Man, I'm having trouble finding lots of fic between these two. D: Sad days. Either way, here's a little multi-chaptered ficcaroo I've produced. I believe it'll be either two or three chapters, though I want to say just two. Who knows. I certainly don't.

Title: One Early Morning
Rating: M
- Chapter rating: PG
Warnings: Mild profanity and, well, mech sex. (Surprisingly, it's fluffy--INOWAT!?)
- Chapter warnings: Very mild profanity. And a drunk Hot Rod.
Summary: Ultra Magnus and Hot Rod just wanted to have a little buddy-to-buddy time, not expecting to be thrust into battle and other... intimate situations. Ultra Magnus/Hot Rod.
Disclaimer: HA HA I OWN NOTHING.

Author's Notes: This fic takes place a few years before Daniel is born. Hot Rod has just recently been stationed in Autobot City alongside Kup, Arcee and Springer. They work directly under Magnus, who is of course commander of the city. I like to believe the three are like, his personal chosen three soldiers. But eh. So this can be considered an AU, though canon never really divulged into much detail anywho. Well, of course it's an AU: Magnus and Hot Rod are gay for each other. 9u6

Time measurements: In my lingo: vorn = year [or also a thousand years; it's versatile here!], orn = day, cycle = hour and klik = minute. A mega-mile is just a mile with a fancy technological word added unto it to sound more Transformer...-y. :P

Reviews and concrit = awesome. Flames = not so awesome, but you're welcome to speak your thoughts. Of course all I ask is you do so by sending your flames to CrowTChickAtaolDOTcom. Thank you very much and please excuse any grammatical and/or spelling errors. That and if anything may be OOC, well, oops. (Though any fic with slash that's not canon is OOC, OHOHOHO.)

One Early Morning

By B

Chapter 1

The control room was cold, empty, with the only emotions expressed by computers and machines. It smelt sterile, too, as if it was void of life; even the lights were dimmed.

Of course this totally made Hot Rod, Arcee and Springer feel extremely uncomfortable.

Ultra Magnus had just returned from a council meeting on Cybertorn, leaving his office lonely without his presence. He never expected to come back to Earth to this. Nonetheless, he was Prime's sub-commander and these were his soldiers, so he personally had to deal with them.

The giant blue and white Autobot stood before the three smaller 'bots, all lined up and standing tense. His hands behind his back, Ultra Magnus finally spoke after studying the weary trio for a few minutes.

"First, allow me to get things straight before we divulge any further."

The three just nodded compliantly.

"As I was told by Officer Kup, you three were instructed to keep watch as Ratchet and First Aid repaired recent Decepticon damage on Metroplex. Correct?"

The three nodded again.

"On the way to the location, you got sidetracked. One of you supposedly picked up faint Decepticon activity a few mega-miles away, even though energy signals of the previous battle nearly two cycles ago were still lingering. Correct?"

More nodding.

"One of you convinced the other two to check out the signal, even though you had been given specific orders to attend to the two medics, as well as fully knowing other experienced officers had been assigned to handle any Decepticons while you three, still under training, were not permitted to go alone. Correct?"

This time, their nodding was a little more embarrassed.

"But after some convincing, disobeying your orders from Kup, which I passed down to him to give directly to you, you went off to trace the signal, even though, once more, soldiers in training must be accompanied by superiors into battlefield. Correct?"

Their heads bowed as they nodded, more shame sinking in.

Magnus began to pace up along the line of his nervous men. "Tracing a faint signal for nearly half a cycle, leaving Ratchet and First Aid completely without guard as they worked, you stumbled upon a small group of Decepticons, namely Dirge and his wingmates, on their way to a rendezvous with other Decepticons nearby, who just happened to be flying through Autobot air zones. Correct?"

They nodded.

Magnus turned and picked a holographic datapad from off his desk. He scanned it for a second before continuing: "The report here states that you managed to get information regarding their mission from Thrust, saying the three had been en route to pick up energon supplies from Swindle." He held up the datapad to them. "You all agree to what you wrote here?"

"Yes, sir," the trio replied in unison, Hot Rod lagging by a second.

Magnus noticed this and turned to the orange and yellow soldier. "You seem more tense than your companions here. Is there something you wish to tell me?" he asked, in a tone that was both firm but nice enough not to make the Autobot youngster feel anymore worse than he did right now.

