Certamen
Plenoptic
Gah…I've been writing and rewriting this chapter and I just can't get the opening right.
Armada Jetfire and Red Alert.
Inconcenssus diligo is "Forbidden Love" in Latin. This chapter title's translation next chapter :D
Red Alert didn't quite know what to make of it.
He'd known for Jetfire for a very long time. A bit longer than he cared to admit, actually. And in that span of time he'd come to understand that Jetfire was, as the humans so eloquently put it, a "skirt chaser." Jetfire loved femmes, loved interfacing and kissing and spending time with them. He was an attractive and humorous mech who got along well with females.
But in spite of all that, Red Alert had never really imagined that Jetfire would ever…fall in love, per se. He'd always assumed that Jet would see it as a restraint, something to hold him down, and there was nothing a flier hated more than chains of any kind. Jetfire had never been able to settle down; on Cybertron, he'd refused to live on base, instead skipping around from apartment to apartment in Iacon. Girlfriends had come and gone within the blink of an optic until everyone gave up trying to keep track of Jetfire's love life.
Red Alert leaned back in his seat, spun around in it a few times (wheelie chairs were certainly an ingenious invention, to the humans' credit). The security officer slash medbot was famous for his calm and straight forward attitude in any situation, but this…this threw even Red for a loop.
He supposed he ought to tell someone. Not Optimus, certainly, Red had known the commander as long as he'd known Jetfire and he knew Optimus's temper. Optimus and Jetfire were the best of friends, but Optimus loved his daughter more than life itself. No, telling the big bot was definitely out of the question.
For a while Red Alert pondered telling Hotshot--the mech was best described in human terms as a "gossip whore"--and vetoed that idea quickly. Delicate situations called for delicate handling, and Hotshot's method of problem resolution was anything but delicate. Said method generally called for grabbing anything in the vicinity that was passable as a weapon and bashing the slag out of the "problem" (which was usually a Decepticon, and in that sense the method was fantastic, up until the point where Jetfire and Optimus had to leap in and save their comrade's over enthusiastic aft).
Red Alert only managed to decide that someone definitely needed to confront Jetfire. Not scold him, but learn his motives and his reasoning. Jetfire was a good mech, he was kind to femmes whether he was with them or not, but he wasn't a saint. He'd had his share of "one night stands." Red Alert couldn't believe that Jetfire would use Kaceystar, but the flier had proven himself to be unpredictable enough that one could never be too sure.
But who could get the mech to talk? Kup had been a good mentor to all of them, but he wasn't as close to Jetfire as he was to Optimus or his friends. Ultra Magnus was the same. Neither of them had ever truly understood Jetfire, had never really gotten through to him on an emotional level. Jet respected them and looked up to them, but they were not his teachers, his role models.
Red Alert sighed heavily. He, Hotshot, Jetfire, and Optimus had once made up one of the most uncoordinated and unorthodox deep-space teams in recorded history (next time Optimus set off to rescue a minibot species, Red would make sure he wasn't involved in any way)--how ironic that to solve this problem, Red would be forced to call in their fifth member…
He trudged down the hallway, several tons of grumpy, irritable, drowsy mech. His green and brown paint was flecked with dirt and mud, his exhaust caked with grime, armor streaked with all manner of organic matter.
Scavenger was in a horrible mood on account of one fact--
He'd just been awoken from a nap.
Young bots just didn't get it. He didn't have the energy to run around for days on end like Optimus or Jetfire or Hotshot; he needed to recharge whenever he could squeeze it in. Scavenger's frame had been created before energon was being mined and refined efficiently, and therefore he took much more of it to run properly, and easily needed two to three times as much recharge. Ironhide, Ratchet, Kup, and the other bots his age had all had their frames upgraded and remodeled, but Scavenger simply didn't feel like putting forth the effort. So what if he had to put in extra recharge. He was fine just as he was.
Yawning, he yanked open the door to the rec room (he still hadn't quite grasped the concept that they opened on their own) and stomped his way in, optics scanning the room quickly to search out his prey.
Jetfire was lounging on the couch in the back of the room, surrounded by the twins, Bumblebee, and Kacey, who were deeply involved in a game of poker. The flier had his feet up on the table, and was holding up fingers behind Kacey's back to indicate to Sunstreaker what cards she was holding (they still hadn't managed to beat her and her damned poker face in a fair fight).
"You," Scavenger grunted, and Jetfire lifted his head instinctively. "You" had been his only designation for the many, many vorns it took for Scavenger to actually remember his name.
