Shockwave's Admirer

a/n This is not Mamabot talking, alright. Just so we have the ground rules. This was an experiment in first person writing that... well took off like a rocket. It's thanks to my encouragers: Whatayamacholit, NightStalker13, Amethyst and a secret friend DoubleD any my husband... If you caught this in my One Shots I pulled it from that file and put it here in it's own file. It's blown that big to no longer being a one shot. So here we go, enjoy.

Do you remember your first crush? Do you remember what it felt like? Remember the blasting pulse from your spark where you thought it would bleed out your audio receptors? Like you thought you would be sick when he looked your way even if he wasn't really looking at you? The nervous fluttering in your gut? Do you remember the heat from your own face? And when you heard his voice, oh Primus you thought you would melt into a pool of goop right there no matter how far across the field he was? Remember all that?

Now, fast forward to the end of the war and establishing yourself in the new world order. That's where I am right now on my new route. Sitting in my delivery vehicle for Cyber-Ex, driver's window beside me is near level. I Oh Primus… you are evil… He's not really here, is he?!/I

The light changes, and the vehicle pulls off to the left while I go straight.

There is no way on this planet he is here in Kaon. No, he would be up in Iacon or New Crystal City even Tarn or Vos not down here in the ex-gladiator & mining community. No he would be up with the lead scientists doing incredible new amazing things with that high speed processor of his. Not down here with us grunts.

And now, my mind decides to roll back to those days… how cruel Primus can be sometimes.

**** flashback****

My brothers and I were raised in the slum areas of Kaon with out parents. They loved us, but life was harsh and cruel in this community. Medical care was not like it was in the elite or even mid-caste life. Death by infection or toxins was not uncommon. Easily we became orphans and clung together. I was the middle sparkling, smack dab between protective elder brother and caretaker for the younger. When word spread of the Decepticon uprising, it was no contest. We joined as soon as we found the right bot to lead us to the induction area. My sickly little brother died en route. It's alright, he never would have been accepted anyways: runt. He did not perish at the hands of some stuck up elitist's hand either. Girding emotions, we trudged on. Together.

As it was, I had to lie about my age, and took quite a bit to convince them that I was no sickly runt nor was I a minibot. Luckily, speed and grace was on my side. Even my brother was yelling at me when they dropped me outside the door and told me to get lost. I skirted the first hurdle's legs, slid under the passing big bot named Motormaster and cut myself to fourth in line. Barricade laughed so hard watching the frustration on the huge convoy-bot.

And then… I saw him. Ohhhh Primus…. My spark got stuck in my throat when I heard him smoothly order, "Order in the ranks! Your Lord is on deck!"

Everyone (inductees, new recruits, and soldiers) all snapped to straight and firm form. I did my best to look as professional as possible. Like I had every reason to be among them. But Primus … no one warned me that there would be handsome mechs like this among the ranks to crumple your thought process. And yet there was the most incredible mech I had ever seen in my life. Stole my logic circuit's the moment I laid optics on that bulking form of pure commanding mechliness. Oh crap, could I smell his power in that air too?

I loved my father dearly. He was strong, honorable, and protective. And not afraid to let us know he loved us. Those were attributes I hoped to find one day in a mate someday. No one warned me there were sexy mechs like this before me in existence. Virile. Bold. Exuding mechliness with every vent. Absolute sweetness to the optic. Oh. My. Word… what is that heating feeling in my lower gut?

Those broad shoulders that held upright and strong bearing all their duty and honor with pride and dignity. Sigil glistening in the harsh light. The trim waist and … oh Primus the hips, (I quickly check to see if I'm drooling), those powerfully strong thighs and each pede step is sure and assertive. A pounding into my spark chamber changing it's tempo. Not a drop of arrogance. Not a hint of wavering. Pure rich confidence.

Like the thump of a bass drum, each step hammered into everyone's helm to be strong. Straight and assertive gaze looked us all over in one swipe. The rapid processor quickly accessed us, categorized and placed us. He instantly knew all our strengths and weaknesses without even asking a question.

My spark was trembling. Would he find me worthy? Would he see me as anything useful to the cause? Or would he see right through me and all these stupid rising schoolbot thoughts? Oh Primus please don't let him see me mooning over his luscious form.

