It was the just the slightest of movements. Barely even perceptible as the large and opulent shuttle did its best at maneuvering through a rather insignificant asteroid field, but it was enough to disturb the older Mech resting somewhat peacefully next to the DeathStalker. Fury opened his crimson optics as his "mate" began to stir and carefully leaned over him.

"Shhh," he murmured, gently kissing the Mech's cheek. "It's all right, my pet. Get some rest."

That was all it took and the object of Fury's affections remained in a recharge cycle. He, however, was quite awake now and ready to chew out the one piloting. Even the slightest of disturbances was annoying, especially since his new "partner" remained unaccustomed to the ship's flight capabilities. The older Mech had not enough flight time in the shuttle to know what was going on at all times, the destinations and the current surroundings. Fury knew no other ship. It was his and his alone so he knew those things. A benefit to being a DeathStalker.

Carefully, Fury got up and walked to the bridge. The only two occupants at the consoles didn't even look up as he approached. They continued with what they were doing as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

The bridge of the ship was unlike any other. There were only two seats – navigations and pilot – and it made it very narrow and small. It really couldn't hold three Transformers but Fury knew this so he shifted.

"What's going on?"

"Another shuttlecraft," came the reply. "We were shifting as an asteroid appeared in front of us. Sorry to have disturbed your 'pet', Fury, but it couldn't be helped."

At that, Fury sighed. Of course, it couldn't be helped. His pet was not a DeathStalker nor could he be turned into one. Their laws were very clear and strict. Fury shifted once more and returned to his private quarters to watch his "mate" sleep and reflect on he came into his . . . possession in the first place.

Begin Flashback

"P-p-please," the Mech whimpered. "Please . . . I'm not ready for this! I'll do anything! Please, just . . . give me a chance!"

The six DeathStalkers laughed at the Mech's appeal to them. It was nothing unusual for someone to try and escape the fate of becoming a DeathStalker. All Transformers had an inherent knowledge of the Death and LifeStalkers but it was on a subconscious level. The only time the knowledge became clear was when a DeathStalker (or a LifeStalker) came to them. However, none had ever been able to come up with a suitable replacement, as it were. Fury, though, was game and more than willing to ensnare another soul . . . if it had potential.

"Anything?" Fury purred.

"Absolutely," he breathed. "Just name it!"

"A replacement," Fury stated as he folded his arms, his optics glinting with amusement.

"A replacement?" The Mech looked confused.

"Yes," Fury confirmed. "A replacement. You must find someone who is far more miserable than what you are . . . by the end of the evening."

The Mech seemed to consider it for a few moments, and Fury was quite certain that he and his crew would be able to perform their ritual within the next two breems. No one had ever found a replacement. Ever. Then the Mech spoke up.

"I know of someone . . ."

"What?" Fury glanced at him sharply. How could this Mech know of someone who was in greater misery than he was? It sounded rather suspicious to him.

"I know of someone," the Mech answered. "He and his girlfriend argue constantly. In fact, they just broke up and he looked rather upset when I saw him!"

"A break-up isn't severe enough to cause the amount of misery you've been feeling," one of the other DeathStalkers stated.

"He's the cause of all of my misery!"

Fury hesitated. The couple being vaguely described sounded suspiciously like Ironhide and Chromia. They were constantly fighting and constantly hurting each other with each break-up. Every DeathStalker in the universe wanted this couple but the trouble had always been how the two had always managed to keep most of their misery at bay. They were practically untouchable! Fury narrowed his optics at the Mech in front of him.

"Are you referring to Ironhide and Chromia, Darknova?"

If he was surprised at hearing Fury say his name, Darknova never showed it. He was, however, surprised at hearing those two names being mentioned.

"Y-yes . . ."

The six DeathStalkers glanced at each other then promptly shifted so that Darknova couldn't see them. Fury looked at them and saw five dubious expressions staring back at him.

"What shall we do, Fury?"

"There's no way he can offer either one!"

"He's only offering one, though . . ."

"She'd be the better choice . . ."