"Hey there, big guy," he said cheerfully, flashing three fingers to Sunny. Kacey, seeing the movement on her peripheral vision, glanced back at him, and he shrugged innocently. Clearly suspicious, she turned back to the game. "You wanna play?" Jetfire inquired, glancing back up at his old teacher.
"No," Scavenger grunted. "Outside. Now."
Jetfire arched an optic ridge, grinning behind his mask. "Aw, did someone wake you up in the middle of a snooze? You know, Scav, I'm sure the recruits would appreciate it if you slept on your own time, their training is kind of impor--"
"NOW," Scavenger repeated, his voice a low, dangerous growl, and Jetfire visibly flinched.
"Okay, okay…geez…" He got up from his seat, patted Kacey's shoulder when she glanced back at him, and seemingly waved to Sunny--but was actually indicating that Kacey was holding a five.
"Straight," Sunny muttered absently, but before Kacey could turn to yell at Jetfire, Scavenger had effectively dragged the hapless mech out the door.
Exactly one point two breems later, Jetfire found himself fidgeting uncomfortably while in Scavenger's quarters. The old mech had opened up a cube of high grade, thrown himself onto his berth, and gone completely silent.
"…Well?" Jetfire questioned, seating himself cautiously. "What'd you want?"
"Talk," Scavenger grunted, taking a swig of the high grade and shuttering his optics.
"About what?"
"About last night."
The silence that followed was awkward--more so for Jetfire, who had been unprepared for such a conversation, but Scavenger had known from the beginning that this was going to suck slag.
"What about last night?" Jetfire replied after a few moments, and Scavenger snorted.
"Last night as in screwing around with Prime's kid."
"…Oh. That last night."
"Yeah. That last night."
Another silence. Scavenger yawned and scratched dried dirt off his chassis. Jetfire continued to fidget.
"…How'd you know?"
"I have magical powers."
"Scav."
"Red Alert saw the footage on the security cameras. He told me."
"Ah." Jetfire sank back in his seat, sending a quick text message to Kacey.
--IT WAS RED ON DUTY LAST NIGHT.
--Oh crap. Has he told Dad yet?
--DUNNO. BUT HE TOLD SCAVENGER. IF HE DID TELL OPT, I'M GUESSING I'D BE DEAD RIGHT NOW. JUST PLAY IT COOL.
--You're the one being interrogated, follow your own advice.
--VERY COMFORTING. THANKS.
"I haven't told Optimus, just in case she's wondering," Scavenger said loudly, and Jetfire jumped, opening his mouth, but Scavenger pounced on the question before he could voice it. "Kid, I know you. It's kinda suspicious that you're so concerned about Optimus finding out, I gotta tell ya."
"Optimus is crazy protective of her," Jetfire replied quietly, lowering his optics to the ground. Scavenger was damn good at making him feel ashamed of himself. "Plus, I…I kind of felt like I was betraying him."
"You did betray him," Scavenger grunted, throwing down the rest of his high grade. "Running around with his daughter behind his back? You betrayed his trust."
Jetfire flinched, optics dimming. Ouch.
"Just own up to it, kid," Scavenger said softly, sitting up and reaching out to grasp his young protégé's shoulder gently. "Tell him how you feel. You're his best friend so yes, he'll be upset, but he'll also be more inclined to believe you."
"I guess so," Jetfire mumbled.
"Look, you love this girl?"
Jetfire looked up, optics brightening. "More than anything."
"Then do what you gotta do," Scavenger said firmly. "Come on now, runt, I know I raised an idiot, but I sure as hell didn't raise a coward."
Jetfire grinned, getting to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest. "No sir, Scav--you raised none of the above."
Kaceystar poked her head nervously in through the door. It was kind of strange to see Jetfire working. He was bent over his desk (since when did he have a desk?) optic ridges knitted in concentration, intensely golden optics narrowed slightly. He was a professional slacker, as he liked to say, but he was Optimus's right hand bot. The sub commander. Prowl may have been second in command, but Kacey had heard from many a mech that Jetfire was the one in control when Optimus and Elita were absent.
Kacey leant her head against the doorframe, unable to suppress a smile as she watched him. Primus, she loved him. Loved the way he shifted his wings, loved the way he cocked his head to the right when he was thinking and to the left when he was listening to his commlink. She loved that he'd refused to change his optic color to blue like the other Autobots, preferring to keep them the color of the sun.
