Transformers (c) Hasbro

Characters: Mirage, Hound

Pairing: Hound/Mirage

The fierce yet incongruous roar of an F-1 Ligier race car washed over the serene rural landscape leaving a torrent of wind and unsettled wildlife in its wake. A wave of vibrant blue speckled birds erupted from a low branched oak, carrying with them a chorus of indignant squawks and flustered wing-beats.

But Mirage, ever focussed Mirage, was neither aware of nor concerned of his disrupting effect on the earthen wildlife. He merely forced more strain into his engine, processor caught in a vigorous loop of rerunning the co-ordinates over and over; as if it would make him reach the destination faster.

He checked his internal chronometer. Frag it, already two breems late! It was the stupid soft ground he was driving on; the slagging rustic, washed-out excuse for a road was ill-assorted for his custom racing tires...At this rate he'd be lucky if he got there by mid-night.

As if in retaliation to the unsaid remark, Mirage felt one of his dust covered wheels suddenly plunge in and out of a wide spread porthole...a porthole with various sharp debris lining it...sharp enough to dig deep into the thick, black rubber of his tires. But enough to puncture? Well, if the cutting hiss, stinging sensation and steadily decreasing height on his right side was anything to go by, Mirage would say yes.

The Ligier violently skidded and swerved, dust clouds billowing in sweeps with each motion. Mirage feverishly braked and cursed simultaneously and, for reasons only Primus could guess, chose now to take notice of the surrounding wildlife and make an adequate effort to not tear down any possible dwellings inhabited by one or more of Hound's oh so many wildlife friends.

He felt his momentum decline as he veered away from the hedgerow, just brushing the leaves, and clumsily rolled across the road. Under the completely reasonable impression he was to come to a safe, gentle, dry stop, the noblemech made no move to examine his reversing direction.

How could Mirage presume that the dirt road, predominantly arid and dust-covered, would sport a pool of mud....and a rather wide one at that.

With a surprised yelp and obnoxious squelch, he found his whole pristine blue alt-form up to its backstrut in sloppy, brown gunk. He gave a frustrated rev and made an admirable attempt at driving out of the slop. His engine chugged, coughed, spluttered and cut-out, in the end only succeeding in splattering more of the sludge onto his frame, some gathering and congesting in his engine.

Mirage remained perfectly still and silent. He didn't even transform.

A punctured tire. A filthy frame. A clogged engine. Ah, the wonders of nature...

Plop

Gazing with mild disinterest, the spy noted the new colour set atop the mounds of brown decorating his windshield; white. Apparently a bird had taken it upon itself to repaint him.

The same flock of blue jays that had retreated just under a breem ago, having flown to a safer, quieter location, took to the air once again in a flurry of scattered blue feathers and bristled shrieks.

Such an unholy, unnatural, wrathful scream of fury set even a nearby settlement of ants scurrying back to their mound, left a pack of wolves on the hunt whining back to their den, and the deer they had cornered scaling a cliff-face with surprising dexterity for an animal with hooves.

Hound's faceplates twisted almost painfully, fighting a losing battle against the wide grin threatening to spill, gales of barely suppressed laughter escaping his vocaliser as no more than a stifled crackle.

The only thing keeping him in a relatively sober state was the thunderous glare drilling holes through his helm and into the earth behind him; that and the fact that Mirage was standing uncomfortably close to the hen-loft. The scout didn't believe that his friend would willingly cause harm to innocent organics...he just felt it best to not incite his already prickly (easily turned violent) fury.

"So...Umm...do I want to know?" the way his voice broke off with a half-swallowed chortle did not escape the spy's notice.

Mirage somehow managed to bristle further, "Just tell me why you called me out here! And it had better be ten times more serious than you made out in the com" Hound chuckled nervously, jovial amusement simmering down to a wary meekness.

"Sure you don't want to clean off first?" A furious engine rev coupled with lividly blistering optics was his response. Apparently not.

"Well ugh...I think it's a very important task" he stated, hand unconsciously rising to rub the back of his helm. For some reason, he doubted Mirage would share his view on the matter...But only one way to find out.

"See the human over there" he inclined his head in the direction of said organic. Mirage nodded; glare dissipating into a dour frown. "Well, ugh, his field-" he gave an unnecessary wave of his hand to indicate the pasture across from them, "-is badly water-logged and he needs to move his cattle into the next one as soon as possible and...ugh...he wants our help...So...yeah..." he trailed off, grinning weakly.

Mirage stared at Hound. And stared. And stared. For a brief klik the tracker actually worried his processor might have glitched. Golden optics offlined and his intakes hissed out hot-air.

"Let me get this straight Hound" the edge to his voice was so sharp Hound visibly cringed back a little, "You commed me out here, telling me that there was a, and I quote, very serious mission and you really needed my help. As. Soon. As. Possible." Each word was bit out with a splash of acidic fury. Hound gave a reluctant nod, fighting back another flinch as optics snapped back online.

Voice rising in volume and pitch, the spy ploughed on, "So I, under the impression that you were in dire need of aid, came straight from the car-wash, having waited over a joor for my turn. Drove through this Primus forsaken dirt covered landscape that punctured a tire, clogged my engine, and gave me an oh so spiffy new paint job, all to get here. As. Soon. As. Possible!" by now his arms were visibly quivering with barely restrained wrath.

Hound simply stared as Mirage near spewed flames at him and gave a dumb nod in response.

"And now, NOW you're telling me that the reason you called me down here; the highly serious mission you desperately needed help with, was...was..." his vocaliser clipped, disbelief layering over anger in his throat, forcing him to slowly vent his intakes before roaring "HERDING CATTLE?!"

