everyone worked together, in the end, which drove Starscream off and saved her."
Prowl paused, letting his words sink in, before he continued: "Precious things are shaped through actions, when all are compelled to act as one. And, Optimus... you seized that moment, turning the tide in the ensuing battle. You led - and they followed you. Willingly."
Now Optimus looked positively stunned, with wide open optics, as if a glitch threatened to crash his processor. Missing the point of this conversation entirely, he blurted: "That was the most you ever talked in the whole vorn I have known you."
Quite similar to Bumblebee, thought Prowl dryly.
Young, indeed. - And deprived of desperately needed recharge, not to mention that the emotional turmoil finally caught up, fusing an undesirable combination.
Prowls visor narrowed slightly, but by then, Optimus was already seriously pondering his words, so he let it slide. Instead of commenting, he used the moment of distraction to slip back to the warehouse on silent pedes, having almost completed the task he had set out to do.
"Prowl, wait, I was unfai-"
"They will become a team, eventually," interrupted Prowl. He did not desire an apology, and, judging by Optimus chagrined tone, he had narrowly avoided one. Prowls frame was already half-way melted with the darkness of the doorway.
"And you?"
The question was spoken softly, yet without any inflection other than a regained composure. It was no hint left of the utter frustration from earlier and devoid of any accusation for Prowls self chosen aloofness.
Of course, Prowl was perfectly aware that he had revealed parts of himself, in acting on his own insights into Optimus character...
"... I am fully capable to work with a team, should the need arise," he allowed, hovering almost beyond the reach of the moonlight.
"But not being part of one?"
The shadows swallowed Prowl's frame whole, as if erasing his very existence.
Optimus waited, not really sure for what. But then, a quite "Not yet" drifted back to him, making his patience worthwhile. - He had much to contemplate.

End

Industrial Sabotage.

blitzwarp — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 16:42:22 GMT

Title: Industrial Sabotage.
Chapter: 1 of 8: INCIDENT.
Author:Blitzwarp (LJ); Rapa-Nuiz (ff.net).
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Summary: When Perceptor is brutally attacked within the Metroplex walls, a calling-card left by a group of Decepticon-funded mercenaries seems to indicate a political motive. But Wheeljack, Red Alert and Nightbeat believe the answer may be closer to home. Pre-TFA.
Pairing or Character(s): Perceptor/Wheeljack, Red Alert, Nightbeat and a bunch of OC's, either borrowed from The AllSpark Almanac Volume 2, previous Transformers continuities or my own head.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or the internet. Or LiveJournal, for that matter.
Warning(s): Violence, slash relationship between Wheeljack and Perceptor.
Author's Note: Set before the events of TFA. I've tried to construct the Cybertronian world as near to what we see in the show/read in the Almanacs as possible, but any concrit on locations or characters would be appreciated.

( When he and Wheeljack had first been moved to the Guild’s private housing, located deep within the walls of Metroplex, Perceptor had spent a good deal of time complaining about what he saw as the gross misuse of resources whilst Wheeljack rolled his optics and unpacked heavy crate after heavy crate. )

Help Bring Back Transformers Animated!

jazzthetiger — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 13:20:40 GMT

Sign this petition --> http://www.petitiononline.com/TFAIDW/petition.html if you enjoy/are a fan of the Transformers Animated series!
It targets the comics, aiming for season 4 to be continued in comics at least, but hopefully if enough people sign it, they might reconsider and continue the cartoon series... I really hope they do!

Repost that link to all the TFA fanbases people! :D

FIC: Inamorato verse - Waltz

wicked3659 — Tue, 22 Feb 2011 23:10:45 GMT

Title: Waltz
Author: wicked3659
Rating: pg13
Warnings: kissing
Verse: Inamorato TFA
Characters/pairing: Prowl x Lockdown, suggested Optimus Prime x Jazz, ensemble.
Summary: General Strika and Lugnut did not expect their engagement party to bring so many together in so many weird and wonderful ways.

Based in the Inamorato verse AU - co-written collection of stories with antepathy and toyzintheattik .

There's no such thing as can't dance

No Victims Only Volunteers (1/?)

stunt_muppet — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 06:28:38 GMT

Title: No Victims Only Volunteers
Chapter: 1/?
Author: stunt_muppet
Characters/Pairings: Blurr-centric, with appearances by Ultra Magnus, Alpha Trion, Perceptor, Wheeljack, Sentinel Prime, and possibly others. No pairings.
Rating: PG-13
Content Advisories: References violence, debilitating injuries, and physical and psychological trauma.
Summary: There is a way back, but it winds through all the dark and narrow places. My take on a "Blurr survives" fic.
Word Count (this chapter): 1861
Notes: Title comes from the song "New Babies; New Toys" by OMD. And yes, it's a WIP. I'm slow that way.

(No Victims Only Volunteers - fake cut to my journal)

[Fic] Depot & Eyes on the Prize

niyazi_a — Fri, 07 Jan 2011 14:20:26 GMT

Title: Depot
Continuity: TFA
Rating: G
Characters: Blackout, Barricade, Cyclonus, Strika
Warnings: none
A/N: During the war, Blackout meets Barricade for the first time.

Title: Eyes on the Prize
Continuity: TFA
Rating: G
Warnings: crack, one hopes
A/N for tfic_contest 'skywarp/thundercracker 'we're in this together'

Snowflakes and Tears

i_stalk_piccolo — Thu, 23 Dec 2010 09:28:06 GMT

TITLE: Snowflakes and Tears
AUTHOR: Me :)
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Sometimes, the best gift a bot can give is to be there for a friend.
GENRE: Hurt/comfort, friendship.
PAIRINGS: ProwlxJazz
OTHER CHARACTERS: Optimus and Prowl friendship.
NOTES: Just a quick Lightverse fic for the Christmas season.
WARNING: CONTAINS SLASH!

.o

Christmas was a tiring holiday. With all the people, music, gifts and chaos--it felt nice to see the celebration end.

Prowl had no complaints. The date coincided with his own assembly anniversary, and he celebrated by eating too much flux cake and drinking more oilnog than he cared to admit. When he wasn't gorging himself or half-passed out across the couch, he was avoiding the mistletoe and Jazz's wandering mouth. Public displays of affection weren't his thing. Sober or overcharged.

In his own private quarters, things were different. He hung mistletoe from a branch of his tree. He invited Jazz inside.

The results were explosive.

Now, Prowl rested contentedly on Jazz's chest. Jazz's steady, quiet intakes indicated deep recharge. The sound did not mask the whisper of snowflakes falling through the hole in the roof of his quarters.

Another sound followed the snowflakes. A breath catching, muffled by a hand.

Prowl would have ignored it, but the noise happened three times in rapid succession. He lifted Jazz's forearm off his side and deftly slipped from his lover's grasp without waking him. Just one of many ninja skills he learned--working around a light sleeper. He stuck his head out the door and turned on his oscillators.

The Christmas tree was still lit. Its vibrations weren't regular, indicating the lights were twinkling. Colored lights confused his visor. He recognized the bot in the room by shape alone.

Optimus sat hunched forward on the couch with one hand over his mouth. He was the source of the muffled noises.

Prowl felt taken aback. It was strange to witness the bot he considered an authority figure in such a state.

He tightened his jaw and shut off his visor. The Christmas light bulbs made his CPU hurt.

"Optimus, sir?" He approached the couch in twelve measured steps.