"My Lord," he turns to the taller silver mech beside him with the piercing vermillion optics. How could I have missed the larger more imposing figure?! Primus I am an idiot!

"I see some in here that will be useful in our next course of action."

The ebony palm uncurls his fingers flaying them to his Military Operations Commander, "The new recruits are your duty, Shockwave. Do not fail me."

The royal helm dips to his leader, while crossing the arm over the chest in homage, "Never, my Lord." The accented tone is not in cowardness. Oh no! That word would NEVER describe this mech. No, that reply is a only confirmation to the order he just received.

It was then, that I knew I was in deep trouble. I saw his back. His strong and powerful, chord coming from the shoulder blade to connect to the cannon where he had lost a hand. I could not pity him, for that would surely have been the death of me. No, just another sign of his strength and fortitude: perseverance in the mist of adversity.

Once our leader left with Motormaster, Barricade and a couple others; my saint and curse turned back to me. -I mean us! With a careful flick of his lilac finger, ten bots were quickly yanked from the line and gestured to the side doorway. I never saw them again. Six more were pointed to another door. Shots rang out instantly. My spine may have shuddered, but the rest of me managed to stay stock still.

The rest of us were broken up into three groups of twenty. These would be our training units. I was separated from my elder brother, but he only winked to me in passing through out the course of our training. I think it probably for the best as well. Time for us to be strong on our own.

If it hadn't been for some of the others paying attention during instructions and me being swift enough to follow them, I would have been dead. For every time he gave us instructions to a drill… my processor began to strip him bare and run those gauntlets with him buck naked. The voice, oh Primus the voice… Primus I must have been an idiot with a one track mind! In his presence I constantly had to remind myself why I was here. He was not a factor, only a hindrance.

Damn! those gauntlets were the worst. When he would run with us. Oh Lord Megatron! At times I tried to impress my commander and stay up with him. Other times I dragged just a few steps behind so I could watch him in full motion. Swift firm strides, muscled cable, slightest glide of movement without a hint of fatigue or injury while I was fighting and waning.

Those nights were the worst. Bunking with ten other femmes and feeling yourself internally writhing for the deadly drill leader's gaze of attention. Insane.

One night I heard them all talking about which mechs they had the hots for. A couple mentioned him, but quickly dismissed him for the lack of face or for the droid attributes. Or stoic stick-up-the-aft attitude. A few rumors flew around too. Several of the femmes had snuck off for private time with certain mechs. Not me! Some femmes and mechs were found executed or severally punished for being out of quarters unauthorized and frag'n each other senseless. Some were even in love…

"Rest is required for healthy soldiers," logically our drop dead gorgeous drill leader had reminded us. "Healthy soldiers will serve our cause. Medicine is in short supply, it is your duty to keep yourself healthy and well. See to it. Do not make me your sparkling sitter or parent! If you want that; there is the door! I'm sure the Autobots will take you in." Everyone knew, there was no option for defection. (Not that I would want to and loose this!) You were killed before you had a chance to take any information to the other side. Seen it. Understood it. Feared betraying this mech- I mean Lord Megatron. Crap.

***return***

Bringing my optics back to the road before me, I make my first few deliveries of the day. Still, I can't shake the jittering my spark took from thinking I saw bhim /b again and long dead memories of watching the our powerfully focused drill instructor in action.

He wasn't training us just to be a cruel hard aft… no, he cared in his own supervising way. We were not just machines in a cog of the Decepticon faction (like some commanders saw us; looking down their noses no different so many of the Iacon elitists had!) No! I read between those sharp firm orders and skill drills. It was to make us independent and vital soldiers. He wanted us to survive our first and second battles. He wanted us to be strong in spirit and body alike. That was what I most admired. That was exactly what I wanted to be. I wanted him to know he succeeded in training me to be strong and worthy to be within these ranks. I wanted him to know I would not fail.

Taking a deep vent, I pull my back up strong again and pick up one of my heaviest packages. Even in this job I am constantly proving myself. Thanks to my violet-instructor, it doesn't bother me. I don't give a damn when these boisterous mechs look at my small lithe frame and start sniggering. Fine, think you are all macho and better than I just because your body is larger and your overload equipment is external… {groan} I shift the second package to my other arm and head into the school, proud and confident in my abilities.

