Culture Conflict

Pairing(s): Bluestreak/Cliffjumper, mentions of others

Continuity: G1, cartoon

Warning: Some non-graphic mentions of plug'n'play robot sex. No beta.

Summary: Spike and Bluestreak reflect on the difference between their two species. Humor. Mentions of sex and interfacing.

Notes: Most fics have interfacing be about the same thing for Transformers that it is for humans, so I played with the idea of it serving an entirely different purpose and farted this out.

"Hey there, little buddy." A booming voice called down at Spike from above his head. "You looking for Bumblebee?"

Spike looked up and waved at Hound in greeting. "I sure am! Do you know where he's at?"

"Hm, well let me see about that." Hound held out one dark gray finger in a waiting gesture and looked off into the distance. "Red Alert, this is Hound. Do you know where Bumblebee is located?" he said to apparently empty air.

Spike smiled to himself. He knew from conversations with his father that all the Autobots had internal radios and didn't need to talk aloud to use them. Still, it was very nice of them to do it anyway and let their human friends know what's being said.

"Bumblebee is in a meeting with Optimus and Prowl. They won't be finished for another joor," said Red Alert's voice out of nowhere, "Did you need anything?"

"Nope, Spike was just looking for him. Thanks, pal. Hound out," Hound said. He tilted his head down to address Spike. "Why don't you wait in the rec room until he's done? I'll give him a message to look for you there."

"That sounds great," Spike said, "Thanks for your help!"

Hound nodded agreeably. "I can't leave my post, but do you want me to call one of the others to give you a lift?"

"That's okay, I need the workout," Spike said with a laugh. He lifted his hand in farewell and set off jogging down the hall.

And quite a workout it was. The Ark simply wasn't built for someone Spike's size and it was the equivalent of several blocks to get from one spot to another. But that was fine, he was used to hard work from the oil rig and it was worth it to be able to hang out with his cool new friends.

He reached the rec room to find a small group of Autobots gathered in front of the big video screen against the wall. The show playing on it made him sigh. Great, another Soap Opera. He really wished that they would take an interest in the cartoons and mechanical shows he'd had them watch instead. Even sitcoms would be better than this.

For some reason though, giant robots from space found convoluted human dramas deeply fascinating. Spike just couldn't make sense of it.

Spike looked around, but there wasn't anything else of interest going on in the rec room. With another big sigh, he walked over to join the group watching TV. Bluestreak spotted him first.

"Spike! Welcome back!" A murmur of similar greeting came from the others, though none of them looked away from the screen. "Did you come to watch the show with us?" Bluestreak bent over and thrust out his hand to offer Spike a lift up without waiting for answer. "Today's episode is really exciting. There's a big reveal coming up, I can just feel it! Oh, but you've missed the last three episodes, you probably don't know what going on. Do you want me to give you a summary? See last time, Justin told Naomi that - "

"Whoa, whoa!" Spike said, waving his hands in front of his face. He stepped up onto Bluestreak's palm and braced himself against the dizzying sensation of being hoisted several feet into the air. "That's okay, Blue, I don't need to know. I'm just hanging out until Bumblebee is done with his meeting."

"Yeah, 'n some of us are tying to listen," Cliffjumper said irritably from where he was seated on the floor.

"Oh," Bluestreak said in a small voice. He carefully deposited Spike on the arm of the giant couch he shared with Sideswipe and Jazz. He sounded so down that Spike gave him a smile and patted one over-sized finger.

"Thanks for the offer," he said kindly. It never ceased to amaze him how sensitive some of his friends could be, even though they looked so tough. He had watched Bluestreak take a missile to the shoulder like it was nothing, but a few words could really hit him hard.

Bluestreak beamed and returned to watching the show. Spike sat down cross legged and braced his chin in his palm.

A few minutes later, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. Gosh this stuff was boring. All that had happened was the one woman had caught the one guy kissing her best friend or something and now they were fighting about it. They weren't even yelling or anything, just talking and they kept pausing to stare at each other while the music swelled.

"I don't know if I can trust you anymore. I don't know if I ever could," the woman on the screen said, clasping her arms tightly around herself. She turned away suddenly and the camera zoomed in on her face as she seemed to be fighting against tears. Spike yawned. "It's not just Amy, Justin. I know about you and Katlin, too."

The music struck a dramatic cord.

Around Spike, the Autobots... well, chuckled. At least Bluestreak, Jazz, and Trailbreaker, who sat at Jazz's feet at the other end of the couch, did. Next to Bluestreak, Sideswipe was shaking his head, as if in amazement.

"Humans are so strange," Bluestreak said quietly and chuckled again. The show ended and switched to a commercial. They made no move to change the channel or turn it off, so there was probably another one coming up next.

Spike cocked his head at the Autobots thoughtfully. He didn't get what they liked about Soap Operas, but he did know those types of shows were meant to be serious, not funny.

"What do you mean?" Spike asked.

"I mean the way you all get so worked up over - " Bluestreak abruptly cut off.

Spike looked around, but couldn't see what would have caused the sudden silence. All of the others appeared to be focused the toothpaste commercial and there was no one new coming in the doorway.

Bluestreak made a sound like an engine refusing to turn over. It reminded Spike of his father clearing his throat. "Well, human relationships in general are strange."

Spike laughed. "I can't say I disagree with you there! We have some trouble with them ourselves."

They shared a smile. The opening song of another Soap quickly recaptured Bluestreak's attention. Spike, bored, mentally drifted.