Optimus' servos rattled in their housings. He'd been caught off guard. At such proximity Prowl could sense the faint, sweet scent of mech fluid. Before Optimus spoke up, Prowl knew what was going on.

"I thought you were recharging." Optimus said. His voice was rougher than usual. He cleared his vocal processor.

Prowl shrugged. He extended his left hand to touch a soft, dry Christmas tree branch. Its mint smell almost overpowered the other odor Optimus obviously hoped to disguise.

"Christmas isn't exactly happy for you, is it?" Prowl asked.

Optimus squirmed where he sat. He made a few noncommittal noises.

"It's...complicated."

Listening to peoples' troubles was an acquired skill. Prowl learned it by offering his ears to Jazz--and having Jazz listen to him.

"Do you, uh, wish to talk about it?"

Optimus' gears clicked as he shook his head. He wiped audibly at his face. "I-I can't yet. I--want to--I just can't. I see you and Jazz, you two are so happy and--"

"--we remind you of a past relationship?"

Optimus covered his mouth again, which muffled his voice, "Y-you could say that."

Prowl reached out, but his fingers only brushed the cold couch. He swept his arm to the left and found Optimus' strong, square shoulder. "I'm sorry."

The shoulder tensed. Optimus whispered, "I don't like it when people see me cry."

"Optimus," Prowl smiled slightly. "I can't see you."

The other mech's servos quivered. He choked out a bitter laugh.

"Thanks..."

Prowl nodded. "You're welcome."

He stood in silence while Optimus' tears became as numerous as the falling snowflakes.

Big Bee, Little Bee

jazzthetiger — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 03:48:15 GMT

Title: Big Bee, Little Bee
Author: jazzthetiger
Rating: K
Pairing or Character(s): Bumblebee, Sari, Prowl, Jazz, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Bulkhead
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters
Summary: Bumblebee is restless by nature, so how do the autobots handle him when an explosion turns him into a sparkling? And a big Bee trapped in a little Bee's body at that!
Warning(s): cuteness and humour?
Author's Note: This is the first time I've posted to a community on LJ and it's my first transformers fanfiction, so be nice =] This fic can also be found on fanfiction.net....

Bumblebee growled impatiently, Sari Sumdac sighed and leant back into the front seat, gazing out of Bumblebee's window in boredom. They were currently on a main freeway in the city of Detroit, heading back from a patrol. Bumblebee had picked Sari up on the way back so they could hang out like they always do on afternoons like this. But they were stuck in a traffic jam, and they weren't going anywhere fast anytime soon. This is what irked Bumblebee the most, and he revved his engine in his growing frustration, momentarily startling his teenaged passenger. Behind him a green SWAT assault vehicle sighed tiredly at his team mates antics, readying himself to talk the yellow police car out of whatever escape plan he had come up with in the five minutes they'd been stuck in traffic.

"Why don't we just transform and walk out of here?"

"And scare the living daylights out of everyone around us, I don't think so" Sari beat him to it.

If Bumblebee's alt mode allowed it, he would've grinned.

Without warning, he placed a police siren on his roof and took off down the emergency lane.

"How about I do this instead!" Bumblebee called to his thrilled passenger over the loud roar of his engine and screeching tires.

Behind him Bulkhead groaned, and would have rolled his optics if he could, then followed after his speedy friend, he was disguised as a SWAT vehicle after all, and he was certain Bumblebee was breaking the speed limit.

Again.

Bumblebee and Sari arrived at the 'abandoned' plant that was home to the autobots, five minutes before Bulkhead.

After having let Sari out and transforming into robot mode, Bumblebee burst into the building dramatically spreading his arms wide and all but shouting

"Guess who's back!"

Moments later Optimus appeared in the room.

"I take it things are still quiet?"

"and incredibly boring"

"Where's Bulkhead?"

"Er…. He was a little slow…" Bumblebee trailed off sheepishly, avoiding optic contact with him.

Optimus groaned in exasperation and face-palmed, Bumblebee had a habit of leaving his team mates behind when he took off after patrols, and it was only a matter of time before something bad happened to either himself or the team mate he'd left behind.

Bumblebee and Sari shared a knowing look.

When Optimus looked up again to speak, they were both gone.

He rolled his optics when moments later, loud upbeat music started playing from the rec. room.

Bulkhead chose that moment to stroll into the building

"Hey boss! Oh… are you okay?"

"Thank you, but I'm fine, Bulkhead"

"Are you sure? You looked a little annoyed when I walked in…"

"I'm fine" Optimus cut in, giving Bulkhead a strained smile.

"Ok then" Bulkhead shrugged, and joined Bumblebee, Jazz and Sari in the rec. room.

Bulkhead sat down on the cement couch and watched as the three happily danced around in front of the TV while the stereo blasted out music, Jazz saw it as a great opportunity to keep himself fit, and his dance moves closely resembled those of break dancing due to his cyber-ninja training. Bumblebee and Sari were more casual with their dancing and simply busted out cool moves as they remembered them from music videos and the like, giggling at failed attempts or applauding well executed ones.

Whilst executing a particularly complicated dance move, Bumblebee had forgotten he was still holding an energon cube he had picked up earlier after the patrol.

Meanwhile the jerky movements caused the energon to slosh around and become unstable, and the pink fluorescent fluid began to glow brighter. Bulkhead noticed this.

"Bumblebee!"

Bumblebee didn't hear him over the music, he almost had it!

By now Jazz had also noticed the glowing cube "Bumblebee, STOP!"

Bumblebee paused, was there something wrong? It was only then he noticed the scorching hot sensation in his servo, with a yelp he dropped the cube. The final jolt from the cube landing on the floor caused the energon to explode at Bumblebee's feet with a flash of blindingly bright white light and a deafening blast.

BOOM!

When the last of the energy blasts faded, the autobots began to recalibrate and online their optics. They were greeted with a scorched rec. room. The giant wall mounted TV near where Bumblebee was last seen standing was shattered and broken beyond recognition, blue sparks of electricity jumped out from exposed wires, the cement couch which they had all dove behind was a crumbling mass of rubble, but worst of all, there was no sign of Bumblebee.

The remaining autobots, Optimus, Ratchet and Prowl burst into the room having being stirred from their activities by the blast.

"what's going on..." Optimus's voice trailed off when he saw the destruction.

"…Bee…." Sari sobbed, tears spilling down her cheeks, and dropping to her knees beside the small black crater that marked the place where Bumblebee had dropped the cube.

A frightened whimper came from underneath the chunks of scorched metal that had once been the stereo systems, causing all gazes to focus there. Jazz warily approached the spot where the small sound originated from, he began to carefully move away chunks of metal so as not to have anything fall on whatever had made that noise. He very nearly dropped the chunk of metal in shock, a pair of large sky blue optics warily peered out at him from their shelter beneath the metal scraps.

Sari had crept closer whilst Jazz was moving the metal and was now watching from behind Jazz.

"…Bee, is that you?" she called out tentatively.

"Squeak!" was the noisy reply as a yellow rounded helm poked out from the shadows, large blue optics round with happiness.

The autobots gasped as a miniature Bumblebee staggered out from underneath the metal shelter and hobbled towards Sari.

Sari squealed with delight and ran up to him, sweeping him off his feet in a hug, and spinning around with him in her arms. "Bee! You're alright!"

Bumblebee could only stare in shock. Something definitely wasn't right here, how did she get so big?

He tried to ask her this, but she didn't seem to notice, and continued grinning obliviously at him. Unbeknownst to poor Bumblebee, who had a habit of speaking his processor and so his thoughts were consequently louder than his voice, he was speaking in chirps and squeaks, or more generally known as sparkling babble.

