TITLE: Hourglass Euphoria

CONTINUITY: Transformers Animated

RATING: M (for slight sexual content)

SUMMARY: No one knows this story. This story of love. Because their time together, however blissful, was cut short by the unforgiving servo of war.

INSPIRED BY: TFRarePairing's Weekly Request Prompt

PROMPT: WheeljackxOverride Prime – The Long Goodbye

Hopefully, by now, you are all acquainted with the Cybertronian terminology I use in this fic. If not….

Body parts (all approximate, and the anatomical chart I use for my stories):

Hands = Servos
Arms = Support Servos
Legs = Stabilizing Servos
Tongue = Glossa
Feet = Landing Pads
Shoulders and Knees = Shoulderpads and kneepads, respectively
Eyes = Optics
Fingers = Digits
Hips = Pistons
Lips = Lip Components
Mouth = Vocal Receptor
Teeth = Denta
Ears = Audio Receptor
Neck = Chassis Pillar
Torso/Chest = Chassis
Body = Frame/Shell
Brain = Processor
Sections of brain = Lobes

And time (all approximate, and the chronological chart I use for my stories):

Any time less than a second = Microklik
Second = Nanoklik
Minute = Klik
8.3 Minutes = Breem
Hour = Cycle
6 Hours = Joor
Day (both day and night) = Solar Cycle
Week = Decacycle
Month = Orbital Cycle
6 Months/Half a Stellar Cycle = Orn
Year = Stellar Cycle
83 Years = Vorn
Approx. 100 years = Megacycle

Hope this helps.

DISCLAIMER: Transformers: Animated belongs to Hasbro, as well as the characters. Everything else is mine.

_

Unlike his partner, he actually made effort to recharge. Let Percy be an insomniac if he wanted.

At the same time, though, sometimes he wish he had the microscope's stamina. Recharge was a blessing, hardworking bot that he was. And sometimes…..

….it was a curse that robbed him of recharge and his usual affable mood for solar cycles after.

He envied his partner's ability to not be distracted. To an extent. His ability not to do anything to emotionally hurt himself.

Sometimes, once in great while, sometimes, his recharge was both. A cursed blessing. Or a blessed curse. Whichever one made sense more.

He'd wake up, sorrowful and ready to scream but never going through with it, then slip back into it, his support servos reaching out for some invisible presence in his berth beside him. Always, he rested like that. Yearning.

Forever yearning for someone that was one of the greatest things that ever happened to him. Someone that wasn't ever coming back.

"I made this one into a femme."

"….Is that even possible?"

"Yes. Yes it is. These ships are not just ships, you know."

"And this one you made into a femme…..?"

"For you. I figured since you had so many mech soldiers under you, you might like a femme friend to speak with."

He expected, at the very least, a smack across the faceplates for such misogynistic intent, but the dust-rose and turquoise femme merely smiled and looked up at her spacecraft. Her Supreme, as the scientists began to name each of the subjects.

Kappa Supreme was a magnificent result of engineering, a rare feat of Wheeljack's that hadn't exploded, thank Primus. The only femme Supreme in a long line of the giants, she was set to be run by, appropriately, the first femme Prime in history.

"Such a product of your servos, and one that hadn't malfunctioned yet, and you binary bonded her to me?"

"She deserves only the best."

The copper-faced Prime only smiled at the indirect compliment, careful not to suddenly pull him into her support servos and kiss him. Careful not to let anyone notice.

She only kept her distance from the pristine white mech because of the war. And of their positions. For she was a Prime, a brilliant strategist, looked up to and watched by many. And he, although highly respected in the Ministry of Science, held the lowly position of an engineer, weaponsmith and inventor. He never even spoke during reports between the Ministry and the Council unless called upon. They shared nothing more than a good shake of servos and the occasional friendly hug.

At least, not in the view of others.

But away from suspicious and watchful optics, in the safety of his private labs, or in the quiet of Kappa Supreme, they were equals. Titles, ranks, plating, fears-all taken off and cast aside when they were together.

So what if the rumors were true? Was equality not what the Autobots stood for? For the elimination of the caste system and the freedom of choice for all? Even in life partners?

