Prime Blood: Drift'n Away: Chapter 3

Narc was no fool, she knew Drift had interfaced before. Drift on the other hand had forgotten to ask on crucial question of Narc. Was she pure-based Rousan?

Why he didn't ask, he will forever be asking himself for the rest of his life.

The way her hands were running over his naked body probably had a lot to do with it. They moved like a pro. A pinch here, one sharp nail grazing there drew a shuttering hiss from him, and then a nip drew the "oooooohhhh," slowly that time.

Meanwhile his hands were caressing her hips, suckling at her belly and watching the neck stretch back over his wrist when his tongue dipped into the slit of her moist port. Oh she tasted better than those little treats she brought to the trees. He lapped at her sweetness.

In return, she savored the feel of his cord head in her mouth. Relished in the moans it brought forth when she swirled her own tongue over the highly sensitive tip. He arched into her playfulness. And she brought forth more experienced minstrums.

He could feel the plates in his chest fighting his processor to let them part. He hear hers rattling wanting the same thing. He just knew if he didn't peak soon (terrified they would part with the peak) he would give away his spark.

He moaned harder. She tugged harder. He never gave her a warning. He didn't want to. Silently, he spilled. She cried out in her own strangled spazaming release joining his.

And he collapsed at her side, curling her into his crushing grip. Silently they both panted realizing how close they were to doing the scared act of spark bonding. Silent they brought the heated emotions to a quell and then to rest by clinging to each other afraid to move or speak.

One palm cupped an aft cheek keeping her hips pressed to his with his thick thigh between hers. His other palm cupped the base of her neck letting his thumb soothe and rub her nape, just like she had seen him calm her upset employee. It worked again. She was melting into his touch and melding into his warm chest. Too coddled to care about anything else but his touch.

Her own palm was pressed to his side crushed under both their bodies and the other between their torsos pressed to his spark. He nuzzled her forehelm with his lips.

This felt so good. No words. Just warmth. A cuddle for two tenacious, hardened people. Both of them trying to prove themselves to everyone else. Right now, they had nothing to prove and nothing to say. He rubbed her forehelm with his cheek and gave her a soft purr. She hummed back to him accepting the soft soothing caresses.

They were supposed to calm down. His lips lowered as hers reached up. Warm, tasting exploring, reaching…. And new depth. And different kind of need emerging.

This time his touches were slow caressing each line and each dimple of her body. She let him by crooning. His kisses tasted each and every part of her body while she mewled and encouraged him further. Her hands softly gripped the sides of his body helping him to lay, and press into her while her head swam with a new soothing warm passion.

She thought he knew. The magnificent Drift, powerfully skilled warrior and skilled assassin of the Autobot Elite stealth squadron. Certainly he knew. Didn't he?

He lined his chest up to her port. Licking his servo, dipped it through the soft folds of her port chamber testing her readiness. Her head threw back and she cried out in overload. He'd done it again with only his touches and kisses. He smiled, not for his own pride, but to see her pleasured. He brought his cord into position and began to slip it in.

Something snapped in her head and she yanked his hand away as the head parted the folds.

He thought she wanted only his cord. She thought he was just passion driven and forgot. No one really thought to think.

As soon at the head completely entered the fold and was pressing the port entrance, she arched her back up making her port swallow him-

SNAP"EYOWWWWWW" he roared in pain and flew back slamming his head on the alcove ceiling with a CRACK.

His body was reeling with pain. She just went from pure pleasured high to instant reality buzzing with the loss of his touch and release of a sacred piece of her body. He couldn't figure out which head to grab or what just happened. "What the frag was that?" he howled.

And then it hit her like a ton of bricks: she didn't tell him.

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks: he should have asked.

Slowly he looked down to the cord still hard but turning limp quickly with reality. There circling the head of his cord like a princesses circlet on her brow was a platinum engraved band.

"Oh shit." He muttered the human curse this time.

"Drift, didn't you …."

"Know?" He narrows his gaze. His brain is processing so much so fast. This was Perceptor's expertise to run calculations and scenarios at light speed. On a whim… any where…. Physically I am forever bound to her. I can never interface with another without causing great harm to herself or myself. I may be able to handle a beating, but I don't go looking for one like some. Or hype myself on drugs to over come the pain while I have a one night stand. No….

