Chapter Twelve: In Love and War
It was strange, Rattrap mused as he listlessly soldered two wires of a half-assembled detonator box together. It felt like only yesterday he'd sat here at his workbench with a plethora of wires, circuit boards and empty shell cases spread around him as he almost desperately tried to distract himself from his thoughts with highly explosive material.
In a way, the potential of blowing himself and a good portion of the crew's private quarters up if he wasn't careful did prevent him from entertaining too many personal thoughts. But ironically that still couldn't seem to banish the basic, inescapable knowledge of what - or rather who - he was trying so hard not to think about.
No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, thoughts of the crew's ex-Predacon warrior seemed to constantly hover just on the edge of his neural functions. Like the faint odor of something he couldn't name or find the origin of, thoughts of Dinobot continued to dog him like a phantom stalker. Every time he shuttered his optics or let his processor drift, random flashes of the raptor would rise in the back of his processor. Whether images, sounds or half-remembered sensations, Rattrap could not seem to shake the raptor's invisible hold on him.
Even now as he tried to concentrate on soldering the correct wires of the detonator he was working on he could see Dinobot's red optics staring up at him in the back of his processor. That scintillating image of crimson lens boring into him as though sizing him up for the warrioress's next meal seemed to immediately conjure the memory of razor-sharp claws running sharp lines of near-pain up and down his back; followed quickly by the phantom memory of a dominating glossa slipping past his derma plates to hungrily lave the inside of his oral cavity. Snatches of soft, predatory growls that rumbled the chest of the one pressing up against him followed close behind that, which seemed to almost flawlessly bleed into the memory of-
"No," Rattrap hissed, verbally cutting off his own train of thought. He angrily threw the detonator box he'd been unsuccessfully trying to work on for the last three mega-cycles down onto the workbench. His soldering torch followed close behind which clattered noisily against the tabletop and several other pieces of delicate components.
Not that Rattrap cared much if anything broke. In fact, he wondered if breaking something might actually make him feel better. He was uncomfortably aware of his internal fans kicking on to help siphon off some of the extra heat mere memories of his and Dinobot's brief encounter had (once again!) managed to generate.
Rattrap gave a miserable groan of frustration as he leaned forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the worktable, and bent his head to cradle it in one servo while the other wearily massaged the pinch of metal between his optics.
Ya gotta getta hold'ov yerself, Rattrap, he silently begged his own treacherous subroutines. Ya can't keep doin' dis. It's not healthy…
It had been three days now since he'd run from med-bay like agents of the Pit were after him. Three incredibly long, frustrating, uncomfortable and embarrassing days spent replaying his one suicidal act of passion and Dinobot's unexpectedly eager response.
Under normal circumstances, Rattrap would have jumped at the opportunity for a good turn between the berth-sheets. Especially when it was with the 'bot he'd just spent so much time pursuing and (until very recently) secretly lusting after. But then again, the keywords were 'under normal circumstances.' Wanting a relationship of any kind (whether a simple one night stand, or a more intimate long-term one) with an ex-Predacon warrior who could eviscerate him as easily as she could peel an orange was definitely what Rattrap would not consider normal circumstances.
It was because of situations like this Rattrap wondered if he really didn't have some sort of death-wish written into his programming as Rhinox sometimes suggested. It would certainly explain a lot if he did. Because who else but a suicidal glitching idiot would want to chase after possibly the most dangerous femme to ever come online?
Yes, Dinobot had not immediately dismembered him for his temporary glitch of insanity. And, yes, she had in fact returned his kiss (and with such dominant, unbridled passion too!) But the fact remained that there was no way for Rattrap to know if Dinobot had actually been acting in her own mind at the time. When she'd come back online it had been obvious to Rattrap even then that the warrioress was not a hundred percent alright. Despite her coherent speech and snappy growls, he had not missed the subtle slur of syllables at the end of her sentences, or the sluggish flicker of her optics as she spoke, or the glaring fact that at no point during their brief talk did the raptor even attempt to sit up again after Rattrap forced her back down that one time.
Rattrap forego trying to massage away any more of the building tension behind his optics and let his hand flop down onto the table. Primus, he'd been so caught up in the moment he hadn't even stopped to think she might in some way still be under the influence of Tarantulas's neural inhibitor. He hadn't exactly been thinking with a full motherboard at the time given what had been going on, but still! He should have known better. When had Dinobot ever showed anything more than passing contempt towards him before that night? Why else would she have allowed his advances unless she were acting under the influence of a powerful, processor-altering drug? Hadn't he seen her after they'd rescued her from Megatron? Hadn't he been there when she'd almost attacked Rhinox and Airazor because she'd been too drugged to even recognize her own comrades?
Primus, he was a complete idiot. It was bad enough that he'd confessed his feelings for her the way he did. But to kiss her and think that her eager response was because she'd wanted him too? He was stupider than he ever thought… Not only had he gambled with his own life, but looking back on it all Rattrap couldn't feel anything but embarrassed for himself. To think Dinobot would actually want him… It was downright laughable. Completely and utterly ridiculous.
