Yea yea, blah blah, updates take forever from me.
Make no mistake i am actually working on ALL my fics, whether physically or just mentally (as in the case of Legacy), but progress is slow because my graduation semester of uni is kinda critical and important so longer waits, sorry, you'll just have to suck it up.
That said, i promised shorter chaps and more frequent updates, but looks like ai suck at shorter chaps, so it's same-old same-old here with a standard 11,000 something words.
And like... not even as much happens as I was planning, but i think you'll like it anyway.
Oh yea there's some smut, but nothing of great detail im afraid, sorry XD
Yea i'll shut-up so you can read now cause i cant think if i meant to say anything else here XD
Oh, except this story has maybe one or two more chaps to go before its finished but yea .; That could change, idk.
OH, ALSO, YOU HAVE LAURA, TV AND RIVIAN TO THANK FOR ALL THE SEEKERY, AERIALBOTY AWESOMENESS. My gestalt is love.
~Death Out
The flaming seeker came towards him, and he couldn't move… he hurt all over and he was completely immobile, chest plates torn open, spark bare, and he could do nothing to defend himself.
"Mine, I will have you, I will take you, forever, forever mine, it is meant to be, it is destiny"
The insane litany from the golden, flaming, mutilated jet seemed to ring right through his CPU as the pain of radiation throbbed through his exposed core. He tried to cry out, but his vocaliser failed him, and he trembled in horrified fear as Sunstorm bore down on his prone form, bearing his own blazing spark, lowering himself, claws digging into Bumblebee's wings, agony shooting through his sensor net.
Stop, no please! Don't do this, Primus please what did I do? Stop, stop, it hurts, primus please STOP!
Bumblebee's vocaliser came online again as the insane, flaming golden seeker's spark met his own and he screamed in agony.
"HOIST, I NEED THAT ANAESTHETIC ADMINISTERED NOW! His spark isn't strong enough to withstand the sensory barrage from all the damage yet! He's going to go into critical shock-"
"Ratch I've got the clamps, starting on the line damage now… Primus half his spark casing is slagging melted…"
"I know Wheeljack, I'm working on it…Perceptor, keep an optic on those readings, make sure the spark-pulse doesn't drop below 20 per klik, if it does, ready the static pads."
"Shhhh, It's OK Bumblebee, it's OK, we'll get you fixed up, you just go into stasis now and we'll do the rest…"
Bumblebee focused on the cool, well spoken vocals of Hoist as the mech inserted a line into one of his primary medical ports that initiated his shut-down protocols. He heard himself whimper as though from a long way away, the pain all consuming and Hoist's masked and visored features swam unclearly before his optics. He dimly felt one of the structural engineer-cum-nurse's servos stroking soothingly over his helm crest, and then everything went black and fuzzy and he stopped processing.
The twins sat in a corner, helm to helm, leaning into each other's sides with identical shell-shocked expressions the likes of which had only ever been seen on them when one or the other was half slagged and in the med-bay under Ratchet's tender ministrations.
After First Aid had quickly patched up the worst of their jet judo injuries, they'd been kicked out and told to go refuel (and they would have argued had the bot ordering this not been Swoop, who it was futile to argue with). They had contemplated grabbing some cubes and holing up in their quarters until word of Bumblebee's condition reached them. But neither could quite bear the thought of being isolated with their anxiety.
So they sat in a corner with two full cubes, unable to drink anything while their tanks roiled with worry. They silently exchanged reassurances through their bond, and after about half a cycle they were glad they had stayed in the commissary, even if they talked to no one and none dared approach them.
Jazz and Prowl entered, the latter's door-wings drooped lower than they'd ever remembered seeing and the former's visor only glowing dimly.
They spotted Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and made a b-line right for them, the Lamborghinis instantly moving to accommodate them both at their booth.
Sideswipe slung an arm over Jazz's shoulder as he slumped in the seat with a sigh of his vents. Sunstreaker shuffled close enough to Prowl to keep their plating in contact as he sat beside him and rubbed his faceplate wearily.
None of the four paid the rest of the common room any mind, even as a hush fell over the present mechs. It wasn't just so much the surprise that Sunstreaker had just expressed what was for him a great show of affection towards the second in command, it was also the fact that the four of them seemed to have known… other than them, the only other mechs who had seemed completely un-shocked by Bumblebee turning into a Jet had been Ratchet and Optimus Prime… both of which it figured would know. But even then, their own leader and chief medic had kept something huge from all of them for years… all except Prowl, Jazz and the Twins, or at least that's what it looked like.
The most distressed about the yellow minibot other than the four huddled in the corner were Bluestreak and Wheeljack, and the engineer was one of the mechs trying to save the small triple-changers life, which left a rather distressed looking Bluestreak at a loss for what to do with himself.
Normally he would be in Jazz or Prowl's place right now, drawing on the comfort of the tough-liners and their seemingly endless well of strength and reassurance in the face of critical injuries and tense situations.
But when he'd walked in and seen the looks on their faceplates… it only scared him more, to see the lost, helpless gazes on the two bots who'd always been HIS strength. He also wasn't sure they would take well to him in that sort of state… certainly not when he had so many questions he wanted to ask them.
In fact much of the common room's inhabitants seemed to want to ask the same questions. The room buzzed again with chatter, and many a furtive glance was thrown over to the corner, but no bot dared approach.
The two officers and the Twins were in no doubt the questions would come though. As soon as Bumblebee's condition was known either way, everyone would want to know. Little did any of them realise they had been so close to finding out anyway… but the 'Cons had come before they even had a chance to reveal the truth. They hadn't even gotten to the officers meeting.
"At least everyone should know from this that there's no question Bee's an Autobot." Sideswipe mumbled, to nodded agreement from Jazz, who's helm was resting on his palms as he stared with unfocussed optics on the table.
"More of an Autobot than anyone in this room." Sunstreaker intoned firmly, throwing a pointed look at the minibots sitting huddled nearby, eavesdropping on them.
Huffer and Brawn frowned and looked away, but their expressions held no malice. Windcharger immediately engaged them in conversation.
"Unfortunately, the trust issues now are going to be inevitable. It isn't fair on Bumblebee that it came out this way." Jazz muttered sombrely.
Prowl sighed, nodding in agreement. Sunstreaker gave the SIC a critical gaze before shoving his full cube in his direction.
Prowl gave him a slightly confused look, and the golden twin merely cocked the side of his mouth in a mirthless half grin. "I know what you're like. You need to make sure you stay online more than I do, it's more important you're there for Bee first." the toughliner said softly.
Prowl actually gave him a weak smile and a quiet thanks before picking up the energon and taking a small sip. It was clear though that his tanks were in no more of a state to take fuel than the Twins were.
The four sat quietly, occasionally exchanging a few comforting words or gestures, ending up sharing the cubes between them all. A slow trickle of mechs who had been repaired were filling up the common room, no one leaving, no one wanting to miss any news on the one bot that they had just fought a battle over. None of those fresh from the med-bay knew anything further about their smallest triple changer's condition, but that didn't stop their comrades bombarding them with enquiries and sharing theories and opinions on the matter with them.
