Megatron's having a bad day, Tarantulas is having a worse day, Rampage is
sulking, and then here comes Overdose...
I own the Beast Wars, and Hasbro owns Overdose and the plot. No, wait, there's something wrong with that...anyway, this is the eighth in the series that takes an in-depth look on the effect of drugs, sea slugs, more drugs, sinister plans, and general craziness on the Beast Wars. No, it's not about me. Overdose! Not me! Overdose!
* * * * *
Buying In
By Lady Dementia
Dementedangel@hotmail.com
* * * * *
Megatron was NOT having a good day.
First, Rampage had limped into the base and snarled something about disassembling Overdose the next time he saw her. For some reason he refused to explain, his commlink was completely shattered, and Megatron had been sufficiently impressed by the crab's bad mood to let him use the CR Tanks without pressing him about what had happened. Just mentioning Overdose had made Dinobot jumpy, though, and the raptor and crab had gotten into a fight the moment Rampage was repaired.
Obedience programming or not, getting between Dinobot and his target wasn't the smartest thing Megatron had ever done. A laser burn on his shoulder was proof of THAT.
The best thing about having a practically-immortal drone was that he could shoot him to slag and then leave him in a pile on the floor. Dinobot would recover on his own, but the rest of the Predacons had made themselves scarce until their tyrant's mood improved somewhat. Actually, Rampage was just plain sulking in his quarters (which Megatron was getting used to-Overdose's arrival seemed to have brought out that latent trait in the psychopathic immortal crab). Quickstrike and Waspinator had taken it upon themselves to patrol somewhere. Even Inferno had learned; when the Queen growled in that tone of voice, it was a good time to vacate the premises!
That left Megatron sitting on his throne, glaring at nothing. He had just tried to contact Tarantulas, but it seemed that the traitorous spider was up to something again because he hadn't responded. Either that, or he had heard through the Predacon grapevine about Megatron's bad mood. It had happened before, and it puzzled the tyrant to no end that the moment he wanted to pound on someone, every single Predacon knew to vanish.
Eventually, he got tired of watching the lava cast shadows on the walls. Dinobot would at least be healed enough to be conscious by now, and he still hadn't forgiven the raptor for shooting him. Beating him offline again would make him feel better!
Unfortunately, Megatron would have to FIND him first. "He couldn't have possibly been able to move yet, noooo," he muttered to himself after searching the area he had left Dinobot's scrapped body in and around. There was mechfluid all over the floor still (he made a mental note to have Waspinator clean it up), but no Transmetal 2 raptor. "Dinobot!" he snarled. "Show yourself, yesss!"
The Predacon base was silent as he waited for an answer, and Megatron shook his head, more confused than angry now. "Self-preservation?" he mused, staring at damp floor. Was it possible that Dinobot had dragged himself away to hide like the rest of his troops? "DINOBOT!" he yelled again, not really expecting an answer anymore.
A distant giggle echoed down through the service duct above his head, though, and the tyrant stiffened. Giggling? In the Predacon base? Who would..?
"Rampage!" he snapped into his commlink. "Did you let Overdose into the base?!"
**ME?!** Megatron blinked in surprise at the enraged reply. Evidently Rampage was still a little bit angry about whatever had happened this morning between him and the insane sea slug. **If I so much as HEAR from her again I'm going to grrrAAAAAAARR--**
He ignored the incoherent threatening and background crashes as the crab lived up to his name. Most of the Predacons were used to it by now. "Well, she's in the base, yessss. I heard her laughing."
**WHAT?!**
This time he winced a little at the volume. "I believe your FRIEND," he smiled nastily as his emphasis of the word set off another round of cursing and crashing on the other end of the commlink, "is in the service ducts. Find her, my dear Rampage, yesss." He turned off his commlink before Rampage could reply, powering up his tail-gun and looking up at the crawl-space above his head. He was too large to fit into it, but there were other methods of evicting unwanted guests from the base's various air ducts and service tunnels.
A missile exploded somewhere in the lower decks, shaking the base around him as Rampage apparently reached the same conclusion.
* * * * *
Somewhere else in the base, the shaking was more violent. Overdose wasn't worried, though. The only reason the explosion had a bigger effect here was because the command platform was poorly supported compared to the rest of the ship. Oh, sure, at any time one of the support beams might give out and plunge the entire platform into the lava, ending her life in a puddle of molten metal and rock, but it was kind of fun when the flooring under her feet swayed like that!
"Wheeeee!" she sang, unwittingly triggering another series of blasts from Megatron and Rampage alike as the air duct above her head made her voice echo throughout the base. "I think Goomba-boy's mad at me for knocking him out," she confided to her unwilling guest. "I mean, what was I thinking? I should have just killed him, but..." She paused and thought about that. "But when I kill him, I want to take the time to do it properly. Then he won't rise from the dead and drain my mechfluid. Or was that vampires? The Vampire Rampage? Nah, it's just not him. How about a zombie? I can see Rampage as a zombie. Night of the Living Rampage!" She stretched out her arms and staggered around the command platform, pretending to be a zombie as she droned in a monotone, "I'm coming to geeeeeeeet yooooooouuuu, Overdooooooose..."