He looks down to the beautiful feisty femme still between his knees. I could never harm her by betraying the ring…. "Funny Primus, very funny." She is stuck, forever bound to him. He gets off the berth and walks away from her. He has to clear his head. Still naked he walks to the cockpit and slams the dividing door shut.

Narc rolls to her side into a ball trying to figure out what to do. If they had spark bonded, like they should have first of all, then maybe she could send to him. If nothing else, she could feel him. Instead, she was alone. What should she do? Wait for him? Was he coming back?

Narc waited a good while, but he didn't come back. So she put her armor on and left Speck humiliated. She would ask anything from him, she wasn't that kind of femme to give herself away so easily. Yet she just did.

He sealed himself in the cockpit looking down at the band around the head. It bore a similar inscription to the one on Perceptor's. Except this one carried the name of his partner in the ancient language: Narc.

One night after Perceptor had been shot in the chest and reeling in in pain, Drift had no choice but to look at the wound right next to his cord slit. Luckily they were best friends or this could have gotten awkward, quickly. Perceptor was in a lot of pain, and the emergency inhibitors Drift shot him full weren't working fast enough. Carefully Drift had stanched the flow of Energon by pressing on the wound. Perceptor screamed again, "The ring, Drift, you're pinching the ring."

Drift just blinked at Perceptor in complete shock, "You have a piercing?"

Now the inhibitors kicked in and Perceptor started giggling like an over energized new recruit. Before Drift knew it, Perceptor shoved Drift's hand aside and pulled the cord head out showing him Laroura's port locking ring clamped/bound to the tip. From there, Perceptor had to explain to his bewildered friend.

Drift understood quickly why he had been warned never to interface with a Rousan woman. So what possessed him to invite Narc into his berth tonight?

He wasn't "playing with himself" but he was feeling the engraved band stuck to his body. He was forever bound to the woman unless he wanted to go through what that slime-ball did today. He shuttered.

Movement just out of the window of the ship catches his attention. Her back was straight as she stomped back towards town. He knew he had done her wrong. Even worse by abandoning her. They both had just screwed up… literally.

He'd never gotten dressed so fast and sprinted after her as dawn was breaking. "Narc! Wait!" He called to her but it only made her move faster. So did he.

Catching up to her, he reached out and grabbed her arm, "Narc! Wait!"

She whirled around and slapped him across the face with the flat of his dagger, "You can keep that!" And threw it making it land stabbed into the ground directly beside his ped. She moved on at his release.

Her slap shocked him and he released her arm instantly. That was going to leave a mark. One he really didn't want to explain. But she was escaping. He sprinted up to her again, "Narc, please. We need to talk."

"Nothing to talk about, fly boy."

"That wasn't fair!" he retorts.

Now she does turn around, "Guess what! News flash, life isn't fair." He drops his hands to his side. "Got what you came for? Good now you can go home. You have an excellent medical team and a crack shot scientist. I'm sure you can figure out how to release it and move on with your life. No damage done… to you."

She almost missed his response, "What if I don't want to?"

She stops but it takes her a moment to completely comprehend what she heard, "Come again?"

He cautiously steps forward not believe the words tumbling from his own vocorder, "I said, what if I don't want to move on?"

Her shoulders sag, "You can't be serious."

He reaches out and takes her hand tenderly. The left one that would be marked forever by the joining of their sparks, "I said, what if I don't want to move on with anyone else. What if I want to consider a long term relationship with you?"

"Then I think you crack your helm a little too hard on the berth lid." She turns and walks away. He doesn't let go of her hand and she doesn't tug. So they are stuck with this arm stretched out between them. Yet she doesn't face him. "Drift, go home. You didn't stay with me, you've only known me for a matter of hours and we have both seen what can happen to snap decisions made in the heat of passion."

He steps closer pressing her finger tips to his fore helm, "I would never abuse this. I would never cause you harm on purpose. I maybe a warrior but that doesn't make me an abuser." He comes closer and she allows him to wrap his arms around her shoulders like he did her abused employee. "You are so strong and so amazing. You protect your employees like they were your very own family. A crack shot with a serving tray. Witty, incredible deep… shall I go on as to why I loved every moment under the trees with you?"

