A/N: Oh this is gonna be fun... I don't know where this all keeps coming from.

Crack 4, fan-service second cousin of crack 3

Being stuck in a cave was one thing, being stuck in a cave with a certain claustrophobic seeker was another thing entirely.

The avalanche and resulting cave-in had been unexpected but not unaccounted for in tactics discussion before the battle. The limestone strata beneath their feet had been a major hazard to take into consideration. Limestone in the earth was notoriously unstable, especially in areas of underground water activity. The water would cut away and dissolve the stone until nothing but a sinkhole would be left, ready to take them all under. It was a risk but they couldn't exactly stand by and let the Decepticons run wild just because they were afraid to loose their footing.

The results had been... unstable.

Optimus Prime lay on his front, body blackened with charred earth and the dark mud of the surface. The rocks at his sides cut like razors and he could hear the thin sound of running water as he strained his audials to the echoing quiet around him. Trying to sit up only ended with him on his side, more rocks under his armor and lots of pain. He could still sort of feel his legs, a dull pain of awareness, but the motor relays weren't responding properly, if at all. Lurching back onto his front in a futile attempt to move himself he could almost hear Ratchet yelling at him for it. It was no use but his flailing did bring several things to his attention. The first being that the low walled cavern itself, most likely created by the washing out of limestone, was illuminated by strange strings of greenish light. He took a little time to stare bemusedly at the tiny lines of bioluminescent bacteria that lit the makeshift ceiling like stars. Organic life always amazed him with it's various forms and methods of survival. The second thing he noticed, brought to light under the emerald glow, was that the armor of one of his legs was crushed beyond any repairs he could make himself and several fuel lines were exposed or kinked and perilously close to being torn by the surroundings. If those major lines were wrenched out and ruptured he would bleed out long before his troops caught wind of his automatic distress beacon.

The third thing he noticed in the dim was the grey-white form of a certain seeker and his bent back wings and bright red optics.

Starscream stared angrily at the other, wincing as his bent wings ached. There'd be no getting out of this now, not stuck in this cavern with the roof caved-in and his wings out of shape. He'd been awake for quite some time now and if it weren't for his intact chronometer and the glowing bacteria on the rock he was sure he'd have gone mad by now. His chronometer assured him that time and space really did still exist and the fluorescent bacteria created the illusion of a starlit sky above his head so long as he didn't think to hard about it, which was no easy task with a processor like his. He sat there with his knees drawn up uncomfortably close as he watched the Autobot try to look unapproachable. That was another reason he was still sane, even in the worst of the dark cramped damp and rock, he wasn't alone. He could hear the others systems running quietly and it was that sound that anchored his mind to reality. It was also the reason he hadn't killed the fragger, he needed that sound.

So he did the only thing left to him, he glared.

Optimus shifted on his front, carefully trying to keep the quiet Decepticon in view. His feet were a muddy mess half submerged in some kind of small underground stream, the kind of stream that was so pure a human could drink from it without side effects. His weapons systems were offline, not that they'ed do much good other than causing another collapse and getting them all killed. Starscream seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as his weapons were also off-line. He wondered why the Decepticon hadn't tried to kill him at some point, hell, he'd have very little work to do if he wished to.

Starscream fidgeted, picking dirt from under talons and eyeing the other mech suspiciously, having long ago taken stock of their collective dysfunction. Optimus was in no position to move around let alone hurt him. He twitched his bent wings with a hiss, contemplated constellations out of the false stars and their glow on the rocks, preened his claws and feet and even managed an internal debate on the physics of numerous different paradoxes before he'd run out of things to think about other than the walls collapsing in on him. It had only been about an hour and he'd already worked out how to marry quantum mechanics and the theory of relativity as well as the mystery of the Bermuda triangle in concern to lost human transports and how to blow up the sun in a way that one could harvest energon from it; he filed that one away for later.

Nope, still only an hour.

Besides, knowing his glorious leader it would be the Autobots who found them, it wouldn't be the first time either. He lamented his fortunes with a sigh as he sat further into the rock and tried to occupy himself, he needed a distraction and badly.