She suddenly shrank to one side, her fins curling around herself defensively as she screamed in a piercing mock-falsetto. "He's coming to get me! Oh, woe is me!"
Her arms stretched out again, and her voice returned to the monotone as she resumed staggering like the victim of a wreck. "Prepare to diiiiiiiiieeee, Overdooooooose...prepaaaaaare to diiiiiieeeee..."
Overdose gasped dramatically and swooned into Megatron's empty throne, one flame-red gauntlet held to her forehead as her eyes rolled with colors. "Oh, help me, help me! Someone save me! Whatever shall I do?"
* * * * *
Rampage's gun sagged as the crab listened in something like morbid fascination to the echoing one-robot play being acted out somewhere in the Predacon base. It was insane, it had no plot, it had covered everything from monsters to pirates to government, and it sounded like Overdose was currently having a sword fight with herself. One half of her personality was trying to force a bottle of pills on her at knife point...
Despite himself, he started to laugh.
* * * * *
Megatron had finally found her! It had taken careful listening (which he was hoping wouldn't leave permanent damage to his mind), but Overdose had screamed something about making 'the fiend' walk the plank into the lava, and he had guessed correctly that it meant she was above the lava. And since he KNEW there was a service tunnel right above the command platform that would explain why her voice was echoing through the base...
Of course, now that he was on the command platform, he wasn't sure he wanted to be. The femme was a blaze of constantly shifting colors and patterns, dazzling him into stopping in his tracks as she tumbled across the floor.
"NEVER!" she screeched, leaping up to stand on Megatron's throne with one foot braced on the back. A knife held in one hand was pointed threateningly at...nothing. That didn't seem to disturb her in the slightest, and neither did the bottle of drugs held in her other hand. "You'll never make me take them! I'll never give up, do you hear me?! I WILL HAVE MY VENGEAN-oh, it's you."
Megatron shook his head and dimmed his optics for a moment to clear his vision of the bursts of colors. When he looked up again, Overdose had flopped down to sit sideways in his throne. She grinned at him for a moment, made the knife disappear, and then chugged the entire bottle of pills. "Look, no hands!"
"Uh..." He decided not to think about what he had seen as the crazed femme gave the now-empty pill bottle a contemplative look before eating it, too. "Get out of my throne!" he roared instead, deciding to be angry about the way she had casually usurped a symbol of his power.
Overdose treated him to a blank stare, her eyes literally a blank white. "Who are you, again?" A moment later a laser blast hit the spot where she'd been sitting, and she was peeking over the top of the blackened throne. "Temper, temper!" she tsked at him cheerfully, her eyes back to their (relatively) normal brilliance.
He growled and shot his tail-gun at her again, but she only ducked and cartwheeled over to disappear behind a bank of computers. "What are you doing here, Overdose?!"
"Shopping?" she ventured, her antenna waving at him from over top of the viewscreens like they knew he wouldn't risk damaging them computers by shooting at them. "I'm in the market for Maximal repellent, if you have any."
Come to think of it, he wouldn't mind having some. Along with some OVERDOSE repellent! "Overdose..." he rumbled warningly.
She smirked at him from behind the computer console, bright colors draining away from her fins to be replaced by dull grays and blacks. "Oh, alright," she sighed in a much calmer voice, "but I'm not coming out until you point that thing somewhere else!"
He glanced down at his tail-gun, which she was pointing at, and scowled. "Very well, yess-" he cut himself off and glowered as a wave of colors washed through her fins briefly in unmistakable amusement at his speaking habit. "But this had better be worth the trouble," he finished curtly, stalking over to sit on his slightly-burnt throne and pointedly not looking towards her.
Nothing happened, and he finally turned to glare at the computers only to whirl in surprise as something touched his arm on the other side. "Wha--?!" One tilted almond optic was watching him from over the armrest, and he snarled under his breath as it was joined by its twin.
The rest of Overdose rose gracefully from a crouch to stand beside him, tall enough to almost look him straight in the optics even though he was sitting in an elevated position. "You told me once that I could join the Predacons if I brought something to earn my way in," she said in a low, almost hypnotic voice, only her eyes showing traces of color now. "Is this true?"
His optics followed her suspiciously as she moved slowly to stand in front of him, the hand on his arm sliding over to rest on the center of his chest as she stopped, turned so she was looking at him sidelong. The gentle pressure from each poison-tipped nail sent a tiny shiver through him, but he was no stranger to the feeling of danger even though the femme in front of him seemed to radiate it intensely enough to burn. "Perhaps, yes," he said coolly, leaning back in his throne and laying his tail-gun on the armrest. He had led Predacons for too long not to recognize when someone had decided to get to the point, and he was confident that despite the sea slug's crazed behavior she was here to bargain, not to kill. "What have you brought?"
