Transformers belongs to Hasbro
Autobot Command was a different place with Optimus in charge of things. Optimus was the worst Magnus in the history of all Magnuses, all tender and kind to the wrong bots, with permissive policies that let all sorts of awful things go on. He'd quickly revoked all the necessary precautions that Sentinel had put into place, removing curfews and allowing places of collaboration to open up again. Sentinel knew that there were Decepticon sympathizers meeting in those filthy bars again, plotting ways to break Megatron out of the high-security lock-up.
Alright, so they hadn't managed it in the past ten stellar cycles, but that didn't mean that they were safe.
Danger lurked everywhere. Decepticons and 'Con-sympathizers lurked everywhere.
Optimus Magnus didn't seem to give a frag about that.
Sentinel knew better. He makes sure to hang around and remind Optimus all the time. They won't get caught unawares if Sentinel keeps his optics open and watching for the threat.
Which is part of the reason he noticed a bot that is always sneaking around. Optimus is always telling him to leave her alone, but he needs to know why this little yellow femme is constantly wandering around the Autobot Headquarters. Why she's always darting away when she catches sight of him.
And why Optimus Magnus always seeming to help her hide from him.
He had thought at first that she was just a product of his imagination, but she really isn't. Other bots have seen her, too. They don't know much about her other than she sometimes takes the spacebridge back and forth between here and... somewhere else. The ones that know, just give him a dirty look and tell him to get away from the spacebridge controls. They say it is nothing he needs to know, since he's no longer the Magnus, and Optimus has ordered it to be completely secret.
It just makes him want to know all the more.
For all the ways he hates Optimus being Magnus, and Optimus in general, Sentinel does have to concede a few things about him. He's pretty fragging noble. He also is a complete and utter virgin. If it were not for those things, he'd think the femme was some kind of 'Con that Optimus kept as a berthwarmer. But she's obviously not.
He's seen enough of her to know that.
She's so tiny. So cute. And she's driving him crazy.
He wants to get her alone for just two kliks so he can get a designation out of her and maybe learn where she's living while she's here on Cybertron.
He can never find her when it is time to leave the headquarters, even if he'd been trailing her in the most covert ways. He learned to walk like a ninjabot for Primus's sake. Just so he could follow her around and know what he can call her. He hates just calling her 'the little yellow femme' when she's clearly so much more than that.
He hates how he likes her spark blue paint that glows when she looks happy. Hates how he wants nothing more than to be with her to make that paint glow. Not even in an interfacing way, just to make her smile.
He'd like to know her well enough to see her smile. She's always wearing her facemask. It would make sense if she was horribly damaged, like Wheeljack, and was hiding that. But he doesn't think she is, just that she doesn't want her face to be seen.
It had made him suspicious at first, but now... now all it does is make him want to convince her it is fine to have her face showing.
So he can maybe kiss it, if she's got a pretty face under there.
If she's horribly scarred . . . well, he'll figure that out if it happens.
There's just something so familiar about her. He wants to get her name and - Primus, frag it all.
He's going to ask her out the next time he catches a glimpse of her. Even if he ends up humiliating himself doing it. He'll find her and ask her, and . . . frag. He never manages to get close enough to her to ask.
He shudders.
He's going to have to ask Optimus.
He leans on the desk, watching as Optimus walks in. He raises an optic ridge, "You're late."
The Magnus looks at him for a long moment, then sits down at the desk, pulling over a datapad, "You're here early, is there any reason you think you need to be here so soon? You could harass someone else. Cliffjumper, maybe? Cosmos? Cosmos sounds like a good bot for you to talk to, rather than you telling me that I'm late when I'm really not."
He glares, "You are late. Normally you get in a breem earlier than this. What kept you?"
The Magnus doesn't look up, "I was helping a friend with something. It took a little time to do it, but it is worth it. They will be glad to talk to their creator for a few sols before I need to pick them up."
He wonders if that means the yellow femme is gone again.
"I," he grits his denta, "I want to ask you a favor." Oh, this burns so fragging badly, to have to ask Optimus for this. "I want you to ask the yellow femme out on a date with me. Next sol."
The Magnus's optics go wide with shock, and he coughs, "I . . No." Then he turns away, "You can leave now, Sentinel Prime. You are dismissed."