At first, it was only smiles. Claps on the back and friendly linking of support servos. Her peeking over his shoulderplate to see progress of the projects. His jokes, whether clever or not, to make her laugh. Because both of them needed it, what with their serious colleagues, and their serious business, and all that seriousness.

And then gifts. His gift of a few weapons that he planned out, customized, and had his apprentice Ironfist make for her (because every time he tried to, the dang things would pop open or explode). Her gift of some extra-fancy high-grade only the higher-class bots could afford. Gifts between friends. Because good friends did that for one another.

The projects stretched out for a long, long time, and they would be working together for as long as it took to make the Supremes. When they first met, it was made very clear that as soon as Project Kappa was finished and ready for launch, she would no longer be in the Guild Scientius. Maybe not on Cybertron, even.

It dangled, like a wrecking ball on a chain, swinging back and forth in their processors. That fact. That, not now but soon, the Prime would leave in her battleship to war, and that she may never come back.
But Override was a soldier, as was Wheeljack. Her place on the field, his place in the labs. War was bound to take either one of them, or both of them, at any time, so it didn't really matter.

At first.

And then it got complicated.

They never meant for it to. Really. But as they say…

…..all is fair in love and war.

It didn't help that they were both the same height. That all it took was a simple push and a leaning forward at the same time. His mask would've helped big time.

Except it was back in Ironfist's workshop, being prepared for titanium plating.

"I…."

"…..Shh."

"But-"

"-Quiet."

"…..Aren't you going to-?"

"-Again."

"…What?"

"Again, I said."

"…you mean…..?"

"Yes, Wheeljack. Again. Longer. And slower."

"Yes….yes, Override Prime, ma'am."

Her triumphant smirk was covered by his scarred lip components.

He was older, but she was above him. And not just in rank.

It didn't matter. None of it did. For the first time in a long time, there was something worth fighting for. Surviving through the insanity for.

Kappa….was the closest thing to a sparkling to them. Something they both had a servo in creating. He in the schematics and mechanisms. She in the blueprints and botpower. White and silver from Wheeljack, blue and copper from Override. She was wonderful, and held more potential and promise than a mere superweapon.

However, her completion signaled their separation.

It was the solar cycle before the solar cycle she would depart. Possibly forever.

They spent it in his personal quarters. Because his private laboratories had soundproof walls, due to the constant screw-ups of his experiments. He ran a large servo up and down the tall, dust-rose plates on her head, savoring the pleased expression in her faceplates. She took his free servo and trailed soft kisses upon it.
She was going to miss those servos. Marred from his hard work with tools and heavy loads, servos that caused not only his experiments, but her body, to come apart and explode, to be set on fire, to…..leave remnants on his faceplates and body as well.

"One last time", he murmured to her.

"What?"

"So I have something to remember you by."

"Memory is not a 'something', Wheeljack."

"If it's one of you, it's something to me."

"…Under one condition."

"Anything, Override, ma'am". While he had earned the privilege of dropping the Prime suffix vorns ago, he wasn't about to disrespect her now.

"First, drop the ma'am. Right now, there is no Prime and engineer. No commander and scientist. Just you and I. Second, I want you to lead. To be above me."

"….Are you certain?"

"Of course."

"Why? Many times before, you wanted me to be under you."

She ignored the stab of heat that shot to her faceplates. Another simple thing she would sorely miss.

"Because….any time I'm going to have to look up, it's almost always for something awful. Something heavy is going to fall on my head. There's a Decepticon ship about to drop bombs on my soldiers. The higher-ups on the big screen, informing me of something that makes me want to blast holes in their armor.

"Above me. Whenever I look up, even in my berth on my Supreme into the empty expanse of space, I want to imagine you. Your smiling optics and deep laughter. Strong yet giving, and such servos touching me, your body descending upon me. Something to come home to. Something to remember you by as well."

"…..That is all?"

"You have given me everything I asked of you, and more. Please, Wheeljack, this is the last thing I ask of you."

"Last. That word. Last. I'm starting to hate it. I really am."

"Wheeljack-"

He suddenly embraced her, holding her tightly. His usually gentle but firm tenor sounded so broken.

"Override, please. I won't. Even if I have to hold you to me like this until this war is over, I will. I won't let you go. We'll find Kappa Supreme another bot."