Overdose's expressive optics narrowed even as she smiled. "Not a Maximal, if that's what you mean," she crooned in that same, strange voice. "We have reached an agreement, they and I. A life to get into their faction," her head cocked to one side suddenly, eyes studying Megatron's face intently as he started to lift his tail-gun in defense, "and perhaps the same life to get into yours."
The gun froze in mid-motion, then slowly lowered back down to the armrest. Megatron's optics looked back into hers thoughtfully. She had just admitted to being a Maximal, and yet...
His hand rose, and her optics flickered to follow it. Deliberately, he pushed his hand underneath the deadly gauntlet resting on his chest, fingers sliding around hers. She resisted a moment, toxic nails making dents in the metal before she allowed him to lift her hand away. He held their entwined hands up so he could take a close look at the sharp points on the tip of each of her fingers.
"And what, my dear Overdose, are you planning?" he murmured as he examined her hand, noting that even the nails had dimmed to gray-tones. There was a link to the femme's dangerous side and the color change, he knew...but what? "You can't be a Maximal AND a Predacon."
She was still looking at him sidelong. "One of you probably couldn't...but, yes, I can. At night a Predacon; by day a Maximal." One shoulder rose and fell in a shrug, a streak of orange rippling through her fins and vanishing back into black. "More likely I'll just show up and help who I want. At least this way you'll stop fighting over what faction I'll join."
Their optics met over their clasped hands, and Megatron's mind raced. The benefits of Overdose joining the Predacons versus the fits of insanity; the problems of Overdose joining the Maximals versus the trouble she brought with her; danger and craziness versus possible victory...It all depended, he realized, upon what she had brought for buy her way into his faction.
She seemed to know what he was thinking. "Let me sweeten the deal," she purred, freeing her hand effortlessly and walking smoothly to the computer banks. Instead of using them in the conventional way, however, she scaled the side of the tallest and balanced on top. Megatron, following her progress, looked up and frowned. The dark object suspended high above the command platform wasn't supposed to be there! A moment later Overdose managed to cut the line holding whatever it was suspended, and he flinched as it came crashing down in front of him.
'It' turned out to be a rather mangled Tarantulas, hands tied tightly behind his back.
Overdose landed beside the tortured 'bot and grinned slightly at Megatron's shocked expression. She bent down and prodded Tarantulas, then sighed as he remained offline. A thin black remote appeared in one hand, and she pressed one of the green buttons on it.
Megatron flinched again, startled, as Tarantulas snapped online with an anguished shriek of pain, but then Overdose knelt down next to the 'bot and put a finger to her lips. "Shhhhh," she said softly, and Tarantulas fell silent, trembling visibly. Standing back up, she smiled at the tyrant. "Tarantulas made a very big mistake long ago when we were both on Cybertron," she explained. "He's paying for it now." The spider whimpered in a small voice, and she frowned down at him. "None of that, now."
He had recovered enough from the shock to appear relaxed once more. What had happened to Tarantulas looked more creative than the worst torture he had ever seen, but that merely confirmed what Rampage had reported about Overdose. The sight was somewhat sickening, but he had never particularly cared for Tarantulas. "And this," he waved his hand at the tortured 'bot dismissively, "is worth something...why?"
Her smile returned, and her eyes spangled with color bursts, reflecting her enjoyment of the situation even though the rest of her body remained ashen. Megatron smiled back at her. How civil they were, bargaining as if the pitiful wreckage of another Cybertronian didn't lie quivering on the floor between them!
She kicked at him. "This is your one chance, Tarantulas," she crooned viciously. "If you're good, maybe the nice Predacon leader will let you stay here instead of with me..." Chuckling, she grabbed one of his spider legs and used it to toss his helpless form across the floor to slam into the bottom of Megatron's throne. He left streaks of mechfluid behind him.
"Megatron..." The normally arrogant voice was broken and pleading. "Please...don't let her d-do this to me! I-I can't...no more...please...stop her..."
The tyrant's optics narrowed as he leaned forward to look down at the tormented 'bot huddled at his feet. "Why should I?" he asked with malicious casualness. "What's in it for me?"
Tarantulas moaned pathetically, gathering the strength to raise his head to meet Megatron's gaze. "An-anything," he almost whimpered, the unshattered half of his visor flickering erratically. "Anything. I'll...I'll do whatever you w-want, Megatron. J-just...just name your price." Panic flashed across his face as Megatron looked doubtful. "I-I'm still a Predacon! You c-can't let her-"
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, nooo," the tyrant interrupted him coldy, sitting back in his throne.
He cringed at the sudden move, trembling in fear of the femme he was at the nonexistent mercy of. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered desperately, any remnants of pride and dignity long gone. "I'm sorry! Please, Megatron, d-don't leave me with her...please..."