Sentinel fumes, but he cannot ignore an order from his Magnus, even if that Magnus is Optimus. "Yes, sir." He leaves, scowl etched deep into his faceplates. Maybe the femme was Optimus's berthbot. There was no other reason to deny him his request. Sentinel was quite the catch. Any femme would be lucky to have him.
He wants to punch the wall, but he has more self-control than that. More ability to keep hold of what he's doing than that. More...
He really wants to ask that pretty femme what she thinks of him. He could talk to her and see what she likes. He could buy her a fine high grade, and let her drink it. She would likely need even less than a scooterbot. She is so tiny.
Well, she could be a scooterbot. He could never tell what her altmode was, since she didn't even have any wheels. Maybe she has hoverpads instead, like Botanica in her botmode.
He goes to his desk, and sinks into his chair. He doesn't know what to do.
The little femme is driving him mad, and he doesn't even know her name. It's so fragging frustrating he wants to scream. Instead, he buries himself in datapads and reports, critiquing them, rejecting all but a few for being inadequate or not up to Autobot Command standards. It gives him something else to think about. Other than a pretty yellow mystery femme.
She's there again. On Cybertron.
Sentinel just saw her pass down one of the hallways. A hallway that he knows leads to a datapad storage room and nothing else.
He has her right where he wants her. She won't escape him this time. He'll find out who the frag she is.
He hurries into the datapads, looking through the the various rows of shelves, hurrying around it. She can't be anywhere far. She's small enough that she can't outpace him.
Even though she's done that several times before when he was trying to catch up to her.
He looks around, only to get lost in the stacks, unsure where he is. About a klik later, he gets back to near the door, only to see her ped disappear around the corner in the hallway.
He curses, and gets shushed by the bot at the desk.
He slams a servo down on the desk, staring the bot straight in the startled optics, "Who was that femme?"
The datapad bot blinks, and glances at the door, "You don't know? She's one of the Magnus's companions. She comes here often for datapads." The bot gets a shrewd look on his faceplates, "You know, if you don't know her designation, I'm not sure I should inform you of it. Perhaps it is supposed to be a private thing."
Sentinel hisses, "I outrank you, soldier. Tell me who she is."
The bot smiles, "I'm a civilian, sir. Datapad specialist. You're not in my line of command."
He glares, "I'm second in command on in this base, you will tell me."
The bot smiles wider, "And the datapad storage has me as an independent contractor. It says right in my contract that I don't really take orders from anyone here other than to keep the place safe. I'm under no obligation to tell you."
He does not sink to his knees, even if he really really wants to. "Very well." He turns away, walking out of the room. He's going to find a copy of that mech's contract and see. If not, he's going to have that bot fired for insubordination.
Almost a decade of chasing a femme with no clues makes a bot more than a little tired of all this happening.
Maybe he'll just start stalking Optimus.
If she's really one of his companions, and it's obvious she is, then she'll have to meet up with him some time. He can follow Optimus until he meets with the femme, and then pop out of the shadows and-probably get an axe to the face for his troubles.
Alright.
He can follow Optimus, learn the femme's name, and then research her so he can figure out where she lives. If he can't find any information on her, then she's obviously a 'Con, and he can drag her in for questioning.
And by questioning, he means he can finally ask her out on a date.
It is a sign of how low he's sunk that he can't find it in himself to care if she's a Decepticon as long as she doesn't try to pry information about the Autobots from him. Pit, if she wants that, she already has Optimus in her grasp, and they're all slagged anyway.
He has no clue how it came to this. He really doesn't.
He backs up a little more, getting pinned in the corner by the large green bot on Optimus's team, closely followed by the medic and the minibot. All three of them give him hatefilled looks, and the minibot pokes him in the chest, glaring up at him, "You will stop stalking Optimus. He's not interested in you at all."
Interested in- oh ugh, Primus. They think he wants Optimus? His faceplates twist with disgust, "No. Primus, no. I'm not interested in him." He brightens a bit. This is Optimus's team. If any of them know about the mystery femme, they will. But how to go about asking? He gives them a sly look, "I'm just keeping an optic out for him, you know? Being the Magnus is a dangerous job, and Optimus Magnus keeps rejecting any guards. I worry about him, and his friends. You bots. That little yellow femme."