"You're so cute!" she said grinning and holding him out at arms length to examine him better.

Bumblebee shrieked in alarm when he noticed Jazz crouched down beside Sari. Holy Frag! He was even bigger than he remembered!

"Wow little dude, how'd ya get so small?" Jazz said cheerfully to calm the trembling yellow sparkling in Sari's arms, but managed to do the complete opposite when Bumblebee decided to freak out about his even smaller stature.

A loud thud from the back of the room caught Bumblebee's attention, as it did with most of the bots. Prowl had done the robot equivalent of fainting and fallen into stasis lock upon the sight of Bumblebee as a sparkling, he was trouble enough as a fully grown mech after all. If there's one thing Bumblebee wouldn't turn down, it was an invitation to fluster the police motorcycle in any way possible, which was a pretty tough challenge. Bumblebee grinned mischievously (the sparkling equivalent was an incredibly endearing little smile) and pointed to Prowl, squirming a little in Sari's arms to get the point across better.

"Oh you wanna go see Prowl?" Sari asked, already walking towards Prowl who lay uncharacteristically sprawled across the floor.

Bumblebee giggled excitedly, Prowl obviously didn't like whatever had happened to him, and he was going to make the most of it.

Meanwhile, Bulkhead and Jazz where explaining to Optimus and Ratchet what had happened to cause the explosion. But they hadn't the slightest clue how Bumblebee had become a sparkling.

Sari let Bumblebee down beside Prowl, and watched as he crept closer and closer, wobbling a little on his pedes as he went, and stopped when he was close enough to tentatively poke the unconscious transformer's cheek.

No response.

He pouted, and then poked Prowl again, with a little more force.

Again, nothing.

Bumblebee whined with frustration and crawled onto the motorcycle-former's chassis and sat there peering down at his face, eagerly awaiting the moment when Prowl onlined to (hopefully) give him the scare of his life.

About six cycles later Prowl onlined wondering vaguely why his processor was aching so much, that was until he onlined his optics to find a little yellow bundle of joy perched on his chassis. Bumblebee gave an extra loud squeak of joy upon seeing Prowl's visor flicker with blue light, and the black robot beneath him jerked a little as a new wave of pain wove it's way into his already aching processor. Prowl slowly sat up, prying Bumblebee off his chassis and disdainfully depositing the yellow bundle into Sari's arms as if he were infected with cosmic rust. Then stood up and left without uttering a single word to the two rather disappointed youths.

Bumblebee huffed with annoyance then directed an enquiring warble to Sari as though he were asking 'what was that all about?', which was precisely what he was thinking. Sari just shrugged, even though she wasn't entirely sure that his chatter would actually translate into anything.

Now little Bee was bored, he sighed and rested his chin on Sari's shoulder, his blue optics scanning the room for anything interesting, then chirped in surprise when he noticed the rec. room was a disaster zone. He whined sadly at the wreck that was the TV, Sari followed his gaze and sighed at the mess.

"When you make a mess, you really make a mess…" she mused.

Bumblebee grinned proudly at this statement and couldn't suppress the happy giggle before it escaped his vocaliser, causing him to quickly cover his mouth with his small servos in a vain attempt to stifle his laughter.

"I don't see what's so funny, we've got to clean it up!" she said in a reprimanding tone, causing Bumblebee's grin to widen at her complaints.

"Right, I'll go see what the others are talking about and you stay here, and be good!" She warned after placing Bumblebee on the ground and tapping him lightly on the nose to emphasise her point, before walking off to the five robots in the next room.

Bumblebee stood there dumbfounded at having lost his safe haven in Sari's warm arms, all of a sudden, everything seemed so big and scary.

She can't leave him there! Some-bot might step on him! Hey, come back!

All of this of course was communicated through loud squawks, chirps and squeaks, which Sari understood none of (but knew Bee was going to protest), leaving the frustrated little robot alone in the rec. room.

Now noticing how utterly-and-mind-blowingly large the rec. room was, and all the intriguing little obstacles the various bits of scrap metal created, Bee decided that his wait was not going to be so boring after all.

Meanwhile, after much discussion, the autobots of the earth base were still perplexed about Bumblebee's change, surely an energon explosion didn't cause it?

"I wouldn't be surprised if it has something to do with Sari's key" said Ratchet, in his usual grouchy voice, still vaguely annoyed at having being disturbed from his stasis nap.

"What makes you say that?" Optimus asked, raising an optic ridge at the seemingly random comment, but nonetheless curious about the reasoning.

"Well, she has used it that many slagging times to heal us, primus! I wouldn't be too surprised if there was some twisted side effect!" he replied folding his arms across his red and white chassis.

"Hmm… he has a point, there is likely to be some sort of residual energy from the continual exposure… I wouldn't put it past the power of the all spark to cause obscure changes to a cybertronian, just look at what it did to Sari." Prowl added.

"Not to mention Sari was present at the time of the explosion, and the amount of time the two spend together could have some effect" Optimus continued, finding the hypothesis likely.

"How would the amount of time I spend with Bee affect him?" Sari interrupted, having heard the exchange between Optimus and Prowl as she entered the room.

"Well Sari, when you upgraded yourself with the key, the essence of the all spark would have been transferred to you, and this residual essence, which should be stronger in you than in any of us who have been healed by it, could have had an impact on Bumblebee's change into a sparkling. But out of all the autobots, I believe the essence of the all spark is the most concentrated in Bumblebee due to the constant close proximity to you." Optimus explained, whilst Sari nodded, understanding.

"So umm if we repeated it, would Bee change back?" Sari asked.

The five giant robots exchanged uncertain glances; Ratchet was the first to speak.

"Well kid, probably not"

"Why?"

"It just sounds too easy, and things can't always work like that, how can we know for sure that it won't make Bumblebee younger? Or even worse..." Ratchet trailed off.

"Hey, where is Bumblebee?" Bulkhead asked, wanting to see his yellow friend.

"He's in the rec. room" Sari replied nonchalantly

"Alone?" Jazz ventured, even though it was stating the obvious, Bumblebee was the only mech not present.

"If Bumblebee is anything like his former self, that was probably not a good idea to leave him to his own devices…" Prowl trailed off realising the others had left halfway through his sentence, and cautiously followed.

Bumblebee's spark pulsed wildly as he swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding a painful collision with a chunk of cement originating from the couch as he continued his high-speed race around the rec. room, darting in and out of the scraps of metal and having an absolute ball. He shrieked with joy as he raced up a panel forming a ramp, and sailed two meters above the ground before landing with a squeal of his little tires and roar of his engine as he gunned it towards the next turn. His drift around the corner turned into a power slide sending clouds of soot into the air whilst he righted himself and gunned his engine again, aiming to reach top gear this time on the long stretch before the next turn near the doorway. All of a sudden, a pair of red and white pedes appeared in the middle of the track, barely three meters ahead. Bumblebee braked hard, swerved and transformed, stumbling then rolling to a stop in front of the pedes. He let out a string of cybertronian and human curses, which to the audios of everyone else was only a series of angry shrieks and squawks, and to illustrate his point better, the yellow sparkling hopped up and down on the spot whist waving his fists up at the offender.

How dare they interrupt his fun!