It wasn't until the tired and slouching figure of Wheeljack entered that any sort of real prospect of news became tangible.
The rec. room on the whole paused and turned to watch the chief engineer (who seemed to not notice he was still flecked with energon and oil… which made Prowl flinch when he realised who's energon and oil it had to have been ), walking across to the energon dispenser, apparently oblivious to his silent and awaiting audience.
It wasn't until he'd filled a cube and turned to leave that he noticed all optics on the room on him.
It was a testament to how hard he'd been working and truly tired he was that his helm panels barely flickered a dull blue.
"Uuuuhm… Oh." Seemed to be all he could come up with on the spot.
"'Jack? He's… gonna be OK, ain't he?" Jazz's vocals broke the tense anticipative silence, and many gazes flickered over to him instead of Wheeljack… it was the most anxious they'd ever heard the saboteur.
"Oh… Oh, yea, yea, um… Bee is stable… for now. It's looking like he'll pull through, but it's gonna be a long recovery."
The restarting of held ventilations caused a great sigh throughout the room, and Wheeljack's helm fins only flickered a little brighter as a buzz started up, mechs now converging to bombard him with questions.
The poor Lancia was overwhelmed and obviously too exhausted from the marathon of cycles spent working on his small friend trying to keep him online.
It took Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stepping in to stem the flood, and they helped Wheeljack escape wordlessly, glaring at anyone who dared approach to ward them off. With the look on their face-plates, no one dared oppose.
Jazz moved around and slid an arm around Prowl's shoulders. The normally publicly closed off and always calm mech had buried his face-plate in his servos and his whole frame shook, door wings clattering dully where they lay low on his back. Jazz just lay his helm against the tactician's and offlined his visor, forcing his ventilations to be deep and even.
"He's gonna be OK Prowler… he's gonna pull through, it'll be alright…"
The whispered litany was as much to convince his himself as his lover.
It wasn't too long before Sunstreaker and Sideswipe returned, both sliding back into the seats on Jazz's other side.
The air about them wasn't urgent, but even without turning his head to them when his optics onlined, the saboteur could tell they had something to say.
They waited for Prowl to stop trembling and emerge from his servos, looking drained and tired.
"Wheeljack told us Optimus is coming to help us tell the rest of the crew what the deal is."
Jazz's gaze flickered to Sideswipe and he nodded after a moment.
Prowl made an effort to compose himself before looking up at the two. "Did he mention how much Optimus wants us to tell them? After all this was… all a rather personal matter for Bumblebee."
The twins both shook their helms.
"Knowing Optimus he'll probably keep it to the bare minimum of facts needed to understand the situation. Bee was onlined a seeker, Sunstorm got obsessed with him, the Decepticons rose, he went into hiding to escape the stalker-bot and the 'Cons and the only mechs on the Ark that knew till yesterday were Ratchet and Prime. Easy. And if they don't believe it they can go suck slag." Sunstreaker said succinctly with a shrug. It seemed like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders once he'd heard the minibot was stable.
"Ya don't seem too worried about him anymore." Jazz said with a tone of confusion rather than accusation.
"Heh, I've got experience with Seekers remember. I've slagged those 'Con jets to the pit so many times and the fraggers keep managing to bounce back. I don't think Bumblebee will have any problem." The golden twin replied reassuringly.
"Yea, and not to mention me and Sunny have had enough spark casing trauma between us to know that even just stable is good news. Bumblebee will pull through, you know what he's like." Sideswipe added, brushing his plating against Jazz's in another comforting gesture.
Jazz and Prowl both had to admit the twins reassurance was working.
They managed to finish their cubes before Optimus entered the rec. room, heading in their direction.
"Wheeljack tells me he relayed my plans to you. Do you feel comfortable with assisting me in breaking the truth to the rest of the crew?"
All four of them nodded and stood to flank him when they moved to the elevated platform off in the corner. It was where Optimus or the other officers usually stood for a crew-wide address, or where, during lighter events, Jazz and Blaster would set up their sound systems.
The Prime did not even need to call for attention. All mechs optics had been on him the moment he walked into the room, and silence certainly didn't take long to settle. No one wanted to miss a word once they figured they were going to get answers.
"I realise you're all very confused about what you witnessed today. First of all, let me make one thing exceptionally clear. Whatever your opinions of Bumblebee before or after this incident, there is absolutely no doubt that he is very much an Autobot, just like the rest of you. I will hear no arguments against this, do I make myself clear?"
He paused to watch the nods of assent, however confused or reluctant some of them might be, before he continued.
"Now, to explain what you've all seen today… Bumblebee was not, as you all thought, created an ordinary minibot. He was in fact a mini-Seeker. His re-formatting into a triple changer happened not all that long before he joined the Autobots, and would not have happened at all if not for one mech."
Prime's optics surged angrily as his voice took on a deeper emotion, speaking of the mech who had caused all this chaos in the first place. "Sunstorm, as I'm sure any of you who have faced him will know, was never an entirely sane mech. Not even before the war, according to Bumblebee. The main problem was, just before the war, when Megatron had only begun recruiting, Bumblebee was a popular mech in Vos. He was known to every inhabitant of the city as 'Stinger'."
There were one or two gasps around the room… Prowl noticed two of those who seemed to recognise the name were Bluestreak and Skyfire. Optimus continued with his dark tone, and the tactician knew he was suppressing a lot of anger on Bumblebees behalf retelling his history.
"Bumblebee at that time became friendly with Sunstorm. He used to act a lot more normally, before the war worsened whatever glitches he had in his programming. Unfortunately, it was too late before Bumblebee realised there was something wrong with the other Seeker and tried to disengage with him. Sunstorm was obsessive and dangerous, and what was more he had other seekers on his side who had already joined Megatron's following. Had Bumblebee not taken desperate measures to hide himself, Sunstrom would have forced him to bond, and possibly done other damages to him in his crazed delusions.'
'What you must understand is Bumblebee is the ONLY mini-Seeker ever recorded to exist on Cybertron. Simply changing his paint and designation would not work. To hide himself, he found Ratchet… who helped him reformat himself completely. He acquired a ground mode and had extensive modifications installed to hide all traces of his Seeker mode. Major parts of his seeker programming had to be made dormant as well. Unless you are a flight model yourself, I do not think you could comprehend the difficulty of all this… it was absolutely drastic action, but it was necessary to escape detection by Sunstorm and any number of Megatron's growing forces. Bumblebee had always been reluctant to join the Decepticons when his peers pressured him. And I have no doubt in the end Megatron himself would have sought to force him to choose, and likely deactivate him if he continued to refuse."
Those listening who's faceplates had shown clear doubtfulness at the beginning, had all started to seem more and more unsure of their convictions and opinions. Many had started sharing startled glances, and Jazz knew there were new questions forming in their processors.