If anything, they get more hostile at the mention of her. The medic snarls as the other two bristle. He's shoved into the wall by the medic, his immobilizing weaponry pointed right in his face, "You stay the frag away from her. You're a fragger and would only hurt her if she did say yes. You sicken us."
She is so lovely, he really can't find it in him to heed any threat they give him. He really does not care what they think, other than how much more difficult this will make it.
He looks at the medic through the little hole in the weapon pointed at him, "... Would she say yes? I mean, I'd like to know if I have a cha-"
"No." The large green one shoves his shoulder, "You're not going to ask her, and she'd refuse anyway. You leave her alone."
"I see no harm in letting me ask her," Sentinel points out, and then makes a strangled sound as the minibot shoves a stinger against his sparkplates.
"You lay one fragging finger on her and I'll make you regret it."
He was going to get that bot courtmarshalled for assaulting and threatening a superior officer. He was going to get them all courtmarshalled for this. But for now, his goal was getting that femme's name. "I think that's up to her to decide. She'll want to talk to me, if you let her have the chance."
The green one and the minibot - he thinks their names are Bulkhead and Bumblebee, but he had so many bots he was training for the army, he has no clue - exchange a look, and Bumblebee laughs, a large and loud sound that shakes his frame since it comes from such a large mech, his green arm hitting the wall as he laughs, "You... you think she'd want to talk to you? Of all bots?"
The minibot, Bulkhead, glares at him, "No."
He frowns at them, "You don't know that. You are just being far too overprotective. She could want me. You are just making her decision for her, and she is her own bot. She can-"
The medic pushes his weapons in his face, "Like frag she will. Stay away from her."
Sentinel falls silent, narrowing his optics at them. He'll get them for this. Make them regret humiliating him this way. They won't get away with it. Not at all. And he's not going to give up on the yellow femme.
Not until she tells him to frag off on her own.
He'll listen to her, not to these afts.
They eventually let him go, apparently deciding that he's agreed to their terms, which he has not. They walk away with a few more threats and warnings, and Sentinel watches them, servos trembling with rage.
He is not exactly happy right now. He hasn't seen any sign of that yellow femme for the last two decacycles. He stopped following Optimus, since that seems to only bring ire down on him. The three teammates of Optimus somehow got off scotfree for what they did to him. He is not the least bit pleased about it. Even when he was Magnus, he didn't use his power to keep other bots from being punished for threatening someone.
If anything, he was harsher in his punishments. That sort of thing just wasn't allowed. Nothing like that would have gotten ignored.
So he's currently sitting at his desk, working on his datapads. His boring, boring datapads.
He vents a longsuffering sigh and sends another pad into the rejected pile. None of the bots here know how to write a simple, accurate report. He could ask them to file a simple report on their work at their desk for the sol, and they'd send him some long, rambling thing about datafile 17 and how it had eluded them for three megacycles only to be found in the recyclebin on their console. All he wanted was a list of what they'd accomplished that sol. Nothing else.
It should have been easy. He'd explained it to all of them. Three times. With slides.
He groans, wanting to put his head on his desk, but knowing better. He taps on the datapad, going through it all, and hating how it just wastes his time. Then, something amazing happens.
The lovely little yellow femme shows up, walking right next to his desk. Not even thinking, he reaches over, and picks her up. Setting her so she's sitting on his desk, he stares at her.
Primus... she's so tiny. She's delicate and dainty, little servos and peds with long legs with a skirt and tiny faux wings on her back. He would like to rub her side, but he contains himself.
She blinks at him for a moment then says, "... Hi. So I was told that you were looking for me?"
"I was." He smiles charmingly at her, "And it appears that I have found you. Or you have found me."
She blinks again, and then frowns, "If you're going to get upset about me being here, you shouldn't bother Optimus about it. It's totally legal. I've got permission to be on Cybertron and everything."
He feels his spark sink a bit. She was a Decepticon. Or an ex-'Con, since she has no faction symbol on her. He'd never thought he'd be dating a Decepticon, but . . . well, things change. She's entirely too cute to pass up on. Maybe she was a spy all along, some bot so deep undercover that even he was never notified of her. A mech can hope.
