…Mwahahahaha.
To disguise the fact that I should be updating one of the multi-chapters((catches rotten tomato in one hand; throws it to a salamander without blinking)), here's a romantic skibble.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except your souls. Yeah.
Long Distance Relationship
Far from where any unwanted eyes could see him, the dark, purple figure stood alone, his horns silhouetted against the backdrop of planet Earth. His unwavering gaze was fixed upon the night sky, blazing optics searching, searching forever for his missing component.
Maybe it was nothing more than simple paranoia, after so many millennia of destruction, but he was certain the stars looked as though they were about to plunge, silent as sin, from the heavens, and devour him whole in glassy brilliance. He had the odd idea that, were he to be transported to within twenty sniglets of one, he would not find any of them roaring with infernal fire, but cold, deathly cold, and still as ice sculptures.
Gods, I miss him so much.
It quite astonished him, in fact, how deep the yearning went. He was so unused to wanting. The majority of things he had desired in his life had fallen into the palm of his hand with very little trouble. There were exceptions, of course. Little niggling things he had, as of yet, not been able to achieve, the memories of scratched at the interior of his soul like errant mice.
This yearning surpassed those previous desires by galaxies, a wall of fire compared to a candle. It strode with him all through the day, through every mission, every battle. It was always there, always the same and in a way that was good, because he didn't want to forget. He wanted to remember everything. Optics, wings, armor, every facet and inch of his distant companion.
And he stood, rooted and sick with longing, star-locked, awaiting either salvation or death.
"And now what's he doing?" Demolisher grumbled. As he stared discontentedly at the monitor, Cyclonus made a 'feh' noise, without bothering to activate his optics. Soon, Demolisher knew, he would start to snore. Frag it all.
"I mean, it's just weird," he complained, slightly louder in an effort to regain the dozing 'copter's attention. "He's just standing there."
"So what?" mumbled Cyclonus.
"So what's he doing? It doesn't make any sense!"
Snoring.
Demolisher sighed. Sometimes, it was hard to be the perceptive one.
Megatron himself had authorized the installation of the five small satellites currently orbiting the Earth's moon. With a crew so often prone to dashing off to shoot at moon rocks, experiment with explosives or getting hopelessly lost, it was useful to have a way of monitoring their activities from time to time. Admittedly, the satellites were riddled with blind spots, but at least they were something. Personally, Demolisher would have preferred two hundred of them, each equipped with long-range weaponry, but sometimes you had to make do.
Sudden sound from the monitor attracted him.
"Hey...hey, Cyc!"
"Urrgh…what?"
"Have a look! Just have a look at this!"
Muttering uncharitable words, the 'copter-bot stumbled over to inspect the screen. The next moment, his optics flashed.
"See what I mean?" Demolisher said with satisfaction.
Frowning, Cyclonus leaned closer. Slowly, he said, "Yeeeaaaah. He's…talking to someone."
"But…"
"But there's no one there. Leastways, no one I can see."
As Demolisher gave him a look of smug triumph, on the screen, the scratchy image of Sideways continued his monologue.
"Yes, yes. Of course. You know I miss you."
"Is it just me, or does he sound really…cheerful?"
Demolisher nodded in agreement. The motorcycle's voice was softened in a mixture of soothing and affection.
"Now, that's just silly. None of them are half as beautiful as you…no, not even Megatron, of course not…only you, that's right, always…"
Cyclonus yawned.
"Eh, so the guy wants to spend some time with his imaginary interface-buddy. Quit peeping, Demo," he chuckled, and wandered back to his comfy table.
"Aw, c'mon, Cyclonus!" the tank protested, not looking away from the lone figure of Sideways, still, it seemed, talking to himself. "Don't you think it's suspicious?"
"Get a life, Demolisher. G'night."
Sighing, the Decepticon took a final glance at the screen, shuddering at some of the murmured endearments still coming from the stereos.
"Freak", he muttered, turning it off and stalking away in search of entertainment.
Hands up, who guessed?
Okay, okay, I had too much fun with that. But I refuse to believe that Starscream was the only one who ever thought to check out just where Cides was running off to all the time. (If you haven't got it yet, read 'Stained Glass' first.((shameless plug, shameless plug!)) )
Unicronians need love too!