Chapter 2

He had a target, but not a patsy to take the fall. But then again, it was Cliffjumper: Who hadn't wanted to strangle that minibot at least once? Someone would probably incriminate themselves if he played his cards right.

Hound snorted to himself, as he drove up the path with a sleeping Spike Witwicky in his back seat. They'd taken a longer hike than they had planned, and the teenager hadn't been able to keep his eyes open when they finally hit the road for home. Hound didn't really mind. Spike was a good kid, and all in all, it worked well for Hound. Gave him time to think without trying to keep up appearances.

Murdering Cliffjumper would be easy, at least. There was nothing better than when personal interests aligned with mission orders.

Hound hadn't known it was possible to get this jealous.

He knew that Cliffjumper and Mirage had become friends since the mind-control incident, but he hadn't paid them much mind. After the rec room flash of realization, he'd paid much more attention to them when he could. Hound hadn't liked what he'd found, now that he was looking: They were far closer than he'd realized. They watched things together in the break room. Gone on team assignments. Ate together at least twice a week.

Hound's engine roared: They'd fragged.

"Hound?" Spike asked from the back seat. He sat up, wiping the corner of his eye and looking far younger than he was. "You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry for waking you, Spike," Hound said, cheerful as he was able. "Just got a little excited to see a bird on my watch list."

"You probably scared him away," Spike said. He rolled over, and put his hand on the back of the front seat. He pressed his palm flat, and felt the vibrations under the leather. With the intuition of a youngling, he asked, "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Spike. Go back to sleep," Hound answered.

"Okay, but you know you can talk to me if there's a problem, right?" Spike asked.

"Of course," Hound revved his engine softly. "Now get back to sleep or you'll never be able to stay awake when you tell your dad about the hike today."

"Yeah," Spike chuckled, closing his eyes again.

Hound calmed himself, grateful for Spike's distraction. Being angry wouldn't help with the situation, and Hound sure had a problem alright: Cliffjumper had fragged Mirage. Once, but it had happened. Hound overheard him talking about it to Gears, and he nearly killed the both of them on the spot. Not because Cliffjumper had been bragging about an easy lay, but because he'd been enamored. He'd been asking for advise on how to move forward in the relationship. Gears had encouraged him. Mirage was good for Cliffjumper, he had said.

Murderous had been an understatement concerning Hound's emotions.

Mirage hadn't shown that interest in Hound-or if he had, the tracker had missed the signs a mile wide. He wasn't sure what was more frustrating: That Mirage was more interested in Cliffjumper, or that Hound had somehow missed his chance.

But it wouldn't matter soon enough. The red minibot would be dead, Mirage would be upset, and Hound was more than ready to step in this time.

Maybe Hound would set Gears up for the fall.

"Here on behalf of Hound?" Mirage asked, sighing into his cube. He had been waiting in the break room for Cliffjumper, but the red minibot was apparently running late. Mirage hadn't minded, considering how empty the room was, but it seemed his peace was broken as Trailbreaker took a seat next to him. "Not that I blame you."

"Well, you must already feel guilty if you're starting off the conversation," Tailbreaker chuckled. The bigger mech scooted his chair back to get more comfortable. "Word about you and Cliffjumper got around pretty quick after he told Gears."

"I figured as much," Mirage said. He covered his mouth. Mirage wasn't angry about it, per say, but he had hoped that Cliffjumper would have known to keep what was going on a secret until Mirage had given him a definite answer on his proposal. "I imagine Hound's angry I didn't tell him earlier?"

"Not sure, actually," Trailbeaker said. "Haven't seen him. I was curious myself as to why you hadn't told him about Cliffjumper earlier. He's your friend, too, isn't he?"

"What was between Cliffjumper and I wasn't all that serious," Mirage said. He rubbed his fingers on the table, tracing the marble pattern someone had painted into the surface. "Flings are fleeting, and they didn't really seem like something I needed to share."

"I don't think Cliffjumper considers fragging you a fling," Trailbreaker pointed out. Mirage sunk down, curving his back and for once, not caring about his reputation. Trailbreaker continued, almost sheepish, "Gears made it sound pretty serious."

"It may have been heading that way," Mirage said. And it had been, if he was being honest. Cliffjumper was loud, and crude and brash, but he was genuine. Hound was always telling Mirage he needed more relationships, and he wasn't completely opposed to giving it a shot. Though, Mirage would be lying if he hadn't hoped for someone else to step up. "I guess I didn't want to bother Hound with it unless I knew for sure myself."

"Part of being friends is talking that stuff out," Trailbreaker said. "He's going to be hurt you left him out."

"I know," Mirage said. He took a deep drink out of his cube, and leaned on the back of his hand. "I think I owe him a verbal apology for this one."

"Don't worry," Trailbreaker said. He reached over and tapped the table in an odd display of comfort. "Hound'll understand."

Cliffjumper stood in the center of in the storage room, swaying back and forth on his legs as he waited. You tell someone to meet them at a certain time, and then keep them waiting. How was that for a how-do-you-do? Cliffjumper openly smirked when Hound entered the room, a sheepish hand behind his head as he closed the door behind him. If the minibot had doubts before, they were gone now: Cliffjumper knew exactly what this was about. And if Hound thought the minibot was going to back off, that tracker was dead wrong.

"Hound," Cliffumper said. He put a hand on his hip, and used a thumb to point to himself. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah," Hound said. He shrugged in that humble way of his, and stopped about five feet from Cliffjumper. His he looked at the crate behind the minibot, and his face shifted serious."Had something I wanted to talk about."

"Mirage, right?" Cliffjumper said. Hound's face looked surprised for a moment and he chuckled.