"That was not my concern, no." Sentinel rests a servo on the desk beside her, daring to brush her thigh armor with one finger, making it seem like an accident. "I was hoping you would agree to accompany me to a play this evening." Elita had always loved plays. Most femmes did.
She blinks at him, putting her delicate little servo to her face, "Are... are you asking me out?"
He nods, "I was hoping that you'd be willing to-"
She looks away, "You... you really don't want to date me." She tilts her head, and her optics move in a way that implies an apologetic smile, "No one here will want to date me." She laughs, slightly bitterly, "No one at home wants to date me, either." She very cautiously pats his servo, her little fingers warm against his, "I know you, of all bots, would want me the very least. You should give up on it, okay? I mean, you just don't like me. You really don't."
Oh, Primus, she really is a 'Con. He can't think of any other reason she would say this sort of thing, but... he... he really can't bring himself to care. He's been chasing her for so long, the idea of just... giving up now is unthinkable. "Please? I'd love it if you would come with me."
"Look," she sighs, the sound long and mournful, "if you knew what I was hiding, you'd-"
"I know," he interrupts her. "I know your secret. Why you keep taking the spacebridge. Why you hide from most of the bots here." She was a 'Con, but . . he can handle that. He'd get her enrolled in some of the Cybertronian citizenship classes. She'd get to read lots of Autobot propaganda and it would help her transition into her new life here. He would help her. "I don't mind. And I won't tell anyone else."
She stares at him. "You . . . frag." She looks away, "I'm gonna regret this. Fine. I'll go out with you. This one time."
He grins, wide and excited, "Really?"
She huddles in on herself, wrapping her arms around her lovely frame, "Don't... don't make me regret it, okay? I'm only doing this because you know, and seem to accept it." She offlines her optics, looking hurt and broken, "If you're only doing this to... humiliate me. Please don't. You don't need to do that. Optimus and them will just get angry, and it won't be worth it. It really-"
He touches her side, "I am not going to just humiliate you because of what you are. You are safe from any humiliation while I'm with you. If anyone tries, I will keep you safe from it. Think of me as... your knight in shining armor." He grins at her, dente shining, "I will keep you safe."
She looks down, and he can almost imagine her blush - making him wish, again, that she wasn't wearing that facemask - "If... if you say so. I don't really need more bots to protect me. Optimus and them are more than enough." She looks up at him from under her helmet, "Or maybe not enough. You still figured out what I am."
"It's alright. I doubt anyone else knows the signs. They wouldn't know what to look for." The bots here were so lax about Decepticons. Half of them wouldn't recognize a 'Con even if the bot stood right in front of them with neon lights around their brand. Flashing neon lights. "I'm sure no one else knows about it."
She rubs one of her arms absently, "I hope not. Bots don't react well when they find out. I didn't think that you of all bots would take this so . . . easy. It's hard to believe you're not trying to pull a trick on me."
Sentinel puts a servo over his sparkplates, "I swear to Primus himself that I am not trying to upset you."
She looks at him shyly, "Okay." She stands up, pressing a servo to the one on his chest, "Can you put me back on the floor?"
He smiles, "In a klik. I need your frequency, and... I'd like your designation."
She tilts her head, "I'm Sari." Her frequency is beamed to him, and then she puts a servo to his again, "I should let you work. I just run datapads around to where they should go, so what I do isn't that important. Not like yours, Mr. Second In Command Of The Autobots."
He smiles, glad that someone finally realizes how hard he works. "I'm sure that your work is just as important." He sets her gently on the floor, holding her waist. He'd like to rub her lovely little frame, but he stops himself. "The play is this evening, would you like me to pick you up after work?"
"Yeah." Her tone is surprisingly shy and timid for a femme. They're usually more assertive. "I'd like that." She rushes towards the door, "I'll come by your office. You get off the same time as Optimus, right?"
He nods. "I do."
She shifts awkwardly on her peds, "I don't think we should tell Optimus or the others about this. I really don't think they'll react well at all, okay? We can talk to them. . . later. Like, next vorn." She doesn't wait for his reply before scurrying away.
Sentinel stares after her and sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Sari. What a-he frowns-what a familiar name. He's heard it somewhere before.
Optimus must have mentioned it at some point.