Overdose gave him an inquisitive look as Megatron nodded to her, but her eyes lit up when he glanced down at Tarantulas meaningfully. "Time to go," she said with mock cheerfulness as she walked forward, and the spider wailed like a dying spark as she seized him by his bound arms. His legs didn't work anymore, so she simply dragged him after her. "I'll be back," she shouted over his screams.
Megatron watched them leave, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the way Tarantulas begged him to reconsider until he was out of his range of hearing. After the spider's plotting and treachery, he felt Tarantulas deserved to panic.
He looked at the shadows on the wall that the lava cast, and suddenly his day didn't seem so bad. There was a new twist on the Beast Wars, now, and he wondered how much she was going to aid and/or hinder his plans.
* * * * *
"Think it's safe ta be back 'ere yet?" Quickstrike asked Waspinator as they scrubbed at the floor in front of the CR Tanks. Dried mech-fluid was a pain in the diodes to get out, but it was better than hiding in his quarters or being target-practice for Megatron.
The wasp shrugged. "Wazzpinator not know. Megatron take out problemzz on zzervizze ductzz?" He pointed at the holes in the crawl-space above them.
"Ah suppose, but-"
Both Predacons jumped and yelped in surprise as Tarantulas hit the floor between them, metal screeching in protest as he skidded along the floor. He hit the side of a CR Tank with a loud thud, but the screeching continued. It wasn't metal, though...
"Oh, shut UP!" someone said in an exasperated voice, and then Overdose bounced into sight. Apparently the drugs had hit, because her fins were wild with colors again. "I didn't throw you THAT far!" She paused and looked back over her shoulder. "Well...okay, maybe I did. But I'm sure you've been through worse!" She skipped over and smiled down at him. "At least, you will if you don't shut up."
The screaming cut off with terrified suddenness. The other two Predacons were staring at him in horror, but the tortured spider didn't look away from the femme standing over him. "N-no...please, Overdose..."
Overdose shook her head and looked at Quickstrike and Waspinator. "Is he pathetic or what?" They gulped and backed away, and she looked back down at Tarantulas. "It's been fun," she said to him, "but it's time to part ways." A black remote with green buttons appeared in her hand, and Tarantulas gave a strangled moan. "Wimp," she grumbled as she punched a combination in.
The collar around his neck beeped once...and fell off.
He gaped at it. "What..?"
She giggled merrily at his total shock and picked it up off the floor. "Surprise! That guy...uh...what's his name..." She looked up at the ceiling and appeared to sink deep into thought. "The purple dude..."
"Megatron?" Waspinator risked saying.
"YEAH!" The fuzor and wasp dove for cover behind the CR Tanks at her loud cheer. "Him! Anyway, he's gonna keep ya." She patted Tarantulas on the head patronizingly. "Wasn't that nice of him?"
"Nice..." he repeated dazedly.
"You sure are out of it," she sighed. "Tarantulas?" The spider slowly looked up at her, and she knelt down to his level, putting her mouth to his audio. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I've forgiven you, Eightline," she hissed, and Tarantulas whimpered as the crazed femme pinched an exposed nerve-wire cruelly. "If I don't think you're doing what Megatron tells you, well..." The nerve-wire twisted, and he screamed in pain. "Understand?"
He sagged as the agony eased. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes!"
"Good." Overdose stood back up and smirked. She grabbed a handful of his spider legs and heaved. "Up and over!"
Quickstrike shook his head as Tarantulas splashed into the CR Tank. "Ya'll pretty weird, even fer us," he told the femme as she somehow managed to trip over her own feet.
"You have no idea," Rampage growled from behind him, and both Waspinator and Quickstrike jumped and yelped again in surprise. They scurried out of his way as the crab strode forward, dragging Dinobot behind him. The silver raptor was offline and apparently at the losing end of a battle with a large piece of sheet metal that was driven part of the way through his upper body. "Is there any particular reason I found him glued to one of the autoguns?"
Overdose looked up at him innocently from the floor. "It seemed like fun at the time!"
"I'm going to kill you," he snarled.
"Is that before or after you and Depth Charge start dating?" she asked earnestly. She ignored the bellow of rage that provoked to shake an admonishing finger at him. "Do you threaten to kill all of us Predacons, or am I just special?"
He froze, staring at her. Quickstrike and Waspinator looked at each other. "'Uzz?'" Waspinator ventured.
The crazy femme nodded happily. "I'm a Predacon now! Doesn't it just make you feel all warm and safe inside to know that I'm part of the team?"
"Um," Quickstrike said.
"Um," Waspinator said.
"Um," Rampage said.
"Not really, no," Dinobot said, but then Rampage smacked him in the head out of reflex (seeing something sitting up out of the corner of his vision does that) and he went back to being unconscious.
Overdose giggled.