"Obviously, it was not possible for Bumblebee to show his seeker form in public, lest he be discovered again. And once he had adjusted to his new life, Ratchet recommended he join the Autobots. They were both completely upfront with me from the beginning, but we all agreed, even once Bumblebee was well integrated into the Autobot ranks, there was no way he could show his original form given all other seekers had turned to the Decepticons. It was both easier and harder to keep it a secret, and he has done so commendably, up until today."
"So, that battle before today… when the seekers carried Bee off…" It was Bluestreak who spoke, with clear, dreaded trepidation at whatever answer he may receive.
Optimus, having not been present at the actual events where the Seekers had taken the minibot, turned to Prowl and Jazz on his right.
Prowl's door wings flickered up slightly, his professional air making something of a return despite his emotional state.
"From what we've gathered, the Seekers had been talking amongst themselves since the added trine from Cybertron arrived on earth. Previously Sunstorm had no reason to take notice of ground mechs, but as we all know, since warring on earth, fights have become much more close quarters and personal. Starscream and his wing mates know perfectly well who Bumblebee is, and once Sunstorm actually took time out to look, he recognised him."
Jazz stepped up to allay the still anxious looking Bluestreaks fears, knowing where his processor had gone, drawing conclusions.
"Don' worry Blue. The only thing they did ta hurt 'im was tear up his platin' a bit. We got there and slagged the suckers before they got any fancy ideas."
"So how come you all knew then, huh? You four, how long have you all been privy to this super big secret?" The gruff, affronted vocals of Ironhide came from where he was leaning against the wall scowling.
Sunstreaker scowled just as effectively back and spoke up before any of the others could answer.
"Don't get your diodes in a bunch old bot, we only found out yesterday. We had a meeting only about a cycle or so before the attack today planning on how to break it to the whole Ark seeing as the Decepticons were all going to find out from Screamer anyway. But then that fragging flaming pit-slagger attacked before we could even do that."
Ironhide was so taken aback by the bitterness in Sunstreakers tone he didn't even retort, instead looking slightly abashed and apologetic.
"So why the heck did Sunstorm wanna bond to Bee in the first place? He just have some kinda minibot kink?" The question this time came from Trailbreaker.
"No, it was based mainly in the fact that Bumblebee, as you may have noticed from today's dogfight, was the only mech completely immune to the radiation Sunstorm produced. It is something to do with the alloy used to create his modified Seeker frame." Optimus replied evenly.
"I still don't get why he felt he could tell you four before anyone else. What makes you all so special huh? Doesn't he trust the rest of us? Or is that friendliness all just a front too? He thinks the rest of us minibots are below him huh?" Cliffjumpers tone was unmistakeably bitter, and both Prowl and Jazz could tell his anger sounded more than anything like a cover for how hurt he felt. He was, after all, Bumblebee's room-mate and had been since the yellow mech joined the Autobots.
Before either the SIC or TIC could answer though, Sideswipe snorted and crossed his arms, drawing attention to himself.
"Well, apart from the fact we half saw his wings when those harpy-bots first attacked him, I thought it was kinda obvious by now that we're a unit."
The silence and flash of brightening optics that passed through the room was actually quite impressive.
Sunstreaker scowled beside his twin and looked around. Sideswipe's orbital ridges had shot up… even Jazz and Prowl were looking at him a little surprised.
"What?… Oh come on, don't tell me none of you noticed? I know we were trying to be subtle, but you can't tell me we were succeeding all that well, that kinda stuff never goes un-gossiped about."
All he got in response was the same shocked silence and dumbfounded looks.
Until Bluestreak, looking a little more confused than everyone else, piped up.
"So, wait… 'Sides, do you mean you're a unit as in a team? Or, unit as in… y'know, that way…"
Sideswipe canted his helm slightly, and replied with a dead serious expression.
"We, the five of us (he gestured his finger in a circle, denoting his brother, Jazz, Prowl and the absent Bumblebee) are a Unit, in that way. The old way. As in involved."
"Primus' pearly pedes, you ain't jokin' are ya?" Ironhide broke the awkward silence that had followed Sideswipe's confession.
Prowl buried his faceplate in a servo with some sort of mumbled oath against the red twin and Jazz's mouth quirked into the hint of a smile.
"Well, no, but I don't think we or Bee were really expectin' it to come out quite like that, 'Sides."
Sideswipe threw the saboteur an apologetic look.
"Seriously, no one had even guessed?" Sunstreaker said incredulously.
"Well, to be fair, units haven't been heard of since the Golden Age. And in a time of war, I am guessing most mechs would assume it wasn't done, given the chances of a painful loss of one member could compromise more than one mech. I think most bots don't like to assume something so presumptuous." Optimus said gently, a tiny smile forming behind his mask. He had, after all, apparently been one of the very few mechs who had suspected it.
"All the same… that doesn't explain why he couldn't have told me. I never gave him any reason not to trust me. Here I thought we were close… mech was I ever wrong." Cliffjumper muttered darkly, audible in the quiet room as he crossed his own arms over his chest and scowled.
"Now Don't go feelin' betrayed Cliffjumper. He trusted all of us, an' he didn't even tell the mechs he was involved with until we kinda saw it with our own optics. How do ya suppose he'da brought THAT up?" Jazz shook his helm. "Apart from anythin' CJ, with yer track record holdin' certain traits against a mech as bein' purely Decepticon, I can see why he decided not to tell ya. He Didn't tell any mech that didn't explicitly need ta know. Wasn't about trust, it was just safer." The Porsche shrugged, diffusing the tense air a little more.
The next question to pop up though, cut through the thickness of the air like a knife.
"So…. Wait, PROWL has been FRAGGING the TWINS?"
Everyone turned to look at Huffer, some with quite horrified expressions.
Prowl emerged from his servo with a stony grimace, shooting a cold look at Huffer before glancing sideways at the smirking twins. Sunstreaker looked about to say something when Prowl pointed at them both and growled "Not. A. Word."
It was at this point Jazz lost his control and broke down laughing, which served to completely destroy any residual uneasiness that the whole reveal had caused.
Optimus was unable to hold back from chuckling with him.
"Well, you certainly have your priorities straight, Huffer" said a deadpan Tracks.
Consciousness was slow in returning when Bumblebee finally began to online. His systems were reluctant and sluggish, opposing his return to the waking world but really unable to protest given he'd had enough recharge for his body to settle back into a good functional rhythm.
At first his audio receivers began to relay information. There were other mechs nearby in the room, and their voices were both familiar and reassuring. He let his memory cache steadily review through his CPU before anything else.
Yes… I DID face off Sunstorm… and Primus, I did do a Kamikaze run… and I… I… his spark…
He couldn't help the soft whine that left his vocaliser as he attempted to boot up his optics.
They were as slow as everything else, but once they focussed, he was well aware the voices had gone quiet, and their owners were leant over him. Jazz and Prowl's faceplates hovered over him, smiling.
He felt a servo gently touch his helm and stroke a horn soothingly and he groaned.
"Wh-…what the slag did I do?"
