C.M.D: Last chapter of this wondrous October update period; extra long, just as I said! Again, there is some more MATURE scenes in this chapter, so for all my readers looking for the full update, head on over archiveofourown (link available in my profile). Otherwise, enjoy dear followers!

Title: Rodimus V
Rating: M

The morning was hot and dull. Rodimus felt the thrumming flames of another overload lick at his exhausted neural net. He wanted more... so much more... But Blackout had locked him away when his servos had gotten a little too close again, leaving the apartment sometime in the night. Self-indulgence had alleviated a bit of the aching, but dawn had risen cycles ago. A change would be needed very shortly.

As if hearing the autodog's passing thoughts, the sound of the deadbolt turning loudly in the silent apartment had Rodimus scrambling to get off the berth; throwing himself at the door as he caught the panther's familiar musky scent. "Blackout? Blackout, let me out! Oh, please? Please? Please, please, please! I need you, Blackout. I can't frag myself with fingers forever! I want your spike. Need it! Primus, please, let me out Blackout. I'll do anything you want! C-come frag me, please. Oh, please..."

He knocked, scratched and gyrated at the door, lip components tasting wood as he spilled his pleas against the grain. The shallow desire for overload had erupted into an inferno, lighting every sensor within the golden retriever as soon as he knew Blackout had returned; desperate to find relief against the blazing pain. Fingers were already dragging down the door, when suddenly the door wrenched open, knocking Rodimus back. He rolled once, hitting the edge of the berth with a grunt, trying to clear the stars from his optics. Looking up, the lawyer noticed Blackout standing in the doorway, staring down at the autodog with fervent, beady optics.

The sight excited the red mech. "It's been waiting for-" Rodimus was cut off as something was hurled into his face.

"Get dressed," Blackout hissed out once the golden retriever managed to yank the clothes from his helm. He bared his fangs when Rodimus tried to lunge at him hungrily, a pitiful whine escaping the autodog when he was smacked down for his efforts. "I said put them on! We're going out."

That made the lawyer pause in his misery, turning to the pile of clothes he had discarded and picking them apart. He found a white dress shirt and one of his navy suits and ties in there; puzzled, he looked up at Blackout.

"Why-?"

"I need you looking nice," the panther gruffed. "Take a shower while you're at it."

Heat pooled in the golden retriever's array. Fingers caught in the thug's jeans as he nuzzled closer, optics sparkling up at the kittycon longingly. Rodimus did not pay mind to the frustrated glare Blackout sent him in return, much too merry in his delusions. Maybe the brown mech enjoyed a 'bot in a suit? If that was the case, the lawyer would dress however Blackout wanted him to, so long as the panther finally dug his massive claws into his willing frame. Rodimus stole another nuzzle and grind before the thug had enough and physically dragged the autodog to the washroom, shutting the door and leaving him to take care of matters himself.

It was the quickest the red mech had ever washed.

xxXxXxx

Fully cleaned and frustratingly clothed, the golden retriever followed after Blackout as they left his little apartment. Every time he tried to close the distance between them, the panther shoved him back, nearly sending the lawyer to the floor on three different occasions. Finally, Rodimus stopped trying, picking at his tie as they descended the building staircase. "Where are we going?," he asked, chewing at his bottom lip component.

It was so aggravating having to stand beside the larger mech and not be touched.

The kittycon didn't turn to face the autodog. Rodimus swallowed a grumble, picking up his pace when Blackout hurried out of the building first, strutting purposefully down the street. The weather was nice, the lawyer noted faintly, optics roving over the panther's broad shoulders and lengthy, black tail. The golden retriever canted his helm. If he gave it a tug, would Blackout knock him to floor? Madness nibbled at the back of his processor. He should do that, Rodimus reasoned, he-

Blackout grabbed him suddenly, surprising him again as he seemed to be doing often that orn. Before the red mech could even stutter out a question, the thug was yanking open the door of a limo parked beside them, throwing the lawyer into the back seat.

"Wait, who-?" The door slammed shut behind Rodimus before he could even finish his enquiry, startling the poor autodog. He whirled around to grab hold of the door handle when he heard a series of loud thunks echo throughout the car -the locks activating- the vehicle then peeling away from the curb. "Stop! Let me out!"