Just as I reach the door, someone from inside pushes it open for me. With the box on my shoulder blocking my view of the considerate bot, I just announce my gratitude.

"You're welcome," comes back as they brush past me in their exit. Oh now I know I'm stuck in the past. I could have sworn I heard that rare toned accent of my elicit dreams. It is not common here in Kaon. Tarn, maybe, but not here. Shaking my head, I continue towards to the secretary and get the heavy packages signed for.

Heading back to my delivery vehicle, I could swear I just saw that rare helm of vibrant violet with snow white perky antenna disappear into that same vehicle at the intersection. Again? Shaking my head again, I know I'm going to need a stiff drink when I get home. Hopefully it isn't PTS trying to ebb it's way into my life this way. Primus wouldn't be THAT cruel, would he?

Try as I might, I just can shake the flashbacks as I continue down to my next stop. Think Tank of scientists, great… nothing like another vivid memory to mess with me:

****flash****

iOn a rare change aboard Nemesis, I was ordered to deliver several crates to the lab sector. Pushing the heavy cart, I ping the door controls.

"Yes?"

Oh crap, my drill instructor is here? He asks again. Choking, I find my voice, "Supplies, Sir. I was ordered to bring these crates up."

The door opens and I enter. His optic is actually surprised to see me. Well, maybe a light and scrawny thing like me pushing this cart, not me per-say. He starts to step away from the planning table when Starscream snaps at me, "Over there, in the corner and begone, femme."

Turning my gaze away from the table of scientists and silently I do as I am told. The four of them are deep in conversation to the ideas for a new pulse weapon for some of our bunkers. I knew enough to keep my mouth shut. I do steel a couple glances to the table and see my drill instructor quite relaxed hunkered over the table pointing a describing flaws or improvements to the plan. He looks so at home talking about science. I warms me to see him happy. Now I understand a little better:

Commanding the trainees is his duty and he will do it to his fullest capacity. But science is where his spark lies. This is what brings his antenna to a full state of rest and relaxation to his heavy shoulders even if it is with that arrogant SOB of and SIC. Science makes my spark-flame happy. I smile for his happiness. He lift his helm as I head out. I am graces with a curious nod of gratitude. I silently salute him and leave.

It was a few solar cycles later that I passed him in the hall with her . Jealous does not even scratch the surface of what I was feeling. But what can I say? He looks so happy leaning on her and laughing together. (Obviously they are both a little tipsy.) I wish I was the one who could make him laugh like that. I sigh in defeat once again remembering, he is a Commander.. Off limits… My spark feels like it just got crushed beneath both sets of passing pedes. Enlisted grunt…, I drag myself away from the sight of that retreating strong form with his arm lightly around another.

Always stoic, firm, focus driven mech. In charge of his emotions keeping them at bay from everyone. No need for them to play a part in duty. I try to follow that example, because he is right. It is our duty to serve and win not to feel while we fight. My feelings have no right to be here. I am a soldier! I am here to serve! And I will! Begone elicit fantasies!

But what would I give for just one moment in time to make him release his emotions on me? One moment where I can be the one to make those silky soft antenna fall. One moment in time and make that optic dim in delightful sublime towards me. One second to make that accent slip to a seductive whisper in my ….

***return***

Screeching tires and then the bbam /b of the crashing vehicles and a bunch of smoke and crying & screaming. For me, nothing. Not a scratch on me or my truck! But I was still stuck, boxed in by destruction. I grab the comm and swiftly text in that I'm stranded on the main route surrounded by idiots and carnage. My next deliveries will be late; start the claims paperwork now. Great, another memory while I wait for the wreckers to clear the road. {snort} Wreckers!

****flash****

Damned Autobot Wreckers! Primus we were advancing and they just had to think they were better than us! Well frag that!

After getting through training, I was given my duty assignment: Runner. Light on my pede, lithe enough to slip through tight spots, graceful enough not to be clumsy, and most of all (unbeknownst to them all!) I wanted my instructor to see another of his students come home safe. I did not want him to feel all his training had been in vain.