The offender had been Ratchet, the unfortunate bot to walk through the door first; the CMO was shocked upon seeing the yellow sparkling shoot around the corner in his alt mode, resembling one of those remote controlled toy vehicles the humans invented. According to the medic's knowledge, a sparkling should not be capable of transforming into any alt mode, and yet here was Bumblebee in a miniature version of his former alt mode and controlling it with his usual enthusiasm.

A collective gasp had followed as the autobots behind Ratchet watched Bumblebee transform back into his alt mode and zip around the corner, the buzzing of his engines grew louder as he gained speed and the squeal of tires followed as he drifted around another corner, oblivious to his onlookers and their shock. Sari however was not surprised, she knew nothing of what was normal for a sparkling and merely rolled her eyes as Bumblebee tore around the corner again for a second lap around the room.

"Yep, he's still the same old Bee" she commented as she watched his haphazard slide around the sharp bend marked by the sharp edges of two shards of glass, obviously trying to make every turn as dangerous and thrilling as he could without losing control.

Ratchet had had enough of watching Bumblebee putting himself in danger, and sensing that Bumblebee would continue until he was warranted with a trip to his med bay, decided to end his fun. He waited for Bumblebee to come past the door again and then with surprising speed and accuracy, grasped the little car around his sides and lifting him whilst his wheels spun uselessly in the air. With a shriek of outrage, Bumblebee transformed and fixed Ratchet with a thoroughly annoyed glare, which Ratchet was quick to reciprocate.

"Can't you have fun without being reckless for once?" Ratchet said in a scolding tone whilst wearing his trademark scowl, he was dangling a writhing Bumblebee near his face between his thumb and forefingers threatening to drop him. Bumblebee quickly became still upon noticing his precarious predicament and whimpered whilst he gave Ratchet a pleading look. The CMO was the only robot on base that could resist Bee's puppy dog optics, well almost, Ratchets softened a bit as he spoke

"Sparklings get hurt so easily you know…"

Now it was Bee's turn to be shocked as the medic handed him over to Bulkhead, who was eagerly awaiting a chance to hold him.

He was a sparkling!

His world as he knew it had crumbled around him leaving him alienated, meanwhile he was sitting on Bulkhead's servo with a horror-stricken expression, which was starting to worry Bulkhead.

For the second time that day, Bumblebee freaked out.

And when Bee freaked out, boy was he loud.

No FRAGGING way! I AM NOT A SPARKLING! I'm not I'm not I'M NOT!

He chanted aloud, but shrieked louder when he heard (and finally realised) that only wails and shrieks escaped his vocaliser.

Meanwhile the poor bots closest to him had reeled backwards from the strength of Bee's voice covering their audios with their servos, unfortunately, Bulkhead could not, he was still holding a screaming Bumblebee, and man! Could the little bot scream! Bulkhead reckoned he was loud enough to rival Starscream, but sadly, that thought was not helping him appease the distressed sparkling.

Eventually Bumblebee quietened to a quivering, hiccuping bundle cradled against Bulkheads massive green chassis. His outburst had tired him and he fell into recharge as Bulkhead rocked him to sleep. When Bumblebee's venting became regular as a sign of being in full recharge, the occupants of the room released a collective sigh of relief.

"Hmm... what caused that upstart…?" Ratchet broke the silence.

"That is one reason I dislike sparklings" Prowl added before stalking off to his room.

"I wasn't being rough was I?" Bulkhead asked his voice thick with concern.

"No, not at all" Jazz reassured him with a smile and soothing tone "It's been a long day for the little guy, things probably got a bit too overwhelming for him that's all" he continued, though it was to reassure the other nervous bots as much as it was to reassure himself.

However, they all knew this was only the beginning of their troubles with sparkling Bumblebee…

When Bumblebee onlined again he found himself in his own berth, he chirped in surprise when he noticed Sari curled up beside him, wrapped up in her sleeping gear. It still seemed weird to him that the techno-organic was now larger than him, but he doubted he could really get used to it either. His fuel tanks rumbled, reminding him that he was in need of some energon. There was a problem with that, he wouldn't be able to reach the energon cubes in the storage room anymore, and Sari was still peacefully asleep. Rather than wake her, it was a rather early hour in the morning after all, he opted for sneaking out of the room and into the dark hallway.

Well maybe not sneaking, it was more like stumbling.

Bee was well and truly frustrated that he couldn't walk in a straight line, or was it that he couldn't take more than ten steps without tripping over his own pedes?

So he stayed near the wall, that way he had something to lean on, and he was out of the way of any unsuspecting passer-by's pedes so he wouldn't get stepped on.

What Bee wanted was to find someone already awake at this hour to get him energon, and he knew just the bot.

The yellow sparklings ambling led him to Prowl's room, which on most occasions, he would stay well and truly away from, but at the crack of dawn, he was usually the only bot online, and Bee needed his help.

There was just one little problem.

Alright, a major problem.

Bee couldn't talk, so how was he going to communicate what he wanted?

Just as Bee predicted, the police cycle was meditating -for primus' sake, was he humming!- beneath his beloved tree.

Bumblebee never liked the humming thing the ninja bot insisted on doing, so he did not hesitate to try and interrupt Prowl's meditation.

Standing next to the ninja bot, he chirped and poked his arm.

Prowl's humming did not falter, nor did he so much as twitch.

Bumblebee growled impatiently and shook Prowl's arm.

The humming paused, and Prowl readjusted his position, then began humming again, all without on lining his optics even once.

Bumblebee bristled with irritation, he really did not like that humming thing now.

This time Bee gathered himself before releasing a deafeningly high-pitched shriek, right next to Prowl's audios.

Poor Prowl.

The ninja bot had been torn straight out of meditation with the audio shattering cry echoing inside his processor.

"GAH!"

Bumblebee watched his handiwork take effect with a satisfied smirk as Prowl shot up from his relaxed state, optics wide, before his face settled into a pained grimace.

"What do you want, Bumblebee?" Prowl said tiredly, whilst fixing Bumblebee with an annoyed glare after his audios had stopped ringing.

Bee folded his arms over his chassis and pouted before throwing his servos in the air in exasperation.

Does he honestly expect me to be able to tell him that!

Prowl watched the yellow sparkling as he glared at him and spoke in jittering squeaks, a language that clearly had meaning to Bumblebee, but not to Prowl. Thankfully, body language was a universal language, and Bumblebee's frustration was clearly communicated. Unfortunately, that was not telling Prowl that Bee wanted an energon cube.

Bee noticed that Prowl was studying him, and settled on charades to try and reach some common understanding.

The sparkling clutched his abdomen in an exaggerated motion, and then stood straight and pretended to drink something. To Bumblebee's relief, Prowl caught on quickly.

"Hmm… You want some energon?" The ninja bot asked with a small frown.

Bumblebee chirped and nodded his helm eagerly.

"So that's what you came here for…" Prowl mused.

Again, Bee nodded, at this Prowl's expression brightened, and he stood up and strolled out of the room.

Less than a cycle later, Prowl returned holding an energon cube and sat down next to the yellow sparkling, Bee greeted him with a loud chirp whilst reaching for the cube. Prowl held it out of reach and frowned, noticing that the cube was over half Bumblebee's size. He mentally shrugged and pulled Bumblebee into his lap, then pierced a corner of the cube with his teeth and held it out to Bee. Bumblebee had gone rigid and was staring at Prowl with an utterly mortified expression. Prowl frowned and gently pushed the cube closer to Bumblebee's face, which the yellow sparkling responded to by shoving the cube backwards and turning his helm away, blushing furiously.

No way! I am not letting Prowler feed me like I'm some sparkling!

