Title: Adventures with a sleeping Blast Off 3
Warnings: fluff, comedy
Continuity: G1 [part of ultharkitty's Dysfunction AU]
Characters: Swindle, Blast Off, Brawl
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Sadly, nothing is mine.
Summary: Blast Off has a good sound sleep which leads to some memorable moments in one way or the other. This time, it's Swindle's turn.
Beta: ultharkitty


Waking up Blast Off was one of the least favourite tasks of any Combaticon – minus Vortex.

The shuttle was just so hard to wake, let alone to keep awake once he uttered a grumble or moved. Sometimes he slapped people, or kicked out, and he wasn't even to blame. It was just his sleeping habit.

After Brawl's helm had been accidentally dented by the shuttle while booting up, it was now Swindle's turn to try his luck.

At least he knew Vortex wouldn't be in there, because the 'copter was on monitor duty. Served the fragger right. He could rust in boredom in the room and die of slow-processor-clocking.

Swindle's intakes vented a huff, and he entered the security code for the base that he'd got from Onslaught. Their commander would probably change it as soon Blast Off was in his office, so Swindle didn't bother to save it to his long-term memory banks.

Blast Off's room was dark. The shuttle lay on the berth, one leg bent, and one arm raised weirdly and resting against the wall. Maybe he'd already tried to punch something. Who knew what was going on in Blast Off's head – other than some dry, scientific nonsense.

Stepping closer, Swindle remembered Brawl's warning not to get too close. He looked around, and took a datapad from the desk. It was offline.

Swindle didn't care what was on it. He threw it at the shuttle, hitting his upper arm.

Nothing happened.

"Hm," Swindle huffed to himself, and took all the other datapads. One by one, he threw them at Blast Off, and finally earnt a reaction.

The shuttle grumbled something unintelligible, waved a hand before he wiped some of the datapads off him, and rolled over. Unfortunately, he rolled to the wrong side, and was now facing the wall.

Swindle clenched his hand to a fist; the other still held a pad.

What the frag was wrong with this shuttle? Any other mech would have been awake by now. Maybe also in a bad mood, but that didn't really matter with Blast Off, since he was like never in a good mood.

"Fine, aft-head," Swindle muttered, and went to the berth. "If you hit me, it's your damned fault. Or better Onslaught's fault, because he sent me here. Stupid Commander."

Trying to touch Blast Off's shoulder, Swindle climbed on the berth. He was too small, and Blast Off lay too close to the wall to reach him otherwise. It was annoying. Thankfully no one saw him there kneeling next to the unconscious shuttle and trying to wake him up.

The first shake of the other's frame did nothing. There wasn't a twitch when Swindle touched Blast Off, not even a disapproving mumble.

Vector Sigma, how could someone sleep that soundly?

"Oh, come. On. Are you fraggin' serious?" Swindle cursed, and shook the other mech harder, even punching the shuttle's upper arm to get some sort of sign he might wake up.

And Swindle did gain that sign.

Blast Off's hand raised and caught Swindle's wrist. It made the jeep freeze, and that was his big mistake.

Before he could fight back, Blast Off turned, forcing Swindle down, and rolled half on him. The masked face was hidden between Swindle's shoulder and head, an arm draped over the jeep's waist while his own was buried under the shuttle.

Blast Off muttered something; his battle mask moved, but Swindle couldn't understand it. The other's shoulder was on Swindle's chest, blocking some of the view, and he could hardly turn his head while the large shuttle side vents blew warm air over his frame.

Stunned, Swindle wasn't able to move, and not just because of the weight. If Swindle could trust his senses and knowing people only a little, then he'd think the shuttle pressed him closer. The black hand was on his hip, resting there as though to keep him in place with only the slightest pressure.

"Uh," he uttered. "Blast Off?"

There was no answer.

Swindle sighed, and his head dropped back.

Great. With this bulk of metal on him, there was no way he'd be able to get up, least of all to wake the other. His arm already began to get numb, and his joints where Blast Off lay hurt. A warning appeared in Swindle's HUD, but he shut it down. He knew why his systems protested.

