Fandom: Transformers Bayverse
Author: gatekat and femme4jack on LJ
Pairing: Mirage/Alicia Rodriguez/Optimus Prime, Jazz/Prowl/Alicia Rodriguez
Rating: NC-17 for mech/mech/female
Codes: Slash, Het, Xeno (Transformer/Human), Dub-con, Sticky, Tactile, Spark
Summary: As agreed, Alicia spends three orn with Jazz and Prowl.
Notes: Written in the Dathanna de Gray fanverse (community .livejournal .com/ tf_socket_fics)
"text" translated Cybertronian.
"text" organic languages
~text~ bond/cable talk
::text:: comm chatter
Dark Nobility 21: The Unmaker's Passion
Alicia let the door slide shut to Mok'ittra's quarters before letting out the sob she had been holding in the entire time she had helped Esperanza settle in with the felinoid caretaker who had, over the past Earth year, become far more than an employee to her. It had been no problem for Mirage to lure the Praxian organic to employment in Prime's household, indulgent of Alicia's wishes whenever he was able to be. Both females were kept busy not only by the quickly growing Esperanza, now a toddler with never-ending energy and curiosity, but also a large number of orphan young from many species that they were involved in caring for.
They had settled into a routine in Prime's palace. Mirage, now official in his role as royal consort, was busy with Prime and his advisers, plotting missions that would eventually discredit many of the worst of the anti-organic movement, as well as his own personal mission to create better opportunities for preprogrammed mechs, something Prime had embraced whole-sparked. He traveled back to Crystal City and his home tower at least once a decaorn, sometimes accompanied by his organics, but often leaving them in the care of Prime who gladly assumed responsibility for her protection (and pleasure).
Alicia was every bit as busy as Mirage, training with First Aid to assist in the psychological aspects of organic rehabilitation, working with adoptive parents and former orphans, many of whom had spent very little or no time with their own species or other organics. She was at once counselor, teacher, veterinary technician, caretaker, even wet nurse to a species with compatible needs and physiology. She made good on her goal to create a place for herself, a network of mech and organic friendships to sustain her should the worst happen to Mirage, and thoroughly enjoyed requests Prime made for her company, liaisons that often involved as much conversation as they did mind-blowing sharing.
Her nightmares and flashbacks still were a regular part of life, but she was learning to recognize the triggers. Talking helped. Helping others who had been harmed helped even more. Finding that she could share pleasure with a mech without being triggered helped most of all. Even then, little things could send her into hiding, her whole body shaking with terror and revulsion: a certain kind of look from a mech, the sound of rotors, a particularly horrible case brought to First Aid, even certain scents. Perhaps most disturbing to her was that she craved bondage and confinement more than ever. She hadn't thought she would ever be able to role-play with Mirage as she had once done, but shocked herself in needing those role-plays even more than ever. Fortunately, she had been assured by First Aid that such reactions were normal, were just another part of her learning to cope and bring positive associations back to things she had once enjoyed.
All in all, other than the lack of Brisa, Hound, her abuelita and other dear ones from home, life was very good, save for the one event that had been looming on the horizon. She had shared with enough mechs with and without Mirage to know she was well enough to fulfill her commitment to Jazz, and he had sent word three orns before to expect one of his adult creations to pick her up at orn's eve.
She was packed and ready, Esperanza was excited to be spending extended time with Mok'ittra, and now she only had to find the strength to move away from the door that had just slid shut between her and her daughter, to stop crying, and find Mirage before she had to go. Unfortunately, at the moment it seemed that all she had strength to do was to bite on her hand to prevent herself from sobbing as she curled against that door.
Her socket alerted her to the Prime's approach before she felt or heard the vibrations of his pedesteps.
She quickly wiped her eyes, halfway amused at the futility of the action. It wasn't as though Prime wouldn't be aware of how frightened and upset she was. She had spent an entire year proving to herself just how strong she really was, but none of that changed that at the moment she was completely fragile. Hopefully she was getting it all out of her system now.
"My Lord Prime," she stood and bowed formally as he approached.
"My lovely, strong Alicia," he rumbled in reply and knelt, offering his hand flat on the ground to her. "Come, allow us to sooth you before it is time."
She gave him a weak smile and climbed on gracefully with a desperate sense of relief. Rather than a gown or costume, Corrente had painted her body that morning in swirling shapes of bronze, gold, and pewter infused chromananites, accentuating every curve and making her feel that, visually at least, she was in some sort of beautiful body-clinging armor. Psychologically, the look made her feel fierce and strong. As they walked, Prime's large thumb traced the patterns and found several of the glyphs the second creation had included. They were in an ancient form of the language she had not learned to read yet, and the her mech's intended had instructed her to allow Mirage to translate them rather than figuring it out on her own.
"Jazz may not be trustworthy on many things, but when he gives his word, he is good to it," Prime tried to assure her. "He will not harm you, and he will return you in three orns."
"I believe you," she said quietly. "It is worth doing this simply to avoid having Mirage simply disappear one day and come back as a mech I don't even know. But it doesn't change the fact that I've been either under his or your protection ever since the slag went down with the Combaticons.
"I understand," he said quietly as they entered the area of the palace that contained his quarters, and Strong Wind's that now adjoined his. "Even before thta you were rarely out of his presence. If our theory is correct, you will be well protected and cared for in Jazz's possession as well, even if he is a frightening mech to be near. If they are indeed attempting to kindle a new spark, it is important that you do your best to assist them. Historically, Jazz does not take failure well at all."
She nodded, unconsciously receiving his words as an order and wishing nothing more than to please him. She could be spitfire and 'wild earth woman' with him in the berth, but when they were out of it, he was Prime, and that fact had an impact on her she would never have expected. "I won't fail, my Lord," she said with steel confidence despite her fear.
"Good," he said gently, the tone full of warmth, approval and belief in her. "If anyone on Cybertron can help them, it is you."
"It could cost Prowl his spark," she said softly. "I'm perhaps more frightened of that than anything else. I know what our Jazz becomes when he loses his bonded. If something should happen to Prowl during this..." she trailed off and did not finish.
"He will extinguish soon no matter what happens," Prime told her. "If they do kindle, it will cause him to extinguish when the new spark separates if it lasts that long. He is not strong enough to survive such a processes. This way he will extinguish giving life. It may go against everything I believe is best for our society to carry a new spark, but it is a beautiful way to be sent back to Primus."
"I meant if Prowl extinguishes now, while I'm there," she explained softly, running her hands along the thumb that was stroking her. "Our Jazz said that is when he becomes the true sociopath, and not many survive who happen to be there at the time. But then again, I guess that is what I'm there to prevent. To make him strong enough to carry one last time." She shook her head at herself. "I need to quit focusing on the fear. It will do me no good."
