Megatron had thought that of all the terrible things to likely spawn out of the current Autobot- Decepticon entente at least the end of the war meant he would never have to sit in the same room as his prickly unhinged Air Commander ever again.
The bright glimmer of pristine white wings across the New-Iacon council chamber told him otherwise.
He shifted in his seat, crossing one leg to lie atop the other as he cast a scowl in Prime's direction, the only mech with the authority to have granted Starscream access to what was supposed to have been a classified and highly sensitive meeting to turn their haphazard entente into a full-fledged faction-wide truce. It was delicate diplomatic work, and Starscream was as skilled at diplomacy as an Insecticon was at Spark Chamber Recalibration.
You wanted neither one anywhere near the other.
Prime eventually caught his gaze and returned his scowl with a knowing look, then turned his back to address one of his lieutenants -because of course the oncoming Starscream-induced slag-storm was only going to work in his and his faction's favour during the final negotiations.
Starscream meanwhile, was quickly making his way through the gathering, heading straight for the empty seat beside his soon-to-be-former leader.
Megatron flung an arm out to his side, blindly searching for a mech -any mech- to yank into the vacant seat beside him before Starscream could claim it. From the indignant blare of surprised monotone the unfortunate victim turned out to be Soundwave, who didn't so much get to sit in the chair as fall over it, just as Starscream arrived at Megatron's side.
"Mooched yourself an invitation, did you?" Megatron turned in his seat to face the seeker, re-composing himself to emit a general air of superiority, ignoring the loud clatter of Soundwave trying to clamber upright.
"As your Second In Command, you should have extended me an invitation." Starscream folded his arms across his chest, leaning back on his heels to look down his nose at him. "But not to worry, you're forgiven. At your age it's a miracle you remembered to turn up yourself."
Before Megatron could reply with something equally as scathing he was interrupted by the scraping of chairs across the floor as the Autobots on the opposite side of the chamber began to take their seats. Prime took the place directly across from Megatron. His Second, Prowl, taking the seat on his right.
"Shall we begin?" Prime's voice reverberated loudly, bouncing against the chamber's high ceiling. He spread his arms wide, gesturing for the remainder of the room to sit.
"Of course." Megatron purred back, offering back a stunted expression that barely passed for a smile. He tilted his helm towards Starscream, hissing through his denta so no one else could hear, "Sit down," nodding at the vacant seats at the very end of the table, as far away as he could get the seeker.
Starscream made a little noise that indicated he would do as he was told, but probably wasn't happy about it, and Megatron thought, at least for now, that he could focus on setting the tone of the meeting before Prime could start spouting out-dated rhetoric.
Then, instead of retreating to the other end of the table Starscream moved to stand behind Soundwave. He grasped the back of the Third-in-Command's seat and very deliberately tipped him out of it. Soundwave fell to the floor with a loud clang for the second time in less than five minutes. Right in front of the entire Autobot delegation.
Starscream swivelled the empty chair around and took a seat, all dignity and grace as he scooted himself closer to the table, unsubspacing what looked like twelve datapads and dropping them with a slap to the table.
"Now," he said, addressing the room at large since he already had everyone's attention. "I've been through the proposals, and I have a few amendments..."
Prime was staring, dumbstruck. Along the table, Jazz was mouthing ("a few?!'') to Ironhide, bright optics flicking warily between his comrade and the stack of datapads as if Starscream was going to begin frisbeeing them across the table like shurikens.
Megatron slumped back in his seat lazily, cheek propped against his fist, wondering how likely Prime would be to call off the truce if he were to throttle his own Air Commander atop the negotiation table.
Though perhaps after a few hours of having to listen to Starscream speak the Autobots would applaud him for it.
Most of the former High Command, both Autobot and Decepticon, had chosen to reside in secure high-rise apartments closer to the senatorial district, in the heart of New-Iacon. The city was still unstable, Prime had informed Megatron gravely, as if he didn't read his own intelligence reports and had to be reminded of these things.
Unused to living in the privilege of what was essentially an upper-class gated community -and the idea of having Optimus Prime as a neighbour- Megatron had instead opted for a less conventional apartment on the outskirts of the city, closer to industrial developments, where he could watch transport shuttles pass by his window from his berth every morning, engines noisy and close enough to rattle the glass, packed full with more and more Cybertronians returning home for a new life.
For the first time in over a millennia he could lounge in his berth till daybreak turned to noon and do nothing but listen to the soothing blares and rumbles of the chaotic civilisation outside. A repetitive and constant soundtrack, but at least it was better than-
"Megatron!"