So here I am dashing from one bunker or foxhole to the next running resupplies. Those damned Wreckers figured out I was their next target. Already they had taken out my partner. But like Pit were they going to get me! My team needed me and I was their safety line. I had to bring them home safe too, in my own way. Commander had made it clear, no one was insignificant. We all mattered, we all counted. That includes ME! I pick up the pace!

Swallowing the dirt clod blown into my mouth, I bolted to my next point just to have name bellowed across the battlefield and then that bk-twong b/ resonating sound of my savior's seismic cannon. The pulse blast crackled across my shoulders and hit the embankment just past me. It had been so long since I'd heard the sound that now the thunderous second volley was a gong's crack rumbling a rippling through the air assaulting my audio receptors. Steeling a glance, my spark was blasted by the sight of his solid magnificent form turned magenta in the firefight. Standing angry and violent with his cannon leveled in my direction but I knew, was aiming behind me. Another blast from my savior and I continued to move towards my duty station.

His cannon made it's hit. Unfortunately, it also brought the victim my direction with his reinforcements right behind. I kept running. They shot the ground out from in front of me. They knew I was the bane of this fight! They new if I got my next unit resupplied, they were going down. They new I was the cog in the supply chain they HAD to stop. With everything riding on me, I knew I could not stop. I could not fail. How could I with that deep dark sunset colored mech covering my back? I ran for all I was worth. Each stride was bringing me closer and closer to my comrades. I. Would. Not. Fail…. HIM!

It happened too fast. The ground before me exploded. The supplies on my back flew over my head. Autobot pedes were thundering down upon me followed by deadly Decepticon ones. I would not let them get their dirty claws on Decepticon property! LIKE PIT! The seismic thunder ripped through the air once more a whole lot closer. To my shock, it pushed my cache aside. Why would he-!

BOOOOOMB crackling sizzling noise of incendiary missiles and then I was crushed to the ground. I couldn't move. Literally, I was being pushed deeper into the softening ground. Stunned, it took me a moment to figure out what was on top of me.

It groaned a deep mechly moan of disgust mixed with indescribable pain. But it would not detour him from his task either. As much as I could, I could see my resupplies were still in one piece and that stinking Wrecker was headed towards them with a rather smug look on his face.

The weight on my back growled, "Apologies," I knew it was directed towards me not the enemy in the rising cannon's sights. I managed to get my hand over one audio receptor before that seismic-gong went off again right next to my helm. How could he not be deaf by now? And damn! now I know what those femme commanders were saying about a sexy weapon. Crap, the resonance from that thing on laying shoulders and neck with his warm body -make that battle sweaty hot chassis- squashing me into the ground was enough to make this young thing have her first rippling overload. Right here on the battle field with her Commander sacrificing his body as her shield. This is ridiculously INSANE!

A dead Wrecker is blow as wide as ampho under a bulldozer, obliterating my resupplies with it.

***return***

Law enforcement sirens bring me around and motion me to move. Back on the move, the road had been cleared enough to get the rest of us through. To my sorrow, I can see a fellow delivery driver (different company but still a delivery grunt like me) in the heart of the carnage. I give him a wave feeling a bit sorry for him, but I keep moving as he lifts a hand back with a shared smile of disgust. His cache is a smoldering wreckage of scrap.

Six stops later and I can stop for lunch. The garden outside the hospital has always been calming to me. Luckily, this new route brings me past it just like my last one did.

But some how, this time, I just can NOT shake these flash back images.

Chewing on a stale biscuit and a flat drink, my elicit memory just will NOT let this go. I mean, come on the war has been over for how long and now all this comes flooding back? I've dated since the war, but no I haven't bonded. And no it's not because I've pined away for him. Good grief, I'm not THAT pathetic. Please, give me some credit as a femme Deception soldier.

Turning to the door I begin to wonder if I should have a CAT Scan just to see if there's a golden optic and snow white antenna stuck in there and I should have them surgically removed. And my biscuit rolls out of my hand to said antenna coming into view.

Oh Primus, you are a horrid celestial being. Nooooo, not now. That strong back, those pert antenna, those proud shoulders held firm and straight, the softest roll of the hips. That commanding yet respectful stride as he passes others. Oh, my Primus... that mech... he can't be real. Here?!