Fury listened as his fellow DeathStalkers – Viper, Berserker, Nightviper, NightStalker, and MoonStalker – voiced their concerns and opinions. He really couldn't proceed in either accepting Darknova's proposal or rejecting it unless all of them agreed. DeathStalker law dictated as much.

"They aren't miserable enough for us to take . . ."

"They are if one of them is being offered," Fury said finally. "I can feel their sadness. But we must hurry."

"You'd rather have one of them rather than this one, Fury? He is using us to get to close to the Femme . . ."

"I realize this . . . He's also one of the newer creations. His life force won't be as sweet as what Ironhide or Chromia's would be . . . my question now is, are we in agreement? Shall we accept his offer . . . or reject it?"

Five sets of crimson optics gleamed at him and he knew they were in agreement. He also knew which one they would accept. Viper and NightStalker headed for their ship as he and the rest of the DeathStalkers shifted back.

"We have a deal, Darknova. You'll have your shot at Chromia, and we'll take Ironhide to be one of us. However, the instant she becomes miserable and unable to recover from her sadness, we will take her to be one of us. Understood?"

"Don't worry," Darknova assured them. "She won't be unhappy."

Fury snorted. Somehow, he doubted those words very much.

"Just lead us to Ironhide."

Darknova nodded and got off his feet. The DeathStalkers shifted to follow him. There was a sadness in the air as they went and it was thick. Fury inhaled the sweet scent as they walked, and felt his anticipation elevating. He could almost taste Ironhide's life force but Fury kept himself in check. They had to get him first before they could perform the ritual. Once it was underway then . . . then he could savour the taste that he knew would be sweet.

'And savour it we shall,' he thought as Darknova stopped in front of a door and activated the door chime. In a matter of moments, the door had slid open and Fury made his move . . .

–

"What are you doing?" Darknova hissed. Fury and MoonStalker were leading a clone of Ironhide into the red Mech's apartment. He didn't look very happy. "I thought you said you were going to take him!"

"Don't blow a gasket," MoonStalker snapped. "It's a necessity."

"Leaving him here!"

"Leaving a clone," Fury informed him impatiently. "In case you weren't aware, Ironhide has a higher rank than you and is required in another location. I think it would be best if he didn't disappear or die at such a crucial point in your war now . . . do you?"

"I guess not . . ."

"Don't worry. You'll still have a shot at the lady. Now relax. We'll be out of here in a few breems. You better get out of here before someone gets suspicious."

Darknova scowled but did as Fury suggested. As soon as he was gone, MoonStalker led the clone into the bedchamber. Once she emerged from the room, they shifted and took off for their ship. Cybertron was their next stop and Fury did not want to waste a single moment more.

End Flashback

As he walked into his own chamber, Fury allowed his gaze to rest on Ironhide. The Autobot was still resting peacefully but it had also been a while since he'd been able to energize properly. Fury silently cursed DarkNova and his cunning in avoiding his fate. The ritual had not worked but, because it had been attempted and DarkNova was no longer miserable, his group of DeathStalkers were saddled with a living Transformer. Not that Fury minded because Ironhide was still a fine specimen but their rules had dictated that Ironhide be returned to the Autobots upon the failing of the ritual . . . which had been made impossible. The clone of Ironhide had been destroyed in a major battle between the Autobots and Decepticons. He was considered one of many deaths so returning him wasn't possible. Not when he was believed to be dead. And Fury had found himself wanting Ironhide in every way possible. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually . . . physically. It had taken him a long time to get Ironhide to warm up to affections, but the red Mech still kept him at arm's length.

'But good things come to those who wait,' he told himself as he watched Ironhide rest. 'Some day . . . some day soon . . . you will be my mate through and through. I know I can't replace the one you've had to leave behind . . . nor do I want to. I just want you, my pet. Completely and wholly.'

With practiced ease, Fury sat down next to Ironhide and ran a finger from the Mech's shoulder to his waist. Ironhide stirred a little but did not open his optics. There was nothing exciting happening on the shuttle, and there hadn't been since they had brought Ironhide onboard. Everyone knew it.

"What are you doing?"