Megatron blinked his optics into focus as he swore he just heard a muffled but shrill voice squawking his designation. Either he was hallucinating, or Starscream had broken into his apartment.
He knew for sure it was the latter when the door to his berthroom slipped open and in walked the obnoxiously inconsiderate fiend himself.
"Starscream!" He barked, shooting off the berth and to his pedes before the seeker's thrusters had even crossed the threshold. "What in Primus's name are you doing?!"
"Looking for you," Starscream replied easily, as if there was nothing odd about his unannounced presence in his former-Commander's private domicile. His optics tracked across the room, taking in the humble living arrangements. "You live here?"
"How did you get in?" Megatron snarled, shoulders hunched defensively. There was another reason he had chosen a home so far from his former comrades. "How did you find this place?"
Starscream finally met his gaze with a condescending look, "Prime's office."
"What?" Megatron was surprised enough to lose grip on his anger for a moment. "Why would anyone willingly give you information about anything?!"
"No one gave me anything," Starscream shifted his weight to one leg, folding his arms across his cockpit. "If Prime wants to keep confidential information confidential, he should install better security systems."
"You have access to the Autobot's security systems?" A cunning thought began to form in Megatron's processor. With that sort of leverage in the negotiations he could-
"Never mind that now," Starscream waving a servo in his face interrupted his lightbulb moment, "I came to drag you out of your ...pit, for the treaty signing."
"That's not for hours yet," Megatron grumbled, resisting the urge to look back at his welcoming berth beside the windows.
"I know." Starscream moved over the threshold out of Megatron's berthroom, "We can discuss strategy over re-fuelling."
Megatron's processor didn't make sense of the situation until Starscream looked back with a put upon expression, "Are you coming? We're meeting someone."
Megatron supposed he was coming. He followed the seeker out of the apartment, rubbing a servo across his face, feeling no small sense of déjà vu. And to think, he'd been naive enough to believe ending the war would have rid him of Starscream.
Starscream had a private transport waiting outside the apartment. It blocked an entire traffic lane where it hovered, waiting. Megatron glared at Starscream, but the seeker seemed as unbothered by his dirty looks as he was the blaring horns of the travellers he was inconveniencing.
Inside was as ridiculously gaudy as Starscream's personality. Plush, spacious seating, blacked out windows, entertainment systems, and worst of all... a disco ball. Starscream must have had to blackmail and threaten quite a collection of politicians to have had this put together. Megatron ignored the luxuries and remained standing -or rather looming- over the seeker sprawled across his own seat, intently reading a data-news file.
They were taken to the senatorial distract. It's clear paths and pristine towers reminded Megatron of the Iacon of old, and something unpleasant settled in his tanks.
Starscream dragged him into the 'nearest' fuelling establishment. It was a far stretch from what Megatron was used to- had been used to, before the war. As a miner, as a gladiator, as a rebel insurgent -the waiting staff would have taken one look at him and called the local law enforcement.
At the sight of Starscream in all his sneering, arrogant glory, the over-polished hostess at the door tripped over herself securing them a table in their private dining room.
Now, sat across an extravagantly large table from Starscream, a large and rather threatening looking crystal chandelier hanging over his helm, and a cube of some concoction he couldn't pronounce that looked more like artwork than it did fuel anyway, Megatron wanted nothing more than to throw himself out of the building's opulently stained-glass windows.
"What is this place?" He murmured in horrified awe.
Starscream glanced up from the datapad, and Megatron was surprised he could hear him from such a distance away.
"It's fine," the seeker said stiffly, optics narrow above the datapad. "I come here all the time."
Megatron was about to make a disparaging comment about Starscream's complete lack of taste, when he noticed the seeker's attention shifting to the entrance. Ah yes, they were still waiting for someone. Which made him wonder what part he had to play in this charade.
Starscream had mentioned strategy after all.
"Who is it?"
Starscream looked up again, "Who?"
"The unfortunate clod you've brought me here to help you intimidate."
The seeker lowered his datapad, and Megatron could just about see the gears turning in that mess of a processor he had. Then a dirty smile crossed his face. "Who said anything about intimidating anyone?"
Megatron felt even more uncomfortable, something he had previously thought impossible given his current surroundings. "The treaty signing...?"
"Oh," Starscream waved a dismissive servo, "I've already dealt with that. No, this is a personal matter."
