== FORBIDDEN FANTASIES ==

By Ayngel

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor do I own any of the characters or concepts, nor do I make any money from any story written about Transformers. Please do not sue me.

This story came about some time ago when I was challenged to write about Skywarp and Mirage. I am currently in the process of rewriting and improving it.

The story follows the G1 Season1 very closely, starting just after the episode "Roll For It" and continuing on to between "Divide and Conquer" and "Fire in the Sky". It is part 1 of a saga which eventually leads up to the "Traitor" episode in season 2 and its repercussions. It and devotees of that should get something extra out of it, but - please - don't stop here if you've never seen that because this is intended to appeal to all.

This is a love story which explores the characters of Skywarp and Mirage, (who happen also to be among my very favourite characters in the series) and their complicated cross factional relationship. I present Mirage a bit differently from some writers, making him handsome, talented and quite kickaft, an asset to the Autobots but often at odds with them because of the differences between him and them and the running of his own agenda. Readers who like fluffy Mirage being taken under Hound's wing may not be so enamored of this version (!) but if all the facts we know about Mirage are weighed up it seems credible to me - and does make him work quite well with Skywarp, and be quite romantic, unlikely though this pairing seems.

It is not only about Mirage and Skywarp, however. A relationship fraught with the difficulties this must face when set within complex dynamics such as already exist is bound to affect everyone around it. Thus the story is also about those resulting effects and whilst it is mostly told from the viewpoints of the two protagonists, some chapters get written by others and some other characters have quite a lot to say.

This story is long, complex, and gets very angsty. So if you like one shot wonders, it may not be for you!

Thanks for reading – and I love reviews, so they are most welcome!

Warnings: **Slash** although this is of the romantic and not "smutty" variety it gets quite explicit. And well – maybe just a smidgeon of smut here and there!

Prologue: The Transmission

Designation: Mirage

Intelligence Officer, Autobot Earth Mission

...

Megatron gave the orders. But it was the Seekers who did it.

It was they who so remorselessly wiped out my home, my kin.

And so, after the war had begun and the Towers were in ruins, and the pieces and parts of the once noble rulers of Cybertron had washed into the ruined city of Iacon, but I had survived – I took my revenge.

And I did it well. Things could have been much worse, had it not been for my interventions. That much the Autobots could never deny, even if the taking of matters into my own hands was not strictly within protocols, or the ruthless destruction of any set of beings, however evil, warred within their sparks. I made a difference. In those early days of war. That they had me to thank for.

Seekers. My most hated enemies. I used to creep among their squadrons, invisible, as they recharged. And kill them one by one.

I left not a mark of their murder upon them - before vanishing without a trace. I took great care, however, to always leave two 'signs.' Firstly, my crest emblazoned on their wings and, secondly, a number.

Then I would visit the ones I left alive and leave a series of numbers consecutive to those on the wings of the dead. That way, they all knew two things: Firstly, who had killed them. And secondly, who would be the next to die.

Seekers. Evil, pitspawned vermin. They deserved it. And none were worthy of reprieve or compassion. For they showed none.

...

Sometimes, however, grief spawns blame and illogical hatred. Sometimes, grief causes misjudgments. And even where there is no misjudgment, and those who perpetrate a crime justly deserve their fate ….

There are always exceptions.

Given what transpired, it is perhaps surprising that when I – reluctantly – came to Earth with the Autobots, I had neither recognized my mistake, or acknowledged an exception …

When it started, we had been on Earth for about nine months.

The Decepticons had reappeared some three weeks previously, and we had so far managed to thwart their attempts to take control of Earth's resources and deplete the planet for their own ends.

Personally, I thought we'd done rather well. We'd saved a solar power plant and only today stopped Megatron from using anti matter to blow up the planet; we'd performed numerous useful little favors whilst the Decepticons were out of the picture, to say nothing of our endeavors when first on the planet: saving the dam, putting out a fatal fire on an oil rig, preventing Megatron's use of the Ruby Crystals and saving a rocket fuel base.