To Prowl the message was clear, 'I'll do it myself' and he chuckled at Bee's antics knowing that the little mech couldn't carry the cube without assistance.

Bumblebee's empty tanks rumbled again and when Prowl patiently, but persistently, held the energon cube towards him, he hesitantly reached for it, then paused and shot the ninja bot a warning glare, before pulling it closer and sucking hungrily at the corner where the pink fluid seeped out from.

Bumblebee shifted in Prowl's lap getting comfortable, still suckling at the cube, his large blue optics half closed in contentment as the energon reached his empty tanks. Prowl couldn't suppress the smirk that graced his normally stoic features as he heard a contented rumbling purr begin from the little yellow chassis.

Prowl returned to a light meditative state, knowing that the sparkling in his lap will only disturb him again soon so it wasn't worth going back into deeper meditation (and doing the humming thing that Bee hated).

This was how Jazz found them, the motorcycle-former with his legs crossed and optics offline in meditation, one arm resting on his thigh supporting Bumblebee's helm, the other holding an energon cube to the little yellow sparkling snuggled into his lap, suckling at the cube, his little servos grasping the container and angling it up slightly. The white sports car smiled warmly, indeed, they looked cute together.

"Naaw! Kodak moment!"

Jazz blinked down in surprise at the techno-organic standing beside him, he hadn't heard her approach, Sari grinned up at him and positioned herself into a ninja-esque pose, silently explaining how she had managed to sneak up on the cyber-ninja.

But the comment had the desired effect, both Prowl and Bee's helms snapped up to see their audience before shooting each other embarrassed looks. Bee decided he'd had enough energon at that moment and pushed the cube back, scooting away from Prowl.

Prowl smoothly stood up and greeted them

"It seems that everyone is having an early morning today"

"I wouldn't call this early, Prowler" Jazz chirped, ever cheerful, he often joined Prowl in his early morning meditation.

"I was looking for Bee… HEY!" The little yellow mech interrupted Sari as he bowled into her, sending them both sprawling across the floor in fits of giggles.

"Come on Bee, let's go back to your room before we wake the rest of them up" Sari said, picking herself and Bumblebee up off the ground.

"Too late for that!" came the all too familiar narky tone of a rather cranky looking medic.

Bee and Sari threw each other comical wide-eyed looks that could very easily translate into 'Oh frag!'

"Uhh… Sorry, Ratchet! We'll just be going now!" Sari said nervously, clutching Bumblebee to her chest and sidestepping around the red and white ambulance, before dashing off down the still-dark hallway into Bee's room.

Once the door was closed, she leant back against it and slid down, sighing in relief

"That was a close one…"

Bumblebee, still clutched to her chest blinked slowly in silent agreement, not yet brave enough to make a sound.

Truth be told, he was still trying to get his processor around being a sparkling, having Prowl hand feed him an energon cube had dealt a hard blow to his pride, and he was silently contemplating how much more humiliation he had yet to go through. How was he going to support his friends and teammates if he couldn't help himself?

The very prospect of having nearly all his independence lost was too much to bear, and he whined sadly, his little shoulders drooping.

"What's wrong Bee?" Sari asked in a soft voice, after noticing his usual spirited mood dampen in a matter of seconds for unknown reasons.

Bumblebee turned his helm away, avoiding her gaze, he didn't want to be pitied or anything of the sort. Sari frowned, and cupped the side of his helm, gently turning it so he faced her again and seeing his worried expression.

"If it's about being stuck as a sparkling, don't worry, you'll get used to it" she said in a soft reassuring tone, gently stroking one of his horns with her thumb.

Bumblebee yelped and jerked backwards in surprise, earning a confused stare from Sari.

That hurt!

Sari watched the wincing sparkling with an apologetic expression, which Bumblebee responded with a reassuring chirp but slightly puzzled expression, before tentatively reaching up to his other horn and gently touching it. The little mech yelped again as sharp pain lanced through his horns and down the sides of his helm. He had not noticed the dull ache in his horns before, but it was certainly making itself known now. Bee began to whimper and clutch the sides of his helm as the pain got worse, a dull ringing sound starting to fill his audios. As the pain increased, the ringing sound got louder, until it drowned out every other sound, including Sari yelling for help.

Ok so that's all I'm going to post today, as I said before it's on fanfiction.net and there's another four chapters to it so if you really wanna read more you can search for it there =]
Anyways, I hope you liked it! ^^

Uncoiling

ace_of_the_arts — Sat, 23 Oct 2010 11:21:28 GMT

Title: Uncoiling
Author: AotA
Rating: T
Warnings: non graphic mech secks at the end
Characters: Sentinel Prime, Prowl, Ratchet
Setting: TFA, this takes the arrival of the Elite Guard and chops off pretty much everything afterward, very, very, very AU that way
Summary: If you take the “glitch-head” out of Sentinel Prime, what are you left with?
Notes: I wrote this just because I could. What better reason does a writer need? Does anyone write this pair? I didn’t see one at tf_rare_pairing . And I did look.

“Some people have a way about them that seems to say: "If I have only one life to live, let me live it as a jerk.”

Hi there! I don't normally hang out in the TFA zone but I wrote a TFA rare pair so I hunted down this place. So hello, and adios amigos.

Bumblebee's Dress

prophetbot — Mon, 26 Jul 2010 05:28:34 GMT

Title: Bumblebee's Dress
Verse: TFA
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairings: Optimus/Bumblebee, Sari
Warnings: Nothing, really, unless you greatly appall the thought of Bee in a dress.
Disclaimer: I don't own any form of Transformers nor am I using any of my creations in this fandom for profit.
Author's Note: This was a prompt bunny that I adopted from burningxblue . I probably ended up doing the unexpected, but I loved the idea, so of course I had to pick up this amazing little bunny! And, thankfully, it didn't bite me!
Prompt: Bumblebee decides that out of all the Autobots, he looks the best in a dress.
Summary: Bumblebee is set out to prove that he is the most attractive bot in a dress, although Optimus tries to convince him he doesn't need it.

“Sari, why do you wear that thing instead of armor?” The question had simply popped into the mech’s processor completely out of the blue, as most things usually did. Bumblebee knew well enough that the human-Cybertronian hybrid girl had taken to wearing those garments that humans usually did before she’d found out the truth of her being, but now that she had a choice, it was a mystery to him why she didn’t simply choose to keep her armor plating on all the time. If Bee were in her situation, he would cover an awkward, half-fleshy body with protection 24/7.

After giving the yellow bot an odd look, the teen scoffed, placing her dark skinned hands on her hips and showing off curves that Bee knew she hadn’t sported as an eight year old child. He’d always found it odd how much she’d blossomed seemingly overnight, although there were certainly stranger things that have happened over the past couple of weeks. “What, you mean my dress?” she finally asked, motioning from her torso to the tops of her thighs with one hand, “I’m still a girl and half organic, in case you haven’t noticed. Why don’t you stay in vehicle mode all the time?”

Bee’s optics flashed a couple of times, a picked up human habit that could be referred to as blinking. “Because I don’t need to, of course. It’s much easier to get around in this form.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, a chagrin forming on her almost impish features. “My armor plating is kinda heavy. Anyway, don’t you think my dress is pretty? I mean, I thought I always pulled the look off before, but my new body handles this thing like a dream.” Bee continued to “blink” at her. Yes, she was obviously full of herself, but that was no different than any other day. What was so appealing about a “dress”, anyway? It wasn’t like it protected anything, even if it was easier to move about in.