Fury smiled as he continued to trace designs along Ironhide's upper torso. Though his optics were closed, Ironhide was quite awake.

"Admiring you, my pet," he purred. "Is that a crime?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not your pet?" Ironhide sighed, finally opening his optics.

"And how many times do I still shower my affections upon you?" Fury smiled at him, but he knew Ironhide didn't have the strength to argue. He could tell by the dull gleam in the other Mech's optics.

"Just keep recharging, my pet," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss Ironhide's forehead and cheek. "We can argue the point after we find you some energon."

"I've had enough rest," came the tired retort as Ironhide started to get up. "That's all I ever do anymore is rest. I'm tired of resting."

"So what do you plan to do?" Fury asked, pushing Ironhide back down. "Roam the ship? Search for a weak point and attempt an escape? Or seek out a fight? I've told you before what our laws allow and prohibit. And you know what will happen to you should you attempt another escape. I don't think you want a repeat of the last time."

Ironhide sighed again and closed his optics. Fury sighed as well, resting his head on Ironhide's shoulder. His one hand still traced designs and caressed Ironhide's upper body, occasionally reaching the red Mech's cheek. They lay together like that for a while, Fury kissing Ironhide's cheek every now and then.

"Stop," Ironhide murmured drowsily. "I know what you're trying to do."

"I'm not trying to do anything, my pet," Fury whispered. "You're the one who's exhausted. Not me."

"Fury . . ."

He kissed Ironhide's forehead one more time.

"Get some rest, my pet. Viper will inform us of any possible energon stores."

Ironhide murmured something once more but, thanks to his exhaustion, was incoherent, a sign that he was already in a recharge cycle. Fury took the opportunity to steal another kiss then curl up next to the older Mech. It was going to be awhile before they'd find any energon anywhere, being out in deep space and away from any forms of civilization, and Ironhide needed all the rest he could get until then.

Begin Flashback

Fury nearly hummed to himself as he and MoonStalker cleansed Ironhide's prone form with a purifying agent. Tonight was the night he would add a new DeathStalker to his elite rank. He just couldn't be it was going to be one of the oldest living Transformers around!

There were many kinds of DeathStalkers and all of them fed off the same things: grief, despair, and misery. They were not the cause of such emotions, their laws forbidding such practices, and most never knew of their existence. The DeathStalkers were simply there, going on about their own business. But there were elite groups of DeathStalkers, like Fury's small group. Whenever someone had become overwhelmed by grief, misery, or despair, and showed no signs of ever recovering, one of the elite groups was dispatched to retrieve the miserable one's soul. While the DeathStalkers were energized by such emotions, too much input into their systems and into the flow itself caused everyone a great deal of headaches and malfunctions. Those dispatched were elite for a reason. They were the only ones capable of even approaching the troubled soul and they were rewarded with a rare treat. The elite group got to drink the life force of the saddened individual and said individual was added to their ranks. And Fury's group was the elite of the elite. Only those truly and utterly miserable were capable of becoming a member of his team, though they never knew it.

"We're almost ready, Fury," MoonStalker whispered. He could see the excitement in her optics. "Viper and the rest are in place. All we have to do is get him in place and we'll be ready."

"Than that is what we shall do," Fury grinned. "Time for something sweet."

With a single thought from Fury, Ironhide's body levitated in the air and the rest of him purified. Fury and MoonStalker flanked him on either side, and they proceeded into the ritual chamber. Once inside, Ironhide's body floated to the alter. The six DeathStalkers took their positions, Fury picking up his ceremonial blade. Each one began to chant, theirs a language more of sounds and vocalizations than words when it came to rituals. It started out slowly, rhythmically but picked up in speed as their chanting reaching a frenzied pitch. Even Fury was lost in his part of the ritual. As they neared the very climax of the ritual, Fury stabbed forward with the blade, intent on delivering the fatal blow that would end Ironhide's current life and bring him to their realm, turning him into a DeathStalker . . . only to have the blade stop at its delivery point. The tip scraped along the side but, try as he might, Fury could not deliver the blow.

"What the . . ."

"Why are you just standing there?"