"You are correct," Prime smiled gently at her and signaled the door to his quarters to open. "If Prowl does extinguish while you are there, which is very unlikely, it will be a very quick, nearly painless end. Historically, Jazz does not focus on torment in those first few vorns, but on body count. It is those who survive the blinding pain who face a Jazz that is out to torture his victims."
"Well, that is a relief," she said with a bit of morbid humor. "I already removed torture from my bucket list. Besides, if this Jazz is anything like ours is reported to be, the next three orns will likely be very enjoyable as long as I don't think about them too much."
"That is very true," Mirage's smooth voice washed over her as he stepped close and lifted his hands for her to move to his embrace. "As I understand it, Jazz's skills in the berth far predate his association with Prowl."
She moved easily into his waiting hands and stretched her arms out to embrace him as much as she could at his spark level, placing a reverent kiss on the seam at his chestplates as he cradled her there.
"I already have someone with amazing skills in the berth and everywhere else," the human said softly, the smile that was reserved only for himself, Hound, and now Prime and Corrente on her face.
It earned her a heady rumble of Mirage's engine and a rare smile for him in return. "Perhaps you will return with a few new tricks," he suggested teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. "Even if I can't be there, I'll always be present."
"I'm counting on it, love. Both the tricks and being there." She laid her face on his chest and breathed deep, taking in his unique scent that was pure eroticism to her. "So how do you both want to spend the next joor before my ride arrives? I for one would like to show up with both of your scents all over me."
"I would enjoy that very much," Mirage rumbled to the background rev of Prime much larger, deeper-toned engine. ~Try to make friends too,~ he added silently as they moved to the day berth. ~Remember how Miles reached Skywarp when he was captured? Anything you can learn about anything is likely news here.~
~I will, though I seriously doubt he would slip up and tell me anything he didn't already want you or Prime to know. What of your end? Is there anything I should try to prevent him from knowing? My mind will be pretty much an open book to him.~
~There is little point trying,~ Mirage murmured. ~He either knows or can easily find out anything about me. I wish we could hide everything about Earth, but it would destroy your mind.~
~Hmm, yes, let's not do that,~ she thought as lightly as she was able. ~Just want to enjoy you and feed you until I have to go.~
She climbed up his chest and pressed her small lips to his much larger ones. ~Dios Mio, Mirage, I do so love being your pet.~
~It shows,~ he moaned, an emotion she considered love welling up from him as Prime's cable connected to her, quickly joined by Mirage's. ~I look forward to your return.~
A sleek black mech, only slightly too large to be a minibot like his sire, flicked his sensor wings as he watched the Lord Prime, his consort and the organic he'd been sent to retrieve clean up after nearly a joor of interfacing.
The noble, Mirage, finally designed to note his presence to the others and he made the easy leap from the window to the floor to approach them with the trademark swagger of his sire.
He noted that the organic was relaxed and intoxicated with sharing, her mechs claiming nanites infusing her body, unnecessarily remarking his claim. She greeted him with an easy smile from her place at the noble's chestplates. He raised an optic ridge at the glyphs carefully painted onto her body. The traditional prayer to Primus before kindling and the markers indicated she was freely offering herself for their temporary service. The designation 'Little Fighting Bird' was confusing and inaccurate.
"Hello Night Breeze," the bold organic greeted him warmly.
It was very strange to hear his designation from an organic in its own language; it didn't sound right, being so small and limited, but he recognized the core of it.
"I see you determined my creator's intentions, Lord Mirage," he addressed Mirage politely and extended his hands for her.
The organic turned and gave her mech a final kiss that was long enough for him to feel impatient. She didn't speak any words, but the brain activity and heart rate gave away that she was speaking to him through their bond. She gave him one more brief kiss and then easily climbed into Night Breeze's hands.
"Please tell your sire and carrier that I hope they kindle well, Night Breeze. I look forward to feeling a new spark arrive, no matter how it comes into being," Prime said graciously, showing no hint of concern at the trained SpecOps mech showing up in his own quarters unannounced and likely undetected.
"I will pass that on, Lord Prime," Night Breeze inclined his head to the powerful mech, his sensor wings laying nearly flat against his back and nearly perpendicular to the ground in respect. "I will return her in three orns," he added to Mirage before making an easy, graceful leap to the window and out. A cable connected to Alicia as they entered freefall, stalling her panic by force.
~I glide,~ he designed to explain as sensor wings unfurled, expanding to several times their regular size.
~Marvelous,~ she said, truly enjoying the experience after her initial temptation to panic. She was so relaxed that she wondered if Prime and Mirage had given her a little extra help when it came to the feel good chemical soup in her brain.
~Most likely,~ he chuckled, his mood improving significantly now that he was away from Prime. ~You have the intentions slightly off. Is it my sire that intends to carry this time.~
~Ah, has he carried before in this universe?~ She asked, relieved for Prowl's spark, though not hiding her continued concern for the mech she considered her friend back home.
~Kindled many times, gave birth once,~ he summarized a long history of difficulty reproduction. ~Few new sparks can withstand the Unmaker in his spark, but the one who did is as frightening as he is.~
Alicia couldn't help her mind immediately turning to the beautiful Repertoire, a soft smile coming to her face as she thought of their Brisa playing with Jazz and Prowl's creation, getting into sparkling mischief, and their curiosity about the tiny Esperanza, whom they doted on as if they were a couple of 10 year old human girls playing with a doll.
She felt the startled churning of Night Breeze's processors, torn between 'awwwing' and revulsion, both deeply ingrained in him, as he landed and quickly transformed. She was still processing the landing when she found herself in his right front seat as they sped down the street.
She knew that she was slightly drugged on endorphins and other happy-human chemicals when she started giggling and thinking of Batman in response to the dark mech.
~You are reminding me of a fictional character from home,~ she explained when she felt him probe her mind for the cultural reference.
The surprise came when he chuckled. ~If I was to remind you of any organic, I think I approve of that one. Though ninja have their appeal as well.~
~Yes, that would work as well, the way you came swooping in. But those lovely sensor wings suddenly extending so you can glide, and the sweet alt? That is just so batman,~ she flirted, running her hand along one of his transformation seams. She giggled again remembering the time Jazz and Miles had come to a costume party as Batman and Robin, dragging a reluctant Cat Woman along in the form of Prowl.