Hot Rod stared at his feet for a second before raising his head, meeting Magnus square in the optics. "I'm the one who persuaded Arcee and Springer to track the signal with me," he informed. Arcee and Springer were both surprised at his confession; they had no plans of telling Magnus Hot Rod had been the impromptu leader of their forbidden detour. Hot Rod shuffled a little, but kept his optics connected with the taller mech. "They didn't want to go, but... Well, it's my fault. I took lead, and so, if you're gonna punish us, you should punish me alone. They were just worried because I guess I made the signal out to be something bigger."

"If punishments are to be given out," Arcee interrupted with a firm clearing of her vocals, "we all get punished." Springer nodded in firm agreement. Hot Rod couldn't help but pass them a small, grateful smile.

Ultra Magnus studied Hot Rod for a moment, quiet and without expression. It made the younger soldier fidget slightly. "I am proud of you for stepping forward and admitting your role in this mishap," he said, pleasing Hot Rod a little. He looked to Arcee and Springer. "And you two for willing to join punishment as well as admitting your faults in the scheme as well."

The large mech then sat the datapad down. "However," he said, and they rose their heads again, "even if you were defeated, you did not suffer any fatal damages, to that which both Officer Kup and I am relieved to see." The least damage they got was Springer a sore shoulder, Arcee a few shots in the leg and Hot Rod's spoiler was singed black in patches. "The information you provided upon interrogation gave us a key location for one of Swindle's trading posts. Kup, Prowl, Jazz and I were there before any transactions could be made."

"Though we did not manage to catch any of the Decepticons," he continued, "we were able to claim half of the energon Swindle was up for selling. We discovered that just half of it would have given the Decepticons enough energon to last them for nearly twenty orns."

Hot Rod, Arcee and Springer widened their optics with surprise.

Magnus strolled up along the line again. "Tracing the origin of the energon," he explained, "we also discovered its source was from a small Autobot group situated outside Kaon. Upon investigation, we found the small base had been destroyed before they could contact us of the ambush just an orn before. There were five soldiers assigned to guarding the base; three had been deactivated, but the remaining two were seriously injured. Had we not sent help to retrieve them at the time we did, give or take another couple cycles and they would have been beyond repairing. Luckily, a few kliks before I called you into my office, I got a transmission from the medics that both of them were undergoing repairs and will recover given three or four orns."

The three sighed a little in relief.

"So," Magnus said and once again, they straightened, "even though you disobeyed your orders, went off on an unauthorized mission, took on Decepticons on your own and nearly risked your sparks, you also stopped an energon exchange between the Decepticons that no doubt will seriously hinder their group as well as supplied information to rescue two Autobots from near death." He paused for a second, hands behind his back again. The three figuratively held their breaths.

"I discussed your punishment with Kup," Magnus informed, "and we have decided to not sentence you to Earth community service nor punish you beyond this lecture." With this, his troops began smiling and it made him as well. "Your deeds, while still inexcusable and warranting of punishment for future incidents, were heroic. For that, we applaud you."

The three friends couldn't help but break out into a proud cheer. Springer and Hot Rod each gave each other a high five while Arcee just pressed a hand to her spark, relieved. "Nonetheless," Magnus interrupted, clearing his throat. The soldiers all went still and serious again. "Next time this happens, we will take serious action and you will be punished twice fold. When you are ordered to follow duties, you will comply with them and pass any information you may have gathered to a superior, who will handle it in your place. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the trio said in unison, saluting.

"At ease," Magnus replied and his troops went back to cheering and relaxing. Magnus checked his chronometer. "According to today's schedule, you three are off duty for the rest of the orn. I strongly recommend you go apologize and thank Kup for the trouble and his decision not to punish you. I also advise avoiding Prowl, however, who disagreed with our actions and is quite upset still. Besides that..." He paused for a second. "You should congratulate yourselves, I suppose."

Springer beamed. "Hey, sounds like a good idea!" he exclaimed, looking to his buddies. "Let's go get ourselves some energon!" He then sheepishly smiled at Magnus. "If that's all right with you, sir..."

"Not a problem. You're all of legal age and off duty," Magnus assured.

Springer pumped a fist. "All right!" he cackled before pointing at Hot Rod. "Energon's on him!"

Hot Rod balked. "H-Hey! Wait a minute--!" he protested.

"You're the one who led us into the mission," Springer interrupted with a taunting sneer.

"Oh, cold," Hot Rod scowled, slightly irked.

Arcee giggled. "Besides," she said, placing a hand on Hot Rod's shoulder, "you're the one with the most chips saved up."