“What are you saying, then?” Bee questioned her carefully, his optics squinting as his processor whirred possible explanations around in his head. “Is a… dress supposed to be some kind of flesh covering and a secret weapon to lure mates? Slag! Just when I thought I was getting the hang of human culture...”

Cue another awkward look from Sari, which also resulted in the hybrid running a hand down her face in frustration. “No, no… Well, kinda. It’s comfortable and, uh, alluring, I guess, if the right person wears it. Depending on the dress, too, I guess. But you have to look good to wear one. Otherwise you’ll just embarrass yourself.” The vibe Bee was getting was that Sari already determined that she had the good looks to wear a dress. And from as far as he could remember, she always wore one. They just became more… defined now that she appeared older.

“Hey! I look good!” Bumblbee suddenly felt the urge to defend his attractiveness, not that Sari was diminishing it or anything, but the way she said it just nudged him the wrong way. “Are you saying I can’t pull off a dress?”

Sari’s human optics widened in surprise, her frame suddenly trembling in an attempt to hold back a forcible laughter. “W—what?!” A snigger. “Bumblebee, you? Aren’t you like, a guy, or something? You can’t wear a dress! Besides, I didn’t say you didn’t look good… errr… I just mean, you know, in general. You wouldn’t see someone like my dad walking around wearing a dress.” Both bot and hybrid suppressed a shudder at the thought. “I mean, besides the fact that he’s a guy and he’s kinda old, he’s not exactly what a human would call good looking. No offense to my dad, of course, but… just no.”

“I guess you could say I’m like a guy, in human terms, but it’s not like that,” Bumblebee huffed, not thoroughly convinced that Sari was coming up with the right arguments. “We’re technically genderless and choose our voice processors based on preference when we’re old enough. But, enough of that! I’m proving you wrong right here and now missy!” The yellow mech suddenly stood up on the couch in their plant’s—as Sari had dubbed it—living room, pointing a single digit from his right servo at her squarely in the forehead.

She stared up at him in a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa… what now?

“Dress me up right now, Sari! If anyone out of the Autobots has the privilege of looking dashing in a human garment, it’s me!”

It took several breems to convince his hybrid companion to give in to his demands and two joors in which the mech waited impatiently at the plant while she took to the Detroit shopping district in order to select a big enough garment for him. She had insisted that he didn’t come with her to get it, since it was embarrassing enough to be shopping for a plus size dress (despite where Bee stood on Autobot standards, he wasn’t the human equivalent of petite), let alone be shopping alongside a portrayed male robot.

When he returned, Sari secretively ushered Bumblebee into the room she had resided in while her father had been kidnapped and firmly locked the deadbolt so no one thought to randomly decide they wanted to see what the two friends were up to. In fact, Bee could have sworn he’d seen Prowl around the corner before they’d come in. Was it really that embarrassing to Sari?

It turned out she had two selections. The first, a complimentary blue to Bee’s overpowering yellow paint job, and the second, a hardened black. For a few cycles, he was leaning towards the blue, until a comment from Sari about matching made him settle for the black. It was less complex on the optics, actually, with two spaghetti strings hanging loosely in the back, open sleeves to accommodate for Bee’s shoulders, and an arched v-neck to expose his obviously flat chest plates.

“It’s perfect, Sari!” Bee chirped excitedly, poking at the garment with curious digits. She rolled her eyes as she held it up and then clutched it to her chest.

“You say that now, but I’m telling you that it’ll look completely ridiculous,” she warned, but in the end couldn’t hold back a grin. Bumblebee was positively reveling in his own certainty, giving off a radiance that she couldn’t help but bask in. Well, if he wanted it so badly, then as one of his best friends, she simply had to oblige.

Even as the smallest mech, he was overbearingly taller than her, so she had him sit flat on the ground while she rolled up the dress to the neck and swung it around his head, careful to avoid his horns in case they accidentally tore the fabric. When it fell and hung on Bee’s shoulders, she had him stand again so she could pull it properly down. At full height, the dress came to an end a couple of inches above his armored knee caps.

Sari stepped away a couple of feet and poked out her bottom lip in thought, tapping her chin as she admired her work. “Hmm… oh!” Remembering the strings at the back of the dress, she rounded him and pulled them tightly to tie the two straps together in a neat little bow. Bumblebee, curious, lifted his arm to attempt peering at what she was doing. The dress hugged his box-like form once the strings were tightened, although, Sari silently admitted, he did have a unique figure, especially around his hips. “It needs something.” Her girlish instincts were kicking in, causing a lightbulb to pop in her head. “Aha! I know just the thing. Wait here, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Bumblebee, speechless, watched her unlatch the locks on her old room and dart out faster than a normal human should be able to. Then again, she wasn’t a normal human. Unfortunately for her earlier try at secrecy, she’d left the door mostly open. “Slag, she didn’t even let me look at myself yet!” The yellow bot mimicked a pout, glancing around for any type of reflective surface in her room but finding none. There was, however, a one-way glass mirror in the factory that he knew of. Not that he’d ever needed to look at himself in a mirror before, but now that he had something on him that he wanted to see—and to possibly show off—he at least knew it where he would be able to do that.

All sensible thoughts of staying hidden until Sari returned thrown out of his processor, Bumblebee skirted out of the room, metallic clangs echoing every time his balancing servos hit the floor. His pace must have been what had alerted the other bot in the area, for not long after Bee left Sari’s old room did his leader curiously come around the corner—and immediately stop dead in his tracks.

“B – Bumblebee? What in Primus’s name are you wearing?”

A questioning ‘hmm?’ left Bee’s vocal processor, having been too preoccupied with heading halfway across the plant that he hadn’t really anticipated anyone approaching. The utter shock appeared to be the understatement of the day, and soon Bumblebee found himself becoming increasingly self-conscious, something that normally never bothered the young mech.

“I, er, um… it’s a—uh—dress. You know… the flesh covering thing that humans usually wear. Sari wears one!” Bumblebee offered the second statement quickly, hoping that it would somehow justify the fact that he was wearing one himself. Optimus’s optics were widened so severely that Bee was sure his receptors were probably sending him pain signals from the effort.

The Prime instantly took to shaking his head after coping with his initial shock. He had to remind himself that this was Bumblebee, and if any bot could convey himself with illogical and, not to mention, unpredictable instability, it was the little yellow mech. “I’m not… entirely sure I want to know what compelled you to wear such a thing, do I?”

Suddenly, the smaller bot felt the urge to defend himself again. Did everyone oversee his alien attractiveness? Oh shame, shame! “What? Sari explained to me that it’s a human ritual garment used to attract mates. And, c’mon, it’s not like I need the help, but it has to compliment something on me, right? Right?” Okay, well, maybe Sari hadn’t exactly put the definition in those exact words, but Bee was good at reading between the lines. A little, at least. He widened his own crystalline optics, staring up at the now startled looking Prime expectantly.

Now that it was put into question, Prime couldn’t keep his own optics from wandering. The dress was, simply put, a bit ridiculous to be placed on a robotic frame, especially since it was made for humans and not for Autobots. Still, the strings that attached at the back of the dress put a little too much emphasis on Bumblebee’s slim waist, something that Optimus instantly knew he shouldn’t be paying special attention to noticing.

“I… suppose…”

The look that Bee gave the boss bot then was akin to Sari’s puppy dog stare, one that usually allowed the hybrid to attain anything she wanted when used correctly.

“I mean… well, it’s… nice. You look… nice.”