"Other than give us all a spark attack and Wheeljack the chance to work on a Seeker frame the way he always wanted? Nothing much." Came Ratchet's gruff voice from somewhere to his left before the medics faceplates also swam into his still adjusting view.
The look on the medics faceplate was completely opposite to his tone however. He seemed tired and relieved, still with that undertone of concern.
"Ya did slag yerself up pretty good Bee." Jazz said quietly. The yellow mech could tell he'd been as worried and tired as the medic, and likely, so had Prowl, who was still stroking his helm.
"I… extinguished him, didn't I?" The small mech asked softly, sounding almost afraid of the answer.
"It was that, or have a forced bond that could have irreversibly damaged your spark." The tactician said softly.
"Or have your spark irreversibly damaged from exposure to that radiation while fighting him off… or be killed by it. Don't feel guilty Bumblebee, you didn't have a choice." Ratchet reassured him.
"Couldn' a bared to lose ya to that maniac… you did the right thing Bee, don't be beating yourself up for it." Bumblebee could hear the pain under-toning Jazz's words, and he realised just how close it must have been.
He tried to move experimentally, gasping as sharp pain shot through his backstrut when he did.
"Ah, no… don't try moving just yet Bee. We spent so long just stabilising your spark and re-building the damaged casing and other slagged core components, we haven't quite gotten to the rest of you yet. Just lie still, I'll get you some more pain killers."
Bumblebee did as he was told, but he tried to angle his helm to look down at himself. His tanks lurched when he saw that half his plating was still removed, large patches of static bandage the only thing between his inner workings and the rest of the world. A small shiver of panic from an old programme flashed through his CPU and he couldn't help the whine that escaped him when he realised his wings were totally slagged.
If he hadn't had so much experience being a ground mech, he would have gone into a full blown panic attack right then and there. But he was still hard pressed with his seeker coding online to swallow the sick distress that came from his self diagnostics reporting how useless his precious wings were at the moment.
Jazz joined Prowl with another hand on the smaller mechs helm to soothe him, urging him to lay his helm back again and relax.
"It's alright Bee. Ratchet will have you back together in no time, just rest and relax."
Bumblebee had to admit Prowl's cool, melodic vocals always did wonders to calm him down.
"Jus' ventilate slow, Bee. Ratchet told us what ta expect with yer programming, you're gonna be fine an' flyin' in no time."
Bumblebee managed the flicker of a smile at his lovers for their efforts. He was impressed that they had adapted to his changes within such a short space of time… Primus they knew just what to say, even when he knew neither had any experience with flying models before.
Ratchet had come back and hooked up the pain killers, which had a sedative effect. As Bumblebee fell into a painless haze of comfort under the combined efforts of Prowl and Jazz, he mumbled out an "I love you guys…" before falling back into the nice fuzzy warmth of stasis.
It was another Orn before Bumblebee's internal damage was completely fixed, and four more joors after that to have his plating back to normal.
When Ratchet released him from Medbay (Or more, very nearly literally kicked him out. The only thing having stopped him being the far too well perfected turbo-puppy optics the seeker had given him), Bumblebee had gone into hiding. Optimus had already spoken to him, and told him he could return to normal duties when he felt ready.
Right now, while he would have loved to have gone right back to how things were, he just couldn't handle facing the rest of the crew.
It wasn't at all that he hadn't tried… He'd been making his way to the entrance to get some fresh air with Jazz and Prowl as soon as he left the Med-bay. They had come across several mechs who had returned from patrol to the shift change. Bumblebee had smiled, happy to see them all looking well.
Brawn, Cliffjumper, Smokescreen, Huffer, Grapple and Windcharger had all given him looks ranging from blank dispassion to outright glares or disappointed frowns.
Bumblebee had turned right around and gone to Jazz and Prowls room, and he hadn't left since except to switch to the Twins room or sneak into the rec. room for energon at night, all via the air-ducts. He would only tuck his Seeker plating into his specially crafted subspace sections to do this, otherwise he wore it out constantly, re-adjusting to the extra kibble once more.
By the fifth joor of Bumblebee's self confinement, even Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were trying to encourage him back out into the open.
"You just have to ignore them Bee. Who gives a frag what any of those slag-heads think? You're still the same bot, that's what matters. Unh… ooooh there…"
Bumblebee revved his turbines and sped up his pace bouncing on the toughliner's spike.
"I know… you're good at igno- OOOH!… ignoring it, S-Sunny… but I c- NNNNH! Just can't do that."
The minibot's wings twitched with every squeeze of Sunstreakers servos on his thighs.
The other thing that he hadn't quite anticipated after letting his Seeker programming settle back in was the interface drive. It had been doubled from his normal amorous level to being horny nearly half the day, everyday. And a little more… aggressive about it than usual.
Of course, none of his lovers had any trouble keeping up with him… so long as they worked like a tag team.
"I Thought you Seekers were supposed to be more arrogant than my brother… hard though that may be. Didn't think what any mech else thought would bother you." Sideswipe snickered behind Bumblebee where he was languidly pumping into his brother and running his glossa over the minijet's cockpit glass now and then.
The golden twin's response was a loud warning growl from his engine, but the three didn't speak again until Sideswipe and Sunstreaker both wrapped their servos around Bumblebee's spike together and the three overloaded.
"Mmmmm I love the way your wings quiver when you come." Sunstreaker murmured deeply as the three of them lay collapsed on Sideswipe's berth. Bumblebee's engine purred loudly as the gold mechs digits stroked one of his wings softly.
"For mechs so used to slagging jets, you sure as pit know how to treat one properly." Bumblebee mirred, nuzzling the two chassis beneath him. He was sprawled out on their chests, finally sated after three overloads in a row.
"Mmmmm, we know the sensitive spots, what we do to them is the difference." Sideswipe said, grinning and stroking a helm horn.
"Anyway… you should come out. If nothing else, I want to show you off. 'Course I'll have to wax you first, do some detailing to get rid of the scuff marks and paint scratches." Sunstreaker said haughtily.
His red twin pouted at him. "Nooooo, don't take away my warm jet blanket, it's miiiiine."
Both Twins jumped slightly at the sudden explosive rev from Bumblebee's engine and turbines, and his servos gripped the top edges of their chassis armour firmly.
"Mine."
The two Lamborghinis gave him a startled look. His optics had darkened and his wings were flared. It seemed to take him a moment to snap out of this odd mood. When he did, his wings relaxed and flapped slowly, optics blinkering a little, apparently in surprise at himself.
"Oh… sorry. Ugh, Seeker programming can be nuts sometimes."
The twins shared a look again. "Uuuuh…. So what nuts part was that coming back then?" Sideswipe asked, a little concerned.
"Oh, just interface protocols. Breeding rights and stuff, jets are possessive of their claims. Don't worry, I'm not in heat though."
"Breeding… Claims… wait, what? You just… claimed us? What the frag? What does THAT mean?"
Sunstreaker asked with clear confusion.
Bumblebee shrugged mildly. "Nothing that serious, just means I might get a bit possessive if I see some other bot trying to move in on you. Or if it's another flier, I'll just have to dominate them."