I deserve ta be slagged in da back of da cranium, the spy moaned in the back of his processor. Propping both elbows back on the table, Rattrap dropped his face down into his hands as if trying to somehow hide his shame from the rest of the world.
It might not have been so embarrassing if he thought Dinobot didn't actually remember the incident. But over the last few days whenever he'd had the misfortune of crossing paths with the taciturn warrioress in the control room he'd caught Dinobot casting him long, penetrating looks from across the room that, despite the raptor's usual impassive mask of stoicism, were edged with confusion and the subtle demand for explanations. Looks that hinted that Dinobot remembered at least something from that night and wanted answers.
It was only through skills honed from years of spying and escaping sticky situations that Rattrap managed to avoid Dinobot for as long as he had. If Dinobot actually remembered even a quarter of what happened that night Rattrap had no doubt he wouldn't survive an actual interrogation by the raptor.
And it was for this reason (along with an intense desire not to have to explain himself or his embarrassing act) that he'd taken to locking himself in his rooms when he wasn't on duty or needed elsewhere. Especially when there was the possibility of Dinobot being anywhere near the vicinity.
Rattrap knew he couldn't hide forever and that eventually he'd have to give some kind of half-formed excuse for what he did. But for now he wanted to avoid that moment for as long as possible. It had already been three days and Dinobot still had yet to hunt him down, so that was a good sign. Maybe the warrioress was just as eager as Rattrap to pretend nothing had happened. Maybe she did remember something from that night but had decided to dismiss it as mere hallucinations caused by Tarantulas's neural serum. That was possible. Maybe she really didn't remember anything from that night and had already forgotten about it. Maybe-
Four consecutive, thundering blows sounded from the other side of his quarters' door. The sound reverberated through the small room like the concussive echo of rapid fire grenades. His quarter's reinforced door literally rattled in its tracks under the angry blows.
Rattrap instantly froze in his seat, his fuel lines running cold.
Oh. Slag…
Only one 'bot could inspire such inexplicable terror through such a knock… Rattrap's optics unconsciously darted around the room for any means of escape. But, unfortunately, except for the door an angry ex-Predacon femme currently stood on the other side of, there were no other escape routes.
He was trapped.
Like a rat, the spy humorlessly finished the old axiom.
He briefly wondered if he should pretend he wasn't there, but eventually dismissed the idea. As much as he wanted to stall Dinobot's inevitable inquiry he knew it had always only been a matter of time before the ax eventually fell. Now that Dinobot had decided to seek him out, there would be no escaping the warrioress anymore. He might as well get it over with, whether that resulted in his early termination or otherwise. Maybe, if he was lucky and pleaded temporary insanity, he'd only have to spend a few days in the CR chamber…
Reluctantly getting to his pedes, Rattrap trudged towards the door like a mech being led to the deactivation chamber. He took a deep intake before reaching out to deactivate the locks. A small chirp sounded before the door slid aside to reveal Dinobot standing on the other side of the doorway, just as expected.
Rattrap forced down an involuntary shudder. Even faced with the probability of his own termination he couldn't help but admire the warrioress's proud stance as she stared down at him or the way her optics glowed a beautiful crimson in the corridor's dim lighting.
Primus, he had it bad…
"Um… hi ya, Choppa'face," he greeted, trying to hide his subtle but mounting panic behind a smooth mask of indifference. "Wha', ah, brings ya here?"
Dinobot's optics narrowed as she stared down at him as though trying to decipher what his reaction to her unexpected appearance really was. "There is something I wish to speak to you about, rodent," she growled in a strained voice of civility.
Rattrap's self-preservation programs were beginning to kick in. "Um, right now?" he asked "I mean, it's kinda late, don'cha think…" It was taking everything inside him not to shoot his hand out and reactivate the door's security systems.
"Yes," Dinobot replied, the harsh conviction in her voice informing Rattrap that she was not about to brook any argument from him - whether he liked it or not. "And I would like to do so in private and not in the middle of a public hallway."
Rattrap visibly hesitated for several nano-klicks before finally - reluctantly - nodding as he stepped aside to let the raptor duck through the doorway inside. The door made a loud whoosh as it slid close behind Dinobot, sealing Rattrap to his fate.
The spy took a long, steadying intake before slowly turning to face his unexpected guest. Dinobot stood in the very center of his quarters, her optics darting from side to side as she took in her new surroundings. Rattrap supposed such curiosity was only natural seeing as how neither Dinobot nor any of the Axalon's other crewmembers had ever been invited into his personal space before. Although, he could have done without seeing her fight back a small sneer of disgust as she glanced in the direction of his workbench and the piles of stripped insulator sheaths and discarded circuit boards littering the floor underneath it. Rattrap subconsciously shifted a little to his right to block Dinobot's view of a small mountain of data pads and unwashed energon cups that'd begun to accumulate in the one corner of his room amongst a pile of other random items.
"Your personal quarters are exactly as how I imagined they would be, vermin: an utter disregard to organization or cleanliness," she nonetheless sneered.