He sits in his office, normally he ignores it since he's more likely to get things done if he's in the open desk, where everyone can put their datapads for him to look over and not worry about interrupting him. But now.. well, he does want to be there for Sari.
She comes in about a breem after work ends, and closes the door quietly behind her. She looks up at him with bright and mischievous optics. "Hi!" She walks over to him, reaching up, as if to be picked up, so he does.
She giggles happily, as he smiles and says, "Hello. Did Optimus or the others give you any trouble?"
She shakes her head, "No. Not at all. I told them each that I was going to get a ride with someone else, and never told them it was you. We have all night, and I can just have you drop me off at home." She gives him a cautious look, "Right?"
He nods, "Exactly." He walks to the door, holding her carefully in his arms, "I was thinking you may want to get polished up before we go. I need to as well."
She glances down at herself, and then shrugs, "Yeah, I guess so. How nice is the place we're going to?"
Nice enough that he'd had to trade in a massive amount of credits to get tickets for a showing that night. And he'd had to rely on his rank, which he always disliked. "It is nice enough that if we show up without polish, they will not allow us inside."
His only regret was not being able to secure a private booth for them. They were going to have to sit in the middle of the crowd, and countless bots would be watching them, meaning that he'd be lucky to get further than holding her servo that night.
She tilts her head, "How cold will it be?"
Oh... he hadn't even thought about that. With a frame so tiny, she would easily get far too cold. "I'm not sure how you will do it. I am fine there, but you're..." He trails off, unhappy with himself.
She reaches into her subspace, pulling out a tiny but beautiful cloak, "Can I wear this?"
He steps out of his office, feeling better, "Yes. Would you like me to wear mine so that we halfway match? It would be better if we do."
She nods, putting the cloak back in subspace and leaning on him, "I think I'd like that." She nuzzles him, tiny engine purring happily against his plating. "I'd... I'd like that a lot."
"Then we shall wear cloaks to the play. But first, we should get polished." He sets her on the counter in the office washrack-only a half wash-rack, really. It has a sink and several mirrors, but no solvent sprays. He turns on the faucet, and soaks a cloth in the solvents, giving himself a quick wipe-down. It's not entirely appropriate, doing this with another bot in the room, but they don't have enough time to take turns. Not if they want to be allowed into the play on time.
She cleans herself up as well, doing a better job of it than he does, and puts her cloak on, cuddling into it. She looks over at him just as he pulls out his cloak, and her optics brighten as it gets fastened on, "You have yellow trim!"
Elita had gotten it for him, having wanted to show everyone who he belonged to. He never had the spark to throw it out or let it get into disrepair. He's glad he took such great care of it if it means that Sari is excited to see it. "I do." He holds out his arms, and she lets him pick her up, "Shall we go?"
She leans on him, "Yeah." She touches his shoulder, "I'm glad that you have an altmode with seats. You can carry me."
"I suppose you can fit inside, if you insist on riding in there," the idea of it still . . bothers him. More than he'll admit to the femme. It's weakness, and he won't admit to that weakness. She should ride in his truckbed like a normal bot, but . . . Perhaps she is testing him.
She knows he's aware that she is or was a Decepticon. If he really isn't bothered by it, he'll let her inside, where it would be so very easy for her to slag him up, ripping through his thinner internal plating to destroy him.
She beams, "Good. Optimus and them always make me feel safer in them than any other bot since they have seats and seatbelts."
If Optimus lets her do this, like slag is he going to not let her. He's just as good or better than Optimus could ever be. He is better. Optimus could have never been able to lead Cybertron during wartime. It is easy to do it during peace, but the moment a bot needs to worry about 'Cons, it is no longer something that can just be ignored.
He folds down when they get outside and he lets her climb inside him, and slag, it feels weird. Like there's something stuck in his gears that he needs to push out. How can Optimus stand this? Sentinel feels a minute shudder run down his frame, but he pushed past it. He would pass this test of hers. Sari would realize what a catch he was and agree to keep dating him.
He slowly drives down the streets, carrying her towards the theater. "I'm not sure if you'll like the play, but I've been told that the actors are excellent."
She rubs her servo on his seats, "I'm willing to try it. I mean, I don't mind most things."