The casual way in which this was said reminded both toughliners just why they'd always thought jets were mad in the first place. Sideswipe pouted some more.
"So, if you've claimed us, that means we can't frag anyone else?"
"Oh, no, you can frag whoever you want, if it's you're choice to move in on them. Its only if some-bot else tries to move in on you that my programming will kick in." The beetle-jet replied calmly, wings flickering and nuzzling both mechs plating affectionately.
"Hmmm. I think I can live with that." Sunstreaker said with a grin.
"Oh, personal Jet spike blocker, cool. Have to make sure you're around at the next party where Tracks gets overcharged… anyway, if for no other reason, you should ignore everyone else so you can go flying. I thought Jets were obsessed with flying? And I wanna see you up there again, so I can turn to whoever else is watching and say 'I hit that'." Sideswipe said slyly.
Bumblebee giggled, engines purring, and poked the red chest-plate. "You mean, you're going to say, 'That hit me'."
Sunstreaker laughed as the two began arguing until Bumblebee's 'claiming' instincts kicked in again and he pinned Sideswipe to the berth to go for a fourth round, Sunstreaker happy to move when Bumblebee directed him, taking his brother's spike while the mini-jet fragged the red twin senseless.
A similar session with Jazz and Prowl the next day saw Bumblebee finally too exhausted to argue, and he agreed to come out of hiding. If for no other reason than he wanted to fly again, especially since Ratchet had given the green light for that only a joor after he left med-bay.
The minibot discovered, once he started roaming the corridors, that there were at least a few mechs happy to see him again.
Wheeljack acted like nothing was different, and Bluestreak was also very friendly, if not a little obvious with his staring. But with the re-emergence of Bumblebee's seeker programming, he found he didn't at all mind this… in fact, it felt kinda good.
While he didn't return to duties right away, he did hang out with the few bots who treated him normally, glad when they stuck up for him against others who were either openly glaring or whispering pointedly. And the more support other bots were showing for the beetle, the less others held their prejudices. Especially given any theories of him being a well ingrained Decepticon spy were falling very flat with the continued lack of attack or general 'Con activity.
By the third day out, Bumblebee was wondering if he shouldn't be going everywhere via the air vents again, but for a different reason.
"Have either of you noticed my entourage?" He asked Jazz and Blaster as they walked languidly towards the comms. room for the two to start their shifts.
Blaster glanced behind them briefly and Jazz chuckled.
"Yea, they've been tailing ya since they found out you were out of hidin'." The saboteur said mildly as the triple changer flicked his wings, both slightly irritated and a little flattered.
"What's up with that, cat? Ya got yerself some stalker jets." Blaster asked bemusedly.
Bumblebee shrugged. "I think they're back on that little Seeker obsession thing. They were fans of the head trine until they got duped by them. I don't think they ever lost that little obsession though, but it's a flier thing. I wouldn't mind it's just… I want to go flying alone for a bit, and I think if I try with them around they'll tag along and get in the way."
"So that's why you ain't been out yet? Aw well why didn't you say Bee? I'll get Silverbolt to take them all for ground target practice, that'll keep 'em out of your way for a bit."
Jazz said, brushing his digits briefly down a wing, making it flap slightly and the yellow mech beam up at him.
"Yea, do ya mind an audience though? Cause I'd dig a glimpse at those wings o' yours in action, I missed it the first time around, and from what I was told your skills are outta sight!"
Bumblebee was about to tell Blaster he was more than welcome to watch when something else caught his attention completely and he stopped dead in his tracks.
At the end of the corridor, Powerglide had just come around the corner. The red bomber had also stopped dead upon spotting the triple changer seeker.
They sized each other briefly before it started.
"Uuuh, what's the beef mech?" Blaster said, confused and looking apprehensive, digits hovering near his eject button in case some kind of fight broke out for whatever reason.
Jazz moved around behind Bee and put his servo on the tape deck's shoulder, shaking his helm.
"Ah, no, we don't wanna get involved in this one Blast-man. Ratch told us somethin' like this might go down. It's a flier thing, gotta let 'em work it out between 'em."
Bumblebee fired up his thrusters threateningly, flaring his wings and growling deep from his engine.
Powerglide had been slightly bigger than him when he had kept his Seeker mode hidden, but with his extra plating, he now matched the red plane, and even looked a little bigger due to his wingspan.
The other flier didn't back down at his threatening display though. Powerglide glared and growled from his own powerful turbines, vibrating the wings that lay along his sides so that they clattered like an overgrown red rattlesnake.
The posturing got a little fiercer, including hissing, but when neither mech backed down, it elevated further.
Powerglide lunged for Bumblebee, and the two started scuffling.
It was less a brawl than a wrestling match, each bot trying to get on top of the other to pin them down. In truth, despite Powerglide playing dirty by slapping at Bumblebee's wings, it didn't take long for the mini-seeker to top the bomber and stick a knee between his shoulder joints.
Even with his faceplates pressed into the floor, Powerglide hissed and growled, thrashing to try and topple Bumblebee off him, but it was clear from the triple changer's technique he was practiced in whatever kind of fight this was. He growled warningly at the red mech beneath him, but when the other flier didn't yield, he pressed his weight further and bit down on the tip of one of the other's wings.
This seemed to be enough to subdue the plane. He yowled and stopped thrashing. There was silence, and Bumblebee had to bite a little harder before he got the warble of submission.
This done, he released Powerglide completely and walked back towards Jazz and Blaster like nothing had happened, wings swishing serenely.
Powerglide, recognising the not looking back jet was dismissing him, went back the way he came. He'd have to go to the rec. room the long way.
Blaster looked Bumblebee over apprehensively as he returned to them, and Jazz had to poke the tape-deck to get him moving towards the comms. room again.
"So… what the SLAG just happened?"
Bumblebee rubbed the back of his helm a little sheepishly as Jazz just beamed.
"Oh, just sorting out rank… flier thing, worse in Jets like me though. I knew it was going to happen sometime, just kinda hoped I could… organise something so it wasn't so random."
"Bee's dominant over Powerglide now. See, if there's any question about who's in charge when they're all workin' together in the air, things can get real nasty, real fast. Had Skyfire explain it to me, so I wouldn' be freaked when Bee started doin' stuff like attacking other fliers on base. It's a bit like Cyber-Wolves, ya dig?"
Blaster seemed to slowly absorb and decipher the information, looking quite a bit more relieved when he saw the logic in it.
"Well I'll be slagged, so whatcha gonna do when ya see Skyfire? That's a smack down I don't think I wanna miss."
Bumblebee actually looked nervous at that possibility. "I'm… not entirely sure. Except of the fact Ratchet's probably going to be cross with both of us. Skyfire's size usually makes him automatically dominant, but because I'm a seeker, we're naturally dominant over any other form of flier. Given the size differences though… yea, it might be a longer match than that one just was."
"Heh, mind me spreadin' the word and takin' some wagers on that one?" Blaster asked eagerly.