She curls her head to his chest wrapping her own arms around his waist. "Why didn't you stay with me?"

"Foolishness. I was afraid for you. What of me? I'm not mate material." She kisses his armor covered spark, but says nothing. "See?"

She giggles. "Would it matter what I said?"

"Yes."

Sighing heavily, she confesses, "Drift, I knew who you were before you walked into my diner the first time."

"Oh slag," slips out.

"Shall I tell you I stole a copy of your image from my sire's work files for my private viewing months ago," too embarrassed to face him buries her face into the chest armor.

"Ohhhhh slagggg." He groans. She had been infatuated with him and then found out who he really was. He let her down.

"Shall I tell you how I wanted to hire you to take out some of the mobsters who use my family diner for their business transactions?…. Just so I could see you in action." she mutters and flushes.

He tips her head back to look into his optic, "You're crazy. You know that?" She took it the wrong way and tried to pull away. Instead he holds her tighter and leans into her audio, "I like crazy. Makes me feel normal."

"Oh slag," she mutters pressing her fore helm to his spark chamber again. He likes her back. Her roll in the hay for fun with a fable was becoming something more. Why was she crumbling like this. She was no weak sparked fool, she was a fierce business owner.

"Will you come back with me and we can talk about this? Please?" He nuzzles her cheek like a turbofox would his life mate. "Love?"

She rolls her fore helm against his chest, "Don't call me love unless you honestly mean it. And I don't want any of those stupid nick names, got it, Sweet-aft," nervously she teases back.

His chest rumbles, "Sure thing, Babe."

"Elick, shall I puke on your peds now or in your berth?" She slaps his while paneled aft.

Instead he curls an arm around her waist and leads her to his personal ship. "I should warn you, my partner is supposed to meet me sometime today at Speck. Please don't be surprised and maybe we should hold off on telling him, okay?"

She tips her helm up to him, "I just want to know who is telling my parents?" They both moan at that thought.

They make it back to his berth still fully armored afraid passionate urges will skew them from the topic that really needs to be covered. He pushes his back up against the berth wall and taking her hands guides her between his bent knees, curling her head back against his chest. Once again her fingers traced his Autobot shield.

"Tell me your dreams, Drift."

"One of my dreams already came true." She turns her head up to him. He smiles, "I joined the Autobots and found friends and actually some peace." She gives him a curious look. "I said some, not all. I have more peace than I knew before."

Nodding her finger trails down his chest to the area where his cord and her band lays hidden. "Drift… what did you envision your mate to be like?"

His arms cinch tighter around her. He won't let her escape during his confession. "I wanted someone a lot like you. Independent, witty, but passionate." He lets his thumb stroke her back, "I don't mean just the berth. I see how passionately you run your business and protect your employees. You love your parents and yet fight for your own way. Believe it or not, they respect you a lot."

"I know they do. I think it's hard for any parent to let their children to fully grow up."

"At least you had a family." He states it as a fact, not with bitterness.

"What do you want for your family?"

"Can you answer that first? I have been pondering it ever since I held my nieces for the first time."

"I just want them to be loved by both their parents. I want them to know they are loved and wanted. Just as my parents did for me."

If possible, his arms become tighter. "I have to tell you, I fear for my family. There's huge bounties on my head. If anyone knew about you…"

"I know Drift, I know. It's bad enough being the Chief's daughter. It's been getting a lot more dangerous around here."

"I can take you someplace safe, if you like," his voice is so deep and warm. Comforting like the tone alone could wrap her forever in his safety."Where would you take me?" Drift pulls back and smiles with a tear brimming, "My nieces. They would love you, Narc."

"You really have nieces?" He nods. "I would love to meet them." She reaches up and strokes the mark she left on his face, "I'm so sorry, my love."

He smiles, "All is fair in love and war."

She lifts her lips to kiss the mark, "Make love not war?" He chuckles turning his mouth to take hers slowly. He didn't mean to start something again. She didn't mean to encourage him…

This time making love had a lot more giggles and teasing. That was until the passion level hit that panting stage again and she was pleading this time for him. This time when he slipped within her port, her body surges and cries out his name in ecstasy. Her processor scrambles and claws grasping for something to hang onto while he pulses, surges and throbs into her… loosing himself to her.