"Why do I feel like I'm being used?" Hot Rod moaned, dropping back his head. His friends just laughed at his expense, but he knew they meant no harm.

"Are we excused now, sir?" Springer asked, looking up to Magnus.

Magnus nodded. "You're excused," he agreed. He then shifted away, gesturing at some datapads. "I must return to work myself."

Springer and Arcee nodded before heading to the door. Hot Rod, however, lingered, watching Ultra Magnus shuffle through his datapads. "Come on, Roddy," Arcee called to him before she and Springer left, the door sliding shut.

Hot Rod just nodded thoughtlessly. It didn't seem Magnus knew he was there, having immediately gone into work mode. He tended to tune out the rest of the world when he was busy, something Hot Rod envied. It was amazing, both his patience and dedication to his job. Hot Rod found it admirable. He just continued to watch his superior, the blue and white mech quietly taking a seat at his giant computer, typing up a storm instantly.

Still, the younger soldier stayed. He studied Magnus as he practically slaved over his keyboard, a thousand clicks a moment, focused entirely on his typing. Every few seconds, he'd grab a datapad and copy its contents into the computer, into Metroplex's mainframe. According to Hot Rod's chronometer, it had been nearly ten kliks and still Magnus was busying himself, unaware of the other's presence still in the room. Hot Rod knew the sub-commander was just as aware of his surroundings and wouldn't be caught off guard from Decepticon ambush, but his systems picked up no harm and so he was free to focus all his attention on his duties without worry.

It was amazing, watching him work. Hot Rod had found himself stare countless times at Magnus in the past, just watching him give orders, discuss matters with others, sift through datapads, just... using all his energy to make sure everyone and everything else was in tip top shape. He was a perfect soldier, ideal leader material and the way Prime looked at him, talked to him, Hot Rod wouldn't be surprised if Prime ever needed to relieve himself as leader he would immediately assign Magnus to the task.

But according to Hot Rod's observations, while Magnus was perfectly capable to do dozens of things, he always seemed so damn modest. Sometimes when he was being flattered, offered positions, he usually refused or disagreed, usually because he felt that he was not quite qualified for all these gifts. But he also admitted he loved his current position, loved his job and the people he worked with. When Hot Rod overheard this during a gathering between other Autobot facilities on Earth, when Magnus said he "loved working with his companions," it made Hot Rod nearly choke on the energon he had snuck from the table.

Loved, huh? Hot Rod didn't know what made him so elated when he heard Magnus say that. Hot Rod was one of his soldiers, usually the one he assigned the task of leader to his compatriots. He meant a lot to him, so of course Hot Rod had to have been lumped up with the "people he loved." Yet there came some disappointment when he also realized Magnus was also referring to others, not just himself. This was silly, of course, Hot Rod told himself after he heard it. There was no need to be... to be... Jealous? Nah, not jealous, no way.

No way.

One time, Arcee had actually called out Hot Rod's fascination for Ultra Magnus. "You're his biggest fan," she said, sitting beside him as they kept a watch out for Decepticon invaders, "it's so obvious you like the big guy."

Hot Rod denied anything personal feelings underlying his appreciation. "He's my superior and a great soldier," he scowled with a puff of his cheeks, "of course I'm gonna admire him a bit. He's a great role model."

Arcee rolled her optics. "Sure, suuure," she snickered and the subject was dropped.

Now, however, should Arcee have seen him staring so long and thoughtfully at Magnus, he knew there was no way he could hide the full extent of his appreciation. Watching a little more, Hot Rod had found himself mesmerized with Magnus's posture, his built. Not that this was new. Constant times Hot Rod had felt envious and awed by Magnus's powerful design and how it almost demanded respect. He was a lot like Prime in this aspect as well. So much so that many people upon meeting the two for the first time believed them to be brothers, even twins, just in different armor designs. Magnus always felt a little overwhelmed by being compared to Prime, especially when it came to looks.

Hot Rod saw it, too, but he also saw the uniqueness in his structure as well. The blues of his armor were stunning, sharp and piercing, the white pallor pearl. He looked so tough, so impenetrable, it was always shocking to see him sustain any damages or wounds.

Hot Rod found himself dwindling closer to the hunched over mech, wondering just how many times a day Magnus must wax himself to keep up such wonderful armor. Then again, it had to be natural, since the guy probably didn't have any time to do much of anything but work. If that were true, Hot Rod was even more amazed. He took hours to always make sure he looked his best and sometimes others would taunt him and call him "Sunstreaker Junior" with how anal retentive he was about looking his best.