Night Breeze roared in hysterics, his form swerving on the thankfully empty street, at the mental image of his creators in such a state. ~Oh, you have it good with them. Jazz is actually playful ... happy,~ he added wistfully. ~He's not here, and Prowl is nearly extinguished. This world is about to face a slaughter that would disturb most Decepticons from your universe.~
Alicia shuddered at that prospect and continued to stroke the interior of her ride with unselfconscious affection. Even in this world, it was impossible for her not to feel a fond connection to a creation of two people she cared so much about. ~I'm sad ... really sad to hear that they don't have happiness here. I'm extremely fond of both of them in our world. Mirage is family to Jazz, an adopted creation. I think nearly every Autobot agrees that we would never have won the war without our versions of your creators. Would you like any more of my memories?~
~Yes,~ he responded, driven by curiosity that had nothing to do with his actual interests.
She first recalled Prowl's little known playful side. The time he had conspired with Mikaela to 'punish' Ratchet for claiming her without the proper waiting period and consent paperwork, and the vids that had made it around base from that event, not to mention the far lesser known fact that he had enlisted the dominatrix's aid in 'punishing' his own miscreant. Or the time she had dressed as a barely-covered leather-clad enforcer and chased down Mirage with Prowl and all the fun the had ensued, and the little known fact that her payment for his services was giving Jazz the same level of detailing with Miles as her slave-boy/helper.
While she had many serious memories of the pair and their socket, so much of what came to mind were all the instances of humor and play.
She could feel, in her mind and around her, as Night Breeze snickered, heated up and hummed thoughtfully in response to various memories, not always giving the response she expected.
~How did he come to be so different?~ he asked. ~How did Mirage come to be his?~
She followed her instincts and a subtle push from Mirage to share freely. Night Breeze, like his sire, could take whatever he wished anyhow, and there was no reason not to add her own beliefs and insights to the facts he could take from her mind.
She gave the only answer she knew to the first question. ~Prowl. Bonding to him changed your sire more than any bonding prior. From what I understand, our Jazz has bonded several more times than your creator, and each bond changes him, gives the Unmaker that much less control over him.~ She silently shared what she knew of Jazz's history both prior to Prowl and after the two had met, first as enemies, near the beginning of the war. She included the changes that came after Jazz's resurrection, ones that were only spoken of in whispers out of respect for how painful they were for their SIC.
~Mirage was the only known survivor of the fall of the towers, and he offered himself to Optimus, however he could be used. Optimus gave him to Jazz to make something useful out of him. Mirage, as a second creation with a tremendously strong and adaptable spark was the perfect medium for Jazz's art. Jazz has taken the place of his house lord and creator in terms of loyalty.~
~He must be good, to impersonate a first creation,~ Night Breeze actually sounded impressed.
~He is,~ she agreed wholeheartedly, sending a wave of love toward Mirage and gratitude for whatever he had done in her brain chemistry to give her such a sense well-being and lack of fear.
~What of your Prime?~ Night Breeze asked, sounding slightly colder when using the title.
~What do wish to know about our Prime? Jazz has chosen to be loyal to him, and Prowl has always been. All three of them are close, some times closer than others. Jazz is currently carrying Prime's sparkling. Optimus ... he is amazing, but in very different ways than he is here. He has led us out of war, is building a future for both former factions. Mirage says that he functions much more as the Lord High Protector than the traditional High Priest. He is every bit the warrior Prime, but he is also a healer. He came back from Primus with the ability to heal damaged sparks. Without that, very few would have successfully made the transition to peace, I think.~
~WHOA!~ he came to a halt so fast his nose tipped down. ~Back up those thoughts, organic. Jazz is carrying Prime's sparkling? Prime came back from deactivation? Prime can HEAL?~
~Well, you did ask,~ she giggled aloud at his reaction, her mental babbling a sure sign that she was as high as she thought she was. ~I already told you that Jazz came back from deactivation. Is it so much harder to believe that Optimus did? Our Prime can kindle with any mech. He and Jazz wanted to see what would come of ... their particular strengths in a sparkling.~
~Yeah, but Jazz is Jazz. Prime's just a Prime,~ he countered as he started forward again, his processors still in an uproar. ~What's with the healing?~
She laughed aloud at his explanation. ~Optimus is far more than just a Prime, as you put it, and I could really blow your processor and tell you it was an organic of my species who brought both of them back after coming back himself. Sam happened to destroy the Allspark in Megatron's spark, killing him in the process, and absorbed some of its energy. Megatron came back, too.~
This time he was ready for her and kept driving, though he was even more stunned, especially that she seemed to be telling the literal truth.
~I don't fully understand the healing part. That is Abuelita's area. But the way Hound described it, the normal pain, loss, violence and violation of war leaves sparks physically wounded. Optimus doesn't fully heal those wounds, but he can infuse the wounds with an energy connected to Primus that begins the healing. The merge often requires remembering and coming to terms things one would rather forget.~
~What for, though?~ He prodded. ~What does healing a spark do?~
Alicia thought about it for quite awhile, and then shook her head. ~I don't know exactly. I know that many seek it, and have sought it many times, and not simply to merge with Prime; it isn't a merge for pleasure, and sometimes is painful. I know how much better Hound felt following, as though he could finally let go of some of the memories that haunted him the most. He felt ... lighter, less weighing on him, able to look at situations without the lens of war. Miles said that it helped Prowl heal from the grief of his broken bond with Jazz, even though Jazz had come back.~
She was quiet again, pondering the mechs she knew and what she saw in their sparks, what she could see of Night Breeze's.
~I think it helps them to forgive. Whether it is forgiving others, or themselves,~ she finally said.
Mirage brushed against her mind. ~Yes, to let go, to forgive, to see the possibility of something other than pain and loss coming.~
Night Breeze simply hummed thoughtfully at both of them, falling silent as he continued to drive towards a destination only he knew, for activities they all knew were coming.
By the time they arrived at their location, Alicia has dozed off, curling up on the seat, occasionally murmuring in her sleep. A gentle nudge to her mind woke her as they slowed. She had no idea where they were, other than they were no longer in Iacon. The landscape around her could only be described as a "rural" part of Cybertron. They were at a large, ancient looking metal cliff overlooking a valley crystals growing in fractal-like patterns and a silver sea that she hoped was not mercury for the sake of her health.
~It wouldn't hurt you now,~ Mirage responded to her thought before she caught sight of a silver mech that was both very familiar and very different. Still in his Cybertronian armor rather than one created to fit in on Earth, and with a much lighter build that spoke of his existence staying off the battlefield, Jazz was still unmistakable. Creepy too, with a ruby red visor over his optics.
She pulled her semi-transparent silk-like wrap around herself before climbing out of the iris that opened in Night Breeze's sleek, black altform.
