Author: gatekat and ace_of_the_arts on LJ
Pairing: Clamper/Sideswitch
Rating: R for mech/mech
Codes: Slash, Sticky
Summary: Whiplash has his first patrol with Killquick and is introduced to some of the harsher realities of the Outsider world.
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page ( gatekat-fics .livejournal .com/290 .html ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.
Notes: Set in the same verse as Everything You Never Wanted to Know ( a-o-t-a .livejournal .com/tag/series%3A%20everything%20you%20never%20wanted ) by ace_of_the_arts, though an AU to it.
klik = 1 minute; breem = 8.3 minutes; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles
~text~ comm chatter
Among the Hidden 04: Among The Outsiders
Guilty optics and guiltier consciousnesses followed them, or pointedly didn't follow them, wherever they went. Some watched them warily while others found some place else to be. Killquick could scent their guilt and in it's own way, the fact that he could make these Outsiders nervous simply by walking down the street was gratifying. He had power over the criminal element, and it was power, even if he couldn't use any other arena. Despite the pleasure he received from it, this time was more for Whiplash, a mech that he thought would have much the same feelings as him, so he kept a optic on the rookie, watching him watching the Outsiders, taking in the sights.
~They're all so guilty,~ Whiplash commented silently. He was holding his chassis perfectly, optics visibly sweeping the area as he walked at his mentor's side. ~How much do we really need to get one to confess?~
~More than we can manage get on most of them,~ Killquick responded, ~at least on patrol.~ Picking up something off on the edge of his range, he flicked his sensor wings... and realized with disgust that is was just a pair of mechs interfacing down the alley.
~We don't care about that?~ Whiplash asked. For all he had the entire legal code uploaded before he'd been activated, how to apply it was very much a learned skill.
~We're supposed to...~ but it didn't change anything, not to mention that Killquick was a little squeamish when it came to interfering in the activities of Outsiders who interfaced in public. Those ones as often as not had a certain set of interfacing upgrades that made him shy away. Killquick hid a shudder. They did have them. ~Disgusting.~
~Illegal ... but don't most mechs interface?~ he asked, looking at the pair. He didn't see the appeal to the activity, but he couldn't label it disgusting either.
~They are not supposed to do it in a public area,~ Killquick clarified wryly, ~and it is not the interfacing itself that I find... distasteful, but it is not a public act that just anyone should see.~ After a moment he added, ~I admit that I am rather biased against the organic inspired spike and valve interfacing.~ A wing twitched at having to say it.
Revulsion twinged in his spark as the two continued, unheedful that they were being watched.
Whiplash nodded and strode forward, giving a sharp whistle for their attention.
The couple startled, immediately drawing back, trying to hide what they were doing, even though they had already been caught, but they unbalanced and toppled over into a heap. They scrambled to separate themselves but Whiplash was already looming over them.
Killquick hung back but despite his squeamishness when dealing with this kind of thing he got a grim sense of amusement out of the startled, shocked, and horrified looks on their faces as they stammered unintelligibly. A small sense of gratitude that he had a patrol partner so willing to deal whit it crept up for him too.
"You are both clearly aware that you are violating section 519, clause 183 of the Praxian penal code," Whiplash informed the pair. "You ID ping as Clamper and Sideswitch. Do you confirm those designations?"
With wide optics, they both nodded mutely, though Sideswitch's soon began darting around as though looking for an escape route. Clamper in contrast seemed to have shrunk, wings dipping downward in submission, long, delicate looking claws tapped against each other in his anxiety.
"A verbal or comm acknowledgement is required," Whiplash said, "Do you confirm you are Clamper and Sideswitch?"
Clamper's nervous tapping froze immediately and he seemed to make himself even smaller, "Yes, Enforcer. I am Clamper."
Sideswitch's wings moved up aggressively and with the same aggression in his voice, he gritted out, "Sideswitch, Enforcer."
Whiplash made no outward reaction to the aggression, but Killquick caught his absolute willingness to destroy the mechs before him if given cause. He had little doubt that Sideswich felt it in Whiplash's field. They were more than close enough now.
Yet the rookie followed his script smoothly, pinging the main database for their criminal records.
For Clamper, what came back was a somewhat long list of repeating minor infractions that most mechs tended to pick up at some point in their life times, though perhaps a few more relating to interfacing than usual. Sideswitch...
Sideswitch was a surprise.
The belligerent mech was practically clean, with waived infractions, but he was also a minor noble, young enough to not have many responsibilities but old enough be on a loose enough leash that he could get away with slumming like this. When Killquick realized this, his immediately cautioned Whiplash. ~Careful with Sideswitch,~ he hissed over the comm, any personal issues put aside over the problems that something like this could cause. ~Step carefully, we don't want to antagonize the nobility.~
A growl replied on the comm before the rookie gave a wordless klik of understanding. Yet to the mechs before him, Whiplash remained impassive as he considered his options and what he wanted out of this encounter. He had what he wanted, really. He'd shown his partner he was willing to do what made the older mech uneasy. Whether he cited these mechs, fined them or even dragged them to a cell was of no importance to him.