"Wheeljack." She turned in his support servos, reaching up her surprisingly thick, wide servos, and cradling his faceplates in them. "When this is all over, nothing can keep us apart. But there won't be an 'all over', unless I go and do what I must now. You know that, too."

"Then this is…..only a see-you-later? Not goodbye?"

She pulled him down on her in response.

Then it was only sound and touch. Servos and lip components. Hard denta and moist glossas. Saddened optics and lingering feels. Servos trailing down chassis, up each other's backs. Along stabilizing servos and gently trickling among the unique planes in their faceplates.
Off came her helmet. Off came his mask. Her stroke of his cable. His vocal receptor upon her port. Vulnerable and open. Moans carried on the airwaves. Groans stifled on the berth.
And then….his descent upon her. Gently easing her open and entering her with the practiced restraint of his scientific nature. Her initial wince of pain, and his soothing murmurs smoothing it away.

He loved her, and he was letting her go for the greater good. A cry of pain nearly escaped him, but watching the sadness in her optics, he wanted to remedy that. However short-lived that remedy would be.

The climax of their joined bodies came and went. Recharge came and went. Soon, too soon, she was taken away.

He didn't want to see. Didn't want to be there, amongst the confetti and patriotic cheering. Didn't want to cause her to be moan in sorrow and lose her resolve before all of Cybertron. So he didn't come.

But he couldn't help himself when he saw Kappa Supreme lift into the stratosphere. Couldn't help himself from believing that if he waved to the ascending ship, out of some window, Override would be waving back as well. Couldn't help himself from breaking down, wishing it didn't hurt so much.

And when word came around that Kappa Supreme, and, ergo, Override Prime, were destroyed, Wheeljack cursed that he couldn't just stay in his place, to protect his own spark. Leaving to drown his sparkbreak in the last of her high-grade, he also cursed the fact that she lied.

There was no see-you-later.

Only this painful, long goodbye.

_

Inspired by TFRarePairings on LiveJournal, and one of their Weekly Request prompts, as well as my own craziness and my tendency to listen to it sometimes.

…..Or all the time, depending.

I'm uploading all my stories because work starts tomorrow, and college starts again this coming Monday, and I know I will not have as much time as I did over the Holiday break to write or post, so….yeah.
Not only that, but Internet is still down at my place, and I'm getting more familiar with the workers at this coffee shop (that has free Wi-Fi) than I'd like to be.

Oi.

What do I say about this.

I know, I know. Y'all was waiting for an update for Penumbra from me, and when I do have Internet access, instead, I give you a drabble about Percy's partner and some femme no one cares about.

Am I horrible or what?

See, I notice that Wheeljack tends to get the short end of the stick, both in canon and fanon.
In the G1 cartoons (and fanart), his stuff always explodes in his faceplates.
In the G1 Movie (you know, "you got the touch, dun dun dun dun, you got the power, dun dun dun, tik tik tik tik, YEAH!), he dies.
In the Unicron Trilogy, he becomes a traitor.
In the Animated series, he gets no lines whatsoever.
In the Bayverse movies, he gets brutally executed.
And in the Prime continuity…he has facial scars, psychological scars from probably watching his fellow Wreckers get killed, and he gets the typical Drift treatment.

And in the fanart and fanfiction (and most other fanworks), it's his partner, it's Percy, who keeps getting the love/action/happy endings.

And I say WHAT.

Everyone, I love Perceptor as much as the fandom does (I mean, really, he's the Woobie of the entire franchise), but c'mon! All scientists are sexy. I repeat, ALL DA SCIENTISTS NEED SOME LOVIN'.

So…yeah. I, personally, thought it would be kinda hot to make his lover a rank higher than him. Or give her/him reason to be above ole 'Jack.

Also, Override Prime, being a femme Prime, just fascinated the daylights out of me. Considering she wasn't even Cybertronian to begin with. (see Override on TFWiki) And, hey, she had to work on her own ship at some point, I think.

Whatever, guys. This one feels all blech on me.

I'm gonna go buy myself some tea before the coffee shop workers kick me out. Leave comments, please. And thanks so much for reading my junk.

~Ylysha