DONE! Finally! Yeesh, this was supposed to be a SHORT fic...anyway, tell me what you think at dementedangel@hotmail.com
I own the Beast Wars, and Hasbro owns Overdose and the plot. No, wait, there's something wrong with that...anyway, this is the eighth in the series that takes an in-depth look on the effect of drugs, sea slugs, more drugs, sinister plans, and general craziness on the Beast Wars. No, it's not about me. Overdose! Not me! Overdose!
* * * * *
Buying In
By Lady Dementia
Dementedangel@hotmail.com
* * * * *
Megatron was NOT having a good day.
First, Rampage had limped into the base and snarled something about disassembling Overdose the next time he saw her. For some reason he refused to explain, his commlink was completely shattered, and Megatron had been sufficiently impressed by the crab's bad mood to let him use the CR Tanks without pressing him about what had happened. Just mentioning Overdose had made Dinobot jumpy, though, and the raptor and crab had gotten into a fight the moment Rampage was repaired.
Obedience programming or not, getting between Dinobot and his target wasn't the smartest thing Megatron had ever done. A laser burn on his shoulder was proof of THAT.
The best thing about having a practically-immortal drone was that he could shoot him to slag and then leave him in a pile on the floor. Dinobot would recover on his own, but the rest of the Predacons had made themselves scarce until their tyrant's mood improved somewhat. Actually, Rampage was just plain sulking in his quarters (which Megatron was getting used to-Overdose's arrival seemed to have brought out that latent trait in the psychopathic immortal crab). Quickstrike and Waspinator had taken it upon themselves to patrol somewhere. Even Inferno had learned; when the Queen growled in that tone of voice, it was a good time to vacate the premises!
That left Megatron sitting on his throne, glaring at nothing. He had just tried to contact Tarantulas, but it seemed that the traitorous spider was up to something again because he hadn't responded. Either that, or he had heard through the Predacon grapevine about Megatron's bad mood. It had happened before, and it puzzled the tyrant to no end that the moment he wanted to pound on someone, every single Predacon knew to vanish.
Eventually, he got tired of watching the lava cast shadows on the walls. Dinobot would at least be healed enough to be conscious by now, and he still hadn't forgiven the raptor for shooting him. Beating him offline again would make him feel better!
Unfortunately, Megatron would have to FIND him first. "He couldn't have possibly been able to move yet, noooo," he muttered to himself after searching the area he had left Dinobot's scrapped body in and around. There was mechfluid all over the floor still (he made a mental note to have Waspinator clean it up), but no Transmetal 2 raptor. "Dinobot!" he snarled. "Show yourself, yesss!"
The Predacon base was silent as he waited for an answer, and Megatron shook his head, more confused than angry now. "Self-preservation?" he mused, staring at damp floor. Was it possible that Dinobot had dragged himself away to hide like the rest of his troops? "DINOBOT!" he yelled again, not really expecting an answer anymore.
A distant giggle echoed down through the service duct above his head, though, and the tyrant stiffened. Giggling? In the Predacon base? Who would..?
"Rampage!" he snapped into his commlink. "Did you let Overdose into the base?!"
**ME?!** Megatron blinked in surprise at the enraged reply. Evidently Rampage was still a little bit angry about whatever had happened this morning between him and the insane sea slug. **If I so much as HEAR from her again I'm going to grrrAAAAAAARR--**
He ignored the incoherent threatening and background crashes as the crab lived up to his name. Most of the Predacons were used to it by now. "Well, she's in the base, yessss. I heard her laughing."
**WHAT?!**
This time he winced a little at the volume. "I believe your FRIEND," he smiled nastily as his emphasis of the word set off another round of cursing and crashing on the other end of the commlink, "is in the service ducts. Find her, my dear Rampage, yesss." He turned off his commlink before Rampage could reply, powering up his tail-gun and looking up at the crawl-space above his head. He was too large to fit into it, but there were other methods of evicting unwanted guests from the base's various air ducts and service tunnels.
A missile exploded somewhere in the lower decks, shaking the base around him as Rampage apparently reached the same conclusion.
* * * * *
Somewhere else in the base, the shaking was more violent. Overdose wasn't worried, though. The only reason the explosion had a bigger effect here was because the command platform was poorly supported compared to the rest of the ship. Oh, sure, at any time one of the support beams might give out and plunge the entire platform into the lava, ending her life in a puddle of molten metal and rock, but it was kind of fun when the flooring under her feet swayed like that!
"Wheeeee!" she sang, unwittingly triggering another series of blasts from Megatron and Rampage alike as the air duct above her head made her voice echo throughout the base. "I think Goomba-boy's mad at me for knocking him out," she confided to her unwilling guest. "I mean, what was I thinking? I should have just killed him, but..." She paused and thought about that. "But when I kill him, I want to take the time to do it properly. Then he won't rise from the dead and drain my mechfluid. Or was that vampires? The Vampire Rampage? Nah, it's just not him. How about a zombie? I can see Rampage as a zombie. Night of the Living Rampage!" She stretched out her arms and staggered around the command platform, pretending to be a zombie as she droned in a monotone, "I'm coming to geeeeeeeet yooooooouuuu, Overdooooooose..."