"Noble Sideswitch," he addressed the mech attempting to intimidate him. "Your record indicates it is pointless to cite you. I request that you attempt to be more circumscript in your liaisons in the future, however."
Sideswitch ignored the sudden bristling of the mech beside him and some of the belligerence gave way to arrogance instead. His head tilted slightly upward, sensor wings flicking in aggravated dismissal. In a strange mating of expressions, a sneer joined the snarl on his face. "I will," he said shortly, rather giving the impression instead that he would do as he pleased, when he pleased, how he pleased, with all the arrogant entitlement of a noble sparked.
Unnoticed by the noble, Clamper's delicate looking claws flexed as he stared steadily at their sharp tips.
It did not go unnoticed by either enforcer, however, yet it was Whiplash that chose to do something about the sensation that the mech was now a safety hazard. "Clamper. You will come with us."
A dangerous concoction of quickly beaten down hurt, helpless anger, and fear flashed across Clamper's face and his hands balled into fists. His already low wings sank even further. He bowed his head in acquiescence, hands trembling slightly as he followed the motion of the nearer enforcer to leave the ally. He walked in front and between them for three blocks, out of sensor range of the noble, when the enforcers stopped.
"Clamper," Whiplash spoke evenly. "While your anger is understandable, assaulting a noble would cause you nothing but grief. Find a less illegal outlet."
"Understandable?" Clamper asked in a frighteningly calm voice, but the way his optics blazed spoke of the way his emotions roiled just beneath the surface. "Understandable?" he repeated, his facade of calm cracking. "What do things like you know of anger?" he hissed, something wild burning in his gaze. His wings snapped up, flaring wide, "What happened back there... Don't you dare tell me that it is 'understandable'!"
He grit his dental, claws flexing once more but he turned and, instead of attacking the enforcers, slashed at the nearest wall. The fine points of his fingertips biting savagely and deeply into the surface, ripping and tearing at what should have been a solid structure. Clamper struggled to contain himself, the shaking from earlier manifesting itself once more, throughout his entire frame. He leaned against the wall, the front of his helm resting against the once smooth surface. "I hate them," he hissed, voice shaking with strangled rage, rage at the noble, rage at himself, "and I just..." Loathing settled over him.
A fractional pause and Whiplash pinged the database for those close to Clamper that would be suitable to come and ensure the mech did nothing ... stupid, but he was unpleasantly surprised. There was a short list and all but one of the designations had been, at one point or another, marked deceased. There was no one left, besides one mech who was noted as being "out of town on business."
Killquick grimaced. ~Is is any wonder that he is so unstable,~ the elder Vision murmured to the younger one, feeling something resembling pity for the emotional wreck, despite the fact that he was an Outsider. Outsiders might not have the same need for the kind of social order that his kind did, with their chaotic unsteady social relationships, but they were still largely social creatures. If the only person that Clamper had for support was gone then it was surprising that he wasn't getting into more trouble. Knowing that it might not occur to him Killquick decided that he should probably offer his suggestion. There was a difference between seeing what a rookie could do and how he handled himself and leaving him to flounder in the field. ~We should escort him to a medical center so that he can be looked over,~ Killquick saw the wild look in the mech's optics in the way he trembled, ~It is likely that Clamper's indiscretions are directly related to his instability. A search for companionship.~ It wasn't healthy. Killquick felt contempt for a mech who would leave someone alone.
It just wasn't done.
Whiplash nodded and reached for the shaking mech, though he did keep his professional demeanor intact; this was part of their duties as well, to ensure that those in need got to where they needed to be. "We will escort you. There is no need to be alone."
"He speaks the truth," Killquick said, stepping forward when Clamper's expression remained a mad, trapped look in the face of Whiplash's overtures. Clamper's optics flicked between him and Whiplash and the insanity faded a bit, covered as frustration bloomed anew, intertwined with resignation.
He held up his hands, palms up in surrender, "I will do as you say." Strangely, Killquick caught a flicker of relief in his voice. Relief that the decision was being taken away from him?
~You lead, I'll follow?~ Whiplash commed the senior officer. ~What of the local temple? He needs mechs who will listen to him. He is not damaged. My files indicate the medical center will turn him loose after a few joor, an orn at most. The temple will not turn him out.~
~Yes,~ Killquick replied calmly and stepped into the transformation lane of the road to take his alt mode.
"Follow officer Killquick," Whiplash instructed. "I will follow you. We are going to the district temple."
"The temple?" Clamper repeated slowly, as though disbelieving before something seemed to connect in his processors. The flicker of relief showed through even more clearly and his frame relaxed some. "Stratum?" He... liked the temple.
Memories of the place always brought him a sense of peace... The tension that strung his frame lifted in the memories of that temple.
He followed behind Killquick, his thoughts turning inward. He wondered why he had never returned there since... far too long ago.