Closing off my optics, I drop my face into my palms. I can see it all over again. I can still taste the acidic smoke in the air, the ringing in my audio, the crushing sexy weight against my hips, my back... oh Primus I'm going to be sick...

****flashback****

i I was a jumble of emotions. What could I say? He just saved my life. On top of that, my dignity. He did not allow our supplies to fall into enemy hands and took out an enemy in the process.

"I'm sorry...," my muffled apology tries not to sound like a wimpy femme cry, "Commander."

A short grunted reply is all I get, "Supplies expendable; reliable soldiers not so much." Ever the logical one, I could only nod. He tries to rise by pushing his remaining hand to the ground beside my face, but it shakes violently and I am crushed back down again. "Apologies," his dignity moans. And then he hisses in fury. Apparently he has accessed the problem and found it.

I try to ease his disgust, "It's my fault, Sir. I should have been at my post sooner."

He ceases his struggle and I think for the first time, acknowledges me as an individual. "Shh. No time for that now. Oh... fuuuck..." His helm lifts and then goes limp against my own. The whole body looses it's tension. Like a great limp doll across my frame.

"Sir?" I nudge him but I all I get back is a grunt. Then I try the illegal, "Shockwave?"

Nothing. So I try one more thing. His face is right there in the back of my neck. I can feel that hypersensitive sensor right were a lover would nudge in a tender moment. I'm in utter agony here. I have him right where I always wanted him, but now I could be losing him!

Please of Primus, please don't let him die because of me. I reach one hand to touch my comm, "Medic! Commander down! I say again, Commander Shockwave is down! You must hurry!"

I hear my beloved's whisper as a static reply comes across as well, "Phosphorous charges…"

"What's your position?"

Phosphorous charges? My position?! Oh Primus, I know what that sound is now! It isn't static, it's charges burning a hole through his armor into his protoform. And there they will lie until the medic tries to pull them out. Once they hit the oxygen fresh room, everyone will be dead: victim, medical team, bunker. Oh this is not good. And all my fault….

Quickly I send my location to the duty officer. Then to my savior, "I'm sorry, sir…," I commit the unpardonable sin, I take his hand pulling it to my lips and kiss it, and clutch it tight. I can taste this moment in time. I haven't a prayer of getting out from under his great incapacitated form, and nor do I want to. I would rather die here with him, than to know he died and I lived. I tuck the hand protectively to my form and pray harder again.

He moans trying to shift in agony at the mini-charges burying further in. Reaching my other hand back to his helm, I touch it. I meant to touch a cheek, but what I found was a firm but silky soft antenna, limp and weak. I carefully wrap my thin fingers around the highly sensitive appendage and caress. He mewls out a new tone, one I will never forget… my stolen sweet gift of time. Afraid, I stop. He whimpers. Oh… my…. Starting again, he relaxes even further so I have a limp blanket of a never-to-be-lover across my back. I continue to stoke my comfort and support to him. Clutching his hand in one of mine next to my lips, and soothing his helm with the other, I try to keep him alive until help arrives. Only then do I retreat my hands to a respectable position.

Both of us are rushed to the med bay together once they listen to what I said about the phosphorous charges. Now the armory sergeant and the medical officer are in argument as to what to do. Luckily one of the peon half-droid nurses looks at me while crimping off the leaks of my nearly blown off leg with a tourniquet.

He grabs my shoulders and points, "That is a vacuum chamber. We can suck out all the oxygen and that will stave off the reaction of the charges. But, we still have to get them out of his body. I can't fit in there. You can."

My jaw drops when I look at the size of that chamber. It's going to be tight and close meant only for one sleeping standard bot. He gives me no choice. While I stare, he gathers tools and an air tight box. Then he shoves the box into my hands picks me up. "Here." Quickly he gives me instructions while carrying me over to the Military Operations Commander's prone form smoldering form.

He plunks me down onto the injured mech's berth. Shooting another inhibitor into the strong warrior's neck, he grabs my chin and nails me with his gaze, "You be as strong as him. And you do not waiver! You do not fold! You do not give into fear or inadequacy. Do you hear me?" I gape. "His life is in your hands. Now go."