She suddenly shrank to one side, her fins curling around herself defensively as she screamed in a piercing mock-falsetto. "He's coming to get me! Oh, woe is me!"
Her arms stretched out again, and her voice returned to the monotone as she resumed staggering like the victim of a wreck. "Prepare to diiiiiiiiieeee, Overdooooooose...prepaaaaaare to diiiiiieeeee..."
Overdose gasped dramatically and swooned into Megatron's empty throne, one flame-red gauntlet held to her forehead as her eyes rolled with colors. "Oh, help me, help me! Someone save me! Whatever shall I do?"
* * * * *
Rampage's gun sagged as the crab listened in something like morbid fascination to the echoing one-robot play being acted out somewhere in the Predacon base. It was insane, it had no plot, it had covered everything from monsters to pirates to government, and it sounded like Overdose was currently having a sword fight with herself. One half of her personality was trying to force a bottle of pills on her at knife point...
Despite himself, he started to laugh.
* * * * *
Megatron had finally found her! It had taken careful listening (which he was hoping wouldn't leave permanent damage to his mind), but Overdose had screamed something about making 'the fiend' walk the plank into the lava, and he had guessed correctly that it meant she was above the lava. And since he KNEW there was a service tunnel right above the command platform that would explain why her voice was echoing through the base...
Of course, now that he was on the command platform, he wasn't sure he wanted to be. The femme was a blaze of constantly shifting colors and patterns, dazzling him into stopping in his tracks as she tumbled across the floor.
"NEVER!" she screeched, leaping up to stand on Megatron's throne with one foot braced on the back. A knife held in one hand was pointed threateningly at...nothing. That didn't seem to disturb her in the slightest, and neither did the bottle of drugs held in her other hand. "You'll never make me take them! I'll never give up, do you hear me?! I WILL HAVE MY VENGEAN-oh, it's you."
Megatron shook his head and dimmed his optics for a moment to clear his vision of the bursts of colors. When he looked up again, Overdose had flopped down to sit sideways in his throne. She grinned at him for a moment, made the knife disappear, and then chugged the entire bottle of pills. "Look, no hands!"
"Uh..." He decided not to think about what he had seen as the crazed femme gave the now-empty pill bottle a contemplative look before eating it, too. "Get out of my throne!" he roared instead, deciding to be angry about the way she had casually usurped a symbol of his power.
Overdose treated him to a blank stare, her eyes literally a blank white. "Who are you, again?" A moment later a laser blast hit the spot where she'd been sitting, and she was peeking over the top of the blackened throne. "Temper, temper!" she tsked at him cheerfully, her eyes back to their (relatively) normal brilliance.
He growled and shot his tail-gun at her again, but she only ducked and cartwheeled over to disappear behind a bank of computers. "What are you doing here, Overdose?!"
"Shopping?" she ventured, her antenna waving at him from over top of the viewscreens like they knew he wouldn't risk damaging them computers by shooting at them. "I'm in the market for Maximal repellent, if you have any."
Come to think of it, he wouldn't mind having some. Along with some OVERDOSE repellent! "Overdose..." he rumbled warningly.
She smirked at him from behind the computer console, bright colors draining away from her fins to be replaced by dull grays and blacks. "Oh, alright," she sighed in a much calmer voice, "but I'm not coming out until you point that thing somewhere else!"
He glanced down at his tail-gun, which she was pointing at, and scowled. "Very well, yess-" he cut himself off and glowered as a wave of colors washed through her fins briefly in unmistakable amusement at his speaking habit. "But this had better be worth the trouble," he finished curtly, stalking over to sit on his slightly-burnt throne and pointedly not looking towards her.
Nothing happened, and he finally turned to glare at the computers only to whirl in surprise as something touched his arm on the other side. "Wha--?!" One tilted almond optic was watching him from over the armrest, and he snarled under his breath as it was joined by its twin.
The rest of Overdose rose gracefully from a crouch to stand beside him, tall enough to almost look him straight in the optics even though he was sitting in an elevated position. "You told me once that I could join the Predacons if I brought something to earn my way in," she said in a low, almost hypnotic voice, only her eyes showing traces of color now. "Is this true?"
His optics followed her suspiciously as she moved slowly to stand in front of him, the hand on his arm sliding over to rest on the center of his chest as she stopped, turned so she was looking at him sidelong. The gentle pressure from each poison-tipped nail sent a tiny shiver through him, but he was no stranger to the feeling of danger even though the femme in front of him seemed to radiate it intensely enough to burn. "Perhaps, yes," he said coolly, leaning back in his throne and laying his tail-gun on the armrest. He had led Predacons for too long not to recognize when someone had decided to get to the point, and he was confident that despite the sea slug's crazed behavior she was here to bargain, not to kill. "What have you brought?"