Cliffjumper had called it.

"What makes you say that?" Hound asked, eyeing Cliffjumper suspiciously.

"You're his friend." Cliffjumper crossed his arms, and stepped one foot away from the other in a power stance. "I figure you heard about us this morning, either from Mirage clarifying a rumor, or someone else spreading gossip. You're either concerned for his well being and want to give me a lecture, or you're jealous and want me to back off."

"Interesting theory," Hound said. He crossed his arms, and hummed. "Which one are you leaning toward?"

"Personally?" Cliffjumper said, frowning. "I think somewhere in between. You seem like the kind of guy who couldn't figure out how you felt, and waffled until Mirage was taken. And now you're frustrated because you'll never know if you had a chance or not."

Hound tapped his fingers along his arm. The normally chilled Autobot was more agitated than he was expecting, and Cliffjumper started to revise his theory. Hound's voice was low as he said, "You're acting like you and Mirage are an item already."

"We are," Cliffjumper said. He coughed, and felt the energon heat his cheeks as he scratched behind his head. "Or will be. I figure since last night was our third time together, that it's safe enough to ask for something more official."

"Wrong," Hound said, something off in his voice.

Cliffjumper dropped his arm. Something wasn't right. The minibot clenched his fists, as Hound scowled at him. Now this was new. "And what exactly am I wrong about?"

"Mirage isn't into fragging dead mechs," Hound said. "He's not a pervert."

"What?" Cliffjumper asked, just before a shriek of twisting metal split echoed in the room.

Cliffjumper's pumps sputtered as he looked down. A sharpened pole about the width of his fist, had been shoved through his chest from the back. He looked down at the jagged point spearing forward, and his hand reached out for Hound.

"Frag! Hey! A little help would be nice!" Cliffjumper shouted, as the pole started to twist. The pole had missed his spark casing by an inch-he could feel it!-and he struggled to turn and meet his attacker. Why was Hound just standing there!? Cliffjumper snarled as he forced his chest around and-saw Hound.

The hologram that he'd been talking to disappeared with an amused grin through the flicker. The Hound holding the rod shoved through Cliffjumper's chest, on the other hand, looked like something from the Pit between the snarl and the narrowed eyes. "Hound?"

"You were half right about the second one," Hound said. Cliffjumper coughed energon, and it splattered against the leaking fluids already coming from his open wound. "I am most definitely jealous."

"En-enough to kill for?" Cliffjumper pulled a gun from subspace and swung it up and around, smashing it into the side of Hound's head. The larger tracker let out an expletive as he let go of the pole and tired to block the second hit. Cliffjumper pushed him away with a third smack, and a cry of "You're crazy!"

Cliffjumper dropped the barrel of his rifle, and lined Hound in the sights. He had his hand on the trigger, shaking and all as he tried to ignore the pole through his chest. "Stand down or I shoot you!"

Hound chuckled, "I keep forgetting you're a scrappy little thing. No wonder Astrotrain and Blitzwing are always complaining about wanting you gone."

Hound wiped at his mouth, and looking at a drip of energon from his dented teeth. He knocked himself on the head with his knuckles. Cliffjumper's systems screamed to a halt, or at least the ones still left working, as he looked at Hound. Something had changed about him. His stance, his confidence, the way he held himself-everything. It's like one of his holograms had dropped to reveal some stranger.

"But I can give you props for that." Hound said. "So, before you die-who do you hate more? Gears or Pipes? Because I haven't decided yet which one is going to get pinned for decorating the storage room with your broken parts, and I figure you might be owed a say."

"You, you planned this." Cliffjumper said, his grip on his weapon struggling as his internal systems screamed at him. What was this? Hound was too calm. This wasn't a jealousy based attack. This was too calculated. Nature loving, friendly, Hound didn't plan murders this way. He especially didn't take out his jealousy on other people when Cliffjumper was the target. Autobots didn't work that way. Cliffjumper snarled. Two and two just made four. "This wasn't about Mirage at all! You're just a filthy traitor!"

"And they say your leaps of logic never make any sense," Hound said. The tracker took advantage of Cliffjumper's anger and fired a small pistol the minibot hadn't even seen him take out. The blast split through his chest, shattering both the pole and cracking his spark chamber.

Maybe Mirage hadn't been wrong about the benefits of a small gun.

Cliffjumper felt his spark burst, as it's tendrils of energy sensed the opening in their encasement. Desperate to fill the new space, the energy seeped toward it. Cliffjumper could feel it dispersing in the air, no longer contained. He clawed at his chest desperate to keep it all inside as heavy footsteps lined up near his head. Hound looked down at him, a satisfied smirk that churned Cliffjumper's insides.

"You w-won't get away with this," Cliffjumper said, spitting a wad of energon at the traitor.

Hound crouched down, and leaned close to Cliffjumper's audio receptors. "Big words for a little 'Bot."

"D-dirty f-fragger," Cliffjumper said. His spark sputtered, and reached tendrils of energy to the open air in its attempt to escape up. It was trying to go back to The Well. Cliffjumper could feel it.

It was too early. Cliffjumper wanted to rip someone's head off. He finally-finally had somebody all his own. And this? This is what Primus dealt him? And what about-What was Mir-

"Oh, and as for Mirage," Hound said. He pulled a piece of yellow metal, and scraped it down Cliffjumper's front in a quick vicious swipe. Cliffjumper jerked with each slash. "I didn't need to kill you to claim him for myself. I'm confident he would have dumped a worthless, gun-crazy fragger like you for me in a second if he knew I wanted him. This was just business, so don't think so highly of yourself."

"F-frag you," Cliffjumper said.

His last words.