In other words, this lowly med-droid gave this fellow subordinate an order to save one of his own. I nod and he wheels the berth to the chamber. Swiftly he slices the cable to Shockwave's cannon and removes the seismic weapon. There I see the smooth amputate limb hang off the edge. My head is shoved against the burning back and before I can hear the rest of the protests of the rest of the staff, the chamber door hisses shut sealing me in with my crush.

Now past the ring of the circular door frame, I can rise up to a sitting position. First I get myself situated. Settling astride his hips, I find them narrower than I anticipated. He grunts but nothing more. I can see where a couple charges have bored into the base of his neck, probably what knocked up out on the field. Curling back, I settle the box behind me between his solid thighs. He winces, but I have no time. I hear the tap on the door letting me know I can proceed to removing the charges: oxygen being cleared.

Twisting back, I ignore the throbbing in my own limb sure to be amputate. The strong and punctured back before me now has my full focus. I find the catches, but the armor will not fully release. There, I can see it. Charges have burned and melted piece of the catches. Turning back to my tools, I see I have snips and pliers.

"Forgive me commander," I begin to cut into the reinforced armor. Luckily I'm used to carrying heavy packages. With two hands I push and curl the armor back. It seems to take forever, but finally, I have enough room to work.

At least twelve of these wicked aft mini but deadly charges have burned completely through the outer armor and are now bored into his protoform. Some even beneath the skin. I have to be sure to get them all. One left in charge could still kill or very seriously maim the mech beneath me. Like hell will I let that happen!

Using the pliers, I very carefully pull out a charge and drop them into the box behind me. The mech beneath me doesn't move, thanks the inhibitor. My hands splay and slowly move over his pristine form. He has never been injured before. His prefect body has been forever marred for saving my life. I find another and pull it loose, swiping a tear with my wrist.

"Hang in there, you can do this," I hear the soothing voice of the droid-mech outside through the com. Nodding I dive back into my task, pushing past my emotional and physical pain.

I must have been in there for an hour running my hands over and over his bleeding back being ever so careful to make sure I get everyone. Over and over again, I run my hands along his strong frame smooth. It feels so good to have his warm frame beneath me. I can pay him back for all he has done to train me to live and protect myself.

Sealing the box, I can feel myself beginning to waiver from my own loss of energon. If I left one in, I do not want all the others in this box going off. Once more, I graze his still form with my small palms, this time for me. His helm moves and for a moment, I swore I could see a glimmer of pleasure on his face. I steel a pleasure of my own. I lean over his solid form allowing my own cheek to rest between those precious shoulder blades. Curling my hand around his lower antenna, I soothe.

"I'm here for you, Shockwave…. Forever… I shall not ever fail you. I will never let you go."

As it is my turn to fall draped over his back in my weakness, my remaining hand reaches up to curl around the ball of his bare shoulder. Parting my lips, I steal a taste of his battered skin. Sweeter than I ever expected. Tears slip, a kiss I shall never have, a touch I will never have again, and the warmth of his fevered body steams mine as I fall deeper into this abyss. The pulse of his strong spark I can feel thrumbing through his back against my own. I try to pulse mine back in healing him.

A soft moan sighs out of his hardened body now completely melted into the gurney. His hand comes up and covers mine on his helm. My tears rush forth to mix with the sweat and blood staining his torn back.

"Shhh…" he whispers as I fade deeper into my own injuries and tears…. "Shh, I have you now…"

*******deepness******

There is he is, hot broad back beneath my palms all armor removed. Soothing over the healed over scars from those damned phosphorous flares that tried to take us all out. He lets out a slow moan as I push a little harder into that one area around the cable port. Yes, I had already cast that aside along with the cannon. I don't care about the other half of the limb that was lost in he line of duty. No, just adds to his sex appeal: honor and duty.

I press on, "Yes..." he hisses. I press a little lower. "Oh Primus yes, just a little lower," the thick accent roles out. Now see when you have someone with nice broad shoulders with a strong back (and out of the armor, I must say) in need of a back massage, the best position is to be sitting is on the small of their back with their nice firm aft supporting yours. This cup of back is just the perfect saddle for a femme of my stature. I had never done this on one so desirable, but like Pit was I going to lose this chance.