The sparks emerge simultaneously and slam into each other with the force of a nova storm. Both are stunned by the One over taking their senses. It causes an instant physical overload which bounces and reverberates back and forth through the bondlink. Both bodies cry out while the One relishes and savors the taste of love.

Unfortunately, it can't be held forever and the sparks return to their housings. Drift collapses onto her and slips to the side so her smaller frame doesn't bare all his weight. She cuddles his head into her neck stroking the wounded cheek. His hot breath venting on her neck is wonderful.

He drapes one leg over her hips pinning her down, forbidding her from moving. Curling a palm under her arm, clamps it to her shoulder, "Mine. Forever," he pants.

"Forever," she whispers back.

It had been a long day, So much emotional energy had been spent. He slipped into stasis repeating his claim. She was a thought behind him in agreement.

The com beeped in warning of someone accessing the door panel to the ship. It shut off quickly by the override code. Drift knew that meant Perceptor had arrived.

Perceptor had arrived?

He quickly came awake and looked to his berth as the door began to slide open. He wasn't gentle as he leapt out of the berth, throwing the thermal sheet over the femme and swiftly putting on essential armor. The gauntlets and grieves could wait, but chest and pelvic were a must.

Perceptor entered the ship just as Drift panted and met him trying to block his view of the occupied berth at the back of the ship. It only encouraged Perceptor to scowl and try harder to look. Drift sagged knowing he would loose and if he fought, it would only wake her up in the ensuing physical fight. So he stepped aside. Percy saw the ice lemon yellow femme laying face down on the main berth, arm tucked under the pillow with a rumbled hastily tossed sheet covering only her rump. The strong lithe back and delectable but strong legs remained exposed.

Drift blushed under Perceptor scowl and lowered his head further. With a black palm clamped to Drift's white bicep, they headed to the cockpit area where they could close a door to the rest of the exposed ship.

Drift was no saint, but nor was he a playmech. Perceptor knew he had warned Drift about this planet, so he was sure Drift wouldn't do anything stupid. Pretty sure, his partner did have a guilty look on his face.

Drift on the other had, was sure Perceptor could read him like a book. Therefore he ignored the elephant in the room and looking at his partner, "What did you find out from your contact?"

Perceptor huffed at the obvious ploy but went along with it, "Yeah, he's selling parts to the local mafia. Wants protection, but not from them. From his mate's crazed boss. He said she cut off his bonding band with a dagger. Some strange white mech with red stripes, yellow helm tips and three swords strapped to his back helped her." Percy leaned in and scrutinizes his partner's cheek bruised in a very dagger-like pattern, "Know anything about that?"

Drift leans back, trying to be cocky and flicks a hand through the air, "Yeah, right. Does that sound like anything I would be involved with?"

"Who is the femme, Drift?" He flicks his own black hand with a yellow stripe entwined around it towards the back of the ship.

Love, I have to go. I need to open the diner. Can you come see me before you leave?

Drift's head slams into the back of the seat feeling her within his spark and mind as clear as if she was in his arms. And oh how he wants to just wrap his arms around her, pull her into his lap, and bury his lips into her neck… Staying there forever just feeling her weight against him, her spark pulsing against his in blessed harmony…

He sighed outwardly in bliss. He felt her send brushing against his spark with a graze of her kisses. I would love that, too. Any chance we could really have that?

"Drift? You can't phase me out so easily. I can knock you upside the head with a rifle butt and break into that Ninjabot trance of yours." On no, Perceptor was bringing out the big guns now, he was threatening physical violence against his partner. Drift peeked a look at his red and black fuming partner- oh crap, he meant it too.

The rustling of armor can be heard behind the door breaking the conversation further.

Drift coughs and asks shakily, "And what did you tell him?"

"I would have to talk to my partner. What should I have told him while I was scooping my jaw off the floor?" Drift was sure he saw little wisps of smoke or steam curling out of the black audios.

Love, are you alright? Narc could feel Drift getting really worried. She didn't understand his fear/hurt.

He knew he had to do something to ease her. Instead sent back his reassurance of his safety and then the reason for his troubled spark, Oh, just being interrogated by my best friend about that stunt you pulled yesterday on our contact.

He could feel her cringe and the sounds stilled in the other room for a minute. Knew the guy was bad news, she responds. Almost as bad as you.