Optimus couldn't help but stare as the seeker sighed and continued to do nothing but twiddle his thumbs. He supposed it had something to do with the inherent claustrophobia of seekers. He watched the other fidget as he tried to bend himself enough to reach his legs and try some form of repairs. Starscream shifted to the sound of laboring systems as he watched the other mech wriggle on the ground with no luck. If he kept moving around like that he'd sever a line in his leg and bleed out and the Autobots would blame him for it. That wouldn't be pretty. He focused on the sound of the others systems in the dark and listened as hard as he could, it helped but barely. That was the problem with a mech like him, he had a constant need for mental and physical occupation, something to set his mind to and work his hands with, it was the crutch of his constantly active mind. He scooted forward, there wasn't enough room to stand so he stayed low on his aft as he dragged himself slowly, jerkingly forward.

Optimus felt something at his side, too busy trying to manipulate himself into a better position to have noticed it earlier. He froze and turned to look at the seeker that was now sitting right at, if not on, his side. He stared in shocked silence at the other and the look on the mechs face promised problems if he were to point out "the elephant in the room" so to speak.

It was either go mad or do something, anything to keep his mind off the rock around him. If that "anything" included repairing an enemy just so he could get his sensors on another living mech to keep himself sane than so be it. He set clawed hands on the mechs back and gave the other a look that just dared him to say anything, anything at all. Unrolling a scroll of tools from his subspace Starscream set to work repairing the mechs legs with a single minded focus more often found in well programmed drones. Optimus hadn't known what to expect when the seeker, the most infamous of them as well, had scooted up to him with the look of a kicked turbo-puppy that quickly morphed into the image of absolute put-upon cynicism. He lay quietly, watching the other work in silence and wondering just what he was up to. The seeker let his touch linger on his armor as he worked. The dock-worker from vorns long passed pointed out that the mech might be trying to cop a feel off him. The more sensible half remembered that this was a seeker, a model notorious for claustrophobia and the need for tactile stimulation. Starscream was relying on him not to speak, not to point out just who they were and where they were so he could keep up this ruse and not go mad in the dark confines of the underground. He allowed it, out of sympathy for the other and the boon of having his broken legs tended to.

It was hours before he heard the first faint radio transmissions from his men, they were closing in. He fine tuned his radio and attempted to deliver a response.

"Underground cave collapse. Starscream is here too, no threat currently, proceed with caution."

There was static and fuzz over the radio, wether they'd received his transmission or not he'd done all he could. Hopefully they would get the message and know to dig carefully, he'd hate to see what would happen with the seeker if the walls started shaking. There was a series of low clicks and croons from the mech as he worked, sealing lines and patching his broken sensor-net, the seeker would throw the useless bits of his charred armor over his shoulder as he welded and stitched. Optimus was sure he would be screaming if not for the broken relays.

Starscream fidgeted again, cleaning more blood and imagined muck from under his claws. He had no idea how long he'd spent patching the other up and repairing neural lines but he could hear chatter on his radio and whispers of comfort along the trine bond. It made the enclosed space bearable but as he looked on his handiwork he realized there was nothing he could do about the rest of the damage without better equipment. He stared at the wounds, proud of his flawless work, and lamented his genius. Had he been any other mech he was certain the repairs would have taken the whole of the time until rescue, now he was stuck in his head again. He flexed his clawed toes in the muddy stream bank and even his innate disgust for all things squelchy couldn't distract him. Looking down at his feet he thought to clean them but the position in such a cramped place would be impossible and that just lead down the wrong path of thinking. It got to the point where he could only be thankful that there was another pair of feet perfectly within reach.

It started as a faint picking sensation at the very tips of his feet, a small feeling that managed to be relayed along his restored secondary sensor net, like the beak of a bird prying at his armor. Shifting carefully, mindful of his now working sensors, he tried to see what the mech was doing. The pick, or whatever it was that Starscream was using, had gotten under the armor plates of his left foot and he jerked.

"Disgusting, do you have your medic bathe you and they all take turns? Stupid Autobot mudslogger..."

Starscream grumbled under his breath as he picked into the hidden pockets of mud and grit under armor plating.

"Sparkling needs someone to wash his feet for him?"

This was getting better, he was almost getting angry enough to overlook his current predicament. Like he always said; don't get scared, get angry.

"Rust bucket spawn of a glitched up file-and-fax!"

He couldn't quite catch a lot of what the other mech was saying, it was a well kept secret of his but he was ticklish and that pick and those claws were getting everywhere. He huffed dirt away from his vents in a vain attempt to keep his composure, once upon a time one word would have shattered the illusion they'd built up for mutual safety, now he doubted any words would be heard. A thin pick and pointed claws worked their way up his ankle struts and under the plating of his calf as he squirmed and made distressing sounds that Starscream either couldn't hear or refused to hear.