"Kacey?"
She jumped at the sound of his voice, grinning awkwardly. "Oh. Uh…hi. I just thought I'd drop in…and say hello. Or something."
Jetfire smiled, pushing his chair away from his desk and opening up his arms. "I missed you, too."
She beamed, closing his door before hurrying forward and scrambling into his lap. Jetfire pulled her close, his burly arms wrapping tightly around her upper back to pin her solidly to his chest. Her optics shuttered of their own accord, her audios searching for the soft beat of his pump.
"Do you have some time?" she inquired softly, and he sighed heavily.
"I'm sorry, Kase, I don't--I'm completely swamped here."
She frowned. "I was hoping we could go flying…"
"I'm sorry," he said again, nuzzling the top of her helm apologetically. "I really am, Kacey, but duty calls, you know?"
"I know," she replied, a soft puff of air floating from her intakes. "Tonight?"
"…Yeah. Yeah, you can count on me tonight. Halo at my place?" he teased, nudging her belly. Kacey had a secret video game obsession and he knew it.
"…Can we play the Flood level on Champion?"
"We can play it on Super Champion."
"There's no such thing."
"Not the way I play," he said with a grin, and she couldn't help but laugh, pressing her face into his neckplates.
Jetfire quieted after a moment, growing serious. "Kacey. I think I'm going to tell your dad tonight."
She jerked back in shock, staring at him with wide optics. "You what? Are you insane?"
"I don't want to hide anything from him. I know you don't want to either," Jetfire said quietly, taking her face in his hands. "Listen. Optimus may be my friend, but he's also my commander. He's my leader. I've followed him in and out of blackholes, we've dragged one another off the battlefield. I've followed him to hell and back countless times. We're a team, your dad and I, and I can't do something like this without his blessing."
"'Something like this'?" she repeated, optics narrowing. "You make it sound so scandalous."
"Running around behind the Prime's back with his daughter?" Jetfire inquired, his optic ridges raising slightly. "Well, yeah, that sounds pretty scandalous to me."
"For the love of Primus, Jetfire, it's not like I'm just a piece of aft that you've rented," she growled, climbing off his lap to stand squarely in front of him, fists on her hips. "This is a relationship, isn't it?"
"Kacey," Jetfire sighed patiently. Primus, she was young! "How furious would you be if, say, Nitro went running around with your daughter?"
Kacey hesitated, taken aback by his question. He folded his arms over his chest, lifting his chin a little. Victorious.
"Now imagine that you found out by accident, that they'd been seeing one another without telling you? You'd immediately think that Nitro was taking advantage of her, now wouldn't you?"
"…I suppose," Kacey mumbled, lowering her optics.
"There you go. Now, the difference between that scenario and that one is that this is your father we're talking about. He's a mech. His natural instincts are to rip apart anything that he registers as a threat to his family. And not only are you his family, but you're also a femme, and there's that other troublesome male tendency to violently rip apart anything that threatens a femme. And then of course we have to remember that this is Optimus Prime we're talking about. Now, Unicron I can handle, I've done that before, but your dad? That's a different story."
"You've fought Unicron?" Kacey broke in, stunned.
"Well, yeah, there was a thing a long, long time ago…anyway, Kase--"
"You never told me that!"
Jetfire sighed, rubbing his foreplate. "Yeah, Unicron started making trouble and Optimus's boys had to beat him back. Hotshot and I lead a whole battalion into the fight, and--look, can we just stay focused on the now, please? I don't wanna talk about the past."
Kacey sighed, taking a seat on the edge of his desk and looking down at her lap. "You really wanna tell my dad?"
"I think it'd be for the best."
"And what if he doesn't condone it? What if he tells you to stay the frag away from me? What if he strips you of rank?"
"Then that's all there is to it," Jetfire said heavily. "I don't think he'd pull my rank, though. He'd have to find himself another aerial commander, sub commander, not to mention Powerlink partner--"
"Wait, what?"
"He'd have to find another Powerlink partner. And anyway, you can't pull rank based on relationship status, he'd be liable for a court martial--"
"You never told me that you and Dad could Powerlink!"
"Didn't strike me as that big a deal," Jetfire replied. "Anyway, that was a long time ago also, it's not like we've tried it here on Earth."
"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" Kacey inquired, arching one optic ridge.
Jetfire stared at her for a moment, bewildered, then his optics narrowed into a glare. "Kacey. It's not like these are deep, dark secrets. I've been fighting a war for a long time now, alright? I've only known you for a few years, of course there's stuff about me you don't know."