Bumblebee shrugged. "Guess not, just don't let Prowl know".
As it turned out, Bumblebee managed to cross paths with Skyfire the moment he got to the common room. The only other mechs there were Wheeljack, the Twins, Hound, Mirage and of course, Powerglide.
Both the engineer and the toughliners knew about Bumblebee's programming and backed off a few paces. Wheeljack's helm fins flashed a nervous peach, but Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked almost excited. Powerglide however, tried to look invisible in the corner of the room. Hound and Mirage didn't even notice until the noises began.
As it was, nothing really happened. Bumblebee paused and stood at his full height, wings flared…coming up to just above the shuttle's knees.
Skyfire looked intensely down at the minijet, flaring his wings and standing still as a rock. He gave off a deep threatening growl from his engines, but Bumblebee was not at all phased. He stood his ground and gunned his own turbines in response. They then spent two tense Kliks in tense silence, sizing each other up, flexing wings and staring each other down.
The Twins looked edgy, waiting for something to escalate, while Wheeljack stopped Hound or Mirage from interfering.
Eventually though, Skyfire grumbled deeply and flicked his wings in some sort of grudging looking dismissal. Bee flicked his own wings in response and gave a loud whirr.
And that was it. They went back to their own business, Skyfire turning back to his conversation with Wheeljack.
The Twins followed after the little yellow triple changer as he got himself some energon.
"So what was that? Blaster only just took bets on this, no one even had a chance to put credits on you… NOT fighting each other." Sideswipe said with a pout.
Bumblebee flickered his wings in amusement and turned to find a seat.
"So, who DID win? What secret jet signals decided that match?" Sunstreaker pushed with a frown.
Bumblebee smiled slightly and shrugged before flumping down on the couch.
"No one."
"NO one?" The twins echoed in confusion.
"Well… both of us… sort of. We broke even. No point fighting, at least, not right now."
"Uuuuh… not right now? So then… when?" Sunstreaker asked with a frown. He was so used to the method of sorting issues out when they arose rather than dancing around until something happened, he couldn't quite reconcile the flier's ways.
The mini-Seeker took a swig of his cube and leant an elbow on the table, resting his head on his servo.
"Most likely when one or the other of us is in heat. I don't know when that might be. Could be within the decacycle, could be in a vorn or two. Unless we have something that either of our programming demands we fight for, we'll be even rank. Shared leadership isn't really common in fliers but it's not unheard of."
"Ssssooooooo… bets still stand until one of you starts wanting to frag the same mechs?" Sideswipe asked eagerly, grinning.
Bumblebee shot him back a small smirk over his cube, wings fluttering in amusement. "I guess so."
Sunstreaker gave him a wicked grin, raising two digits to the side of his helm near his audio.
"Hey Blaster."
There was the soft buzz of the open channel before the tape deck responded on the toughliners audible line.
"What's up my mech?"
"Ten credits says Wheeljack will be the mech Bee and Skyfire fight over when the jets come into heat."
The golden twin's wicked grin only widened when Bumblebee snorted and made a motion like rolling his optics
Blaster chuckled. "You cats know somethin' I don't?"
From beside Bumblebee, Sideswipe piped up eagerly to be heard over the open channel.
"My ten's on it being one of the aerial bots!"
The three of them laughed when there was a squeak, and turning, they saw Fireflight flail and fall on his front outside the doorframe before scrabbling up and disappearing down the hall.
"I'm not sure if that was excitement or fear at the prospect of you chasing their ailerons." Suntstreaker mused.
The mini-seeker dragged a servo down his faceplate. "Who's to say they won't be the ones after MY ailerons? You've never seen jets in heat."
It wasn't until the afternoon that, true to his word, Jazz was able to get the Aerialbots involved in ground combat practice so they would not be able to continue stalking the resident seeker.
Bumblebee finally felt the tangible thrill of true freedom beckoning again as he walked to the entrance of the ark, the Porsche and Tape-deck in tow.
He stood for a moment outside just savouring the air and the beautiful afternoon, before he revved his turbines and flexed his wings. Jazz and Blaster stood at the entrance patiently, watching the afternoon sun catch the gold and blue striped black wings in front of them, before Bumblebee leapt into the air and transformed.
Nothing… nothing compared to this feeling.
The air pressing up beneath his wings as he climbed, taking him higher, his main turbine powering him forward.
He soared upwards in a high arc, flaring his tactile sensors, spark singing at the feeling of the wind caressing every inch of his plating as he flew ever higher.
He didn't stop his wide upward spiral until he breeched the first layer of clouds, where he levelled out.
Primus but it was beautiful up here… he knew he'd thought so the only other two times he'd been able to fly on earth. Those moments were like precious jewels in his memories… and a thrill of exhaultant happiness shivered through his frame when he realised there was no limit now to how much he could appreciate this…
He really was free now. No more fear, no more lies, no more hiding…
Free…
Bumblebee couldn't contain the pulsing of his spark, and it went straight to his turbines.
He rolled and dived, dipping back beneath the sparse clouds and pulling up sharply to feel the pressure of g-forces trying to drag him back down, only to gun his thrusters harder and break from gravity's hold.
There was nothing like this, nothing that could compare, and he knew that after this, there was no way in the Well or the Pit that he could ever give it up again. He Didn't even quite know how he'd given it up in the first place.
He barrel rolled and loop the looped and dived, climbed, twisted and bolted back across the sky, purely for the pleasure of the thrill.
And quite suddenly, he felt an intense pang in his spark.
If only Jazz and Prowl could feel this… if they could come up here with me, join me… Primus almighty but that can't ever happen, they aren't…
And suddenly the thrill was a burning aching desire.
His turbines gave a loud mournful whine and he dove, twisting and pulling up in a slow ascent line, his core crying out for something it could never have, seeker programming flaring wide open and leaving him with the ventilation stopping realisation that he was a seeker without a trine…
And he always would be, even if he loved the two black and white mechs, even if he bonded with them… they could never share the sky with him.
Blaster was gone by the time Bumblebee finally came down, and the sun was just about set. Jazz didn't say anything when he saw the yellow and black mech's faceplate. He'd noticed the change in the small bot's flying while he watched… it had started out so beautiful, until an odd change had come over the seeker, and suddenly there was a fierce sort of desperation, and from there it had looked like all the jet wanted to do was wear himself out.
Bumblebee flickered the Porsche a small, sad looking smile when Jazz wordlessly brushed a wing in a gesture of comfort, but he let the triple changer go. He knew when a bot needed thinking space. And he knew if it was something important, Bumblebee would share it eventually.
A while later, Bumblebee lay on his own berth… back in his old room, the one he shared with Cliffjumper. The other minibot knew he was there, and was avoiding him still, but at the moment, he didn't care.
Since his flight, he couldn't shift that ache that had settled in his spark.
He mulled it over in his processor constantly, trying to reconcile the problem.
He WOULD need a trine… he didn't doubt that, but he didn't WANT any mechs other than Jazz and Prowl.