A little closer he drew, not fully realizing just how much distance he had covered. Soon Hot Rod was standing right behind Magnus, still typing away a storm. That armor, it just looked so... beautiful. He near mindlessly rose a hand, wondering just what that metal would feel like. Silky, smooth? Hard, cold? It was too much a desire for him to pass up.

Hot Rod felt a little shiver as he dared to move his hand in closer, towards Magnus's left shoulder. And just as his digits were about to brush against it--

"Sorry, Hot Rod, for ignoring you there for so long," Magnus said and Hot Rod not only snatched back his hand but moved about five feet back. Apparently his boss had been aware of his presence, just too caught up in his work to pay him any mind. Magnus turned in his chair, surprised to see the flustered look on Hot Rod's face. An expression of mild surprise and confusion crossed his faceplates. "Are you all right? Is there something you want to tell me?" he asked, slightly concerned.

The concern in his voice made Hot Rod swallow. But then he composed himself, grinning widely. "Sorry about sneakin' up on you like that," he apologized with a titter. "I was just wondering if you'd be willing to take a break and come have a drink with us?"

"Oh, I'm afraid not," Magnus apologized sincerely. He gestured to the datapads beside him. "I'm up to my audio receivers in reports. I probably won't be finished until late. You should go on without me and join your friends."

Hot Rod frowned a little, disappointed. Well, he should have expected this answer. But then that little grin reappeared. "Okay, well," he said, placing a fist in one open hand, "how about this? I'll go have a couple drinks with Arcee and Springer, and then when you're finished, I'll wait and we can have a couple ourselves, okay?"

Magnus tilted his head. "But, as I said, these reports will take cycles," he repeated. "Waiting for me might be pointless, long."

Hot Rod snorted. "When I've got my processors set," he said, winking an optic, "I never give up and my patience is surprisingly long, all things considered."

"Ah, well, all right then," Magnus agreed. "If I can, I will have a drink with you later," he said happily, softly.

Hot Rod pumped a fist. "All right!" he exclaimed. "It's a date--er!" He threw up his hands. "Er, uh, it's a deal then!" He made a coughing noise into his fist, cheeks glowing. Damn humans and their slang and vocabulary seeping into his processors.

Magnus was pretty oblivious to the meaning of "date," and just smiled and nodded. "It is. Now," he said, taking a datapad, "I must get back to work. Lots to do."

Hot Rod immediately clicked his heels together and saluted. "Yes, sir!" he shouted stoutly before rushing out of the room, just in time to get a private comm link from Springer demanding his whereabouts.

"Finished."

Magnus pushed himself away from his computer. All the piles of datapads were gone. Programs updated, reports filed, letters replied, appointments made, tomorrow's schedules and activities planned out perfectly. He had been so used to working himself late, he hardly knew what exhaustion was anymore. Still, he stood, stretching out the kinks in his shoulders and digits.

Just as he was shutting things down, he remembered: Hot Rod. Checking his chronometer quickly, he realized it was, according to Earth's time, close to 1 AM. It had been nearly six hours since the two last spoke. Surely the mech was recharging by now. Magnus felt a little bad about not being able to keep his promise, but he also knew he said "if he could" and that Hot Rod surely wouldn't hold this against him. They both knew he was very busy, after all.

Magnus made a mental note to repay Hot Rod later. Tomorrow he could squeeze in a drink with him around noon, when he was on his short break. If he recalled, Hot Rod had a break between his shifts at 12:34, about five minutes after Magnus's. That'd give them about fifteen kliks to just enjoy each other's company.

Truth be told, Magnus really looked forward to it. He had also really looked forward to having that drink tonight as well. Hot Rod tended to be brash, sometimes temperamental and a handful. Not a lot of people older than him could agree or get along with him. It wasn't as if he questioned or rebelled against authority, persay. And yet Hot Rod was one of the most brightest, funniest, kindest mechs around, friend to dozens.

Hot Rod was still very young and bound to need room to stretch his wings, so to speak. It was quite sad that Hot Rod had been born in an age of war, robbing him a lot of the years he needed to really grow up and enjoy his youth. No, he had been thrust into the role of a soldier for as long as his memory chips could recall.