"Beautiful," she said, looking out over the view as a frigid wind blew through her hair from off of the sea. It was the most wild looking place she had seen yet on the planet. Utterly alien, but giving her a sense of comfort in its chaos.
"She has taste," Night Breeze snickered at his sire, who reached down to pick her up.
"Very different tastes from her mech," Jazz responded almost carelessly as he walked to a hidden lift that swiftly took them into the interior of the small, intimate and lavish cliff face fortress. "You are to strengthen my Prowl's spark, extend his functioning and give it enough fire to kindle with me," he ordered, hardly looking at her.
"And hello to you, too, Jazz," she said, giving him a relaxed smile, looking around her with interest, noting that Night Breeze had not followed them inside. "Your creation is quite the handsome one."
"Yes, he is," Jazz murmured with a faint smile. "Not the brightest one, but he is pleasant on the optics."
It occurred to her that this Jazz was distressed, deeply, and still coming to terms with the cause.
"How weak is he?" she asked quietly. "Mirage said he didn't look well at the party, though our baseline of comparison is from a different world."
"If he has a hundred vorns left, he'll have beaten the odds," he answered with unusual candor. "If he ends up carrying, it will kill him. You might change both."
She nodded in acceptance of what he said. She was more than willing to help Prowl. The question was, did he want to be helped? Or would Jazz simply feed her energy to his spark regardless?
She looked around to try to get a feel for this Jazz. He had a wide collection of artwork representing every city and time period, as well as a decent amount of off-world art. The home was lavish, though not at all like the sterile elegance of the Towers or even the more public parts of Prime's palace.
"How about his processors? How is his mind?" She asked the question reluctantly, but she didn't want to display shock when she came across him (and she wondered where exactly he was). Prowl's processing power was legendary, and she wanted to prepare herself for meeting a version of him whose mind was largely gone, if that was indeed the case. Mirage's memories had not been encouraging.
"Physically intact," Jazz muttered, a twitch of armor showing his irritation. "He refuses to power them. He's little more than a drone most orns."
"So, just so I know what to expect here, is he going to be cooperative and aware that I'm sharing with him and you are kindling with him? You know very well I'll cooperate with whatever it is you want of me, but I just want to prepare emotionally for whatever it is."
She couldn't escape the sinking, sick feeling in her belly that she could very well be, in essence, participating in the rape of Jazz's sparkmate.
"I'm not sure if he'll be that aware of you, but he usually starts to pay attention when I touch him," he explained. "Kindling is difficult enough with two fully focused mechs. It can be done with only one coherent, but the odds go down dramatically."
She gave a sigh that was both relief and resignation, her high from before largely gone, though a small part of her mind assured her it would return when she needed it. "I'll give him ... both of you ... my best. I care for both of you a great deal in our world. It is impossible for that not to spill over here."
"I understand that will be helpful when you strengthen his spark," he said as a door spiraled open from the metal wall to reveal a room that was pure luxury in much the same way Prime's was. Softness and fabric was everywhere, the light was soft and defused, intended to show off the black and white Praxian waiting for them on the large berth and the carvings that decorated the space.
"This would be Alicia Rodriguez," Prowl's voice was a little rougher than usual, lower, less commanding, but familiar.
"Yes," Jazz nodded and set her on the berth near his bonded, then leaned in to claim a long, intimate and heated kiss. "Enjoy her, my pretty," he ordered quietly, stroking Prowl's faceplates with a thumb. "I'll be back in a few joor."
"Hello Prowl," she said softly, lifting up her hair to invite him to plug in. An imagine flashed in her mind of Miles, curled up asleep or reading a datapad on Prowl's lap. It was a common sight at home, but it still brought smiles to organic and mech faces. She wondered if this Prowl had ever known that kind of love and devotion from an organic. He likely hadn't known the devotion her Jazz had to his Prowl.
"Hello Alicia Rodriguez," he replied quietly, wearily, as Jazz left the room. He extended a cable from his wrist to connect with her. "You were told what is expected of you, and of me?"
~I was. The question is, what do you want?~ she asked softly through the connection, feeling only an exhausted resignation from him rather than desire of any kind.
~What I want?~ he seemed to roll the question around his processors for a long time, as if it was something he hadn't thought about for a very long time. ~I ... I want to extinguish not long after Jazz delivers a strong sparkling. The creator bond will temper his pain and fury. He will still slaughter hundreds, but not thousands.~
~Then that's what we'll do,~ she said, sending acceptance and her deep feeling of respect for the mech. ~It will be easier for me to give this to you knowing it's what you want. Did Jazz explain that I know another version of you, from another place and time? Someone I am very fond of and consider a friend?~
~Not directly, but I picked up as much,~ he murmured, remaining still and watching her. ~He does not shield much when we share. I am one of the few he does not have to be anything but himself with. How does this happen? I have been with organics, but no one like you.~
She felt the deeper explanation that went with the statement. The organics that Jazz brought home for him were socket quality, but far less intelligent and self-aware than humans. They were well-trained, simple creatures who were content to be pleasured by direct neural stimulation or second hand interfacing. Prowl had never been with an organic as a lover.
~I will give you the very best charge if I can treat you as I would a lover, like I do my own mechs. I will show you what feels good to me, and you do what feels comfortable to you. If being with me physically causes you revulsion, we can figure out something else. I have a wonderful imagination and fantasy can be as good if not better than reality sometimes.~
~It does not revolt me,~ he assured her, reaching out to run a finger lightly down her back. ~I have never desired to extend my functioning. It makes embracing organic charges difficult. This is different. This is for a new spark.~
She carefully climbed up on his familiar lap, tempted to curl up like Miles and simply talk with the mech.
~It would mean a lot to me if I could,~ she hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. ~If I could care for you, first.~ She shared memories of detailing one of her lovers' frames, most recently Prime's, and how she would polish their spikes and valves to a mirror-like finish.
The frame under her shivered, so like Prowl's but so much lighter without the war-time armor he looked like a different mech from some angles. Desire spiked through the connection. Even though she felt it was dim, enough of his thoughts joined it to realize that it was an intense feeling for him. Jazz had installed emotional protocols in Prowl, but had been a much finer programmer and kept them dim enough that they didn't scramble his logic center or the battle computer, which hadn't been uninstalled, somewhat to her surprise.
He unsubspaced an ornate box and set it on the berth before opening it to reveal polishing supplies as fine in quality as anything Mirage had.
His finish was already impeccable, as good as anything the towers had to offer, but this was about kindness and pleasure, so she asked him to lie down on the berth designed to be luxurious for his sensor wings, and climbed up to his chest, polishing the red and black surface above his spark in a manner that had become ritual to her, paying special mind to the crevasses and seams that only a tiny hands could reach.
