No Rhyme or Reason

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ultra Magnus didn't mind when Arcee asked if she could accompany him to the Ark. Her presence was always a welcome one, except at the moment, she was in ops, talking with Bumblebee while he waited for Jazz to join him in the conference room. The city commander didn't have all the details, but he knew there was another incident between Prowl and Springer. And another matter was Optimus had missed a communications check-in. Could mean anything, but Ultra Magnus hoped it wasn't trouble. He would worry about it later, because Jazz walked into the room. He sat down across from Ultra Magnus.

"What happened this time?" he asked.

"Prowl accidentally shot Springer during their fight with Thundercracker and Skywarp earlier today," Jazz said. "Prowl suffered a crash during the fight, and another thanks to Springer's goading a while ago. Ratchet is not happy."

"Want me to talk to Springer?" Magnus said.

"If you think it'll do any good," Jazz said.

"I don't think Springer will listen," Magnus said. "I think he's past that point."

"Then what are we gonna do about it?"

-----

Hot Rod had a choice to make. He usually didn't have a problem disobeying orders. He knew he should, considering he'd been ordered at the beginning of the mission to follow orders, but at the same time, given the present situation, it seemed like a good time to disregard orders. He turned and ran back, throwing himself into the pile of allicons swarming Optimus Prime. He retracted one hand, revealing a spinning saw blade. He went to work, slicing with one hand, hitting and shooting with his other.

Only a couple left, and Prime was able to join the fight when when Hot Rod didn't see one charging from behind, grabbing his right arm and shoulder in its jaws. He screamed in agony as it bit down, rending armor and tearing energon lines and connections, but the young Autobot didn't fall. He tried twisting away, but it only bit down harder. His vision swam, but he managed to get his left arm up, shot at the allicon's optic with the lasers on his arm. It released its grip, only a little, and it started to drag him back down the tunnel, away from Optimus. But Hot Rod saw something flash by his own head, heard the allicon's dying screams as Optimus Prime used his own energon axe on the beast.

On his knees, Hot Rod tried to keep from drifting into oblivion, trying to ignore the pain. Prime knelt by him, retracting his own blade.

"Hot Rod, are you all right?"

"Peachy," Hot Rod said, snorting.

"Stay there while I go find our weapons," Prime said. "Then we'll go get you some help."

-----

Late evening. Jazz stretched, stood to leave his office. He hated being in charge, even for a few days, although having Kup and Ultra Magnus around helped lessen his burden, considering Prowl was out of commission. Poor Prowler. Another crash, and so soon. Maybe he needed a vacation? A short one? Maybe Ratch would like the idea? He'd suggest it in the morning, but first, he wanted to spend a little time with Sideswipe, and do something. . .recreational.

He walked out into the corridor, only to find Sideswipe coming his way, Sunstreaker at his side.

"We need to talk," Sideswipe said, dragging his mate back inside the office.

"About?" Jazz asked.

"That aft-head who keeps breaking our Prowlie," Sideswipe said.

"We can make it look like an accident," Sunstreaker said.

"What?" Jazz said.

The twins looked at each other.

"I told you he wouldn't like the idea," Sunstreaker said.

"He doesn't like the idea because we haven't explained it yet," Sideswipe said.

"What idea?" Jazz said, glancing between the twins.

"That jackass Springer keeps breaking Prowlie," Sideswipe said. "We don't like it. Not one bit. Sunny and I have the corner on the market for driving Prowlie nuts. I mean, we prank him, disobey orders, but we never pushed so far so fast. If it was anybody but Prowl, we'd both be impressed, but we're not. So if you'd like, we can make the problem go away."

"Just say yes," Sunstreaker said.

"I'm sure Prowl would appreciate the concern, but don't ya think that's an overreaction?" Jazz said.

Another glance exchanged between the twins. "No," they said in unison.

"I'm gonna forget we had this conversation," Jazz said. "So will you. 'Sides, c'mon. Let's go grab some energon. As for you, sunshine, go find Bluestreak. It's been way too long since you two spent some time together."

Sunstreaker glared. "I'm not seeing Bluestreak."

"Not if ya ain't spending any time together," Jazz said. "Get out of here. And if you want to see Prowler, it'll have to wait until morning. Ol' Hatchet ain't allowing visitors until then."

He and Sideswipe watched Sunstreaker go.

"C'mon, 'Sides," Jazz said. "Don't worry about Springer. Me and Magnus got it covered."

-----

Ultra Magnus looked at the chronometer on his desk, cringing. It was later than he expected. He didn't mind covering for Optimus while he was away, but even the city commander had his limits. Not that he'd admit to them very often. He knew how to keep Ratchet off his back. He stood, considering heading for the rec room for some energon, but chose his quarters instead. Peace and quiet and recharge. He walked down the corridor, entered his quarters, glad for the respite they offered. Kup would call if he was needed.

Satisfied all was in order, for the moment, Magnus settled back on his berth. He could get energon in the morning. Offlining his optics, he relaxed. And his door chimed. Kup would comm him, so it wasn't him. Magnus rolled off the berth, answered the door, finding Arcee with a container of energon.

"Hello Ultra Magnus," she said. "I know you were working late, and no one had seen you in the rec room, so I hope you don't mind I brought you some energon. . ."

The femme shoved the container into Magnus's hands, and shoved past him into his quarters, leaving the mech standing there, pondering her intentions. He turned around to find Arcee taking a seat on his berth, sitting down, drawing her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs, head tilted, watching him. Like one of those domesticated Earth felines. . .a cat.

"Something the matter Ultra Magnus?" Arcee asked.

"No. Nothing," Magnus said, taking a sip of energon. "Thank you for the energon."

"You're welcome," Arcee said.

"But it's late, and I know you have patrol early in the morning and I have a meeting with the humans, a Rotary Club in Portland, something about breakfast at 0630 so you should go," Magnus said.

"To the meeting too, or leave your quarters?" Arcee asked. "I'd love to come."

She stood, gave him a kiss on the cheek as she passed by.

Femmes. . .

-----

Optimus Prime could tell Elita-1 was not impressed by his appearance, covered in gore, grime and energon, half-dragging an injured Hot Rod with him. At least she answered the distress call, Prime thought.

"What happened?" Elita asked.

"That can wait," Prime said. "Right now, we need to get out of here, and Hot Rod needs medical attention."

The leader of the female Autobots gave the young mech with Prime a glance, noting his injuries. "Firestar, let's get them back to base."

Prime helped load Hot Rod once the femme was transformed, following them back to base.

Once there, he let Firestar's apprentice, Flareup, see to his own wounds before making sure Hot Rod would be all right. Firestar wasn't a trained medic, but she assured the Autobot leader she could patch up Hot Rod well enough to get back to Earth. Satisfied he was in good hands, Prime hit the wash racks. And now, a few hours with Elita-1 in his arms was all he wanted. Prime entered her quarters, slid into the berth next to her.

He spooned up next to the femme, retracted his battle mask, placing a gentle kiss on her audio, trailed more kisses down her neck to her shoulder, gave her a playful nip. And was rewarded by a sharp elbow to his mid-section for his efforts.

"Not tonight, Optimus," Elita said.

He propped himself up on his left arm, staring down at the femme, deciding on one more try. He leaned down again, kissed her neck and shoulder, slid his right hand down her curves to her slender waist, and this time, she shoved him out of the berth.

"You can spend tonight somewhere else," she said.