It was unfair, but Hot Rod, despite everything, did love his job, loved being a warrior, loved protecting his people and friends. He had determination, skill and enthusiasm and yet he still retained a personality outside the war, still managed to find time to laugh and pull pranks. While Magnus could live without some of the pranks, he admired the young soldier for both taking his job seriously and yet not allowing it to tear him down. Sometimes Magnus wondered if there was a time where working and planning and fighting were distant to his cares, a time where he might have been able to take long relaxing trips and play jokes on his friends. It seemed, however, all these years had shaped and molded him into just a soldier.

Hot Rod, however, appeared to look beyond that. He respected him, Magnus knew, but he also liked to consider him a friend. Instead of just leaving when he was dismissed, Hot Rod casually asked his superior to come out for a drink, to join the fun, as if they were the best of buddies. It was flattering and it made Magnus feel not only welcomed but that there was hope in his people. If Hot Rod could fight with a smile on his face, he hoped so would others.

There'd been times where Magnus had wanted to see what made Hot Rod tick. In his alt mode, he was sleek, fast and powerful, calling for attention and Magnus could not ignore him. His bright colors reflected a bright and joyous personality. Magnus didn't mind his own colors, but sometimes they felt so typical, blended with the background. But Hot Rod stuck out like a sore thumb and Magnus, like a moth drawn to light, had always had this nagging desire in the back of his constantly running cerebral processor, something so illogical and silly, but it was there and it was telling him to just... touch Hot Rod. Touch his shoulder, his spoiler and see if it was hot like the sun, see if it was warm like sunlight.

Sometimes, though he had never really noticed it, there was some sort of... emotion he felt when he saw Hot Rod's friends casually pat his back, touch his shoulder, poke or nab at his spoiler. If he had studied this emotion, he would have known it was jealousy. But no, it couldn't be jealousy.

No way.

Magnus decided just to stop thinking too hard about such useless things. Hot Rod was a valuable soldier and friend of his and that was all he needed to consider and know. Magnus turned the light off before stepping outside, turning and punching a locking code on the control pad by the door. Just as he was about to leave--

"Whoa-oh, woke me up there!"

Magnus turned, surprised, to look up and see Hot Rod lounging out on a small roof of the building adjacent of his office. Hot Rod sat up quickly, systems whirring as his optics glowed.

"What are you doing out here, Hot Rod?" Magnus asked, still surprised.

Hot Rod grunted as he jumped off the roof, landing perfectly on his feet. "I told you I'd wait for you," he answered, hands up. He walked up to Magnus, saying, "And I did. I honestly thought it'd be morning when you'd finally come out! Well, y'know, sun-out-and-all morning, that is."

Magnus was still consumed with shock. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Uh," Hot Rod mumbled, thinking, "aboooout... ah, five cycles."

"Why?" Magnus asked, keeping his jaw from unlocking permenantly. Hot Rod had been sitting there, waiting for him the entire time? "Why did you not go back to your quarters? You didn't need to wait for me. You didn't even know when I'd be done."

Hot Rod laughed softly. "I told you, sir," he said with a wag of his finger, "when my mind's made up, I see it through, no matter what or how long it takes." He grinned widely. "Besides, I only drank a little so I could make room to drink more with you. And it so happens I'm still really craving me some of that fine grade energon." He paused, his smile faltering with embarrassment. "Well, unless you don't want to, then..."

"No, no," Magnus quickly retorted, raising a hand. "No, it's not that. I would like a drink. I was just... surprised that you'd wait for me for so long," he murmured.

"Don't think about it, it didn't feel that long anyway," Hot Rod reassured. He walked up beside Magnus, smiling up at him again. "And Primus knows you need a drink."

Magnus just soundlessly followed Hot Rod off to the bar. The surprise managed to finally wear thin. "I haven't had a nice drink in... well, I can't remember the last time," he informed, chuckling.

"Man! You must be dehydrated of some good stuff!"

"Haha, you think so?"

Hot Rod sniffed snobbishly. "I know so!"

"I suppose you do," Magnus retorted and grinned.

Metroplex was mostly a battle fortress, but he had a few places of escape his companions could visit when in need of some off time. One of them included a small bar, just one. It was situated at the far end of Metroplex, away from the training arenas, gyms and a stone's throw away from personal quarters and offices.