Megatron hadn't felt this out of depth since he had first stumbled out of the mines. "Personal-?"
There was the sound of footsteps behind him and Starscream suddenly stood, smile lighting up the seeker's dark face in ways Megatron had never imagined possible. With a sense of foreboding, Megatron turned-
There was a third mech in the room now.
He was tall, broad shouldered, wearing an expression that implied he was as surprised to see Megatron as Megatron was to see him. His armour was painted the traditionally obnoxious primary colours of an Autobot, and with those insipidly bright, naive blue optics, he did little else but remind Megatron a great deal of Optimus Prime.
A young Optimus Prime.
"I... Starscream, I thought-?" The mech began hesitantly, and his voice, just a shade or two off Prime's own vocaliser, made Megatron want to hit him.
Megatron stood as Starscream began to make the walk around the ridiculously large table, optics locked on the misfit adolescent that somehow, someway, knew his Air Commander... personally.
"Let me introduce you. This is Regent," Starscream announced when he finally found his way to the Prime-Look-A-Like's side. Megatron watched a sky blue servo curl around the newcomer's forearm with shocking familiarity as Starscream spoke.
"I- Lord Megatron- sir," 'Regent's' servo thrust out between them, and it took Megatron a moment to drag his gaze away from Starscream to notice how it was shaking.
He took it, squeezing much harder than he needed to before yanking this 'Regent' a little closer to him. "A pleasure." He purred in the same menacing voice he used on the Real Prime. "Any friend of Starscream's..."
"We're actually more-" 'Regent' began before stopping abruptly, and paling considerably. Beside him Starscream didn't look the least phased, watching cooly, like an uninvolved third party.
"Do join us," Megatron finally released him, gesturing back to the table. Starscream was already signalling the staff to bring up another of the decadent cocktails passing for fuel in this place.
Once they had resettled, Starscream a mile down the table and 'Regent' now clutching a cube to his chest as if it could protect him from whatever an ex-Decepticon Warlord might decide to attack him with, Megatron decided a little interrogation was in order.
"So," Megatron took a large drink from his overly sweet cube, using it to brace himself, "How did you meet my Air Commander?"
"Former Air Commander," Starscream's voice drifted across the table before 'Regent' could open his mouth. "We met at the pre-treaty signing last stellar cycle. The one you refused to attend. I had no one else to talk to."
"And you 'hit it off', did you?" Megatron ignored the latter half of Starscream's sentence, his optics locked dead on 'Regent's' quivering form.
"We- we have a lot in common," Regent attempted, albeit pathetically.
Megatron drummed his digits on the edge of his cube, "I doubt that."
'Regent' swallowed thickly, looking to Starscream for help. The seeker stared back apathetically, slouched in his seat, watching the show.
"You're an Autobot." Megatron stated, rather than asked.
"No- yes," 'Regent' struggled, glancing down at the Autobot insignia covering his chest. "I was neutral. In the war. When the truce was announced I-"
"A neutral in war." Megatron placed a fist on the table and leant forward in his seat, "But an Autobot in peacetime." He raised his fist to point at the "Autobot's" chest. "What an incredibly coincidental change of spark you had."
"It. It wasn't like that."
"Oh?" Megatron hissed darkly, wondering how far he would have to push to make the coward curl up like a new-spark, "What right have you to wear that insignia?"
"No I. I was- I Am a pacifist. War is- I don't... I..."
After a few more painful moments of panicked stuttering, 'Regent' allowed his voice to taper off into silence. He stared down at his cube, and fidgeted. Like a youngling.
Megatron crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, that sounds very noble."
Reaching the limit Megatron had been searching for, 'Regent's' chair scraped across the floor as he stood. "Starscream?" His voice sounded weak now, and nothing about it reminded Megatron of Prime. "Are you coming?"
Starscream lifted his half empty cube, "and waste this?"
The coward turned 'Autobot' flushed, cheeks purpling. He left the room without a word.
Starscream had already gone back to his datapads as if nothing had happened, and for a moment, Megatron wondered what had happened.
"Did you enjoy that?" He asked eventually.
"Of course I did," Starscream didn't even hesitate. He threw back the rest of his fuel and let the cube drop back to the table carelessly. "Honestly, these Neutrals. Throwing themselves at me. Trying to elevate their status."
"So you're, what?" Megatron growled, "Humouring them?"
"I'm having fun," Starscream spat, throwing a handful of units on the table and standing. "You should try it some time."