~Prowl,~ she asked as she worked. ~Were you brought online with Smokescreen?~
~Yes. There were three others as well. I understand that Mirage paid for him to be extinguished by a priest,~ he didn't hide the appreciation in his mind. ~Thank him for me. I wished to, however this is as much a cage as anything he was in by society. Jazz indulges me, but only when he sees the point. I did not want Jazz to end him.~
Alicia had to briefly stop and clench her fists, rage boiling up at the state Jazz kept Prowl in: strong, brilliant Prowl who had been the backbone of the Autobots, the fiercely protective sire as Jazz carried, and the tender caretaker of Repertoire. She felt a new set of nanite protocols swiftly block the anger from Prowl's spark, and a soothing wave from Mirage that immediately instantly quelled her anger. Prowl did not need her outrage. It would do nothing for his spark, and she did not dare fail in her efforts to strengthen him.
She moaned as a flood of endorphins hit her brain, calming and relaxing her, helping her to care only for the present, only for bringing pleasure and life to this mech who was so deserving of the tenderness and pleasure she offered. Desire to give him everything she was capable of flooded her body and mind, and she whimpered with the overwhelming strength of those feelings and the hunger of the spark that drank them up despite its desire to extinguish and return to its source.
Slowly and sensuously she moved down his frame, toward his interface panel, her brain and body once again offering up only positive regard, care, and tender love for the spark she freely gave herself to, if only for a short time. In place of the earlier outrage, she offered, if he chose to have them, the memories of Smokescreen's first non-medical charge, the beauty of his passing, and the plans Mirage was making to help others of their caste, along with Prime's approval and support of those plans.
~That is good,~ he moaned at the pleasure and its energy, so much stronger than what he was used to, made his spark swell. ~I almost regret I will not witness these changes, that you will not remain with us.~
A shiver of fear passed through her at that thought, but quickly passed as she placed a kiss on his interface panel. ~I would not do well in a cage, Prowl. My energy is what it is because I make my choices freely, and I love those I share with, but none more than the two mechs who claimed me.~
He slid the panel open without prompting. ~I do not understand, but I believe you. Your mech is lucky to have you.~
~Not nearly as lucky as I am to have him,~ was all she could manage to say before turning her attention first to his pressurizing spike, letting the erotic, alien smells and textures of the polish and his lubricants carry her away into the pure sensuality of the act of polishing his white spike starting from its base, giving it a mirror-like gleam.
Prowl shuddered, moaning static at the attention. It wasn't a new sensation to him, not completely, but to have it mixed with an organic charge feeding his spark, to have such a raw pleasure taken from the act was novel. Without thinking he fed some of the pleasure back to her, wanting to share the sensations.
She gasped at the first burst of shared sensation. ~Oh ... that is very, very good,~ she grinned, loving how much such simple pleasure from her was giving so much to his spark. She shivered in anticipation of just how much better the charge would be for him once she really lost herself in pleasure, especially once she climaxed.
She purposefully kept herself from wrapping her body around his spike like she longed to. That would come soon enough. She wanted to draw out the build up until neither could hold back and give him a charge like nothing he could imagine.
~You already are,~ he moaned, his fingers digging lightly into the berth coverings. ~You have such an erotic mind. So many ideas.~
She continued polishing him until his spike was visibly throbbing and twitching, gleaming bright and ready. It would feel so good to finally have him inside of her. Standing on her tip toes she kissed the tip as passionately as she might kiss human lips, letting her tongue dive into the slit to find the sensors inside. She wrapped one of her legs around his thick interface and both of her arms to keep her balance and the shared sensation made her go weak in the knees.
~When you can't wait any longer, confine me in your claws and cables and take me,~ she instructed, showing him memories of the best charges she had given. ~It is the one time I love being caged.~
~I understand,~ he shuddered, his head tipping back with a moan of pleasure at her actions. ~I have great endurance,~ he warned her, almost teasingly.
She laughed aloud at his teasing confidence. "I'm sure you do, Prowl. Unfortunately for you, I happen to have some secret weapons at my disposal."
She moved between his pedes and began to polish the outer curve of his valve, purposefully taking her time as one by one, she began to feed him images she had seen over her two vorns as a socket, particularly images of a certain silver mech and with his sensor-winged bond mate and their grinning socket, with one another, and with others one base, including the well known vid of Prowl taking Jazz hard against the wall in front of Prime and many others after the SIC and his socket had tormented him into losing control.
"Primus!" Prowl gasped, his entire chassis tensing more at the images than her touch as arousal roiled out of control. ~He allowed that?~
~Allowed it? Getting Prowl to lose control is his favorite past time,~ she laughed, sending another favorite image that she hadn't watched first hand but had been shared with her later (she had been inside Hound's chestplates teasing his spark casing at the time). Jazz and Mirage were performing an erotic Tower's seduction dance the night of Jolt and Killblade's bonding ceremony, the night Repertoire was kindled. Images of both senior officers (made famous by National Geographic) came next, Jazz again dancing for his lover as he removed his armor.
A low, static-heavy sound escaped Prowl's vocalizer, his mind warning her only a fraction of a nanoklik before he burst into motion with a near-snarl of need, a sound even more feral than what the Prowl she knew would utter when pushed past his limit.
In the next moment she was pinned on her back, spread out and held down by strong, clawed fingers and cables while he drove into her as hard as her fragile body could take.
She was only dimly aware of Mirage in her mind, keeping any fear or post traumatic flashbacks at bay, leaving her free to scream her animal pleasure as she was stretched, filled, and taken so hard it was just shy of pain. Her awareness of Prowl's spark overwhelmed her physical senses, and she screamed again incoherently at the ecstasy of feeding its frightening hunger as it reached toward her, intent on having her, using, owning and consuming her. Only barely shielded enough, she reveled in the wildness of sharing, the first of many orgasms blasting through her and straight in the bright white light.
"Oh Primus, yes! More!" she shrieked.
The first thing that reached her awareness was warmth of soft bedding, then the warmth of a mech nearby.
It was several relaxed, pleasant moments before the soreness of her body matched with memories and she realized just who the warmth was.
The green glow in front of her closed eyes demanded attention. There was no surprise when she opened her eyes to Jazz's visor looking down at her from his perch sprawled on Prowl's chassis.
"I really should keep you, you know," his voice was a cheerful, openly pleased purr. "You've given him at another hundred vorns, maybe more, just from that one charge."