It was just not fair… Primus, before he'd had to change, he'd not been at all concerned with trines. He hadn't been mature enough to care, but so very many vorns had passed, and he was a mature mech now… an adult seeker, despite the fact he'd had to suppress that part of him for so long. And trines were a much, much bigger deal to his programming… to HIM… he wanted that, he wanted the connection, the relationship, the bond. His spark was yearning for it terribly, but it was very uncommon for seekers to create trine links with ground mechs. As much as he loved them dearly, they would never fully understand what he was.
The lure of other jets on base was not enough to sway him to seek any as possible partners though. Apart from anything, the Aerialbots were a gestalt, and while they hadn't been a very common occurrence when he himself was created, he knew enough about them now to know they weren't able to bond outside of their brotherhood anyway. And Skyfire, whilst a very attractive prospect, was not who his spark sang for…
And Powerglide?
Bumblebee laughed mirthlessly out loud. He'd barely been able to stand the mech even before his Seeker programming re-asserted itself. Certainly not worthy mate material, even if he wasn't already in love with grounders.
It took another cycle of hard processing for Bumblebee to work through his problems. By the end of it, he felt mentally and emotionally exhausted, but he thought he might have an answer… he was too determined to make it work to let their inability to fly with him be a true deterrent or obstacle.
He headed out towards the rec. room. He knew it would be packed at this hour, most day shift mechs having finished several breems ago, but he didn't really care about the looks he still got anymore.
When he walked in, a lot of the chatter died down. He acted as if he didn't notice, acknowledging those who were still friendly towards him as they waved, and smiling when Wheeljack caught his optic and indicated for him to sit at his table when he had gotten himself a cube.
Bumblebee didn't even get to the dispenser however, before his progress was halted by a harshly barked comment.
"So our illustrious seeker has deigned to grace us with his presence at last."
Bumblebee wanted to keep walking. He really did. But given the snide voice was Cliffjumpers, he couldn't quite help but stop and turn to face him.
The angry scowl on the other minibot's face told him his room-mate was still bitter about not knowing about his true identity for the whole time they'd bunked in the same quarters.
"What do you want from me CJ? An apology for being created a seeker?" The yellow and black bot said evenly, wings tense and slightly arched on his back in a defensive posture.
Cliffjumper sneered, and the look from him was surprisingly hurtful as he stood to face off the winged mech now slightly taller than himself, where before Bumblebee had been the smallest.
"How 'bout an explanation about your trust issues? If you're a true Autobot, why couldn't you have told anybody else? You think we'd sell you out to the 'Cons huh?"
Bumblebee's engine growled faintly and his wings twitched. Cliffjumper ignored the signs.
"Or is it that you didn't want any of us knowing 'cause it made it easier to collaborate with your other little seeker friends? You surprised they sold you out to that old psycho frag-buddy of your- ACKK!"
Bumblebee's turbines whirred with the flare of his temper, and before he even knew he'd sent any motion commands, he had Cliffjumper pressed against the wall with his arm across the red mech's throat tubing, pressing only hard enough to shut the mech up.
The hurt, and anger, and injustice had overwhelmed him so easily. He wasn't doing this anymore. He wasn't going to sit around waiting for his previous friends and comrades to stop thinking so badly of him for something he'd never asked for, never been able to help.
They had NO idea… so he figured he'd better give them one.
"You know WHY I never told you 'Jumper? Because I didn't tell ANY mech. I know how this place works. You tell someone you trust something secret, and they tell someone they would swear would never spread it, who then tells someone else they'd swear would never spread it, and THAT'S how stuff moves around here. I trust every mech in this room with my life out in the field. I do NOT trust more than a handful of you to keep a secret though. I'm special Ops for a reason. And information that threatens my life isn't worth risking just to keep you feeling content in our friendship."
Bee pushed off the stunned red mech, wings hiked high and twitching with stress and emotion.
"And Don't you DARE talk to me about trust. When did I EVER give the impression I gave a SLAG about the other seekers? What indication that I would ever get involved with Decepticons have I ever given anyone here?"
The mini jet swivelled on the spot, staring down the mechs who had been hostile to him since he'd come out of the medbay.
"None of you know what I went through to hide what I was. None of you. But I swear if one more mech questions my loyalty to the Autobots, I will take you up a couple thousand feet and drop you, and then you might get something of an idea of what having to lose your wings and your whole known world is like."
With a huff, wings trembling and turbines buzzing angrily, Bumblebee stormed out of the room, forgetting to get his energon, not really caring, heading towards the Ark entrance and leaving a completely silent rec. room in his wake.
No one spoke, and Cliffjumper looked particularly shell shocked.
The fact that Bumblebee had never gotten physical with him in anger was something he was keenly aware of.
In fact, the enormity of the triple-changers outburst seemed to have hit every mech in the room in a similar fashion. Sure, they'd seen Bumblebee angry before, heard him shout, seen him hurt once or twice… but not like that. He'd never reacted like a cornered animal, or really come out and spoken his mind so blatantly. He'd also never threatened anyone like that.
"I hope those of you who were holding onto your stupid little prejudices have opened your audio receivers now. If he does decide to drop one or two of you afts on your helms, I won't be stopping him."
Ratchet appeared in the doorway, Bumblebee not having stopped or acknowledged him as he swept from the rec. room looking like his spark was broken.
The medic glared around the room at the most sheepish looking occupants.
"That bot nearly went mad when he had to go into hiding. I didn't reformat him, stay with him for countless cycles keeping him sane and watch him turn into a different mech just for you lot to take his sacrifices for granted. and YOU…" The CMO turned his iresome glare on Cliffjumper, who seemed to snap out of his dumbstruck trance only to cower under the intense gaze of the medic.
"You'd do well to remember that you were the bait to lure him out, and it worked, because he cared enough about you to break cover and save your aft. He got slagged out there to keep that crazy aft 'Con off you all. I also didn't bring him back from the brink of off lining to have you lot take everything he's done for you for granted, so it's about time you all activated your memory banks and started treating him as the mech he is, not the mech you want to THINK he is."
No one in the room spoke or challenged Ratchet. The air of shame and regret told the medic that there would unlikely be anymore incidents of bias against their resident Seeker.
That, however, didn't help the mini-jet right now.
But Ratchet wasn't worried. He'd already nodded gratefully to Skyfire, who'd stood to leave, the CMO that he was going to go after Bumblebee.
Skyfire knew the small mech was notoriously hard to find when he didn't want to be, despite his bright yellow paint job.
But he, being a fellow flier, had read all the signs the rest of the mechs in that room had missed. Bumblebee had been slightly troubled even before he was accosted by Cliffjumper. His wings had given him away.
And clearly, the confrontation hadn't at all helped his initial problem, because his emotions had come through those wings loud and clear for the whole thing. The small jet was terribly upset, and Skyfire couldn't sit back and let him get chased off without trying to console his comrade.
He stepped out into the cool night, looking around and listening intently.
The air was silent… filled only with the chirp of crickets and rustling of small mammals, which meant Bee hadn't taken off, because jet turbines would be heard for miles on a night like this. The wildlife would have silenced for a while from being disturbed, too.
