Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro
Warnings: snark and blatant "not-flirting"
Notes: This was written in a little under an hour as a kiriban fic for SilverPhantom over on deviantArt; she managed to hit this go's magic number 7500. The request was stated as follows:
"Out of my three choices that I'm thinking of, I kinda want to see more of Mirage and Cliffjumper. Maybe flirting with each other though the other mechs don't see it as that?"
Now how the hell could I possibly resist?
The whole argument was sparked off by Hound's innocent question of "Who wants to come watch the meteor shower with me?" Mirage warily and innocently asked where the best location to view the event was, and when the answer turned out to be several miles up the mountain everyone braced for the fireworks to start.
"Then you can count him out," Cliffjumper retorted loudly. "Primus forbid that he get a tiny little scratch on his frame."
"In which case I suppose you aren't going either," Mirage snipped in reply. "If you roll off the road into a ditch we'll never find you."
"And they're off," Prowl mumbled into his energon cube, ignoring Jazz's quiet snicker at his comment.
"Was that some crack about my height?"
"Not at all. I wouldn't want to sell you short."
On the other side of the room, Sunstreaker growled and slipped a handful of credits to a gleefully smirking Sideswipe.
"At least I don't need to hide behind an electro-disruptor to get a shot off at the Decepticons," the red minibot snarled. "So tell me, how long does it take to figure out which end of the rifle to point at them?"
Sideswipe scowled and handed a few of the credits back to his twin.
Mirage coolly replied, "When was the last time you actually hit your target? Or do you mean to hit everything but the broadside of Devastator?"
"Gee, I dunno. Maybe I should get more target practice. How about I start with your face?" Cliffjumper returned almost sweetly.
"Can you reach or will you need a step ladder?"
"Enough."
Every optic in the room turned to the door, where Optimus Prime had entered just a few moments before. He was in turn staring at Mirage and Cliffjumper, who had fallen silent but were still exchanging heated looks. After a moment the Autobot leader heaved a sigh and shook his head, an air of minor amusement around him.
"Take it elsewhere," he told the towers mech and minibot, both of whom scurried out the door without another word to anyone. Optimus shook his head a second time and moved to join his officers while the rest of the mechs in the room slowly returned to their conversations (and more than a few exchanging bets on which of the absent pair would wind up in the repair bay first).
Ratchet huffed as the leader took his seat. "So how long do you think it'll be before the rest of this gang of idiots figures out that Mirage and Cliffjumper have a really twisted definition of flirting?"
"When the pit freezes over and Unicron gives out rust sticks to all the good little mechs and femmes," Prowl replied, once again ignoring Jazz as the saboteur nearly choked on his energon laughing. He turned his gaze to Optimus and asked, "Shall I take them both off the duty roster for the next rotation?"
"That would be for the best," the Prime said slowly. "It should give them time to repair whatever damage they manage to do to each other and Mirage's room."
End
Translation Notes (because you need a fraggin' instruction manual for these two)
The first bit of the argument is private code between the pair of them:
Primus forbid that he get a tiny little scratch on his frame = Did you use some new wax? You look really hot today.
If you roll off the road into a ditch we'll never find you = I'd much rather stay here with you and jump your circuits.
The rest is... well, the rest of the argument is pretty much foreplay; the second Prime dismissed them they bolted for Raj's room. I'll leave the rest to your imaginations for now.