Now when sitting on the small of one's back, do you really want hard unforgiving armor? The thin sheet was not going to hide my internal problem much loner. Heated desire is welling up as my fingers knead and I roll my force into the forbidden form below me. Sliding my palms up the spine, over the shoulder plains, down the bicep & back up, down the side-chest cage, down to the trim waist… Slide, knead, roll. *moan* Press, slide, knead, roll *moan* Roll press, hips roll, fingers grip, roll grind… Oh shit… I moan this time and … here I go over that edge…

He chuckles. Crap, he knows. (well how could he NOT!) Craning his helm just a touch over the soft round of his shoulder, I could swear he is smirking at me, "How long?"

I groan trying to hide my heating face by turning away. It does no good. Instead, he continues the turn. The shoulder rolls back. The left half-arm comes over to round my waist keeping me in position as he continues the rotation yanking the fabric barrier away in the process.

Oh Primus, I'm not really sitting on... ooohhh shit. … I am. {Elicit moan femme…}

His chuckle this time is more deep throated as he recognizes the reaction my core is having to caressing his strong and commanding back. He just smiles as the bastard grinds his powerful hips in their own roll with just a hint of an arrogant glint.

Once again I try to turn away before I make a bigger fool of myself. Planting my hands on his heated and strong chest I try to push off and away. The strong half arm, won't let me retreat, and the lilac hand grasps my chin bringing our faces even closer together. With an ever so soft but yet commanding tone and seductive accent, "Tell me. How long?" {roll, roll}

I try to close my optics and ignore the question, but I can't. Not when that velvet soft antenna comes up to graze my arm and then nuzzles the smug face into my neck again. I can't think when I can feel his words against my throat and his hip continue their pulsing roll. The harmonic English tone, "Tell me, little femme, how long have you yearned for me to take you?" Deadly slow roll.

"I can't tell you that," is weak and whispered backtalk, but did he have to slip that palm down and cup me, grazing a thumb across the darkened nub. Nuzzling closer, I give in, "The first moment... you walked in.." No, I won't let this change what he means to me. Never...

Nuzzling lower and tighter, I begin to lose my breath as his hips rotate and thump in time with his grazes to my chest. "I was constantly thinking about you... but it would get me killed... If I ahhh!" He chuckles to his intrusion. "I can't constantly think about you. You are off limits."

"Then I wasn't here. I didn't make you feel this low... I didn't catch you looking at the floor." He growls grinding harder, and again deeper... "How are you going to get through this?"

"I won't." My body sags back against the limb holding me up in his firm lap. The palm scoops up and loops mine around his neck. My other hand comes up and grasps his antenna.

I wasn't expecting the howl. It was not a howl of pain, far from it. No this howl was pure pleasure that I had no idea the controlled and logical mech could release. Oh that payback did feel wonderful for what he was doing to me internally. This time, I reached out and stroked them both ever so slowly from helm to tip like I had on the battlefield. Only this time, in harmony with his own pulsing strokes to my body.

The mighty commander shivers and shudders beneath me burring his face into my chest. Now it was my turn to howl and grip onto both the forward slanted antenna.

My leaning back, combined with pulling him forward sends us both off the berth and to the floor. Instead of causing a retreat, it just furthers the connection. And then…

Using the half arm under my waist, lifts my hips nearly rolling me to stand on my shoulders and neck. The firm palm plants itself beside my resting helm, curling him over me. And then, the tempo increases: hard. I had no idea there were nodes in there that triggered sounds like that from me. Apparently he did by his rather proud grunt of success, and repeated strikes to the target.

Hot, hard, choked vents are soon coming from me. And he commands, "Yes, little femme, overload for me. You are mine and you .. will… succumb to my body…"

Screaming as the force and tempo increases, I thrash. It only cause him to snarl and grasps me tighter. "I-can't-breathe!" I beg.

"Then overload and you will." He carefully explains, not retreating down for one moment.

"You will be gone, as soon as I do…" stupidly a tears slips down my face.

Shock wavers across him and he stops. I roll my head away in shame. Carefully the arm comes out from my back, allowing me to slide flat to the floor. Remaining connected, adjusts himself to be covering, but not crushing me. "Look at me," the order is so soft. I refuse. He forces me to look into his soft single golden optic. With a very tender lit, orders again, "Look at me."