"Shut up and hold still you rusted cod-piece!"

Starscream grabbed hold of his foot and maneuvered himself on top, cussing all the way as cascades of mud were washed away into the once clear stream at his feet. He jerked his foot again, held in place by an irate seeker on a mission and his own broken back.

Oh if his troops could see him now.

He shuddered at the thought and just how possible it was with his men out looking for them; what would be worse? If they were found by Autobots or Decepticons?

What would Megatron say!?

"Starscream- I- Stop-" Was all he got out before the deranged seeker pulled his leg back and started scrubbing with a bristle brush from his kit. Optimus couldn't help it, his calfs were sensitive. He squirmed as best he could, trying for all his might not to burst out laughing as the seeker practically sitting on his aft declared war on the grit under his armor, hissing and spitting all the while. Halfway through his internals had started to overheat and Starscream had replaced the brush with cool stream water and fine claws. Positioning himself carefully, knees on the junctures of Optimus' thighs and aft, Starscream started to meticulously clean between the plates of his back and spinal struts, lost in a world where nothing but unwanted grit existed. Optimus startled himself with a purr of his engine as the other descended the curve of his spine. Working under panels and around wires the seekers claws grasped grit, washed out mud with stream water and caressed sensors under armor to high alert.

"Starscream-"

"Whiney Turbo-puppy!"

His shout was interrupted with a full on screech and a cuff upside the head, complete with all the arrogant vehemence of a lord interrupted from his most important duties by the lowliest of servants. The outburst was followed with so many insults and threats of inventive bodily harm that he couldn't get a word in edgewise no matter how hard he tried. He blushed and thanked Primus for his battle-mask as Starscream's claws came to the curve of his aft and started creeping under armor. Wiggling about only managed to get the mechs claws in deeper and his back to protest as the madmech's spindly digits started to get disconcertingly close to certain cover panels.

Slag the mud, slag the seeker, slag the rock! He needed help now!

A thin set of claw tips wormed through wires to a spot right next to his valve and it was all he could do to choke back any unfortunate noises. His engine humming and his face stained with energon he dare not try to wriggle free with the mechs fingers practically in his aft on their single minded mission to remove every speck of grit that had ever gotten under his armor. He jolted with a yelp as the seekers claws brushed against a cluster of wires and mass, the flier berating him for it with another string of curses.

Optimus, pleas for mercy unheard, could only think to send a frantic message along the radio lines before claws got into his hip joints.

"Help!"

His prayers were answered with the almighty shuddering of rocks and water as the roof collapsed to reveal the plating of a large green and black hand that grasped his. The shaking however had snapped the seeker out of whatever single-minded frenzy he'd entered and promptly went from cleaning into jolted clinging for dear life with every hooked instrument he had on his available limbs. Optimus howled as claws dug into his aft and legs and refused to budge even as he and his seeker spacebarnacle were hauled out into the light. Upon being hauled out his legs gave out from under him and his men gathered from their efforts pulling him out only to stop short and stare at the seeker stuck to his aft. Shaking, bent wings flat against his scraped up back, claws dug in under and into armored plating and eyes wide, it was obvious that Starscream was not inclined to move at any point in the near future until he'd gained his bearings. His men were, for once, rendered quite speechless as he lay on his front. Jazz looked like he'd found someone's porn stash hidden under their berth and Mirage was quickly turning an interesting shade of purple as Hound, Optimus still latched onto his hand, sputtered and hiccuped.

"What in the name of-"

There was the sound of jet engines as one of the seekers found them, it looked to be Thundercracker who had sniffed them out, swooped in low among shocked laser fire and a piercing howl of pain to fly off with a rather traumatized looking Starscream.

Still holding onto Primes aft plating, sans Prime.

"Don't look!"

It took only a few hours and a lot of shying away to escort their essentially pants-less and back broken Prime to base where Ratchet would finally be able to fall all over himself laughing when Firstaid pointed out his perfectly clean foot. No amount of "I am the leader" looks would be able to wipe the smile off Jazz's faceplates as he was debriefed.

It took a lot of reassuring cooing and cuddling in a berth full of his trinemates before Starscream had calmed down enough to be seen properly by the Constructicons who would later question him about the clawed red plating still clenched in his servos.

Megatron would have been furious with his failure to kill Prime were it not for an auspicious gift on his behalf later during the meeting. Said gift was soon mounted on the wall behind Megatron's throne on a huge decorative purple commemorative plaque and became quite the centerpiece during future negotiations with the Autobots.