Drift openly laughs. Percy cocks an optic. The exterior door to the little shuttle opens and the femme his heard quietly leaving. Percy turns to watch the green and yellow femme walk away with a spring in her step.

"Drift, who is she and what have you done?"

Drift stands up and turns away, "Nothing you haven't." And he cringed. Oh he wanted to kick himself for that one.

"What the SCRAP does that mean?" Perceptor barks to Drift's retreating back trying to follow him for an answer.

Drift slams the berth into it's folded-locked away position hiding the evidence of his love making. Then gathers up the rest of his armor and swords that had been shoved under the berth during the night. He kept a neat and tidy ship, for an ex-Decepticon. Wing had taught him a lot about order. There wasn't much to clean up, but Drift tried to make it look like the place was a dump and vigorously needed straightening.

The ruse didn't last, "Drift, are going to talk to me?"

"No, haven't you figured that out yet?" Finally there is nothing else he can do to distract and finds himself able to finally face his team mate, "So, where are we going and what are we doing?"

"Is any one else after your aft?" Perceptor crosses his arms not dropping the earlier subject.

Drift smirks, "Perceptor, I've got thousands of people after my armor, what else is new?"

Perceptor waggles a finger at him, "One of these days Drift… I swear one of these days you're going to make that one move, and the entire universe is going to fall on your head and I won't be there to cover your tracks or dig your sorry aft out."

Drift cocks a finger right back, "It's your aft I have been digging out and no one ever needs to cover my tracks. I leave no marks." His optics catch a single candy on the floor. Green and yellow. He swallows hard… he left one mark that will last forever….

His tone drops to a very serious one, "Just tell me this mission isn't dangerous."

Perceptor scoffs, "Tell me when they aren't!" With that, he pulls out a chip and plugs it into the "desk" like device on the wall. Planning time has begun.

Drift takes a sigh and pulls a shield over his spark to protect his mate.

~~00~~

Narc found herself mewling over last night as well doing her best to keep her thoughts from traveling down their bondlink. Now she was beginning to understand everything her bonded friends and parents had talked about. Someone was living within you spark. Unlike poor Wrongway, the abused waitress, Narc's spark mate was warm and comforting. Near ashamed that he had invaded her personal space, she felt as she walk away from his ship. She sent back that she liked the feeling of not being alone any more and she was glad it was him, a trained warrior who wasn't afraid of hard difficult feisty femmes. He sent a kiss down the link and then pulled a block up.

She didn't blame him. She didn't want to know what the assassin was up to either. Besides, she had a job to do and people were counting on her.

Coming up the back entrance to her diner, she quickly dashed into her wash rack and scrubbed both the armor and her proto-form of the remnants of her tryst with her mate. She giggled, I have a mate! Then sagged, And can't tell anyone.

A quick dry, a few sprits of perfume, and fun bobbled necklace and back to the kitchen like nothing happened last night. Like forever entwining her spark with another.

Ever so quickly she dove into the work at hand. With it being the night after a county wide festival, there were lots of extra visitors in town and lots of extra customers. Perfect. Exactly what she needed. It keep her running nonstop all day and kept her distracted from the extra soft hum now residing within her spark chamber.

At moments in the day, she didn't think she would be able to take another step and prayed it would be over. And then she would look up at the chronometer and gasp at how time had passed.

Her sire came by late in the day, during the dinner rush. She saw him and three others of his station to a table the started to turn away. At the last moment she turned back and hugged him tightly and whispered into his audio, "I love you, Daddy," then pulls back and dashes away before she has to explain her actions.

After the meal was finished, but before he left, he leaned over the counter and grasped her chin lightly between a thumb and forefinger, "Sweetspark, is everything okay?" She knows that look. It's the same one he uses for interrogating a prisoner with warmness to it. "No one has threatened you, have they?"

She smiles and waves her spatula, "I'll just poison them if they do."

A slow smile spreads across his face. She isn't going to tell him what is really bothering her, but it must not be that bad or she would be shaking under his grip. "You do that." He pulls her chin forward and kisses her forehelm. "Call your creator."

She sighs tiredly, "Tomorrow. Tonight I just wanna die of exhaustion in my berth." The bell dings and six more orders are up, "See?"