Bluestreak's words made him think of something he'd never really considered before. What was dating and marriage like among the Autobots? Of course, they were robots and, judging by how Wheeljack put together the Dinobots, they built each other out of spare parts to keep the population up. On top of that, they all seemed to be men. Were there women robots somewhere on Cybertron? Or were they all killed in the war? Maybe his friends just didn't have romance or families at all. It wasn't like they needed them to reproduce.

He tried to imagine what that would be like. Girls and dating were something he didn't have the time for right now, but he'd always known that some day, he'd grow up to have a wife and kids. A partner to trust and love and look after. A son to teach to play ball like his father taught him. A daughter to dance with and buy pretty things for. A house full of fun and laughter and comfort. He looked forward to eventually having a family of his own.

The idea of never having that struck him as painfully lonely.

He glanced at friends with a newly awakened sympathy and resolved to never again give them a hard time about their shows.

Eventually, Bumblebee arrived to collect his human and the two left, chatting excitedly about their plans for the day. As soon as they were out of human hearing range, Cliffjumper turned around to swat Bluestreak across the knees with a loud clang.

"Great going, blabbermouth," Cliffjumper said, "And right after Optimus Prime warned us about that, too."

"Ow! I'm sorry! He asked and I didn't know what else to say and even among humans its very rude not to answer when someone asks you a question and he is our friend and -"

"Hey, hey, it's cool," Jazz said, interrupting Bluestreak's apologetic babble, "It's not like Spike kept asking or seemed suspicious, y'know. And if he gets a little nosy, well, Bumblebee knows how to handle it."

"And so what if he does learn?" Sideswipe interjected, "It's not like the humans are going tell us to stop protecting them from Decepticons just 'cause they don't like our sex habits. If they do, they're too stupid to live anyway."

"That's not nice, Sideswipe," Trailbreaker said, turning around give the red twin a frown, "We're lucky they're so accepting of us as it is. Most organic species just scream and throw stuff."

Sideswipe made a whirling sound, both conceding and doubtful. "I still don't think it matters."

"Me, I don't wanna deal with any more hassle than we already gotta," Cliffjumper said, still glaring at Bluestreak with clear annoyance, "It's bad enough we have to start being secretive in the first place."

"I'll be more careful," Bluestreak promised.

Cliffjumper processed that for a klick and than nodded in acknowledgment. His bad mood didn't seem in any rush to dissipate, though, so Bluestreak extended his arm and popped open the interface port along the side invitingly. Nothing cleared the air after an argument like some mutual stimulation between teammates, after all. Cliffjumper relaxed almost instantly in response and rose to switch places with Sideswipe.

Bluestreak felt a surge of relief. It was rare that he got turned down for interfacing and when he did, it was always because the other person was stressed out about something else. Even then, they usually came to see him later to make up for it. But he still feared it happening, because he knew how annoying the others found him at times.

Data transfer prongs slid out on Cliffjumper's arm. With a practiced shift of limbs, they docked together. Cliffjumper sent a tingling pulse of data over the connection and Bluestreak, with an appreciative shiver, responded eagerly in kind, well versed in his teammate's hot spots. The two of them tended to clash a lot, as much because of Cliffjumper's temper as Bluestreak's habit of talking his mouth off, and they interfaced often to maintain a more peaceable working relationship.

The other three, meanwhile, politely ignored the pair and went back to watching their show.

As pleasure danced delightfully across his circuits, Bluestreak experienced a brief moment of sympathy for humans. They put so many rules and restrictions and limitations on their social interactions, it was a wonder they were able to connect with each other at all. It had to be terribly lonely.

He resolved not to laugh at their prudishness again.

END

*** CUT SCENE ***

"Oh sure, all the time," Bumblebee said cheerfully, making a dismissive gesture with his hand, "You've probably seen some of us at it, too"

Spike's jaw dropped. He wasn't sure what had inspired him to suddenly ask about the Autobot's love lives - maybe it was his earlier musings, maybe it was because Bumblebee was so easy to talk to, maybe he'd suffered a temporary bout of insanity - but boy, did he regret it now.

"I..." His voice failed him. He swallowed and tried again. "I have?" he said, hoping the answer was 'no', hoping that Bumblebee was just messing with him.

Bumblebee only nodded, oblivious to his small friend's mounting horror. "Yeah, lots! Of course it's different than how you humans have sex. Not as much wiggling around and expelling fluids. But an orgasm is an orgasm, right?"

He grinned at Spike, as if trying to include him in on the joke. Spike could only stare.

"It's really the best way to resolve fights and show friendship, you know," Bumblebee continued on blithely, "There's no better apology than a good hard interfacing, I say. And after a tough battle or when everyone's in a bad mood, we all get together and have a, um... hey Prowl," Bumblebee called out as the black-and-white Autobot walked by on his rounds, "What's the human word for it?"

"Orgy," Prowl said shortly, optics focused on his datapad.

"Right," Bumblebee said. He smiled happily and Spike just knew it was an image that was going to haunt his dreams for decades to come. "We have an orgy!"

Spike felt like his legs were routed to the floor. Horrible images kept flashing through his mind. Piles of robots, like some demented scrap yard, all squirming together and moaning. He thought of little, chipper, friendly Bumblebee cozying up to big, fatherly Optimus Prime and felt his brain crack.

Bumblebee kept walking for several feet before realizing his companion had stopped. He turned around and frowned worriedly.

"Spike? Everything okay?" Something seemed to occur to him and he straightened up. "Oh no, Spike, don't worry! I consider us very good friends, even though we can't have sex. But if you want, we can talk to Ratchet about seeing if it's possible to-"

Spike screamed, pressed his hands against his ears, and ran frantically in the other direction.

THE REAL END