It was simple enough, nothing too extravagant, comfortable and homey with a sophisticated touch of smooth black and white. The room was divided between a bar and a restaurant, where a few tables and chairs had been seated. A series of drones worked and tended to the bar, also serving and handling various costumers coming in for just something to snack on. Though they were drones, they were still considered Autobots and were even given time off as well as money, though time off consisted of them just recharging for more work and all money went to bettering and keeping the bar fixed up and well supplied. But they weren't complaining either way.

When Hot Rod and Magnus sat at the bar, a drone instantly recognized them and knew exactly what they wanted by past visits. No orders need be made as seconds later, two cubes of specialized energon of the 'bot's favorites were placed in front of them. Magnus was surprised the drone remembered what he had drank the first and last time he was here, a time he still could not recall himself. Their programing was mostly dedicated to pleasing their costumers, so it was no surprise they memorized past experiences in their memory banks for future reference.

It started off a little awkward between the two, neither quite sure who should start the conversation and what exactly to bring up. But a minute later, Hot Rod was back into full swing and talkative, bringing up whatever came to his processor. Magnus found himself catching up with his train of thoughts quite quickly and also found himself pleasantly enjoying their idle and pointless chats about whatever popped up.

They talked about work, about past battles, about things they had done, things they wanted to do, mess ups and slip ups and victories as well as failures, but they never ventured into anything too deep. They didn't even notice they had gone through three cubes all ready.

However, each Autobot had a strange reaction when companions were brought up. When Hot Rod brought up Springer and Arcee and all his other friends, Magnus listened and responded when need be, but that weird sense of jealousy was ticking in the back of his head again. And when Magnus brought up a mission with Prime, an interesting discussion with Kup, Hot Rod found himself anxious for the stories to end and subjects be changed, as if he didn't want to hear about all the fun times he had with others.

This led them then to talk about the fun times they had with each other. Magnus brought up a time where Hot Rod had accidentally fallen into a vat of tar on a distant planet and how he had to pull him out, how it took cycles and how in the end, they both returned to Metroplex covered in black, sticky tar. Hot Rod told Magnus about the time when, during a battle, Magnus got stuck in his alt form, tires blown and Hot Rod was forced to tow him back to base. Neither Autobot felt offended or embarrassed by these stories, however and they just laughed, amused by their mistakes instead of ashamed.

They had lost track of time, surprising Magnus and even the amount of energon they had consumed. It was about six now before Hot Rod began showing some... interesting symptoms from drinking way too much.

"But you knooow," Hot Rod sniggered and looked lopsidedly at his half-empty cube, "it's-it's always fun, really. No matter how scary it... it gets, you always gotta-gotta look for the fun in things." He then took another long chug, sitting back afterwards with something akin to a long exhale. "Ahhh, yeah, I always got-gotta find the fun."

Magnus nodded slightly. "I can't blame you, especially at your age," he said, before tapping a finger on the bar. It caught the attention of a nearby drone, who hovered over. Magnus asked for the tab as Hot Rod just lounged back in his seat, chuckling about nothing in general. As the drone calculated the bill, Magnus looked over to Hot Rod. "All right, Hot Rod. It's all ready too late, but we're drawing closer to dawn in a few cycles. I'm afraid we've stayed out a bit too long and had a bit too much to drink." He could hold his energon well, but still felt a little buzz.

"Boo," Hot Rod grunted, dropping a hand on his face. "I don't start duties until ff-five more cycles. I can stay another half a cycle." Before Magnus could say anything, Hot Rod then threw an arm around his shoulders, causing the former to widen his optics in alarm. "Y-You can spare another half cycle too, c-can't you?" Hot Rod slurred, poking a finger against Magnus's chest.

Magnus felt uncomfortable. He could clearly smell the energon staining the inside of Hot Rod's mouth, emitting a thick stench that made Magnus light headed. Not to mention, his arm slung around him, his body so close... "You're over-energized, you know," Magnus informed, gently pushing him back. The drone's view screen for optics flashed up the price for their drinks. "If you drink anymore, you'll be too sick to work tomorrow. I, and especially Kup, would not want that," the blue and white mech continued, producing chips and handing them to the drone.

The drone went to take away their cubes before Hot Rod grabbed his. "W-Wait, there's still some left," he muttered, optics dim. The drone just stared at him, computing the information he was just fed. If the costumer wanted to finish it, then he would need to comply. As he was going to leave with just Magnus's empty cube, the older robot slowly pushed the cube away from his soldier.

"I think you've had enough now," Magnus said calmly and Hot Rod just stared blankly at him. Since Magnus was obviously the superior, the drone obeyed him and took away Hot Rod's cube.