He started a half-hearted attempt to shove Blast Off away. He pushed the other's shoulder, trying to lift the shuttle just enough to be able to slide off the berth.

It was useless. Just as useless as it had been before trying to wake Blast Off up.

Punching Blast Off's upper arm once, Swindle then put his hand on it. The metal was solid, thick plating that didn't bulge or moved. Even the paint seemed unreally tough, and there was no scratch from having been hit.

Swindle had to admit that it was impressive in a way. And that it wasn't too bad to be trapped like that. It was probably the first time he'd been this close to Blast Off. That he could feel and read some the other's energy field which was hard to decipher right then. He still had to be deep in recharge, because it fluctuated unsteadily with the weirdest sensations and emotions. If you could call it emotion, considering it was Blast Off.

"And now what?" Swindle mumbled, his trapped arm completely numb by now. His free hand stroked Blast Off's shoulder absent-mindedly, and the exhaustion in Blast Off's energy signature was contagious.

/Hey Swin!/

It was Brawl's voice over comm-link that startled him, and he'd have probably sat up in surprise if he hadn't been pinned down.

Brawl continued before Swindle could reply. /How far are you with waking up Blasty?/

Swindle shifted as much as it was possible. /Uh, well, that…/ He turned his head a little, staring at Blast Off's audial.

/I take it he's still in recharge?/

/Yes, he is./ Swindle felt like a failure.

/Heh, awesome. Ons cancelled the meeting. It's tomorrow, because Screamer wants to come too. No idea what's he up to. Anyway, means you can stop poking the dead shuttle./

Swindle tensed. It was great news, but he still had a problem. /Uh, okay. Nice…/

Brawl's frown was audible over the comm. /But? I know you. You have a 'but' there. What's wrong? Thrusters hit you or something and you're stuck in the wall?/

/Not quite that./ Sighing, Swindle heaved air through his side vents. /I'm stuck beneath Blast Off./

The tank's laugh was so loud, Swindle thought Blast Off would wake up from it. Too bad the shuttle didn't.

Swindle had to ask Brawl to come and get him. He was thankful that Onslaught didn't seem to have changed the security code yet, and Brawl could get into the shuttle's room. The barrel on Brawl's back trembled, and his shoulders twitched in what was probably suppressed laughter.

Swindle couldn't see what Brawl did. But the hand on the jeep's hip twitched. Shuttle intakes stuttered, and the strong engine revved. It sent vibrations through Swindle, and made him shiver.

Eventually, Blast Off raised his head, and kicked out his leg.

"Frag…" he muttered, and Swindle didn't know if he should be relieved that he would soon be free, or scared of Blast Off's reaction once the shuttle found out that he'd hugged him in his sleep.

Blast Off didn't appear as though he noticed Swindle when he rolled over, and raised himself up a little, a dim visor looking at the tank. "What's up, just lemme recharge." His speech slurred as though he was drunk.

Swindle used that moment to shuffle off the berth. He landed on the floor with a clang, but the shuttle didn't comment on it, and Brawl was distracted answering, "Nothing, really. How are you?"

There was definitely a grin behind Brawl's battle mask, but Swindle didn't care. He sat up, and looked back on the berth, seeing Blast Off rolling back to face the wall.

"Tired. Don't wake me up if it's nothing," he murmured, the intakes vented loudly once, and then set to a slow steady pace.

The tension eased from Swindle's joints – at least from the ones he felt. His arm was still numb, and the side and leg Blast Off had lain on hurt. He looked at Brawl, silently asking for help.

/That bad?/ Brawl wanted to know, and Swindle answered with a one-sided shrug.

/Blast Off is damned heavy…/

/Hehe, you owe me for that,/ the tank giggled, and leant down to help Swindle up. Together, they left the shuttle's room. /So, you gonna tell Thrusters that he hugged you?/

Swindle flared his field, putting his displeasure into his signature. He didn't find it funny. /I'm not suicidal./

Brawl laughed again loudly. It echoed in the hallway. He didn't answer over comm any more. "Right, you're not Vortex!"