Overdose's expressive optics narrowed even as she smiled. "Not a Maximal, if that's what you mean," she crooned in that same, strange voice. "We have reached an agreement, they and I. A life to get into their faction," her head cocked to one side suddenly, eyes studying Megatron's face intently as he started to lift his tail-gun in defense, "and perhaps the same life to get into yours."
The gun froze in mid-motion, then slowly lowered back down to the armrest. Megatron's optics looked back into hers thoughtfully. She had just admitted to being a Maximal, and yet...
His hand rose, and her optics flickered to follow it. Deliberately, he pushed his hand underneath the deadly gauntlet resting on his chest, fingers sliding around hers. She resisted a moment, toxic nails making dents in the metal before she allowed him to lift her hand away. He held their entwined hands up so he could take a close look at the sharp points on the tip of each of her fingers.
"And what, my dear Overdose, are you planning?" he murmured as he examined her hand, noting that even the nails had dimmed to gray-tones. There was a link to the femme's dangerous side and the color change, he knew...but what? "You can't be a Maximal AND a Predacon."
She was still looking at him sidelong. "One of you probably couldn't...but, yes, I can. At night a Predacon; by day a Maximal." One shoulder rose and fell in a shrug, a streak of orange rippling through her fins and vanishing back into black. "More likely I'll just show up and help who I want. At least this way you'll stop fighting over what faction I'll join."
Their optics met over their clasped hands, and Megatron's mind raced. The benefits of Overdose joining the Predacons versus the fits of insanity; the problems of Overdose joining the Maximals versus the trouble she brought with her; danger and craziness versus possible victory...It all depended, he realized, upon what she had brought for buy her way into his faction.
She seemed to know what he was thinking. "Let me sweeten the deal," she purred, freeing her hand effortlessly and walking smoothly to the computer banks. Instead of using them in the conventional way, however, she scaled the side of the tallest and balanced on top. Megatron, following her progress, looked up and frowned. The dark object suspended high above the command platform wasn't supposed to be there! A moment later Overdose managed to cut the line holding whatever it was suspended, and he flinched as it came crashing down in front of him.
'It' turned out to be a rather mangled Tarantulas, hands tied tightly behind his back.
Overdose landed beside the tortured 'bot and grinned slightly at Megatron's shocked expression. She bent down and prodded Tarantulas, then sighed as he remained offline. A thin black remote appeared in one hand, and she pressed one of the green buttons on it.
Megatron flinched again, startled, as Tarantulas snapped online with an anguished shriek of pain, but then Overdose knelt down next to the 'bot and put a finger to her lips. "Shhhhh," she said softly, and Tarantulas fell silent, trembling visibly. Standing back up, she smiled at the tyrant. "Tarantulas made a very big mistake long ago when we were both on Cybertron," she explained. "He's paying for it now." The spider whimpered in a small voice, and she frowned down at him. "None of that, now."
He had recovered enough from the shock to appear relaxed once more. What had happened to Tarantulas looked more creative than the worst torture he had ever seen, but that merely confirmed what Rampage had reported about Overdose. The sight was somewhat sickening, but he had never particularly cared for Tarantulas. "And this," he waved his hand at the tortured 'bot dismissively, "is worth something...why?"
Her smile returned, and her eyes spangled with color bursts, reflecting her enjoyment of the situation even though the rest of her body remained ashen. Megatron smiled back at her. How civil they were, bargaining as if the pitiful wreckage of another Cybertronian didn't lie quivering on the floor between them!
She kicked at him. "This is your one chance, Tarantulas," she crooned viciously. "If you're good, maybe the nice Predacon leader will let you stay here instead of with me..." Chuckling, she grabbed one of his spider legs and used it to toss his helpless form across the floor to slam into the bottom of Megatron's throne. He left streaks of mechfluid behind him.
"Megatron..." The normally arrogant voice was broken and pleading. "Please...don't let her d-do this to me! I-I can't...no more...please...stop her..."
The tyrant's optics narrowed as he leaned forward to look down at the tormented 'bot huddled at his feet. "Why should I?" he asked with malicious casualness. "What's in it for me?"
Tarantulas moaned pathetically, gathering the strength to raise his head to meet Megatron's gaze. "An-anything," he almost whimpered, the unshattered half of his visor flickering erratically. "Anything. I'll...I'll do whatever you w-want, Megatron. J-just...just name your price." Panic flashed across his face as Megatron looked doubtful. "I-I'm still a Predacon! You c-can't let her-"
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, nooo," the tyrant interrupted him coldy, sitting back in his throne.
He cringed at the sudden move, trembling in fear of the femme he was at the nonexistent mercy of. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered desperately, any remnants of pride and dignity long gone. "I'm sorry! Please, Megatron, d-don't leave me with her...please..."