Then those beautifully reflective optics hardened in distaste, the yellow mech puffing hot air through his vocal processor vents where a human mouth would be. “Oh, nice, Bumblebee, you look nice, just like any other bot out there!” he mocked, inwardly blanching in knowing that, perhaps, he wasn’t the best looking Autobot in a dress.

“Huh…? No..! That’s… not what I meant,” Optimus tried once more, visibly appearing to frown while one of his servos lifted to allow nimble digits and his palm to rub against the back of his head, a very human gesture he’d picked up from his time on Earth. His processor tried to piece together Bumblebee’s sudden attitude, arriving at a possible conclusion that the younger mech wanted to be better than someone at something. And it made sense, since Blurr had taken “the fastest thing on wheels” from him. For a couple cycles, he took in Bee’s obvious pouting, and then the dress once more. “Bumblebee… You look exquisite. And you don’t need a dress to appear so.”

It’s was Bee’s turn to mimic the human expression of shock. He took a brief intake through his vents, optics wavering while they skimmed over the stoned features of his leader. “Really…? You mean that?” The bot sounded hopeful, but then again, it wasn’t in Optimus’s nature to lie. Instead, the young bot’s spark fluttered pleasantly against its metal casing in his chest at the baritone of the Prime’s laughter.

“Of course I do, Bumblebee. Come here,” Optimus instructed, his kind optics drifting over Bee’s form as the smaller one obliged. Once within reach, he slipped strong, metal arms over Bee’s back, feeling out the knot from the bow that tied the dress and pulled it gently apart. With minimal protest on Bumblebee’s half, Optimus tugged the dress over the top of the yellow mech’s head, and once it was completely removed, tossed the garment listlessly over his shoulder.

“Well,” Bumblebee began softly, his cheek plates heating from the close proximity to his leader’s grill, before adding stubbornly, “I’m still the best looking Autobot in a dress. There’s no denying it, boss bot.”

Optimus laughed again, quieter this time, as firm servos returned to clasp gently against Bumblebee’s back and push the smaller mech up against him. Neither of them seemed to notice that Sari had crept up around the corner Optimus had appeared from, sneakily watching them with a cotton black material—a shawl—clasped in her hands.

“I’m not denying it. But you’re also the most stunning creature with a spark. No human garment has any participation in that.”

They also didn’t seem to notice that Sari had been recording the scene with her sensory optics, trying not to snigger at picturing their faces when she uploaded it and showed it to Ratchet, Bulkhead or even Prowl. Oh, screw the dress, this was even better blackmail.

Lololol.

Fic: The Best Reason

niyazi_a — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 17:02:57 GMT

Title: The Best Reason
Verse: TFA (Inamorato AU)
Pairing: Blackout/Barricade
Rating: PG
Warnings: fluff and kissing!

The same AU as the story wicked3659 posted here yesterday--it's a collaborative project among a bunch of us and you can find it here: Cybertronian Nights on FFN.

Click here for b'awwwicade!

FIC: Awake

wicked3659 — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 18:53:26 GMT

Title: Awake
Author: wicked3659
Verse: TFA Inamorato/Cybertronian Nights
Pairing: Prowl x Lockdown
Rating: pg13
Warnings: hinted non con, mech x mech
Summary: Is having his friends around him enough to help him recover from the attack by Oilslick? Or does Prowl need something more?

Thanks to antepathy for the beta ^_^

The soft whirs of the machines were the first things to creep into his audio. He had no idea how long he’d been lying there, just listening, waiting for some movement, a voice, anything. He couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t been inclined to on line his optics, but every time he initiated his sub-routines to do just that, his processor entered into a feedback loop and forced him unconscious once more.

Now he just lay, waiting, not entirely sure where he was lying or why every time he tried to wake up he had, what a human would describe as a panic attack. Something had obviously happened but try as he might; he had no recollection of anything past boarding a transport with Optimus to visit Sari and Bumblebee on Earth. Giving in to the urge to try again and to boredom, Prowl activated his sub-routines to on line his optics once more. He was suddenly filled with an intense processor ache as recharge stole his consciousness away and a soft frustrated murmur escaped his vocaliser. “Not again…”

****
Dream/Flashback

The room was dark, he could hear activity in the next room and there was a thin sliver of light peeking out from beneath the door. He tried to move but it was to no avail, he was securely strapped down, much to the complaint of his joints. His spark lurched as the door opened and he shrank back against the thin padding of the berth. A shadowy figure entered the small room and approached him, he heard a despairing whimper leave his own vocaliser and he was filled with an absolute terror as the large shadow whispered his name and leaned over him.

****

It had been the same every night, the mech thrashed and mewled on the berth, his visor dark, his processor still deeply in recharge. Sometimes Ratchet had even had to relent and strap the slender mech down to prevent him from hurting himself. Tonight though there was just him. Ratchet had told him to try not to touch him or hold him just in case he woke up and was locked in a memory purge and mistook Lockdown for someone else.

The mech’s slender fingers dug in and raked along the padding of the berth and he cried out sharply, reliving some untold nightmare that Oilslick had put him through and all Lockdown could do was stand and watch. He winced as the black and gold frame suddenly arched on the berth and keened with despair and pain.

Lockdown had had enough. It was time for Prowl to come back to reality; it was bad enough that Oilslick had trapped him in his youth and again on his ship quite recently, but Lockdown was going to be damned to the pits if Oilslick was going to claim the ninja’s sanity now he’d been rescued.

Perching on the edge of the berth, he firmly, but not too hard, took hold of Prowl’s arms, stilling his movements to gently call out his name in an attempt to shake him out of his recharge.

“Prowl, Prowl! Come on kid, it’s not real, come back t’ us, ya don’t belong there…wake up kid!”

****

He could hear his name being whispered and the whisper grew to a worried shout, he recoiled as the shadow became a weight bearing down on him and the dark light of his spark made him turn away in horror. “No… please not this…” He could hear himself begging, shame filling his spark at the pitiful sound.

“Prowl, come on! Prowl!”

The shouts became more urgent, more insistent and he became filled with a deep set anger, with a snarl he shoved back at the shadowy assailant and pushed himself up, intent on his escape only to find himself panting heavily against a warm chassis dimly lit by warm soft lighting, strong arms wrapping about his lithe frame, holding him close.

“It’s alright kid; I got ya… ya safe now.”

Prowl blinked and shakily clung onto the green and black frame, he knew that voice. Memories of his recharge faded into shadow and he peered up at the familiar white maw looking down at him with concern.

“Lockdown…?” His voice sounded painfully thin, weak. Prowl frowned what in the All Spark was going on? He pushed back from Lockdown’s tight embrace and scanned over himself in confusion. He stared at the energon drips and the pliable metal covering his repaired plating. The dull coloured metal was there for protection while his self repair programs integrated the new plating beneath. His brow creased and he looked back at the hunter. “Safe from what?”

****
“What do ya mean he doesn’t remember anythin’, doc?” Jazz’s face was grim; his arms folded over his chest as Ratchet sighed deeply and repeated his diagnosis.

“Exactly what I said. He doesn’t remember the attack, any of it.”

“But he’s havin’ memory purges every night.” Lockdown interrupted his voice unnaturally quiet.

“You’re here every night?” Optimus replied his brow knitted in concern.

“What of it, hot shot?”