"It wouldn't be the same if I didn't want to be here, but I'm glad that he enjoyed it as much as he did," she replied nonchalantly despite the unpleasant chill that went up her spine and the sick feeling that settled in her gut at the statement. "Was the red visor earlier just to creep me out?" she asked to distract herself, looking straight at the green visor that was regarding her.
The surprised sound was as much an answer as any words. "What does red mean to you?"
"Decepticons have red optics, for the most part. My species learned to associate that color with death, torture, or generators very quickly, though we are having to adjust now that the war is over," she explained. "Most of the Autobots had blue optics like Prime. Yours, or at least our Jazz's are a rather feral-looking green, at least that is the rumor," she said with a shrug.
Jazz hummed. "Here, those who are sparked to have red optics are the rebellious ones, the curious ones, violent or quiet. Those whose processors refuse to just accept what they're told. Many are scientists, but most end up outside normal society."
"Makes sense, from a historical standpoint," she said thoughtfully. "Their movement started as a rebellion against a social system that was all about control - resources, reproduction, status, and from their point of view, life itself, with Prime's decree against the generators."
Jazz's angular face lowered to rest on Prowl's upper chassis, just over his spark, though his optic band remained on her. "What makes you so different?"
"Different how?" she asked. She thought she knew, but wanted to hear him say it, and in her current blissed out, slightly endorphin-drugged state, she couldn't bring herself to be afraid of why he would want to know.
"The charge you give," he clarified tolerantly. "Ever since Wheeljack arrived with C'chukt I've brought organics for him. Each race, each gender, every variation I could find. I've even gone to their homeworlds. You're the first to extend his existence more than a few vorns."
She sighed and gave a wry smile, shaking her head. "I really don't know, Jazz," she shrugged and looked down. "My pride says that it is because I made my own choices, because I chose the life I'm living, and I love and am loved by the mechs who chose me; my devotion to their sparks is borderline religious. In Prowl's case, I care deeply for the version of him in my own world, and while I was sharing with him here, I loved him. But if I take a step back and am honest, it may have nothing to do with any of that, or it might only be a part of it. It may simply be that my species evolved sentience with the Allspark on our planet, may have evolved sentience because the Allspark was on our world, and because of that our energy resonates more closely with your own. All of the human sockets I know give exceptionally potent charges."
He hummed again, his vocalizer creating a resonance with the chassis it rested against. When he reached out, he traced a claw lightly along one of the glyphs decorating her body. "I'm half surprised Prime allowed you to come, given you'd worked out why I want you more than your mech right now. He may favor life, but a new spark as tainted by the Unmaker as mine? Or does he know who will carry that spark?"
"I think he assumed Prowl would carry, but there was no reason for him not to suspect that you might." She regarded him closely, frowning, challenge in her eyes. "Jazz carried in our universe, has done so several times. The one he last carried is an amazing spark. I can see into sparks quite clearly, and there is very little darkness in her, and what there is, the light in her uses as strength. He's already carrying again. Every spark comes from Primus, and as our Jazz learned the hard way, every spark eventually returns there. Not even you or the Unmaker can change that."
Optics behind the band narrowed sharply, claws sharpened in anger ... and fear, she abruptly realized as her sight clicked into the fore, trying to warn to that she was treading a very deadly line.
"Jazz?" Prowl's voice, low, quiet and submissive, broke the staring match before Jazz lashed out.
Instead the silver mech huffed and turned to his mate. "Organic nonsense."
Prowl's golden optics, still recharge hazed, shifted from Jazz to her. "It is not wise to tease him."
"Forgive me," she said quietly, her words emotionally directed far more to Prowl than Jazz. She was shaken to the core at the strength of the silver mech's reaction, and watched the tumult of his aura with wary eyes as he gradually settled to the soothing strokes of his mate.
Was her Jazz this panicked at the idea before he came back, or was it just that this one was much earlier in his life path even if he was the same age? Would hers still react this badly if confronted with the idea? She wasn't sure she'd have the nerve to ask if she ever got the chance. It told her all too clearly that Jazz, quite possibly both of them, anticipated oblivion and welcomed it far more than absolution.
"How do you feel, Prowl?" she asked warmly, trying to put the focus back to a topic Jazz would feel positive about: his bonded and the spark that would last much longer now that she had fed it.
"Stronger than I have in some time," he responded honestly, his fingers sliding along Jazz's sensory horns. "As strong as when we kindled Night Breeze."
The silver mech was suddenly focused completely on his bonded, returning the caresses and claiming a kiss that was quickly growing more heated.
She smiled at the two, able to forget for the moment that they were anything other than two mechs who loved one another and wished to kindle a life together. The way Jazz responded so eagerly and the flare of excitement from Prowl was intoxicating. Maybe not as much as when Hound and Mirage kindled Brisa with her help, but close.
Prowl extended a cable to her socket, sharing with her the fire Jazz could inspire in him. A moment later Jazz's awareness was on the connection as well, and he wasn't the least bit subtle about digging around her mind for memories of his other self.
She moaned, not certain whether it was in terror or pleasure at having his powerful presence so deeply inside her, taking what he wished while playing her nervous system and mental fantasies like a musical instrument as the life flowed into his bonded. There was no doubt in her mind that if he could have fed her entire body and soul to Prowl's spark, he would have.
~Of course I would,~ Jazz told her, agreeing with her simple assessment. ~Anything to extend his functioning.~
She tried to stifle her anger at the declaration, knowing there was no hiding it, and instinctively pushed against his mental violation, wanting him out. To her surprised, the sentient program that his counterpart had created for claimed sockets kicked in.
Pure rage hit from Jazz, outright terror from Prowl, and suddenly there was only Jazz in her mind, lashing back at the program while his trembling frame was held tightly in black and white arms.
~How dare...~ Jazz sputtered indignantly with a fresh wave of fury.
~Please,~ she begged, sobbing. ~I don't have any control over it! It only kicks in when I feel threatened, and I'd stop it if I could. You can take and look at anything you want, but I can't control when the nanites activate!~
She could see that he was mollified, somewhat, but he still growled, shifting his focus fully towards the nanites and dissecting their software. It was a challenge, one put forth by a different version of himself, and he was not about to back down.
Pain, his pain, flickered in and out of his aura next. The intensity was high enough she knew it should have knocked him out as it cycled in and out of her awareness. Each half-klik long cycle busted the feedback he was faced with until Prowl let a small whine escape.
~Please...you are hurting Prowl,~ she said tentatively, fearfully, knowing that anything she said could invite a reprisal that would end her. ~You want to kindle with him. Let me help you do that, let me feed his spark again.~
Prowl's clawed fingers tapped into Jazz's chestplates, the larger mech trembling in pain.