The shuttle couldn't see the smaller flier though, when he looked around, but he had an idea of where he would be. After all, he had extensive experience with seekers. Some things were just embedded in that frame type's coding.
Like brooding in high places…
The red and white mech began climbing the side of Mount Hillary up a well worn path. The path ended about halfway up, but with his size it wasn't hard to scale the rest of the way. He could see the glint of moonlight on the black wings above him. Just as he'd expected, Bumblebee was sitting up on the rim of the dead volcano.
The smaller mech's faceplate remained buried in his servos even as Skyfire reached the lip of the crater and sat by him.
The shuttle didn't say a word, looking out across the dark horizon. He waited for Bumblebee, knowing he'd speak when he was ready.
That was another thing about Seekers. No matter how much they tried to bottle things up, they would always speak to SOMEONE about it eventually.
"Have I really changed so much?"
The quietly spoken question brought Skyfire's gaze down from the stars.
The silver faceplate shone in the moonlight with deeply etched emotion… sad and anxious and unsure all at once, and it struck him as very much not the Bumblebee the large mech was used to. Certainly not the mech who had come up even to him in vossian rank.
The white helm cocked curiously to the side. "Why, do YOU think you've changed?"
The mini-jet shot him a sideways glance of uncertainty.
"I… I don't feel all THAT different, but when there's so many bots treating me like they don't know me I… maybe I just don't see it."
The shuttle shook his helm and fluttered his wings. "It really isn't you. I mean, your seeker programming has made a few small changes, but given it was your original coding, its more like you're turning back into the mech you were before we knew you. If other mechs aren't wrapping their processors around it, it isn't your fault. They have no reason to hate you, they're just judging you on circumstance. I know it's hard, but… they came to trust me. I'm sure they'll do the same for you."
Bumblebee finally really looked up at him, a gleam of hope in his light aqua optics.
"I hope so."
They sat in silence for another few breems, looking up at the stars.
The steady swish of wings was a comforting, communal gesture, and the only communication between them until the large shuttle suddenly began twitching his wings very deliberately with a small smirk on his faceplate.
Bumblebee's helm whipped around and he scrutinised the movements, optics flashing back to the huge mech's faceplate once more.
"…That was NOT just my name in vossian."
Skyfire chuckled and repeated, giving the small jet a mischievous grin.
Bumblebee shook his helm and snickered good naturedly back at him.
"No… that really isn't my name in vossian. Primus, its been how many thousands of decacycles for me and even MY pronunciation isn't THAT poor." To emphasise his point, the mini-seeker made precise wing movements as he spoke, dictating everything he said in the flyer based language of his old home city.
Skyfire chuckled and shook his helm, bowing his wings in acknowledgement of his defeat.
"Oh, well, surely it's the thought that counts?"
Bumblebee laughed softly as well.
"Yea, it is. But I am going to have to give you a refresher course."
"Speaking of courses… Ratchet has been talking to me today. He is keen on suggesting to you the idea of intensive flight training sessions for the aerialbots… I'm sure you're very well aware of their current skill level."
"Or lack thereof?" Bumblebee intoned with an amused smile.
"Now you ARE just being a seeker. You know they aren't that bad." The shuttle admonished, flicking the triple changer on the shoulder.
The yellow and black mech acknowledged and made an apologetic flicker with his wings.
"Yea, I know… but Primus, do you have ANY idea how frustrating it's been watching them mess around without training this WHOLE TIME and not being able to get up there and whip them into shape?"
Skyfire burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the side of the volcano and pleasantly shattering the quiet.
"Oh… My, I can imagine. I felt the same way in the science labs when I first came. I wanted to get involved in so many projects, but I daren't overstep my bounds until I was sure they were comfortable with my input. At least I got to a point where they accepted me and my scientific opinions… I suppose your predicament would have driven me mad though, if I thought those bots would even listen to me that is."
"Oh they better listen. Those jets don't even know what their wings can do yet, but once I'm through with them the 'cons won't be making jokes behind their servos anymore." The beetle said with a gleam in his optics the shuttle wasn't used to seeing.
The effect of his impressive statement however was slightly ruined when undercut by a loud gurgle from his tanks. Bumblebee's faceplate pulled into a grimace and he rubbed his midriff.
But Skyfire merely smiled knowingly. He had not come unprepared.
"Ah yes… I made sure to swipe you a cube before I came out. I figured you'd gone in there in the first place for that reason."
The small jet smiled at him gratefully, accepting the cube and drinking half of it in one go with a satisfied ex-vent. "Thanks… I let my reserves get way too low, I keep forgetting how much power turbines chew when they're online."
"And they would have chewed a fair amount given that show you put on this afternoon." the red and white flier said matter-of-factly, having pulled out the rest of his own cube to finish.
"Oh, you saw that too? I knew Blaster and Jazz watched, but I didn't really look to see if anyone else did." Bumblebee said curiously, looking sideways to catch a dubious expression on the shuttles faceplate. "What?"
Skyfire grinned impishly. "A seeker that DOESN'T check if it has an audience? You really are a special breed of your own aren't you?"
The shuttle chuckled loudly again as Bumblebee swatted him and gave him an affronted look and a rude gesture with his wings. "As a matter of fact I AM a special breed, and I DON'T have an ego twice the size of my own wingspan thanks very much."
"That's just as well then, I suppose, because there were several of us… Primus only knows what that would have done to a less humble jet's ego." Skyfire said nonchalantly, sipping his cube and pretending to become interested in the stars again.
He counted the astroseconds.
"So… who WAS there?" The beetle piped up curiously.
Less than ten, more than five. Skyfire was mildly impressed, but jets WERE still predictable.
"Well, let's see… Perceptor and I had come out to gather some soil samples for an experiment and we stopped to watch for a while. When we got there, Bluestreak and Ironhide were watching with Jazz and Blaster, and when we left Mirage and Hound were just coming out of the Ark and I'm sure they watched for while. I have to say, I was very tempted to get up there with you, but Jazz informed me you'd wanted some alone time to re-acquaint your wings with the air, which I completely understand."
Bumblebee grinned widely.
"Thanks. In the future though, feel free to join me. It was mostly the Aerialbots I didn't want getting in the way. I'm sure you noticed them stalking me, I didn't dare try getting into the air until I was sure they weren't going to follow me up and start fooling around in the way."
"That's fair enough. Usually they're well behaved around me, but I know what excitable jets are like. I'd chose to fly with a wailing sparkling in my hold rather than to try and get some free flight time with fliers behaving LIKE sparklings zooming around me."
Bumblebee snickered. "What about MECHS behaving like sparklings in your hold?"
Skyfire groaned. "Yea, that's just part of the job description now."
The two laughed and chatted a little more, and by the time Bumblebee returned to the Ark and settled himself on top of the already recharging Prowl and Jazz (who automatically threw arms around him, only partly roused from recharge), he felt a whole lot better about life on the Ark as a Triple changer.