Ratchet growled and immediately stepped in-between the two mechs, sensing the growing tension. He shot a subtle glance at Jazz who simply shook his head with a flicker of his visor, equivalent to a human rolling their eyes. “Now that’s enough you two. I didn’t stand for your mech egos before and I’m not standing for it in my med bay. Prowl needs all of us to be on the same page right now. You are both his friends, regardless of your feelings for the ‘bot –”

“–Ratchet!” Optimus countered in startled surprise, instantly silencing when the medic shot him a dark glare.

“Regardless of your mutual feelings for him, at least try to act like you don’t hate each other. That mech doesn’t need either of your slag right now.”

The two mechs ducked their optics sheepishly and turned away from each other. Optimus folded his arms and went to stand by Jazz who looked more than a little uncomfortable at the situation.

Lockdown glowered, his ruby optics narrow and staring off into the med bay, focused on the black and gold mech smiling down at the chattering red haired vision of Sari, who every so often would cling to his plating in a tight hug. The sight of the bike alive and more or less well made his spark leap in his chest. He was filled with a deep sense of relief but also worry as to where to go from here. Being apart from the dark mech made his chest hurt, he could barely stand to have him out of his sight and to think what Oilslick did and almost did to him made the energon in his very body, boil with rage.

He pushed the thoughts of the despicable mech out of his mind, taking Ratchet’s words to spark. Prowl was the most important thing to him right now and he wanted to be the one to be there for him to help him through it.

If he was allowed.

“Can we see him now doc?” Jazz enquired softly.

Ratchet nodded. “Not all at once though, he’s still a little shaken by his memory loss, I’ve given him as much detail as I thought he could handle at this point. Everything else will eventually come back to him.”

“Will it though?” Optimus glanced back at Ratchet, whose stern optics softened a touch at the question.

“I honestly don’t know. He seems to remember bits when he’s recharging but its gone when he’s online, it’s like his processor is trying to protect itself.” He shrugged with a weary sigh.

Optimus nodded and let Jazz and Ratchet into the med bay first. Turning to the taller mech he placed a firm hand on his chest. “Not all at once, Lockdown. You can visit later, Prowl needs to be with friends.”

Lockdown growled softly at the cold tone of the normally placid Prime, squaring up to the red and blue mech he prodded him sharply in the windscreen. “What th’ spark’s yer problem?”

“You are…” Optimus averted his gaze briefly before meeting the intense red optics. “You’re my problem, Prowl deserves better and you know it.”

Lockdown let out a short, humourless laugh. “Ya mean you. He deserves a mech like you right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ya didn’t have to mech. But let me tell ya somethin’ right now and ya better listen good kid because I’m only gonna say it the once.” His voice dropped a note as he leaned into Optimus’s audio. “Prowl is his own mech, he belongs t’ no one ya hear me? Ya try t’ coddle him from this and ya’ll lose him fer good, as it is all yer doin’ is ruining the opportunity ya got with another who does actually feel that way about ya.”

Lockdown drew back with a grim smirk on his distinctive white face. “Ya only get t’ break a mech’s spark once, OP, I’d open yer optics before ya lose both o’ the mechs that mean the most t’ ya.”

With that final burst of wisdom, Lockdown snorted with disdain at the dumbfounded Prime and brushed past him without another word and headed for his ship, the only other place his spark felt at ease.

****

“Why are you hiding from me?”

Lockdown spluttered and spat out his high grade onto the floor of his ship. “Fer frag’s sake, Prowl, ya shouldn’t sneak up on a mech like that!” He grumbled, instantly distracting himself with cleaning up the spilled fluid.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Lockdown winced at the hoarse sounding ninja, his normally rich voice laced with static. Quickly he cleared out his comfiest seat and bustled about the bridge to brew him some energon tea. “Sit yer self down, kid, does Ratchet know yer out of the med bay?”

Prowl took the seat gratefully, a mark of his fatigue that he didn’t try to argue against it. Lockdown looked him over worriedly before turning his attention to the energon.

“Um… if I say no will you make me go back?”

Lockdown laughed out loud and handed Prowl the hot cube of ener-tea. “Frag no kid, stay as long as yer like. I wouldn’t force ol’ bucket head’s company on anyone.” His spark fluttered as Prowl gave him a small tired smile, his pert mouth quietly sipping at the hot fluid. “So, uh… what brings ya here?”

Prowl gazed into his cube, his visor flickering faintly. “I haven’t been completely honest with everyone.”

Lockdown froze at the revelation, hoping that Prowl wasn’t going to suddenly spill his spark out in front of him. Learning exactly what had happened to him would probably get their prisoner dismembered. He struggled to find his voice, lowering his cube, managing to force out a quite; “- Oh?”

“Mm, I remember part of what happened.” Prowl glanced up in time to see terrified red optics averting his gaze. His mouth tugged upwards at the corner. “Don’t worry I don’t remember anything about what happened with… with Oilslick.” He inhaled deeply, hesitating until the hunter met his gaze. “I remember you…”

“What?” Lockdown shook his helm in confusion. “Prowl…I…”

“Lockdown, relax.”

The hunter clamped his mouth shut when Prowl smiled at him once more. The smile was barely there but he could he hear the genuine reassurance in the mech’s strained voice.

“I remember the moment of my rescue. I remember Jazz being there and I heard Ratchet’s voice but I remember being lifted up and I remember you and some of the things you said to me via comm. when you were carrying me back to your ship.”

Lockdown stared, mortified at the slender mech. His spark pounded in his chest. He hadn’t told anyone he’d opened a private comm. to the injured mech. All he’d wanted to do was to make sure Prowl had been at ease and hadn’t panicked in his arms, frag it all to the pits he couldn’t remember anything he’d said to the ninja. This must be what it felt like to have your spark exposed on a platter for all the world to see.

Was he ready for Prowl to know his true feelings? What if the ninja had only come to see him to let him down lightly, do the decent thing? Lockdown wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle that rejection so soon after almost losing Prowl for good.

“I wanted to say thank you.” Prowl continued oblivious to the turmoil raging behind Lockdown’s optics. “It was your voice that kept me from letting go that day… I… I’m not certain how I’m going to overcome what happened, seeing that I don’t remember it but I know now that what you did when you attacked Oilslick, you were only trying to help and I’m sorry for what I said to you back at Inamorato.”

Lockdown deflated; this was not like any rejection he’d ever heard. His optics glowed fondly as Prowl tripped over his words; the mech was as awkward with emotional displays as he was. His spark fluttered and without thinking he gently took the cube from Prowl’s hand and never once taking his optics off the mech that held his spark – whether he knew or liked it, or not – he gently clasped the slender digits with his own hand a thumb brushing over the back of his hand. “Ya don’t have anythin’ t’ apologise for, Prowl. I’m just glad yer alright and I hope that yer know that I’m not just playin’ ya when I tell ya that I care about ya.”

Lockdown’s voice was gruff with emotion and he tore his gaze away from the piercing blue visor and focused on their entwined fingers.

Nothing was said for a short while and Lockdown started to fret he’d over stepped his boundaries and said too much, again. That was until Prowl broke the silence for him.
“I know.” Came the soft reply.

Lockdown’s gaze shot up to meet the soft azure glow of the ninja’s visor. His spark filled with something, he didn’t know what, but it felt damn good and he gave the hand in his grasp a gentle squeeze as a fond smile spread slowly across his stark features.

****

silver_rayan — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 23:05:49 GMT

Pairing: Skywarp x ?
Rated: T
Warnings: Dark fluff, mentions of gore
Summary: Skywarp is taken captive by pirates. His lover is not amused
Disclaimer: Transformers are still not mine

He wished he was as brave as his siblings.