"J-Ja-zz," he stuttered, gripping his lover tighter.
That snapped the silver mech out of his battle, and out of her mind as the cable came loose. Almost immediately Prowl let out a vent of relief and sank into the berth as the pain receded.
Alicia let out a sob and curled into fetal position on the berth, pushing away at the flashback that was looming just underneath her terror. She hurt from the battle that had raged inside her in a way that was deeper than the physical injuries she had received from Vortex. Unsure what else do to, she desperately reached out to Mirage for comfort while begging forgiveness verbally over and over again.
"I had no idea that would happen. I'm so sorry. Please ... I'm sorry."
~Shu, shu, it's okay. You'll be fine, they'll be fine. It was only pain, nothing more.~ Mirage assured her, wrapping her in his mental embrace. ~It's only pain, not damage.~
Outside her mind, Jazz had turned his full attention to Prowl. Even though the silver mech's systems were still in near-blinding agony, he had the wits and focus to carefully block off links to his bonded. As much as it hurt them both, it kept Prowl safe. It was all he could focus on. Prowl had to remain safe, strong. They had to kindle, and this one had to be Jazz's to carry.
He laid Prowl down on the berth as the Praxian stopped shaking and pulled away.
"Make his spark as strong as you can," Jazz barely managed to hiss as he stepped away from the berth. "I'll going to feed and return when I'm calm again."
Her face was streaked in tears and her body still shaking as she crawled toward Prowl on the berth. Jazz was leaving to go take a spark. Someone was dying because she had ignited his rage, and it made her sob all over again.
Without words, she climbed onto Prowls lap, curling up the way she had seen Miles do so many times.
Prowl's hand came down to curl around her, stroking her gently as he listened for his bonded to leave the fortress.
"He would have fed soon anyway," he murmured. "When he's angry like this, they end quickly."
She gave a minute nod of understanding, curling more closely into his hand. "I can see why Miles loves your lap so much," she finally whispered as the warmth of his systems staved off the chill that had settled on her. "How did the two of you meet, in this world, Prowl?" she asked, trying to distract herself from terror that was looming in the her mind.
"He saw me at a crime scene one orn," he let a vent escape. "It was a perfect storm of sorts, a rash of gang murders, a serial killer, and a spark-hungry Jazz all active at once. Every Enforcer was pulling an extra shift on the street, even those like me. The second time he watched a crime scene I noticed him as a repeat. The third time I challenged him. My next shift in tactical I found a file with proof to take down the gang that was making my life difficult. As far as security was concerned, it simply appeared. He continued giving me gifts. In three vorns I found my contract bought out and I was transferred to Jazz."
"The circumstances that brought Prowl and Jazz together in my universe were so particular, it was hard for me to imagine it happening without the war," she murmured, trying to imagine her Jazz purchasing Prowl like property, and not being able to fathom it. There was so much she wanted to ask him, but she felt like every question would hurt. Did he love his bonded? Had he been given any choice? Had he been able to use his brilliant processors in this life in a meaningful way?
"When sparks resonate as strongly as ours do, they will eventually find each other," he said softly. "He saved me, in his own way, from being torn between loyalty to my duty and the demands of my spark. Your Prowl has more freedom, has done more with his existence, but much of it are things I could not have done anyway, not in this world." He used a finger to tip her face up to look at him. "I have a mature creation, Alicia. I'm likely to have two. I'm bonded. These are things a mech with my origins wouldn't dare dream of. I am old and tired, my bonded is one of the most vicious mech ever created, but I've had a good functioning."
A smile played on her lips as she wiped away the fresh tears that his statement brought. His words brought her a deep sense of relief, a weight taken off of her. "I'm glad, Prowl. I am able to see things in people's sparks. I've seen who he becomes, when he has bonded several more times. There is so much more light in his spark, so much freedom that I do not see in him now. He may still have the Unmaker's gifts, but he has broken free of the Unmaker, and is his own mech."
"It took dying, however," he said with certainty. "Bonding may calm him, but I have been with his spark much of my existence. The darkness is far too deep for mortals to temper for long ... though he may well be acting, in his own way. Biding time until he can be free again. It seems the war can take from even him."
She looked up at his golden optics and saw the vast intelligence in them; he was anything but a drone. And his spark ... so old, one of the oldest she had ever seen, just like Prowl's at home. She and her grandmother had their suspicions: one spark marred by the Unmaker, doomed to live longer than everyone he knew and loved. The other: full of light, returning again and again to give a little more of that light each time, until one day, the dark-centered spark could be free.
She couldn't help loving him. Not the way she did her mechs, but she loved him nonetheless, and if he asked her to come back again, she would, despite how terrifying his bonded was.
She felt her body stir in longing to feed him, to feel the hunger of his ancient light again. She smiled at him and lifted her hair in an invitation that was instantly accepted.
Many sharings and naps later, Alicia found herself placed on a thick, soft blanket on a shelf above the berth. Jazz had returned, much settled and with a new life force bound to his spark. He only had two things on his processors: his bonded and pleasure.
While with her own mechs she would have completely lost herself in their pleasure and love for one another as armor was teased off and protoforms slid sensuously together, this time there was no cable in her socket. Jazz did not want to risk her energy drawing the new spark to Prowl. With as protective as he was of his bonded's spark, she was surprised that she was even permitted to be in the room.
~An indicator of how little a threat he views you as,~ Jazz's voice spoke in her mind.
She tensed for a moment, shocked to hear this 'Jazz' again. The last time had been when the nanites that made up the sentient protection program had kept her from dying at a critical point in her recovery.
~He clearly saw you as a threat, though. I think I'm lucky I survived that.~
The nanite-Jazz chuckled. ~Well, I am. My creator had much more practice than he has. It's hot to watch though, aren't they?~
~Very,~ she murmured in appreciation, her own hands moving in time with the slow, sensuous movement of the two armorless mechs below her. ~So, are you really a sentient program, or am I just going insane?~
~You aren't going insane,~ he snickered. ~Though I am just in your head. Can you see if they'll kindle?~
She closed her eyes an focused on her other sight, flinching at what she saw in Jazz's spark even as howls of both pain and pleasure came from below as they began to merge.
~There is a new spark forming, but the darkness both fights and draws it. Fights it because it must allow something of Primus in, draws it because it wants to be able to create rather than destroy, just as Unicron was jealous of Primus when he created Prima. The darkness can only add to what the light has given it.~
~Hope the darkness loses,~ her Jazz said quietly. ~He's very unstable. Carrier protocols will settle him for more vorns than you need to worry about.~
~I guess it didn't occur to him that I could actually help his spark attract the sparkling, or else he didn't want to be anywhere close to you again,~ she said, watching intently and then gasping as the little spark nearly guttered out.