He flicks his windshield wipers in agreement, "I'm glad." He goes a little faster, "I am sorry to say that I could not get a private box, we will be in with the rest of the crowd. You don't mind, do you?"
She shakes her head, fingers dragging along his dashboard in the most wonderfully spark tingling way, "I'm fine with that. Are we going to be in the same chair, or are there one for each of us?"
"One for each. You will not need to worry about how I am holding you."
It would be scandalous for him to hold her in his lap. He will hold her servo if she allows it. He gasps as her servos suddenly squeeze the strange wheel inside of him.
"What are you doing?" he wiggles it out of her reach, and she laughs, shifting forward to grab it again.
"Calm down. I'm not going to drive you. I just want to feel you. You're different inside than Optimus is." The warm servos slide along the wheel, squeezing it again.
He almost drives off the road at the onrush of pleasure. He possibly should have paid more attention to what he had there, rather than ignoring it. That would have given him some warning about what is going on.
She rubs him a little harder, "You're really sensitive." His spark heats with lust, but she pulls away. "You really are. I can ..." She looks down, not saying more.
He wonders what she was going to say, but he has a small fear that it was about his spark. As much as he'd like her to touch it at some point, it is not something that a bot talks about on the very first date. He's glad she's learned that. Most Decepticons wouldn't care.
They drive in silence to the play, and he opens his door, waiting for her to get out. There are . . . a few reporterbots nearby, interviewing one of the actors, and he slips on his cloak, waiting for Sari to do the same before he picks her up and carries her towards then entrance quickly. He does not want to be found out.
He's not ashamed of dating Sari, Decepticon, but . . he knows it will end badly if they get caught so soon and Optimus and his team discover their relationship.
He hands over the tickets and is led to where they will be sitting. He's thankful that the mech says nothing as he sets Sari in the more comfortable looking of the chairs, and sits next to her. When the usherbot leaves, he looks at her with dim optics, "The play will be starting in a klik."
She nods, pushing at the armrest between them, and making a pleased sound as it goes up. She tugs him a bit closer to her chair, "I look forward to it."
He loves that she is so willing to be with him. So eager for him.
Optimus must have known she liked him, and his team must have kept her away out of dislike for him. They knew their little femme would fall for him. They likely worried that he would be upset by her Decepticon past. He's . . surprisingly not. She was a 'Con, but she is obviously not now. Perhaps she is striving to be a neutral. With his help, she'll be an Autobot.
He puts a servo next to her, resting it on the seat so that she can cuddle against him and to keep her from prying optics. He sees how the various bots look at her, and he is not happy about it. They want to know who she is, but he knows that she's been kept hidden.
He spent about ten decacycles chasing her down just to get this far. It doesn't matter that he was working through how much he dislikes Decepticons just to force himself to accept her. He likes her, and has no interest in sharing. Well, of sharing unless that's what she wants.
He's clearly going to have to stop disliking Optimus and his team. But... He glances down at her, and his expression softens. It will be worth it as long as he has her.
Besides, he can still think they're all slaggers. He just can't let any of it show, or it'll undoubtedly upset Sari. And he doesn't want that at all.
The play starts, and he turns his attention to it, but part of him stays focused on Sari. He lets his servo inch slowly towards hers, until it finally makes contact about a breem in. She curls her fingers around his, and he smiles to himself, giving her servo a gentle squeeze. He's not going to push his luck and try teasing her fingers with his on the first date. Sentinel is a gentlemech. He would never do such things.
The play is an old one that has been translated into common Cybertronion. A classic tale that everyone knows and grew up on. He choose it because it was so very harmless. He didn't want to get something to scare her away. It is just a romance story about a mech and a femme that had to overcome adversity to be together. There is no mention of faction, and the actors even have their Autobot symbols carefully hidden through the entire play.
He had that sort of behavior stopped when he was Magnus, since it needed a strong Autobot showing to make bots realize how they needed to be solidified in their unity. But... he supposes it is better to keep the lack of factions in it now, especially since he doesn't want to have Sari think he's only doing this to force her into giving away her secrets to everyone.
