BEFORE YOU READ, I HIGHLY SUGGEST YOU READ THIS FIRST...
This is the first part of a huge challenge 'fic that me and my friend made up. It's sort of a contest between us two to see who can finish the fastest.
The rules for the challenge fic are this: at the beginning of this, we picked a random word that started with each letter of the alphabet. After that, we wrote down the first 26 pairings from the random pairing generator. We had to use each one of those pairings in a different drabble that centered around one of the random words we picked.
To say that this was challenging was an understatement. But, it's been super fun and it's really helped me broaden my thinking process a little.
Since I've got most of these done, there will be very frequent updates. I'm thinking a drabble a day until I run out of letters? Sounds good to me.
First one is of the least crackiest ones. At least they've talked to each other. XD
Do review, please!
Title: Hyetal
Rating: PG
'Verse: G1
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Pairing: Ironhide/Bluestreak
Warnings: None, really.
Hyetal- of or relating to rainy regions.
You could ask anyone who had ever been on a patrol with Bluestreak what the sharpshooter was like, and they would all attest to the same thing: spending long periods of time with Bluestreak was annoying beyond belief.
Sure, the 'bot was friendly enough, and he was a valuable sharpshooter, but, Primus Almighty, that 'bot could talk.
It was just Ironhide's luck to be stuck on a three-day patrol with the talkative mech. In the Amazon rainforest, too, where there was more rain than people. Naturally, the old 'bot was as happy with his current situation as, say, a cat forced to take a bath.
Between the incessant chatter and rust-inducing rain, Ironhide was at the limits of his not-so-endless patience.
"… so rainy on this planet. In Praxus we never had this much rain. Does Cybertronian rain even count as rain? Since, you know, its artificial rain and all. Hmm… I remember this one time that the crazy rainmakers got loose and pelted Praxus with acid rain. It rained for weeks and weeks until the troublemakers were caught, and they-"
"BY PRAHMUS, AH CAIN'T TAKE IT NO MORE." Ironhide furiously turned around, wildly flailing his arms. "FER ONCE IN YER EXISTENCE, WOULD YA PLEASE JUST SHUT UP! It's bad enough that there's all this pit-spawned rain, but yer chit-chattering is gratin' on mah processors! If ya weren't so Primus-damned cute, Ah woulda slagged ya vorns ago!"
Bluestreak's doorwings drooped sadly at Ironhide's outburst, staring dejectedly at his pedes. Instantly a pang of guilt punched Ironhide right in the abdominal plates. He shouldn't have said that, the poor youngling was only trying to be friendly. He opened his mouth to apologize, but was met by an apology from the other mech.
"Oh, sorry." The Datsun sighed, kicking at a downed log near his pede. A realization hit him, and he blinked up at the larger mech. "Wait. You think I'm cute?" He peered curiously at the older mech.
Ironhide froze. He'd said that, hadn't he? He flushed, glaring accusingly at the log Bluestreak had just kicked. "Well, Ah…"
Bluestreak couldn't help himself, blurting, "That blushing thing you're doing right now is pretty cute, too."
The veteran shot back up, squawking incredulously, "I ain't blushin'!"
At that, Bluestreak could only chuckle and shake his head, walking past the red mech to continue their patrol.
As Bluestreak walked past, Ironhide could have sworn that a doorwing brushed suggestively against his back. He whipped around to throw a questioning glance at Bluestreak. The Datsun tossed a coy, "Well, aren't you coming?" over his shoulder, his hips swaying invitingly as he strolled along.
Ironhide subconsciously licked his lips. "Hey, wait up fer meh, younglin'!"