"Fighting Unicron and being my dad's intimate partner kinda strike me as monumental stuff," she snorted, folding her arms across her chest.
"I was not his intimate partner, we could Powerlink. Lots of mechs and femmes alike do it. It was battle strategy."
"A Powerlink is a complete sharing of thoughts, feelings, even physical awareness," Kacey argued. "I've done it myself, remember? With Roller. Seems pretty intimate to me. Seems like you'd miss it a little."
Jetfire sighed, turning his gaze out the window. "Sure, fine. Optimus and I were closer when we were combat partners, and yes, I do miss that closeness. Having someone to depend on was nice. Having someone know all my feelings without me having to sit down and talk about it was nice. But that's not the point, Kacey, can we please focus on you and me now?"
She sat in silence for a moment, optics drifting randomly over his frame. "I barely know you," she said quietly.
"You know everything you need to," he said swiftly. "Trust me. The skeletons in my closet aren't anything that you need to worry about. We've all got them, right? I know you do, too," he said, and she flinched.
"Alright, Jetfire," she sighed, reaching out to him, and he took her small hands in his large, powerful ones. Hands that could probably snap her in half, regardless of her powerful frame and stronger alloys. Hands that had been so remarkably tender for such a seasoned warrior. "If you want to tell my dad, you should tell my dad. But…give me tonight, alright?"
"Hm?"
She leaned in closer, brushing her mouth plates over his mask. "Make love to me again tonight. Give me this one last night if my dad won't give us his blessing."
Jetfire relaxed, nuzzling his noseplates against hers. "Alright. I can sure give you that much, kiddo."
"What's this flick called, anyway?"
"Terminator."
"…Huh. And what's the plot again?"
"This guy's just trying to keep this evil race of robots from enslaving human kind, or something."
"Uh-huh. And you are suggesting that we watch this mindless slaughtering of our race because…?"
"They're not like us, Jetfire," Kacey laughed, tightening her embrace. "They're programmed to destroy, they don't have sparks. And none of them are even remotely good looking."
"Ah." Jetfire smiled, leaning back to gaze up at her. "Then why are you interested?"
"Well, I have a good looking mech right here, I hardly need one on-screen," she purred, nuzzling her noseplates against his. He was seated beside his recharge berth, while she was laid out upon it on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her head resting comfortably beside his. The room was dark save for the flashes of light emitted by his giant mounted TV screen.
"Are you sure you made peace with Scavenger?" she inquired worriedly, and he deflated at the sudden change in mood.
"I'm not sure 'made peace' is the right term, but I think I got him off of our backs for awhile," he sighed, reaching one hand up to gently stroke her face. "He told me to come clean to Optimus and I'm sure that he'll eventually start pushing again, but hey, I told you not to worry, I've got it under control."
"I'm part of this relationship too, I can help," she insisted, but he shook his head.
"Nah. I don't want any of this to fall on you. In the end, it'll just be a bunch of stupid mechs thinking they all know what's best for you. Follow your own spark, Kacey, and let me take care of the dissenters."
Kacey released a puff of air from her intakes, resting her head against his and shuttering her optics.
"How does anyone get any lovin' done around here if the security cameras are on at night?" Jetfire questioned, leaning his head back.
"I think Dad just contacts whoever is on monitors and tells them that he's shutting his off when he and Mom want 'alone time,'" Kacey responded distantly. "Of course, if anyone else wants them off, they've got to explain what they're up to. I'd have to come up with some excuse."
"You could always say that you and your buddies are playing strip poker," Jetfire suggested, and Kacey snorted into his neck plating. "How much longer until the cameras come on?"
"A couple breems," she replied softly.
"You tired?"
"A little."
"C'mere," Jetfire instructed, opening his arms. She moved down from the berth, and he hoisted her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and placing his chin on her helm.
"No, Jet, I'm fine," she mumbled. "We haven't got much time left…"
"Hush. We've got all the time in the world. Tomorrow night and the night after that and the night after that. You recharge, I'll wake you before the cameras come online, and we'll get you back to your quarters."
"…Hn," she assented after a moment, snuggling into his embrace. "Jet?"
"Yeah?"
"Love you."
He smiled, lowering his head to softly kiss her foreplate. "Love you too, kiddo. Now, recharge. I'll wake you up when it's time to go."