Hot Rod groaned when it was gone and dropped his head on the bar. "Maaaan..." he sighed, upset.

Magnus found his hand slowly reaching for Hot Rod's shoulder. He paused. This was his chance... He recoiled his hand a second later. "Once we get outside, a little walk will help work out the energon," he explained, before carefully helping the slouching Hot Rod from the bar. Hot Rod moaned as he felt the excess energon drop into his legs, causing them to grow heavy. "Can you walk on your own?" Magnus asked.

"I-I think so," Hot Rod replied with a sniff.

He did fairly well at first. Magnus took lead and helped him outside. The cold night air hit Hot Rod like prickling ice, his chassis clinging to the warmth from all the energon. They began their walk off to Hot Rod's quarters, which wasn't too far a distance away, when Hot Rod suddenly stopped, still slouching. Magnus turned to face him. "Are you all right?" he inquired, moving forward wearily.

"I, uh," Hot Rod hummed, rubbing his helm. He tittered. "I can't seem to move... I think my equilibrium chip is finally shot," he said. He tried to move; he succeeded in taking a step forward, but the second left him stumbling forward.

Magnus quickly intervened, running forward to catch Hot Rod in his arms. The orange soldier fell right against his chest and both Autobots felt their cheekplates warm up. Magnus was shocked; though he figured as much, it was still a surprise that Hot Rod was as warm as he felt. Or it could just be all that energon. For a minute, the two did not move, Magnus's arms still wrapped around Hot Rod, Hot Rod still lounging weakly against his chest, arms pulled up beside him.

It almost looked like the cover of some trashy romance novel Springer and Hot Rod found in a box of Carly's junk she was throwing away. A masculine, blank-faced, shirtless man clutching a wanton girl with flowing hair in a purple, loose dress against his glimmering bare chest, flames burning in the background. It was so embarrassing an image that it quickly made Hot Rod push back. "T-Thanks for catching me," he smirked, yet he found his hands still holding onto Magnus's forearms.

"Looks like you're going to need a little help after all," Magnus chuckled.

Hot Rod felt really embarrassed. "A-A little," he said quietly. He scratched at the side of his nose. "I-I don't mean to ask for help, but..."

"It's not a problem," Magnus quickly assured. Besides, he missed that warmth... The two silently made an agreement and Magnus crouched a little, allowing Hot Rod to slide his arm back over his shoulders again, Magnus keeping hold of it, his other arm pressed against Hot Rod's back. "You think you're ready?" the blue and white mech asked.

"Better than laying here and ho-hoping someone'll drag me to my berth," Hot Rod sniggered.

The two then continued on their way, Hot Rod relying on Magnus's support, the other keeping up a slow pace for him to follow. They didn't speak a word for a few minutes, concentrating on just walking without one losing balance. It was only until a night guard gave them a weird stare as he walked by did Hot Rod snicker again and say, "I bet we're a sight for sore optics. Sub-commander Ultra Magnus havin' to carry his over-energized suul-soldier to his bunker. I dunno if I'm more embarrassed than y-you."

"Don't be," Magnus assured, continuing to walk the stumbling Autobot along. "It's my duty to take care of my soldiers. Besides, it wasn't as if you did this without my permission. Perhaps without my approval, but not without permission."

Hot Rod just laughed again. "I'm jus' glad Springer's not here, or Arcee," he said softly, "they'd never lemme live this down."

"They're probably so deep in recharge, they won't know until the morning," Magnus said with a soft chuckle, "when you're working out all that energon."

Hot Rod groaned. "Oh, don't remind m-me..." Certainly, in a few hours, he'd be rolling in pain.

Again, it was quiet and once more, it was Hot Rod who broke the silence. Not by speaking, but by suddenly pushing more of his weight against Magnus's side then dropping the side of his head against his arm. Magnus swallowed a little. He was so warm, and even soft. "Are you all right still, Hot Rod?" Magnus questioned, stopping.

Hot Rod's optics switched on again and he snorted. "Y-Yeah, sorry. I just f-felt a little woozy and needed to rest my head. S-Sorry about that..." he explained, going to raise his head.

"No, no, it's fine," Magnus said quickly, stopping Hot Rod from pulling completely back. "You can rest your head on my arm if you need to. It's okay."