He is a bit worried, of course. There's only so much he can do to stop bots from investigating Sari's past, and if she has obvious ties to the Decepticons, she will be found out eventually. He hopes it takes the media bots a vorn or so to figure it out, because he can have her deeply entrenched in an Autobot way of life by then. Then it won't matter if bots claim she's a traitor-well, it will, and it will sting his pride terribly, and hurt her as well-but they won't be able to demand that he stop being with her. If they were to find out now . . . well, the second in line to becoming Magnus is not generally allowed to interfac-to . . ahem. . . engage in a relationship with a Decepticon. Not even an ex-Decepticon.
He smiles when she sighs and curls against him, fingers still holding his servo. He thinks he could get used to this. To her just... being with him. She's a tiny warm weight on him that just makes his spark warm at the thought of her. He's glad that he finally really found her.
When the play ends, she looks up at him, and he can see her optics crinkle in a happy smile. "That was fun."
He gently picks her up, carrying her carefully, and starts to walk out, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I was thinking that we'd go to the Nuts and Bolts for energon. It is an energon shop that-"
She shakes her head, "No. No energon. It just... it isn't..."
Oh... she has an energon allergy. That is incredibly unfortunate. Oh, Primus. She's likely been transwarping to other planets to look for crystals or things that have fuel that she can eat. No wonder she's been using the spacebridge a lot. "I can just take you home?" The additive that could be mixed with energon to make it edible for such bots was extremely expensive. Most bots with the allergy ended up slowly starving to death.
He'll invest in some of it for her, if they stay together. He's on a Prime's salary, which means he can afford it. He'd be able to afford it better if he was on a Magnus's salary, but he'll just have to wait for Optimus to do something stupid enough to get himself demoted by the Council. It should only take a few vorns.
"Uh, sure." Sari lays against his chest briefly, smiling up at him, and Sentinel tries to keep them away from the cameras he knows are pointed at them. They've been noticed by the media. Only his . . . temperament, and that one noteable incident where Sentinel had punched a camerabot in the face was stopping them from approaching and demanding answers.
He sets her down when they're on the sidewalk, transforming into his vehicle mode on the street, and opens his door for her. She climbs in, buckling up and rubbing his door when he closes it. He smiles to himself, taking off down the street. "Where do you live?"
She laughs softly, "I don't think that you'd be allowed in, actually. I'm in the ninjabot neighborhood. They don't like nonninjabots in there, not even to visit. They hate being forced to let Optimus in, and give me a hard time if he shows up."
Well, that complicates things, but isn't too terrible. He can deal with this. He really can. It just means that he won't kiss her goodnight on her doorstop. If... if she wants a kiss at all. Granted, she is a ninjabot since she just said she lives there, so she will likely want one.
Primus. He's dating a ninjabot Decepticon. He never thought this would happen. If his creators were still online, they would be tisking at him and informing him that no bot in their lineage was allowed to have a relationship with a bot like that. His extended family was unlikely to approve of it either, but he hasn't actively contacted them in decavorns, so he doesn't expect them to suddenly get interested in him.
They didn't contact him when he was made Magnus. They're not going to now.
He heads to the ninjabot neighborhood, and she touches his inside wheel again, rubbing it in a far too distracting manner. "Did... did you enjoy the play, too?" she asks softly.
He flicks his windshield wipers happily, "I did." Less because of what the play was about, and more because she is with him. She did not argue about anything that went on, and she had gasped in appreciation about all the more Autobot themes. It shows that she is more than willing to make that jump from neutral to Autobot. She may be waiting longer to be fully neutral to get rid of her Decepticon past before becoming an Autobot, but that is more than possible. He will do everything he can to help her.
He told her he'd keep her safe, and this will just be a part of that.
She slips out of him when they arrive, and then leans over to press a very brief kiss to his window, facemask tapping against it. "I had a very nice time tonight." While his sensors are still tingling, she pats one of his rearview mirrors and slips away, into the night, disappearing from sight.
He transforms up and stares after her, wishing he'd gotten that kiss somewhere more sensitive, like his mouth.
He smiles and folds back down, driving away. There was always next time. But first, he has a gift to prepare for her.
A very costly gift, of crystals and energon that she can fuel on.
Please Review
Okay, okay, I know you're going to be upset at us for this. How could we do something as horrible as make a fic staring Sentinel? Because he's not terrible. He really isn't. He's noble, and steadfast. Yes, he's a jerk, but that doesn't mean he is a terrible person. Just hold through it :3