The sparring room was always rowdy on work days. Mechs came in before and after their shifts to get ready for the new day or begin to unwind. The officers were required to put in time in the sparring ring to keep their skills sharp, while recruits were encouraged to put in time just for the practice.
More than training, however, the sparring ring was a good place to settle old scores.
"You give yet?"
"Frag no, you stupid aft!"
Optimus tightened his grip, further wrenching back Jetfire's arm. "How about now?"
"You no good son of a glitch! I'm gonna tear off your ball bearings and shove them up your--OUCH!"
"Sorry, what was that? I must have missed it while you were screaming like a femme."
"Frag you!"
Laughter rang from the mechs and femmes lounging around the ring, all watching the match with amusement. Jetfire was trapped flat on his stomach with his commander and best friend easily straddling him in front of his wing joint, arms hooked around the shuttle's to lock him in place. Jetfire had been squirming for a good three breems, but hadn't managed to do more than scoot around in an awkward circle.
"In my professional opinion, he's got you beat," Scavenger harrumphed from the sidelines.
"You frag off, Scav, chances are you'll fall into recharge before the match is over," Jetfire panted, glaring at his old mentor.
"Pin him harder, Optimus."
"OW! I hate you guys!"
"Oh, hey, while you've got him pinned there," Ratchet called from the side, "he's long overdue for his injections, I'll run and get my syringe--"
"OPTIMUS, GET THE FRAG OFF, HE'S TALKING NEEDLES!"
Optimus laughed deeply, swinging one leg over and releasing his iron hold on his best friend. "Come on, Jetfire, I know you can do better than that."
"Shut up, I'm just a little off today," Jetfire grumped, bucking his commander off before standing and stretching his aching hydraulics.
"And why is that?"
"Late night."
Optimus arched an optic ridge. "Oh? And what were you up to?"
Jetfire grunted noncommittally, accepting the towel Hotshot threw him from the sidelines and mopping coolant from his overheated frame. The spectators, recognizing that the match was over, were either beginning to disperse or prepare another match. Jetfire watched his commander warily as Optimus wiped down, shaking droplets of coolant from his massive frame. As though sensing his best friend's lingering gaze, he lifted his head.
"What's up?"
Jetfire looked away quickly, embarrassed. "Nothing. Um, something. Er…I kinda have something I need to talk to you about."
Prime arched one optic ridge. "Oh? What's wrong, Jetfire?"
"…You have to promise not to kill me here."
Optimus's optics narrowed marginally, but a wry smile touched his faceplates. "Oh, boy. What did you do this time, Jetfire?"
Jetfire was silent for a moment. Now wasn't really the best time to tell him, but there were plenty of witnesses around. "I…um…I'm kind of…I'm seeing Kacey."
Optimus blinked stupidly, face blank. "Uh?" he managed to get out.
"Look, it's not as bad as you think, I'm really in love with her, and she's got feelings for me too, and we've been spending time together and I think she might be my spark mate, I mean, I want to spend my life with her, and--"
WHAM.
The blow came so fast and so hard that Jetfire didn't even have time to register what had happened before he was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, which was spinning. He vaguely registered an inability to move his jaw properly. He sat up dizzily, blinking around at the blurry room, when a thick silver hand shot forward and yanked him up by the chest plates.
"YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF NERVE, YOU KNOW THAT?!"
The fist connected roughly with his jaw, and Jetfire found himself on his aft once more. He removed his mask with one shaking hand, spitting energon from his mouth. Optimus Prime was towering over him, a pillar of rage, literally trembling with fury.
"How dare you," he snarled softly, his optics near white, narrowed to slits. His voice was dangerously low. "How DARE you take advantage of her!"
"Boss--" Jetfire tried to interject, but then Optimus's foot connected solidly with his gut, throwing him onto his back with a grunt. He rolled over onto his stomach and scrambled to his feet, whirling around just in time to take another fist to the noseplates. Stumbling back, optics watering with the pain, energon pouring from his face, he scowled at his fuming best friend.
"Dammit, Optimus, you picked a hell of a time to be a complete jackass!" Jetfire swore viciously, wiping his mouth and flicking the bright blue energon onto the ground. "Listen to me for one second!"
"I've heard enough," Optimus snarled, charging forward, and Jetfire braced himself for impact. Their combined mass threw them both into the spectator's ring, leaving several mechs yelping and scrambling to get out of the way as their commander and his right hand bot kicked, bit, and punched every inch of the other male that they could find.