Hot Rod blinked before smiling shyly. "T-Thanks," he slurred before, ever so slowly, laying his head back against Magnus's arm, not quite tall enough to reach his shoulder. Magnus remained quiet as they continued onward, just a few more corridors until they arrived at the young soldier's quarters. "I'll try not to--not to fall into recharge," Hot Rod laughed softly, though his optics were beginning to dim again.

Magnus found himself, despite everything, quite... comfortable. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever gotten into a situation like this. Something so... normal, almost. He remembered hearing from Spike that on days off, the human would go out to have a drink with a buddy and just sit back and breathe.

Breathing... Transformers didn't need to breathe, but yet, the other definition it suggested, to "relax," seemed so... nice. And Magnus wanted to know what that was like--now here, even if circumstances weren't perfect, he was beginning to know what living a carefree life was like. Too bad moments like these were rare and far and few in between. He just hoped Hot Rod was functional enough for work tomorrow.

And everything was peaceful, between them, between the base, between every living and non-living entity around. And it would have stayed that way if---

Ultra Magnus twitched when something on Hot Rod suddenly starting ringing in a shrill whine. It immediately woke Hot Rod from his slumber, causing him to leap out of Magnus's arms, yanking a small piece of equipment from an arm compartment. "Holy slag, they didn't find it!" he exclaimed, optics blazing full blue again.

"What is it, Hot Rod?"

Hot Rod showed him the device; it looked like a small remote with a little sonar screen on it. The green screen was scanning a single white dot soaring slowly across the field. "When we were fighting those Decepticons earlier," Hot Rod explained, seemingly returning back to fully functional with alarm, "I managed to planet this tracking device on Dirge. It's really small, something new that Perceptor was fooling around with. I guess it really works--they didn't detect or find it." He then paused and rubbed the back of his helm sheepishly. "I, uh, I just borrowed it. I planned on giving it back, seriously."

Magnus didn't want to know what Hot Rod was planning on using the tracking device for originally, but was deeply intrigued. He took the remote and looked over the screen. "The coordinates on this map--they're about fifteen mega-miles from Metroplex."

"What would Dirge be out doing at this time of... uh, morning?" Hot Rod wondered. "He's probably not alone. Probably going by orders; others on their way to back him up."

"At this time, Metroplex is still in recharge," Ultra Magnus hummed, stroking his chin. "And the reason the alarm hasn't sounded is because Dirge is two mega-miles off from Autobot air zone territory. Whatever it is he plans on doing, it's not to attack the base nor attract any attention."

Hot Rod added, "Not to mention, the location he's flying in isn't too far from where we did the raid."

"What would he be doing at that location again?" Magnus inquired. "Swindle wouldn't make the mistake of returning back to that area. There's nothing there--we cleaned it out and everything."

"Well, humans say criminals always return to the scene of the crime anyway," Hot Rod added. "It could be there is something there that we missed."

Magnus nodded. "We should gather Bluestreak and Bumblebee for investigation, since their shift is starting in a--"

Hot Rod interrupted him, raising a hand. "I think we can do this job on our own," he insisted. "I mean, Dirge wouldn't last two kliks with you, and I doubt he's bringing more than just his two coneheaded goons with him."

"Still, we can't be too sure--"

"Come on, Magnus!" Hot Rod exclaimed, beaming. "It's been so long since we last worked together, just the two of us. Not since that boring recon mission in Nevada. We're enough to take them on!"

Magnus shook his head. "It's too risky to--"

"Then you can go get the others," Hot Rod said, his voice a little haughty. He leapt forward, transforming into his alt mode. His engines revved with a loud roar. "I'll go on ahead!" he stated, before with a loud snarl, he took a tight turn and shot across the base, heading for the exit.

Magnus widened his optics. "Hot Rod, wait!" he shouted, raising a hand. He scowled slightly. Really, now, this kid... Ultra Magnus got on his comm link, calling back-up.

"Bumblebee reporting," the yellow bug said tiredly, "need anything, Magnus?"

"Yes. I need you and Bluestreak to meet up with me at these coordinates," Magnus said, adding the coordinates Dirge had been flying in. "We believe Dirge and possibly other Decepticons are currently in the area for unknown reasons. Hot Rod and I are on our way to investigate. Report to the site as soon as possible and get back to me when you're within half a mega-mile."

"Yes, sir!" Bumblebee retorted cheerfully.

"Magnus out," the blue and white mech finished before cutting the transmission. "Hot Rod, you're going to push your luck too far one day..." he said, transforming into truck mode and following the trails of exhaust and dust his soldier left behind.

T/B/C