"Hard to do when every time I turn around I find you there," Megatron also stood, glad to finally leave this place.
"Well, if you weren't so incompetent I could have peacefully retired by now."
"I wish you would." Megatron snapped back, following Starscream out of the room and back into the public area. With so many optics curiously glancing their way he forced his expression into something less murderous.
"Well I wish you'd just hurry up and die already," Starscream ruined the facade by saying loudly, "We don't always get what we want though, do we? So get in the transport or you can walk to the treaty signing."
They were in public, but Megatron didn't think there was any media about. He could probably get away with strangling the seeker. Civilian witnesses were easily bribed after all.
There was a blissful Starscream-free stellar cycle when Megatron left New-Iacon to oversee the Grand Opening of a Kaon's first ever Science Academy. Though he detested the idea of wasting time posing for the media and shaking sleazy servos, Kaon was a welcome change to the endless meetings and paperwork of his office in New-Iacon. It was probably the closest he had come to a vacation for the first time In his existence.
His return to New-Iacon involved a quick brief on current events from Shockwave (boring), followed by his treaty bound audience with Prime (excruciating). He was just on his way to the Prime's offices on the opposite side of the senate building, when Starscream jumped out from behind one of the pillars in the hallway.
Had Megatron still carried his fusion cannon he would have blasted the idiotic seeker in the face.
"Didn't scare you, did I?" Starscream raised a suspicious brow, leaning back against the pillar.
"No." Megatron took a deep intake of air, trying to calm his spark, "Is this what your post-war career has amounted to? Lurking behind pillars, terrorising innocent passersby?"
"I happen to hear a lot hiding behind these pillars," Starscream gave his a pat, as if to say it had done it's job well. "I checked your schedule on Shockwave's system. Thought I would catch you before Prime."
"You're beneath my notice," Megatron started walking again. He lengthened his stride to inconvenience the shorter seeker when Starscream began to pursue him. "I'm running late."
"You're not." Starscream had unsubspaced a datapad. "There's a neutral faction trying to lobby some support for the old 'War-Frame Flight-Restriction Act'. You know, the one Sentinel Prime passed just before you massacred him?"
Megatron's optic twitched, but he didn't slow his pace, "I remember."
"Well it's stirred up the media. Gotten them noticed." Starscream used the datapad to tap him between the shoulder blades. "They'll be at the Tyger-Pax Commemoration Banquet tomorrow evening."
"I won't be."
"Yes, of course." Megatron could tell Starscream was sneering and making faces at him behind his back. "Lets just let Prime's lackeys and a cabal of bigoted nobodies nab all the headlines and public support because the ex-Cons are all a bunch antisocial hermits."
"Insipid sarcasm," Megatron glanced over his shoulder at the seeker's grumpy face. "Just what I like to hear."
They had reached the lobby of Prime's offices now. Megatron stopped just out of audial range of the secretarial drone, wary of eavesdroppers. "Prime will not let that act anywhere near a council chamber."
"This isn't about the act." The seeker stood his ground, "This is about reminding them," Starscream gestured to the senate building at large, "All of them, that we are still a political force to be reckoned with. Maybe then they'll think twice before resurrecting biased legislation."
Megatron hummed thoughtfully, "Perhaps..."
"Good." Starscream interrupted quickly, thrusting the datapad at him. "Read this. It covers the guest list. Memorise it. We'll be making friends..."
"We?" Megatron's spark sank with dawning horror.
"You'll be escorting me, of course."
"...What?"
"To the banquet," Starscream said darkly, expression threatening a scene right in the middle of the lobby should Megatron refuse. "Unless, you're arranging to accompany someone else?"
Megatron desperately wracked his processor for a designation he could just toss out, anyone to save him from this fate. But none came to him.
"No?" Starscream smiled nastily. "Good. Pick me up at twenty hundred hours. I'll comm you the address."
"The banquet starts at nineteen hundred." Megatron reminded him, glancing at the event brief on the datapad. He raised an optical ridge. "We'll be late."
"I know how to tell time." Starscream sneered at him, one servo propped on his hip. "You'll need the extra hour to make yourself look presentable. And you Will. Make. Yourself. Presentable." He said with added force, pointing at him.
"...Twenty hundred hours." Megatron repeated, hoping compliance would make the seeker go away.
"A true gentlemech," Starscream smirked in victory, wriggling his claws at him in some semblance of a wave as he left.
Megatron stared after him, filled with dread.