Optimus was beside himself with fury. His best friend indeed! What kind of best friend would run around taking advantage of his leader's innocent daughter?!
Other mechs had more than taken notice of the spectacle, and a smattering of murmurs had broke out. The twins grinned at one another while Hotshot stood stunned for a moment before shaking his head and hurrying towards his best friends.
"Alright, you guys, cut it out!" he urged, inching towards the vicious tangle of mech. "This is stupid, what the hell are you two fighting about?!"
"Just shut up, man, please," Jetfire panted, bringing a knee up into Optimus's stomach to cease the hailstorm of fists attacking his face. "Hey, on second thought, get someone to get this crazy bastard off of me?!"
Hotshot frowned. "You shouldn't talk about Optimus like--"
"HOTSHOT!"
"Oh, right. Sorry. Um, Scavenger! Hey, help!"
The immense mech heaved himself up from his seat (he'd been rather enjoying watching his favorite protégés beat each other to death) and stomped his way over to the quarreling twosome, a low growl rolling in his throat.
"Optimus. For the love of Primus, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
Prime paid his mentor no heed, much more preoccupied with pounding Jetfire into a bloody pulp. Something inside the flier snapped then, and with a roar he threw his weight against his leader, throwing them both backwards and into the ring.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, soldier?" Optimus snarled.
"I'm doing whatever the hell I want!" Jetfire retorted, optics blazing. "I'm doing whatever I want, you stupid prick!"
Hotshot grimaced and covered his optics as the two mechs collided once more, struggling to pin the other to the ground. The other bots in the room had fallen silent, ogling the sight in complete shock. They'd never seen Optimus nor Jetfire fight so viciously. Optimus was making good use of his knees, as Jetfire was on top of him; Jetfire, meanwhile, was allowing his fists to pummel every inch of metal within reach.
Optimus suddenly snorted in surprise, one hand flying to the side of his neck. Jetfire paused in confusion, one fist held up above his head, when he felt a sharp sting in his side. He looked down and was surprised to see a small dart embedded in the gaps between his armor. The world began to dim, and he felt his arms and legs going lax…
With a heavy groan, he collapsed forward, leaving two immense mechs offlined in the sparring ring.
"Whew," Elita One sighed, handing a stunned Ratchet his dart gun. "See, that's how it's done, Scavenger."
"I knew he bonded with ya for a reason," the older mech chuckled, stepping into the ring with her and dragging Jetfire's dozing form off of the Autobot commander. There was energon everywhere, and both mechs were covered in dents, dings, and various other wounds. "They did quite a number on each other."
"But what the frag were they fighting about?" Elita wondered, picking up the long-forgotten towel and tenderly mopping Optimus's bloodied face.
"Aw, who knows. They get like this every couple of vorns. Unpredictable that way," Scavenger grunted, heaving Jetfire up and struggling to hold him. "Hotshot, get over here and help me, runt. Ratch, better prepare a coupla tables for the idiots."
"Way ahead of you," Ratchet sighed, turning and hurrying out the door. Ultra Magnus stepped forward from the gaping crowd to pull Optimus up, dragging his unconscious commander toward the med bay, an amused Elita trotting along at his side.
Somewhere nearby, an insect was buzzing. He swatted at it irritably, trying to roll over, but something was holding his head in place. He pawed at an audio, trying to get the incessant buzzing to cease, but it only seemed to grow louder. And clearer. Jetfire growled, pulling against his restraints, but was too far gone to feel the gentle hand on his shoulder, holding him down.
"Primus, they're morons," Ratchet sighed, wiping his hands as he came to stand by Jetfire's bedside, where Kacey had been sitting for most of the night. "Don't worry, Kacey, I've been running diagnostics all night. There's no lasting damage."
"And my dad?" she inquired, tearing her optics from her beloved to blink owlishly up at the medic. "He's okay too?"
"Better off than Jetfire. I don't suppose you have any idea what brought on that little skirmish to begin with?" Ratchet asked suspiciously, arching an optic ridge when Kacey turned her face away. "Well. If you're not feeling talkative about that…how long have you and Jetfire been seeing one another?"
She jerked in surprise, whirling around to stare up at him. "How did you…?"
"I've seen hundreds of lovestruck little femmes in my lifetime," he snorted, waving a hand dismissively. "How long?"
"Just a few days," she murmured, lowering her optics to look back at Jetfire's slumbering face, covered in temporary weld patches and thick tape. There was a brace encircling his head, holding his shattered jaw in place while Ratchet's injection of nanobots did their work. "He must've told Dad…"
"That would explain it," Ratchet mused, pulling up a chair to sit down beside her. "Aw, well, it could've been worse. At least Optimus didn't have his gun on him."