"Quiet!" Fury commanded with a hiss, a frown passing over his features. The blade was supposed to have punctured Ironhide but something was holding it back. Fury couldn't figure it out. Then it hit him. Ironhide was not as miserable as DarkNova had indicated. In fact, if he were reading Ironhide's emotions correctly, Ironhide and Chromia had just had the shortest break up in their long history together. They'd been duped. If he'd been paying more attention to Ironhide's emotional state rather than his own desires, the ritual would never have gotten as far as it did.

"Fury?"

For a moment, he didn't answer. All he could do was stare in impotent rage at Ironhide's prone form. Quickly, he regained a bit of composure and turned to face his teammates.

"Load him into the ship. We're leaving."

"What! Load him into the ship?"

"But the ritual . . ."

"Has failed," Fury snapped. "Just do as I say! We're leaving!"

They complied with his orders, gathering their materials as they went. In his mind, that was the worst ritual Fury had ever performed . . .

End Flashback

Fury smiled a little as he thought of the ritual gone wrong. There were times he still felt like he and his group had been saddled with Ironhide but usually only when Ironhide's temper got the better of him and the Mech was looking for a fight.

'But that's only because he misses her,' Fury told himself. 'Not that I blame him. She is a fine specimen of a Femme.'

His thoughts were interrupted as the shuttlecraft rocked once more and he growled in frustration. How hard was it to follow orders?

Ironhide, however, bolted forward. His optics were wide and alert, and he began to reach for something.

At first, Fury didn't understand his partner's behaviour but, when the ship lurched forward again and Ironhide leapt off the bed, he did. The ship was under attack. Ironhide was looking for a weapon to defend himself. Old habits die hard, after all.

Quickly and carefully, Fury got up and placed himself in front of Ironhide. Whoever was attacking them would be in for a surprise. The DeathStalkers could shift and make the ship appear to be deserted. They could even make it so no one would ever figure out how to use their technology nor would they ever know about the Autobot living on board. Said Autobot, though, was in no shape to be fighting.

"Easy, my pet," he whispered soothingly. Fury hoped he'd be able to get close to the Mech without Ironhide reacting in a defensive manner. "There's nothing to be alarmed over."

"We're under attack . . ."

"I know . . . We'll handle it. There's no need for you to defend yourself here. No one can attack you or us should they get inside this ship."

Ironhide blinked, like he hadn't heard what Fury had just said. Then he swayed. Fury leapt forward just in time to catch Ironhide and keep him from falling. He cursed this turn of events as he helped the older Mech to lay back down. Once Ironhide was safe and secure, Fury left the room.

As he left, he shifted. That was when he saw NightStalker and Berserker approaching him.

"What are your orders, Fury?"

"Who's attacking us?"

"We're not sure," NightStalker replied. "The damage is minimal but we don't dare shift. Both factions of Transformers saw each other and began fighting."

"Chances are, we got hit by both . . . and we're quite sure they saw our ship."

"Any chance of our ship being boarded?"

"Not at this moment, Fury. Both sides are more concerned with each other."

"Do they have energon?"

'Yet to be determined. They may, they may not. He getting weaker?"

"Yes," Fury nodded. "Still quite ready to defend himself as well."

"Drained himself further?"

Fury nodded again.

"MoonStalker and Viper are scouting each side now. Go ahead and stay with him, Fury. We know you want to."

"You'll keep me updated?"

They nodded and Fury said a silent "thank you" to both. He slipped back into the room and shifted back. Then stopped.

Ironhide lay on his side, curled up. His optics were open but glowing dimly. He wore a pained expression as he fought to stay online. Fury silently cursed himself for not stocking up on more energon when they'd had the chance. If they had, Ironhide wouldn't have been in this situation.

"MoonStalker, Viper . . . if you've found anything, we need it. Now."

"Calm him down until we get back, Fury. MoonStalker's on to something."

"Understood."

Fury turned his attention back to Ironhide just as the ship began to rock with more and more blasts. With each blast, Ironhide's expression became more and more pained. Fury held his hand and tried to soothe him but to no avail. The warrior's defenses kept going up with each hit and taxing his systems. Finally, he picked Ironhide up and moved to sit in the room's only chair.