He chuckles, "I'll warn her." He pulls back and waggles a finger at her, "That white mech from your kitchen the other day. He's trouble. Stay away from him." She bites her lower lip. "I mean it. If you thought that ruffian on your doorstep was bad, that guy's got bounties on his head. Lots. Big ones. Mostly labeled DEAD. Got it?"

Meekly almost childlike she answers, "Yes, Daddy."

"That's my smart daughter. See you later." With that, he and his team leave. Narc sags against the counter and cringes.

"Narc! I worked hard on those! Serve 'em hot or cook'm yourself." Her head cook snarks back. One of the few employees who can talk to her like that because he also respects her twice as much as he snarks. She jumps to work.

That night, she didn't even bother taking the armor off. After locking all the doors and windows, she dragged her peds up the back steps and fell face down onto her padded berth. One more sigh, and she was out like a light.

~~00~~

Perceptor and Drift completed their mission of cutting off the heads of certain mafia crime bosses and their lieutenants that were raiding Autobot supply chains and extorting nice homely planets. Literally cut them off. Then Drift saw Perceptor home and back to his family.

He was greeted with huge warm hugs from his nieces and handed them each a bag of sweeties. The rest he handed to Laroura for another time.

Laroura noticed Drift seemed a bit more reserved than normal. Perceptor seemed a bit miffed with Drift. Last time Perceptor was like this was when Drift messed with one of his experiments and he had to start all over again. Three months worth of work. What had Drift done this time?

"Staying for dinner, Drift?" He just shook his head, and thumbed back to his ship. A silent way of saying he was just going to bunk quietly within. "For the girls?"

Drift scows at her for pulling that stunt. That was just low. She knew he was brooding and yet used his love for them. Quietly he mutters to her while his servos are pulled towards the domicile by two pink & black terrors, "Sure you weren't a 'Con, Laroura?"

She puts a finger to her lips, "Vow of silence, my dear Ninjabot." She giggles. He groans.

Dinner was torture with Perceptor boring holes into his helm trying to get information out, Laroura examining his body language to decipher the meaning, the twins nonstop yapping, and the ring in his chest tingling and needing to be readjusted. NOW!

"Excuse me!" He shoved back from the table and dashed out of the dining room to the waste room. Slamming the door shut, he ripped the chest armor off and yanked the cord out. Looking down at it, there was nothing wrong. No infection, no pain… His back slid against the door as he sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands.

He dropped the barrier and let his spark cry out to hers. She didn't answer him, yet some how he knew why. Such a sense of peace he got from her. A dream like wonder.

She's asleep. What I wouldn't give to know what she was dreaming about.

A knock at the door drew him away, "Drift, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just… give me a moment, okay?"

"Alright. Hey… I'm sorry?" Perceptor tries.

Drift chuckles, "Percy, it's not you. Just…"

"Right." Preceptor respects the need to be alone for a moment.

"Percy….," Drift tries softly. The peds don't move so he knows his friend is still back there. "Have… if… what if…. Frag," he finally vented.

"Open the door Drift," Perceptor 's tone is soft this time.

Drift hides away the physical evidence of his bonding and silently reattaches the chest armor. Then he opens the door. Percy comes into the small room and Drift relocks it. Drift takes his place back on the floor looking down to his peds toying with his hands. Perceptor takes the edge of the tub and watches him.

"What have you done?"

"I… I… I can't tell you." He feels ashamed for saying he can't tell his partner and dear friend. Godfather to his children. Perceptor says nothing respecting the private mech. Some how just sitting in the room together is a lot.

Drift turns to stand, "Laroura is going to kill me if I let her meal go cold."

A yellow marked hand grasps onto his white bicep halting the escape. Drift sinks back to the floor but the black bare hand with the yellow stripe around the wrist, over the back of the hand and twining around the ring finger bearing a vow in pink glyphs screams at him. Drift can't tear his gaze away.

"Do you love her?" The voice is near silent in the room.

The white helm with three daffodil yellow marks don't look up, "I-I have no idea how to answer that." Three drips from the faucet punctuate the silence. "What is love?"

"Oh Primus, you've got it bad, Drift." Percy sighs with relief almost laughing.

"You have no idea," he mutters rubbing his forehelm.

Yes Chapter 4 is in progress