Overdose gave him an inquisitive look as Megatron nodded to her, but her eyes lit up when he glanced down at Tarantulas meaningfully. "Time to go," she said with mock cheerfulness as she walked forward, and the spider wailed like a dying spark as she seized him by his bound arms. His legs didn't work anymore, so she simply dragged him after her. "I'll be back," she shouted over his screams.
Megatron watched them leave, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the way Tarantulas begged him to reconsider until he was out of his range of hearing. After the spider's plotting and treachery, he felt Tarantulas deserved to panic.
He looked at the shadows on the wall that the lava cast, and suddenly his day didn't seem so bad. There was a new twist on the Beast Wars, now, and he wondered how much she was going to aid and/or hinder his plans.
* * * * *
"Think it's safe ta be back 'ere yet?" Quickstrike asked Waspinator as they scrubbed at the floor in front of the CR Tanks. Dried mech-fluid was a pain in the diodes to get out, but it was better than hiding in his quarters or being target-practice for Megatron.
The wasp shrugged. "Wazzpinator not know. Megatron take out problemzz on zzervizze ductzz?" He pointed at the holes in the crawl-space above them.
"Ah suppose, but-"
Both Predacons jumped and yelped in surprise as Tarantulas hit the floor between them, metal screeching in protest as he skidded along the floor. He hit the side of a CR Tank with a loud thud, but the screeching continued. It wasn't metal, though...
"Oh, shut UP!" someone said in an exasperated voice, and then Overdose bounced into sight. Apparently the drugs had hit, because her fins were wild with colors again. "I didn't throw you THAT far!" She paused and looked back over her shoulder. "Well...okay, maybe I did. But I'm sure you've been through worse!" She skipped over and smiled down at him. "At least, you will if you don't shut up."
The screaming cut off with terrified suddenness. The other two Predacons were staring at him in horror, but the tortured spider didn't look away from the femme standing over him. "N-no...please, Overdose..."
Overdose shook her head and looked at Quickstrike and Waspinator. "Is he pathetic or what?" They gulped and backed away, and she looked back down at Tarantulas. "It's been fun," she said to him, "but it's time to part ways." A black remote with green buttons appeared in her hand, and Tarantulas gave a strangled moan. "Wimp," she grumbled as she punched a combination in.
The collar around his neck beeped once...and fell off.
He gaped at it. "What..?"
She giggled merrily at his total shock and picked it up off the floor. "Surprise! That guy...uh...what's his name..." She looked up at the ceiling and appeared to sink deep into thought. "The purple dude..."
"Megatron?" Waspinator risked saying.
"YEAH!" The fuzor and wasp dove for cover behind the CR Tanks at her loud cheer. "Him! Anyway, he's gonna keep ya." She patted Tarantulas on the head patronizingly. "Wasn't that nice of him?"
"Nice..." he repeated dazedly.
"You sure are out of it," she sighed. "Tarantulas?" The spider slowly looked up at her, and she knelt down to his level, putting her mouth to his audio. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I've forgiven you, Eightline," she hissed, and Tarantulas whimpered as the crazed femme pinched an exposed nerve-wire cruelly. "If I don't think you're doing what Megatron tells you, well..." The nerve-wire twisted, and he screamed in pain. "Understand?"
He sagged as the agony eased. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes!"
"Good." Overdose stood back up and smirked. She grabbed a handful of his spider legs and heaved. "Up and over!"
Quickstrike shook his head as Tarantulas splashed into the CR Tank. "Ya'll pretty weird, even fer us," he told the femme as she somehow managed to trip over her own feet.
"You have no idea," Rampage growled from behind him, and both Waspinator and Quickstrike jumped and yelped again in surprise. They scurried out of his way as the crab strode forward, dragging Dinobot behind him. The silver raptor was offline and apparently at the losing end of a battle with a large piece of sheet metal that was driven part of the way through his upper body. "Is there any particular reason I found him glued to one of the autoguns?"
Overdose looked up at him innocently from the floor. "It seemed like fun at the time!"
"I'm going to kill you," he snarled.
"Is that before or after you and Depth Charge start dating?" she asked earnestly. She ignored the bellow of rage that provoked to shake an admonishing finger at him. "Do you threaten to kill all of us Predacons, or am I just special?"
He froze, staring at her. Quickstrike and Waspinator looked at each other. "'Uzz?'" Waspinator ventured.
The crazy femme nodded happily. "I'm a Predacon now! Doesn't it just make you feel all warm and safe inside to know that I'm part of the team?"
"Um," Quickstrike said.
"Um," Waspinator said.
"Um," Rampage said.
"Not really, no," Dinobot said, but then Rampage smacked him in the head out of reflex (seeing something sitting up out of the corner of his vision does that) and he went back to being unconscious.
Overdose giggled.
DONE! Finally! Yeesh, this was supposed to be a SHORT fic...anyway, tell me what you think at dementedangel@hotmail.com