It calmed Ironhide some but not enough. The Mech had become too wound up to relax. Still, Fury had his work cut out for him. Ironhide had become so exhausted that he finally passed out. Every now and then, Ironhide moaned or coughed pitiably but otherwise never moved. They were going to cut it close and Fury knew it.

Suddenly, the firing stopped and Fury listened. The one faction was obviously retreating – he could tell by their growing feelings of despair. MoonStalker and Viper were also back onboard and the winning faction was blasting a hole into his ship.

"Back to bed, my pet," he whispered, nuzzling Ironhide before setting the red Mech back onto the bed. Fury shifted and left the room. The other DeathStalkers joined him.

"There doesn't appear to be anyone on board, Rodimus . . ."

"We'll keep searching, Perceptor. Someone has to be on board. It's in too good of shape to have been abandoned."

"Me Grimlock not like this. It smell of something. Me can't identify."

"It smells?" someone joked. "I think you're starting to sound a little like Red Alert, Grimlock."

"Not funny, Springer."

"What do we do now, Fury?"

"If we're going to get any energon, it's going to be from them. The other faction was looking on the rather pitiful side when it came to energy."

"We've got to act soon."

"But how to proceed," Fury mused. "They can tell by how our ship looks like that we must have a lot of credits or whatever they call their currency. We'll need a good story as to why we need the energon . . ."

"We can make the rest of the ship look sparse . . . more so than usual . . ."

"Then make ourselves look half-starved or whatever."

Fury thought it over for a moment.

"Let's do it. Follow my lead after we shift."

"Got it, Fury."

"Did you guys hear something?"

"What?"

"Did you hear something?"

"Like what, Roddie?"

"Me not hear anything. Me smell death but me not hear anything."

"I thought I heard voices . . ."

"Maybe it's ghosts!"

"Very funny, Springer."

"Let's keep searching. Maybe the ship got ransacked by someone."

"Think there might be any survivors?"

"I hope so."

Fury kept track of the Autobots' progress as they searched his ship. Fortunately for him, the room Ironhide stayed in was sealed off and could only be seen by a DeathStalker. Given their current attitudes and their . . . concern, Fury knew just how he was going to play it.

'Don't worry, my pet. I'll prove myself to you someday. Right now, my main concern is your survival.'

"We are ready, Fury," Berserker whispered.

"Good. Now huddle close and look very frightened, ragged, and starved. And don't forget to follow my lead."

The DeathStalkers did as they were told. They shifted and huddled in a corner. It didn't long for the Autobots to find them. He and his team played it out rather beautifully, too, in his opinion.

"Rodimus! We found some survivors!"

"W-who are you?"

"We're Autobots. We came to help. Is anyone hurt?"

It didn't take long for Fury and his DeathStalkers to get their ship repaired and the energon that Ironhide needed. The Autobots had been more than eager to please, especially since they had been somewhat instrumental in damaging their ship. Once the repairs were done and they were given enough energon to last awhile, they were gone.

"We're out of their scanner range . . ."

"We're not detecting any tracking devices . . ."

"Not that it would matter once we shift . . ."

"Then let's shift. Let me know when we get to another energon storage unit. I don't want to take any more chances with Ironhide."

With that said, Fury turned on his heel and headed for his private chambers, carrying some energon cubes with him. Ironhide was his top priority.

Once he was in private chambers, Fury immediately helped Ironhide into a sitting position. It took some maneuvering but Fury finally got enough energon into Ironhide so the other Mech was able to drink on his own. Ironhide gulped the rest down and drank half of another cube before he started to look healthier.

"Finished?"

Ironhide nodded and set the cube down. Fury snatched the Mech's hand into his own and kissed it. When Ironhide didn't pull away, Fury kissed his hand again then leaned in to kiss his partner. He could tell that Ironhide was still slowly warming up to the idea of a male lover, that it was just a matter of time until they actually mated. Until then, he'd continue to be patient, to wait . . . and wish.

El Fin