Rattrap refused to snap off a comment (even though three or four almost instantly sprang to the front of his processor.) He had no desire to rile Dinobot up anymore than she was no doubt going to be in a few brief klicks.
Instead, he decided to try and take control of the conversation while he still had a fighting chance of forestalling some of the warrioress's infamous wrath.
"Listen, Choppa'face… I know why yer here. About da other day in med-bay…"
"So you finally decide to speak to me about that," Dinobot harshly cut him off, her optics spearing him with a venomous glare. "I should say it's about time you gave an explanation for your actions. I do not appreciate being ignored and left to infer my own suppositions after such an encounter."
Rattrap faltered, all his rehearsed excuses vanishing from him as though they'd been wiped clean from his data banks by the warrioress's baleful gaze. "I wasn't ignorin' ya, Scalebelly," he weakly protested. "Really. I just wanted ta let ya recover a bit more before we had any kind'ov talk."
Dinobot shot him a withering look. "Do not try to shift blame onto me when I recovered enough to return to duty the very next day after I was brought back." She took a threatening step towards Rattrap. Even though half a dozen feet still separated them, Rattrap couldn't help but inwardly cower back from the femme's intimidating presence.
"Stop stalling, rodent," she snarled. "I want to know right now what was meant by that kiss."
Rattrap unconsciously glanced off to his side towards the door, wandering how far he'd actually make it if he tried to run for it. An impatient growl rumbled the warrioress's chest, forcing Rattrap to abandon any further hopes of escape.
"Woul'ja believe me if I said I'd gone temporarily insane?" he sheepishly teased, still half-hoping to make it out of this conversation alive.
A dangerous hiss from Dinobot immediately banished anymore attempts of humor on the spy's part. It obviously wasn't going to help him in any way…
"Look, I wasn't thinkin,' okay?" he snapped. "I don't know why I kissed ya like dat. It just kinda happened."
"That is not an explanation," Dinobot hissed, not willing to back down an inch.
"Well, dat's da best explanation I got!" Rattrap shot back, frustrated indignation finally rising in his voice despite the alarms of his self-preservation programs. "Like I said, I must've been temporarily glitching. Megatron nearly knocked my processor right off meh shoulders before we got'cha back ta base. And it's not like I'm readin' anythin' inta ya what'chu did after I kissed ya. I know ya wouldn't 'ov acted like dat if it hadn't been fer dat chemical Megs shot ya full of."
"Excuse me, what?" Dinobot cut him off. "What do you mean 'if it hadn't been for that chemical'? And reading into what exactly?"
Rattrap uncomfortably shifted his weight from pede to pede. "Ya know, dat drug Tarantulas made… I mean, I know it's not like ya would've ever kissed me back if ya hadn't been drugged to da vents at da time."
For a moment, Dinobot didn't seem to know how to react, and simply stared at the smaller Maximal. But then as if suddenly getting her bearings back, her facial plates warped into the most fearsome expression Rattrap swore he'd ever seen on her.
"How dare you," the warrioress snarled. "I am not some pathetic weakling that would have my processor scrambled so severely by such a thing that I would have no control over my own impulses as you seem to think."
Not thinking, not even taking into account the dangerous waters he was already treading, Rattrap murmured under his vents just loud enough for Dinobot to hear, "Could'a fooled me…"
What happened immediately next happened so fast that even afterwards Rattrap had trouble believing such speed was physically possible for a Cybertronian. Because in what seemed like less than a nano-klick Rattrap went from standing several feet away from Dinobot to suddenly being shoved up against the wall and held in place with his pedes dangling at least a foot above the ground. One set of claws were wrapped around his right wrist, pinning his hand beside his head against the wall while Dinobot's other hand gripped his left shoulder in a painfully tight hold, effectively immobilizing him in between the wall and the larger, angry raptor. The metallic clang of his body hitting the wall echoed through the room. Rattrap was so startled by the sudden change of positions that for a moment he could do nothing more than dumbly stare up at the fearsome warrioress.
"Mark my words well, vermin," Dinobot hissed in a dangerously low voice as she leaned forward to stare Rattrap directly in the optics, their nasal ridges barely inches apart. Rattrap shrank back from the hot puff of Dinobot's breath against his cheek. "Despite whatever state you found me in when I was rescued from the Darksyde, I was no longer under any influence of that drug when I came back online in med-bay. I was acting completely of my own free will."
"Really?" Rattrap squeaked in surprise. Despite his better judgment, he felt a surge of… tentative hope(?) flood his systems.
"Yes," Dinobot bit out between gritted dentals. "Now," she hissed, leaning even farther into Rattrap's personal space, "no more insults. No more jokes. No more stalling. I want the bare and honest truth from you for once. What did you mean by that kiss?"
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You might be wondering where the rest of the final chapter is. Because of ffnet's recent crackdown on story content and ratings, the rest of the chapter had to be moved to a different site. Please follow the link on my profile page to read. Thank you for reading and sorry for the inconvience.
Signing out
-LAXgirl