Hound momentarily pondered whether the spy wanted him to answer. He doubted it, considering as soon as he opened his mouth, Mirage's vocaliser was crackling with embers once again; now adding a serious of swiping arm motions and manic expressions. His optics furiously brightened and fleetingly dimmed between sentences. Hound could practically feel the Ligier's engine growling from where he stood and while the purpose was undeniably to intimidate, it was having a rather...different effect on the scout.

The kliks passed and while Mirage ranted and raved, amply startling all nearby humans and livestock, Hound gaped. He scanned his memory banks and was unsurprised that the last time he'd seen the spy lose his composure so magnificently came up dry. Hound knew that if he had ever seen Mirage so brilliantly incensed, not an ounce of the self-possessed noble he'd once been, chances were considerably high that the tracker would have jumped him a long time ago.

"-overgrown Primus damned pieces of steak!" Ouch. Now that was a little harsh. Had Hound not been so enraptured by his friends striking fury, he might have chastised him on speaking so candidly....might have.

A small, attentive part of Hound's processor registered that Mirage was reaching the finale of his diatribe, running low on profligate vocabulary mixed with harsh explicatives. He tore himself from his self-imposed musings on how wonderfully dazzling his friend's optics were to direct more attention on forming an adequate response; something that wouldn't incense Mirage further, but would possess the dual function of a compelling rationale as to why he should still help Hound. That should be easy.

"-and you expect me to help you?! Seriously?! It would be one thing if it was actually important, but we're talking about a herd of overpopulated future organic food products here Hound! Give me one good reason why I should even consider helping you! Just ONE!"

Hound blinked and gave his friend a moment to resume another outburst if necessary. But Mirage had apparently exhausted all of his dynamic fury throughout his rant and now stood with a slightly slumped posture, intakes heaving and a tired but firmly challenging glower in place. Feigning a look of intense concentration, the tracker let a sly grin slip onto his faceplates.

"I can think of one" he stated, taking a step forward.

Mirage didn't miss a beat in piping out, "Oho, you don't say? Well then, by all means share! I'd love to hear this one!" Hound ignored the hostile tone and aura of his friend, moving so he standing directly in front of the crossed-armed spy.

"It's pretty simple really..." he let his sentence trail off from there as he dipped down and lightly, almost imperceptibly, brushed his lips across Mirage's.

He then leant forward and whispered, "If you help me, I promise to wash all of that mud off you as soon as we get back" He then placed another light kiss to the spy's audio before pulling back and put a good meters distance between them; faceplates sporting a innocent, bright grin.

Mirage's arms remained firmly crossed but his previous contemptuous frown had dropped into a dumbfounded stupor, optics wide and flickering.

"So what do you say buddy?" his voice had wiped clean its sultry purr, a typical air of familiarity and good-natured cheer returning. The noblemech's optics drifted beyond Hound, taking in the still gathered humans. Well, that explained his friend's rather confusing change in exterior; not to mention the irritating chasteness of the kiss. His optics narrowed and he sent an unimpressed glower in response to the irksome grin.

"You're very fortunate you're cute, you know that?" he groused. Hound's expression took on an impish light.

"I know. Now come on!" he chuckled, ushering Mirage towards the field. The spy grudgingly allowed himself to be led, cringing with distain at the smells that assaulted his olfactory sensors.

"Ugh, I will never understand your tolerance for this planets ecology" he muttered, yelping a curse as he felt his pede sink into yet another mud pool which caused his balance to waver. A green arm steadied him, complemented by a deep chuckle.

"I could say the same to you about that high-class Cybertronian music" he quipped, helping him out of the muck. Mirage harrumphed, shaking his slop-covered pede.

"Then why do you listen to it with me?" he clamped a servo over his nasal plating in a futile attempt to block out the smells.

"Because you like it" was the simple response, a single green shoulder rising in a shrug. Mirage paused and gave him a searching look. "Why do you put up with this...?" Hound gestured at the brown splotches covering his frame. The spy remained silent, optics sweeping over the distasteful, unfamiliar landscape.

"Because you love it" he muttered, returning his gaze to Hound. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "I suppose one makes exceptions, for those whom they care about"

Hound gave a lopsided grin, "How uncharacteristically corny of you" he gave a light snigger in response to the spy's piqued frown, "I'm just teasing, Mr. Oversensitive" He gently tugged Mirage closer.

The blue bot huffed, "Has anyone ever told you that you have an uncanny ability to kill a mood?"

Hound smirked. "Yeah, but generally it's followed by a compliment on how well I can revive it" he murmured, leaning down to press another firm kiss to the spy's lips. Mirage gave a muffled 'hmph' but responded nonetheless, coyly attempting to deepen it. Hound, however, gave the other's a light nip before pulling away. Mirage impatiently attempted to follow but was stopped by a green hand on his chin. The grin across his friend's face was positively devious.

"Ah ah ah, Mirage...Remember, there are humans present"

The spy was sorely tempted to punch the trackers lights out, or at least give him a shove for good measure.

Instead Mirage settled for an irate glare and growled out, "You're very fortunate you're cute"

Hound beamed, "And you're hot when you're angry. Now come on; cattle first, fun later"

"I really hate you sometimes"

"I know!"

Author's Note: Yes! I'm essentially a complete slash fantard (despite being also fantard for the femmebots) I'm contrary and I'm fudging proud of it ;D

Anyways, this was done as a story trade-off with Mirage-Shinkiro (btw, in the likely chance that you found the story here too, hello again XD and I hope you liked...again)

Yeah, Hound likes angry Mirage...and who can blame him XD