All in all, not a bad effort by my calculations - yet the vast majority of the human race remained, from what I could see, somewhat indifferent, if they even cared about or were aware of our presence at all. So much more reason, I surmised, to take what we needed and go – for we could easily get enough to make a start on Cybertron and leave sufficient for the humans, if - as Prime insisted - this was so important.

During the 'Cons absence I had argued that, if we went, then even if they did resurface they would be bound to follow - I mean, they were hardly likely to stay on the other side of the universe and let Prime take back Cybertron, were they? What was more, they would be bound to use the spacebridge for their return – and therein lay the opportunity to destroy them all, once and for all.

Yet, Prime had lingered. And now the Decepticons were back, it seemed he was going to keep lingering. It served only to enforce my suspicions as to whether he wanted to kill Megatron at all. As for the others , they seemed content to remain, and to take his orders, and to fight the same old battles with the same old 'cons and the same old results; and I knew that the longer we stayed the further away the dream of rebuilding Cybertron would recede.

I felt depression and despair, other longtime enemies, creeping in again. And it was then, right after we had saved the Earth from being blown up with antimatter, that I received the transmission. It came in on an unlisted frequency and appeared on the screen in my quarters just after I had returned from the washbay. It was written in - somewhat poor - Iacconian, which was a universal communication.

It was from a Decepticon. A Seeker. Skywarp, to be precise :

Mirage

By now you would know I didn't die in the crash and am still alive. All of us are. I guess the 'Bots would be jacked off about that. Well, tough tailings. They ain't gonna win here. I just can't wait to get out of this kell hole and back to Cybertron.

I should, of course, have been instantly infuriated by this. It was clearly a highly inflammatory communique from one of my most hated enemies, one of Starscream's elite squadron, who had formed the front line on the Towers raid. But I was weary and not in the best of mindframes towards the Autobots right then. So, instead, I actually smiled. You want some fun? I thought. Bring it on.

But the next part was not what I expected.

This is a real un conlike thing for me to do. In fact, I don't even really know why I'm doing it. If Starscream finds out I'm doing it, I'll get my aft kicked and probably grounded for Primus knows how long, and maybe even replaced with a conehead. Just so ya know, it's not kind of – regular for me. But I just felt like I wanted to do it anyway. So I hope you appreciate it ...

Now, I have to confess, I was baffled. I had never, in all the six million or so vorns I had been fighting the cons, received anything like this from a Decepticon. Or anything like this period when it came to that. It went on ...

No that's not right. I shouldn't be tellin' ya to appreciate anything or nothing like that Mirage. I'm sorry I just did that. Real sorry ….

What? I thought. Had he intended to send this? Or had he fired it off by mistake - maybe under the influence of some unusually potent high grade. Seekers were, after all, renowned for enjoying their indulgences. But if that was so, then what Megatron might have to say about it was suddenly rather amusing. I kept reading.

I guess what I'm tryin' to say Mirage, and I ain't doin' it very well cos I'm not real good at writing stuff down. I guess what I really wanna get across is, and like this is real unconlike and not like something I should be doing or saying but I just can't help it ... I just can't help but think …

And then there was a gap in the time sequence on the transmission before it went on –

Oh pit, Mirage! I think you're really - amazing. I mean, I can't think what else to say!

If Optimus Prime himself had appeared in the doorway and said he wanted to interface I would not have been more surprised. The words seemed to freeze on the screen in front of my optics. And a portion of me reeled in revulsion. Skywarp was a wanton killer. All of his trine had slipped through the net when it came to Seeker termination, a situation I had decided to rectify if I got the chance, while we were here.

Hadn't I?

You're real good looking, Mirage. I mean, real beautiful and classy like. Much more so than all of them other bozos – in fact I don't reckon one of them could even hold a candle to you ..."

