I love One Shots. I really do. I think I'd lost my ability to write short stories over 20 years ago, but sometimes, between the one and the other writing session, there always pops an idea up that just doesn't want to fit into the whole thing – so I decided to give it a try once more. And a try to … maybe write humour?
So, let's start with a little snippet about my favourite little OC and his unfortunately notable gift to absorb information like a dry sponge.
Unfortunately for Sunstreaker.
Un-betaed.
The Sparkling, the Golden Hellion and Daddy Megs
Starscream stared wordlessly, maybe even a little bit stunned down on his offspring who didn't seem to realise the abrupt change of mood of his carrier and who instead, full of merely controlled excitement as he so often was, rocked back and forth on his clawed pedes, full of barely suppressed tension. The innocent red beaming he was confronted with let him know that he actually wasn't aware of the dimension of what he just had said.
"Megs?" Finally the older Seeker found his voice, even if he himself found it a little bit pathetic, in a corner of his processor further away, that this was all he was able to utter.
Dawn went on in seesawing back and forth restlessly, in a rhythm which threatens to drive Starscream crazy now and then, but he rarely kept the sparkling from doing so – it reminded him too much of himself from seemingly endless number of years ago.
"Who in the Pits told you your creator is called like that?"
After all he succeeded at least to give his tone an impression of indignation now, and in a silly way he was even proud of it. However, this delicate nuance was unable to get through to Dawn who still visibly controlled himself in spite of all recognizable high spirits. He didn't want anything else than to finally know where his creator was whom he wanted to show so bad what Scavenger and he had constructed in the sparkling's garden.
His garden.
Starscream swiftly repressed this thought again. These were too many things at the same time he neither could deal with now nor did he want to. Not with these things of them all.
"Sunny!" Dawn blurted without hesitation, and if his anatomy had been able to do so the Second in Command of the Decepticons nearly had grinned all over his faceplates. Their sparkling didn't realise that he listened to his chattering only with half an audio receptor at best, how he had eavesdropped the golden Autobot and his red twin when these two had talked about…about…whatever they had talked about, and during this talking they had mentioned the name "Megs" which Dawn – anything else than someone's fool – logically associated to his creator, of course.
Now the situation appeared in a different light. Surely there would come the occasion to mention the fact that this Autobot whose most striking characteristic already in the past was to be as unbearable annoying as possible had done nothing less than mutilated his mate's name, only to chew it and then to spit it out again, as casual as inconspicuous in Megatron's presence and then to wait how the reaction turned out.
Not that Starscream couldn't exactly imagine how it would turn out. He still regretted he had not been present when Sunstreaker had called the Commander of the Decepticons "daddy", in good faith he would definitely not been heard by him – that had turned out as a mistake, much to the harm for his carefully polished finish, when said daddy had let him feel the effects of such a mistake in his very own emphatic way.
The damned twins had had caused the Elite Trine plenty of trouble in the past. Starscream didn't feel the tiniest bit of guilt when he still paid them back whatever and whenever he could. And if he was really good in doing anything then it was to use these opportunities whenever they presented themselves to him.
Dawn handed them to him on the frequently invoked silver platter.
He would take care that "Megs" learned of his nickname. He would take care he knew from whom Dawn had picked up this name.
And he sure as Pits was there, taking unselfishly snapshots for his Trine Mates, when the Lord High Protector shoved the golden frontliner unannounced through the next wall.