Kacey looked over at him, her optics widening. "He wouldn't have…"
"A mech protecting his females is wont to do anything," Ratchet said seriously. "Of course, it would seem that Jetfire was in the same position. In his mind Optimus was threatening his relationship with you, which he, of course, was determined to protect. Of course, it doesn't help that they're both incessantly violent morons." Ratchet shrugged and Kacey rolled her optics. "Oh, hello, Elita."
Kacey turned and near grimaced when her mother looked her directly in the optics from the doorway. Ratchet excused him quickly, leaving the two femmes alone with the unconscious Jetfire.
"Mom, look…" Kacey began, but Elita lifted one hand to cut her off.
"Kacey. Relax. I understand," Elita said gently, striding forward to pull up a chair, joining her eldest child at Jetfire's bedside. "Love is hard. Especially when it's forbidden. I know the feeling."
"You do?" Kacey inquired, surprised.
Elita grinned over at her, optics twinkling brightly. "The High Council wasn't so gung-ho about Optimus getting bonded. Nor about him having a relationship to begin with, actually."
"I…I didn't know. It seemed kind of like a fairy-tale romance to me."
"No such thing," Elita said grimly, reaching out to gently adjust Jetfire's brace. "Ratch always puts these things on too tight…anyway, every couple has its problems. Kacey, if you're in love then you have my blessing. I think we need to have a little chat about your choice in mechs, but…" She shrugged, and Kacey laughed. "I'm just kidding, of course. Jetfire is a good mech. He's callous and cocky and occasionally lazy, but he's never let Optimus down. He's a real Autobot, and I don't think there's anyone better for you. I had my hopes set on you and Bumblebee, but—"
"Mom?!"
"Well, he's much closer to your age!" Elita said defensively. "And he's so sweet, too, he'd be such a good mate—but it really is your choice, and I've always liked Jetfire. He's been a good friend to your father, and Optimus has always needed him."
"Dad doesn't seem to be quite as accepting of this," Kacey said glumly, and Elita laughed.
"He's being overprotective. His little femme is growing into a young lady and that scares him. When he comes to his senses he'll relax a little, don't you worry. Just because you'll have a mech at your side doesn't mean Optimus can't protect you anymore, he just needs to figure that out for himself. And keep in mind that your father has come across a lot of bad mechs in his time," Elita added, her optics darkening, and Kacey bowed her head slightly. "Cruel mechs, and not just within the Decepticon ranks. There are plenty of filthy Autobots as well, Kacey. As you've already learned. Of course, Optimus trusts Jetfire with his life. I'm sure he'll come to trust him with yours, as well."
"How is Dad?"
"He's been through much worse, don't you worry about him. If I hadn't shot him he'd probably still be awake and beating up on this poor guy," Elita snorted, patting Jetfire's arm sympathetically. The mech released a low groan, body shifting, and his optics came online slowly. He gazed up at the ceiling for a moment before his optics shifted, settling on Elita, and a stupid grin stretched his mouthplates.
"Knew you'd realize that your spark wanted me sooner or later."
"Don't be stupid," Elita chided, but she couldn't hide her smile. "I'm just here for Kacey."
"Aw, don't be like that, baby."
"Don't 'baby' me, I'll tie you down to that berth and torture you, you know I will."
"I love it when you talk that way," Jetfire purred, and Elita snorted before standing, giving her daughter a brief hug.
"I'll keep your dad off of your moron here for a little while," the older femme assured her daughter softly. "Just give him some time to cool down before you talk to him, alright?"
"Sure. Love you, Mom."
Elita kissed Kacey's helm warmly. "And I love you. Jetfire, behave yourself."
"Yes ma'am," Jetfire responded drowsily, and Elita nodded briskly before departing the room. Kacey turned back to her lover, reaching out to slip her fingers beneath his. He squeezed her small hand gently, exhaling deeply and shuttering his optics.
"You okay?" she inquired worriedly, and he cracked open an optic to look over at her, a slight smile lifting his lip components.