Yet, I couldn't help it – inwardly I tingled. It was altogether rather nice about having something like that said in that manner. None of the Autobots would have said it. Oh, a few fantasized about getting in my berth. Alphamechs are, after all, well versed in the art of erotica - something we are taught at an early age as part of our social interaction - and my talents were not an exception in that department. Yes, it was 'exotic' to be fragged by an Alphamech. But, if anything, the Autobots resented my 'classiness.' They would never have praised it.

I'm not the sort to normally go for landrollers and I've tended to stick to – well, other flyers and Seekers mainly. But in your case I'd give them a miss for you any day ...

Yes, well, I was liking this now. In fact, a nice warm glow was starting to make its way slowly through my systems.

Your moves – they're just the most amazing moves I've ever seen. At the factory yesterday when you rescued that kid on wheels – even though I can't say I gave a pit about that kid I thought they way you did things was incredible, Mirage! It was much flasher than that green bozo or that little yellow fragger.

Indeed, I found myself nodding in agreement. I had thought my efforts were worthy of just a little more praise than the Autobots had deemed appropriate.

... and that time at that dam, you got me and TC a beauty …

TC? That was Thundercracker, evidently …

…. and even though it hurt like Hell and TC was cursing ya for the whole of the next day I still thought it was one of the most amazing things had happened to be in eons ...

Now, some doubts crept in. This was a bit over the top! He would've been in agony after that little episode- hardly a state of affairs which any Con would praise his assailant for. Yes – what was this really about?

I suddenly felt a little silly, and rather annoyed that I had actually gotten myself heated up over this. Gotten heated over him. This Seeker. No, it would not do! Firmly activating my cooling systems, I took a firm grip on myself.

... and the way you got on the space cruiser and put us out of action was awsome! And then Screamer shot at you and you were still all right and you jumped out! All I could think of for all the months we were under the ocean was you and whether you'd survived and when I found out you had I was like really relieved …

And now, I was sure it was not some 'romantic message' as this was plainly ridiculous. In fact, I imagined I could now see exactly what it was, and could not believe that I had not seen it before. The mongrel was insulting me and having a good laugh at my expense. Probably his trine mates were with him right as he typed it. Maybe all the Decepticons. It was probably the subject of uproar back in the camp, right now.

Well, I would show him I was made of sterner stuff. By the Spires of Altihex, if I was not above being conned in by such pitiful approaches I was not worthy of calling myself a Towers mech. And he would be back on the assassination list. Yes! Right after I was through with reading this rubbish.

I'm not putting this real well. I hope you're still reading. Please be still reading.

You see - I normally wouldn't even go looking at a 'Bot. But you're different, Mirage. Real different from them other idiots. An' I get the impression they don't treat you like how you should be treated a lotta the time. I dunno. All I know is you don't sorta seem like one of them and I know you lost a lot in the war like – more than they did.

And again, I paused, confused - because I felt strangely moved. Could it be that I'd just made the wrong evaluation? There was just something about those words. An 'understanding' I was unaccustomed to. And the distinct feeling that, if this was a cruel joke, he would not have included such a statement.

And I just – look, I don't even know why I'm even saying this, But I'm kinda sorry for what happened – you know, with the Towers an' that. I'm sorry cos I know it was me partly made it happen ...

And at that, I felt something else. An undeniable twinge in my spark. I couldn't help it! Never in all my time with the Autobots had any concern really been shown for my losses. Mostly, they didn't even acknowledge them and, even if they did, they failed to see the magnitude. No - they thought I should be grateful just to be alive and "one of them."

When I get back to Cybertro, I'm gonna get somewhere real nice this time, not another pithole like I've lived in all my life. Cos it's time things changed, and I like nice stuff, Mirage. See, no one thinks I do but I do. And I know the stuff you liked was real nice and that's why I'm real sorry about what happened to it.

Skywarp was sorry, and he liked nice things. My spark gave another twinge as the warmth returned to my circuits.