"Plug into me," she hissed aloud in near panic, certain that her life was over if this didn't work.
~His spark can't use your energy any more than my programmer can,~ her Jazz pointed out. ~Though I suppose the little one might be able to, if it's not like the others Jazz's carried.~
It was Prowl who reacted, grabbing the edge of the blanket she was on and pulling, awkwardly tumbling her into his hand where he plugged in. ~Jazz has to carry,~ Prowl's mind actually snarled at her. ~If I do, it'll extinguish us both.~
She focused all of her energy on the tiny spark, sending it her longing, hope, and love, while feeling through their bond that Mirage was pleasuring his own frame simply so she could feel it and feed the tiny new light. Prowl could only focus on the merge, staying connected despite the pain, yet inside her mind, the ever-more sentient program began stroking her nerves the way her own mech might in an emergency, bringing her instantly to climax after climax as though she were some kind of defibrillator.
The Jazz in her head fooled her into believing that it was this Jazz that pleasured her, and as she made her primal calls of nearly painful ecstasy, she pushed and urged the tiny spark toward the much larger, terrifying one.
As she lost consciousness, her final thought was that her own survival, Prowl's, and likely Mirage's and Night Breeze's depended on what that tiny light did.
"Ah, you're awake," Night Breeze's voice filtered into her awareness. He sounded pleased, or at least relieved, and she thought his voice was echoing inside of a confined space.
She opened her eyes and found herself inside his sleek black altform once again. "And alive," she said wryly. "Wasn't sure that was going to be the case. I take it your sire is carrying?"
"Yes," his voice rang cleanly with relief, delight and absolute dread. "It'll be a while before we can be sure it's staying, but it's as strong as Whiplash was, according to Jazz."
She arched her eyebrows at that, and chuckled. "Whiplash is Jazz's. Well doesn't that just put a whole lot of pieces together. Mirage is probably going to need to make me forget that." She was quiet for a moment, thoughtful about the person around her, whose spark's darkness was only the normal kind that came with existing, not what came from being carried by Jazz. "So, will Jazz carrying help you survive when Prowl extinguishes?" she asked bluntly.
"Until it's fully upgraded and trained at least," his voice dimmed. "He probably feed me to it when it's ready for it's first spark-meal. Something about creations he didn't carry gets to him once he has one of his own by the mech."
"No," Alicia growled, balling her fists. "That can't happen. I refuse to let that happen to you. There has to be something you can do, something we can do."
He was quiet for a long moment. "I could delay things by running away and hiding," she could almost feel his shrug. "But that'll just anger him a lot more, and he'll catch me and take it all out on me. I'd rather be a meal for my little sibling than for him. I knew as soon as the thought of a second sparkling came up that I'd be slotted as it's first meal."
The rage settled in her gut at that thought was enough to startle Mirage, whom she quickly assured of her wellbeing.
"Then let Prime protect you. He would, I'm certain. Or if we find a way back home, come with us. Our Jazz would not do that to his creation, and Prowl would never allow him to, even if for some insane reason he wanted to."
"Prime can't protect himself against me, much less Jazz and Whiplash," Night Breeze said calmly and just a bit smugly. "As for going with you ... you realize that's just an invitation for my sire to follow and bring his own special brand of mass destruction with him. This universe can barely sustain his hunger. One with so few mechs, and at least three sparks to feed would never support him. Besides, that would be your Jazz's choice, not anyone else's."
"I don't think your sire is going to need an invitation from you. He wanted to know everything about my Jazz."
"Perhaps," Night Breeze acknowledged. "It isn't an issue unless those scientists work out how to send you home."
"Why would you want to harm Prime?" she asked innocently.
"Personally, none," she did feel him shrug on his wheels this time. "Just making a point. If he can't protect himself from me, he can't protect me from my sire."
She let out a sigh, but didn't bother to respond, but instead affectionately ran her hand along the door that was also his sensor wing.
~So, oh Jazz in my head,~ she asked, unsure whether she would get any sort of response, ~what do you make of this lovely mech who seems to think his only possible fate is being consumed by the spark we just helped to make? Because I'm not so happy with that.~
~Better him than Mirage,~ came the first, blunt, reply. ~It is something Jazz did, before Prowl.~
~Well, on that we agree. But the key phrase is 'before Prowl'. How would Jazz and Prowl feel about him if he returned with us? I do so like sensor wings and it would be a pity to see a pair wasted.~
Head-Jazz snickered, then sobered. ~Jazz would interrogate him to within a nanoklik of extinguishing, rework him like the others if he decided he was safe enough to keep. Prowl'd go with what Jazz decided.~
~Better that than consumed, though he may not see it that way,~ she found herself smirking.
"Are you speaking with Mirage?" Night Breeze asked quietly.
"Ummm...no. Talking with myself, sort of. My socket protection protocols have become rather sentient recently. We were discussing how their creator would likely respond to you."
"Violently, I expect," Night Breeze chuckled as she recognized the wealthy sector of Iacon where the palace was located. "If nothing else, I am dangerous until he's sure he can control me. He does have two sparklings and a bonded to guard."
"I imagine that Prowl would say that your probability of survival would be higher there than here. You have a good spark, Night Breeze. It is meant for more than being your sibling's first meal," she said with a soft smile as she caressed his sensor panels again.
"Perhaps," he said uncertainly, pulling to the side of the road near a crystal garden and opened his passenger door for her. "It's not relevant until there's a way to get to your universe anyway."
She climbed out, and was promptly swooped up by a waiting Mirage.
"See ya later, Batman," she said coyly, collapsing into her mech's hands and against his chest in utter relief, tension she had not even been aware of draining out of her at the first feel of his warmth and the familiar sound of his systems and spark. She felt him finally relax once Night Breeze was out of range.
"Batman?" Mirage quirked an optic ridge at her.
"Dark, handsome, tortured and secretive past, swoops like a bat. He certainly isn't Luke Skywalker, for all that Darth Vader is his father. If the shoe fits..."
Mirage cycled his optics, then shook his head before turning towards the palace grounds. "Do forget I asked. Did they kindle successfully?"
"Oh, I got the Unmaker's herald knocked up good, baby," she said with a purr, sliding her hands under his armor to caress the wires and cables leading to his spark. "Let's go find Prime and get you knocked up, too, sexy, before you fix whatever you did to my brain."
He shuddered, his engine stuttering, then revving hard. "If only he'd agree," he stroked her with several small cables. "But I think we'll enjoy practicing anyway."