"M'fine. Tired. But that's probably the sedatives." He grimaced, shifting uncomfortably. "Any chance you could get this thing off for me? My neck is killing me…"
"Oh, sure…" Kacey leaned forward, frowning as she struggled with the clasps on the head brace. "Huh…how the frag does this thing…"
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"I dunno. You know...Most of the femmes I've had have all been about quick frags. But with you…I…" He trailed off, then looked directly at her, optics burning. "I love seeing you overload. I love seeing you writhe and I love hearing you cry out my name. I want to see you screaming in ecstasy." Kacey trembled when he moved closer, placing a hand on her thigh and brushing his mouthplates over her abdomen. "I didn't know interface could be like this," he commented softly. "This intimate. This intense. I thought that kind of stuff came with sparkbonding, not fragging around."
"We're not just fragging around, though," she breathed, reaching down to caress his face softly. "Mom always told me there was a difference between desire and lust. This is passion, not animalism."
"I guess." Jetfire fell silent, then abruptly launched himself forward, throwing her onto her back, pinning her hands above her head, kissing her hotly. "I've never wanted anyone this bad," he growled between kisses, hands pulling her lower body tightly against his. "I've never had anyone that I wanted to own. I've never wanted to rip the arms and legs off a mech who talked to my femme before." He pressed his foreplate to hers, optics on fire as he looked down at the beautiful femme beneath him. "I've never wanted to bond to anyone before."
Kacey leaned forward to kiss him tenderly, relishing in the feel and taste of his lips. "I love you, Jetfire," she murmured, stroking his chestplates just above his spark. "I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'm just…"
"You're not ready," he confirmed. "I know that. I've known that from the second I fell in love with you. But my spark is here, and it's ready whenever yours is. Understand?"
She nodded, and as he moved in to kiss her once more, the door flew open.
"Oh, really?" Ratchet huffed irritably. "Kacey, for some reason I thought you were better than your parents."
"WHAT THE FRAG ARE YOU DOING, JETFIRE?!" Hotshot shrieked, forcing his way around Ratchet's imposing bulk and pointing on infuriated finger at his best friend. "GET OFF OF HER!"
"Relax, kid, they're the base's new hottest couple," Ratchet said flatly, seizing Jetfire by the shoulders and throwing him onto his back. "You're not to sit up, understand? And your vociferous making out has thrown your jaw back out of alignment, you'll have to wear the brace for a few days. Kacey, off the berth, I want him to lie down."
"Ratchet?! Why aren't you shouting at him?!"
"I make it a priority not to get involved in my patients' private lives," Ratchet said smoothly, and Kacey and Jetfire snorted in unison. Ratchet was known for locking his patients in rooms with mates to get them to sort out their differences or reestablish their sparkbond, even take some patients off the work roster if they struck him as a bit tired.
"Is this why the boss was so determined to beat your processor out of your helm?" Hotshot demanded angrily, rounding on the prone Jetfire.
"Guilty as charged," the shuttle said easily. "Look, kid, don't muck around in what you're too young to understand, okay?"
"I'm older than Kacey!" Hotshot growled. "Jetfire, this isn't okay, she's Optimus's daughter! I thought you respected him!"
"I do," Jetfire responded coolly, his voice taking on a dangerous note. "It's not like the others, Hotshot. This is different. I'm in love with this kid."
"Did you tell her that after or before you fragged her?" Hotshot demanded, and Jetfire sat bolt straight up, drawing a startled yelp from Ratchet.
"Shut the hell up," Jetfire snarled, optics narrowed to slits.
"You've claimed to be 'in love' with every femme you've bedded more than once," Hotshot snapped. Kacey hadn't ever seen the normally good-natured young cadet so angry. "And then boasted about how quickly you 'nipped that little problem in the bud!' Well, I won't let you do it to Kaceystar, I just won't! She's too precious to all of us!"
"Oh, frag off," Jetfire scoffed. "You're just angry because I made a move even though I knew how you felt about her."
Hotshot blanched, optic widening. Kacey stiffened and lowered her gaze automatically, glancing sideways at Jetfire, who was already looking horrified.
"Oh, Primus, kiddo—I didn't—"
"Forget it," Hotshot said shakily, turning to go out the door.
"Hotshot…"
"I said forget it!" the yellow mech snapped, whirling around to glare viciously at his best friend. "If you were half the friend you say you are, you'd have respected my feelings. But if I'm half the friend I claim to be, I'll remind myself that hey, that's just you being your usual jackass of a self, and I'll let it go." He turned his gaze on Kacey, and she flinched. "And I don't want to talk about it. Just forget it."
He turned back around and stormed from the room, leaving an awkward silence hanging in his wake.
Aw shiz XD Please review? :3