Later, I surmised it was at that moment that my opinion of Seekers started to change. Not in a sudden revelation and flood of goodwill. Too much had they done, and too long had I resented them for that. It was more like a trickle through a crack in a dam which, if left unattended, will one day become a deluge, changing the landscape forever.

Well, I guess you're gonna stay with them idiots and I certainly ain't gonna leave the cons, so I guess that means we'll keep fighting each other out there. I know Megatron and Soundwave wanted you in the 'Cons for eons and they probably still do. But I wouldn't want that Mirage. It's too rough and you're too special. I just want you to know that when we're out there I'll try and make it so you don't cop too bad a pounding. If I can see ya there, that is ...

Waves swept from my spark and spread over my sensor net, and I felt suddenly quite overcome with emotion. This really was – lovely. If it was a joke – well it was, at least, nice one. Yes – I didn't really care! But it wasn't, anyway. I was certain now. So much did I want to believe that it wasn't, and so much did I yearn to warm to his sentiments, that I convinced myself there and then that it wasn't.

No guarantees. An' I certainly ain't lookin' out for none of them other losers. Anyway, like I said, this ain't my thing. But I just sorta been wanting to say this. Like – I wanted to before and I didn't get the chance. And it probably won't make any difference and you're probably still gonna hate me anyway and I'm real sad about that but there ain't nothing I can do about it, but I really am sorry and I'm glad I said it anyway.

Then there was just one last sentence.

I hope you're all right on the Ark. I dunno what it's like there, but it's a living Kell down here. But I'll be all right. I'm kinda like – a survivor. Like you, Mirage. Maybe we do have some things in common after all.

Your secret admirer

Skywarp

…..

I stood staring at the screen, mesmerized, as my spark pulsed with a dull ache. There was so much in my processor that I could barely assimilate it. How long had he been like this? There I was, thinking all Seekers were just mindless killers. I had killed his kind, just as he'd killed mine. Yet, impossible though it seemed, Skywarp, apparently, was not like that. He regretted his actions. He had – remorse. And above all else I was ashamed, right then, to think that he - the savage Seeker – was the one who could let his desires and contrition rise above his anguish. Something I, the so called ' noblemech,' had never even remotely managed to do.

And I took a step towards the console; because surely I must get straight back and let him know I'd received the transmission, and I appreciated it, that I maybe also had been overzealous in my actions. My mind raced. Maybe we could even meet. Talk it through. Explore our feelings. I could decide whether I was prepared to undergo a shift where all Seekers were concerned or whether it was just him …

But I didn't get very far. From the corridor came the sound of clanking metal and footsteps approaching ; Bluestreak coming back from patrol. As the door hissed open, I hastily brushed at my optics and deleted the message on the screen; it shimmered for a brief moment and was gone, leaving just a glow, a ghostly memory of what had been.

Blue came up and stood behind me. "What was that?" he said.

"Nothing," I said, "... nothing at all..." It was amazing how quickly I recovered my composure.

I turned to him and he looked at me with his very pale, glassy blue optics and his face was very sweet, I thought, and showed as always some vestiges of the pain I had been through and knew so well and which I did find some solace from in our lovemaking. "Come here ..." I said.

He melted into me and then we lost ourselves in each other, as we had been doing for a while now, ever since about a month before the cons had reappeared.

But it was not "nothing." And the Seeker was far from out of my thoughts. In fact, as we connected, the image of Skywarp was with me, and quite a different set of thoughts came into play. And I surprised myself by learning something I had never before acknowledged: that much as I may have hated and hunted Seekers, never in all the eons had I considered them physically unattractive. Emotionally maybe, granted. But physically? Quite the contrary, as it happened.

So Bluestreak did not know, as I thrust the connection deep into him and he was flooded with the urgency of my overload straining against me in his own release, that I was not thinking of his cute face, or his crested helm, or his tasteful curved thighs or his doorwings, or even of him at all.

No. Speed and power, wings and lofty places , the roar of jet engines and the intoxicating aroma of jet fuel – all infused with a curious blend of black and purple hues - consumed my thoughts entirely.