I do. Truth looks back. I can have this one stolen moment in time. But we can never be anything else. Leaning in, he gives me the most wonderful sweet kiss possible driving away my shame or any other logical thought. His hips begin the dance again, this time slower, gentle. Making this stolen moment last forever.

"Shhh, I will make you overload in a shower of sparks you did not know even existed. My gift to you."

I cry out, arching against him causing to birth those promised sparks with his personal seismic cannon. The nebula down below fires an overload to my aching spark sending it reaching for his. No, he will not give me his. (I didn't expect him to) But he does let his delicate and scientific finger tips play in mine while his body makes mine continue sing for his. Another volley of sparks wrap around his cannon tripping it's trigger.

He roared making every wall vibrate. I was left crying out his name for all the universe to hear.

*******out of the depths******

"SHOCKWAVE!" It's my voice but I don't recognize the husky and groggy tone to it.

A light palm falls to my shoulder, "Hey, its alright." My droid-mech nurse guardian consoles.

Quickly I online my optics and look around. Medbay. Still looks like I remember it. Messy, dying and healing bots all over the place. Haggard and harried medical drones and bots around.

The yellow one pats me again, "It's alright, you're safe now."

Yeah, try saying that laying in a pool of your own forbidden fluid. My body is jittery and trembling from the after effects of a non existent passionate moment with a forbidden lover. Shaky, "How is he?" my tight throat ebbs out.

My nurse steps aside, and I am able to see the obviously injured and should be resting mech, pushing another medic's palm aside. Megatron stands barring the door way, arms crossed. Carefully, silently our leader is looking to both the medic and his pale purple commander draped only in a soft white fabric med-gown. Who's word should he believe about his most trusted soldier's health?

I swallow hard afraid I am going to be sick. My guts are still spazaming from the hallucination. It does not help to see my obsession looking somewhat weak and his near naked form draped seductively over there. Has he any idea how deadly his form is right now? Has he any idea that he could blow a thousand femme (and some mech's) processors if he just strode out onto the field in just that fabric gown. "You can look but not touch." I turn and hurl into the bedpan at my side. I can't feel this way. I've been trying so hard to be a soldier not some stupid aft femme running on stupid hot flashes.

And then, the vermillion optics turn to me and sneers. I shudder and try to curl into a ball but the brace on my leg just won't allow me to retreat from the intimidating piercing optics. The yellow palm rest on mine trying to support me silently.

"My Lord," my savior gathers his leader's attention back, "I may not currently be able to fight, but I am able to lead and help you plan. Light duty, if you may until my armor is repaired."

The bristling leader curtly nods, without a second glance to me and turns to leave. My savior turns and just as he is about to approach bshe/b latches onto his half-arm to support and escort him away. He does look over to me once more and gives me a soft nod. Reassurance that I served the Decepticons well. And then he was gone. The last I ever saw of him. /i

***return***

That's right, my first overload was a hallucination. That's right, the med staff heard me cry out for a Commander so off limits… how pathetic. Right after that, I was on the first wave of ships to an asteroid to mine Energon for the faction. I never saw him again.

I figured him to either be dead by shielding our glorious leader, (or her) or from a great hand to hand fight. I prayed for him to be happily studying his science in one of the prestigious cities today. Maybe even as a professor.

Turning into my next stop, I gape. Space Bridge manufacturing here in Kaon? Really? Well that is new to me! Anyway, a deliver is a delivery. I shrug and head on with my duties.

I enter and head up to the assigned floor. There at the curved desk of the secretaries on the top floor, I bring my data pad to be signed. She looks over the parcels.

Out of the corner of my optic I see my hallucination slide into my sights. Glancing my direction, his pede hesitates. Did he recognize me? Does he know me? Does he-

ding the elevator makes itself known. But I keep my optics locked on the proud, dignified Commander of Respect and Honor walking towards me. Warrior to be contended with! My protector and savior! It really is him coming towards me?! And then to my utmost shock, his proud regally form lowers himself to one knee, spreading his arms wide with a beamful pride. My jaw drops. He only kneels before Lord Megatron. So who would bring him to his knees now?

"Mummmyyy!" a little sliver streak zips past me and launches himself into those strong protective gift wrapping arms.

Mummy? My savior is a ….

The floor rushes up to greet me and my world crumbles into crushing blackness.