"Now now, my boy," a familiar vocalizer crooned. "Settle down and buckle up. You're in no danger."

Rodimus turned to snarl at his abductor but froze instead, finally recognizing the old mech sitting on the other side. "M-mister mayor...," he croaked, feeling suddenly very ill, "What... H-how did you know w-where I was?"

Alpha Trion gestured silently to the lawyer's seat and, chastely, the younger mech slid back to his proper position; grabbing the seat belt and buckling in. "I-i... I think there's b-been a misunderstanding," Rodimus continued hesitantly, trying to maintain optic contact with the old autodog and failing. "I d-don't work in your offices anymore. I-in fact, I left I-iacon altogether."

"I am aware," his companion spoke up, reaching into a mini bar on the car's side wall. He grabbed a bottle of sake, pouring out two glasses, taking the second and leaning across the open space. "Here," he insisted, pushing the cup into Rodimus' numb servos. "Drink this. You look like a wreck, my boy."

The golden retriever lifted the glass to his mouth uncertainly, scowling at the bitter taste. But under the watchful gaze of Alpha Trion, the younger mech made sure to down every last drop; silently grateful when the mayor did not refill his cup. "Things have b-been... rough..."

"Quite," the other autodog vented, finishing his drink and pouring a second. He pulled a cell out with his free servo, his thumb moving across the touchscreen as he talked. "Well, I suppose it's unavoidable. Thankfully, my stylist will meet us there. She won't be able to do much on such short notice, but at least she'll clean you up a bit better. Fix that slag-awful mess of knot that you call a tie..."

Rodimus felt chills slither through his sensory grid. "W-what?," he chuckled shortly, an edge of hysteria colouring his tone. "What short notice? Meet where? Wh-where are you t-taking me?"

Alpha Trion's gaze was cool as he regarded the lawyer. "To the grand court of Iacon, of course. You have an appointment to appeal the decision on your son's custody," he supplied.

The effect was instantaneous. "N-no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no," the golden retriever hyperventilated, fingers scratching at the black leather seating. He snapped his helm side to side, shrinking further and further into himself as the earlier nausea tripled; threatening to rip up out of his throat and spew all over the car floor, along with his fears and grief. There was no way Rodimus could go back! He couldn't keep his son the first time -he definitely wasn't going to win anyone's favours this time, now that they believed Ultra Magnus was a saint.

"L-let me out!," he begged, twisting and hammering at the door again. "P-please! Just let me go back! I won't be any trouble! I can't-"

"Stop," a strong vocalizer snapped, grabbing hold of the red mech's wrist. Rodimus tried to yank free but his captor only yanked harder, turning the younger autodog back around to face the mayor. Ice blue optics stared fiercely into the weeping mech's own, and, slowly, Rodimus felt his panic start to shrink. "Calm your mind, my boy. You are not alone anymore," Alpha Trion said, low yet surely. "All will be well. Trust me."

And... he did. The fear was still there, clutching at his spark and driving an unshakable chill into his frame, but as long as he gazed back into those unflinching orbs, Rodimus would not cave under the weight of his own doubts. Seeing that the younger autodog was in better control of himself now, the mayor nodded, leaning back in his chair as he released the lawyer and lighting a pipe. The oddly pleasant scent of tobacco filling the car, Rodimus shifted tensely in his seat, his optics on the older mech as clutched at his pants anxiously.

The drive to Iacon was longer than he recalled... and yet, when they arrived at the court house some odd forty or so kliks later, still not long enough.

xxXxXxx

"I-i... I don''t want to go in. I can't."

Rodimus stared at the court room door, feeling his tanks clench painfully. He glanced at the wall-mounted clock in the hall, debating if he could still escape. A gentle, but firm, servo gripped his shoulder; Alpha Trion leaning around the younger autodog and opening the door.

"I'll take the lead, my boy," the old mech answered amicably, guiding the both of them forward, "No need to worry."

'Yeah, right,' Rodimus wanted to snap back, but his glossa wedged tightly in his mouth when he saw Ultra Magnus already seated at the plaintiff's desk. His pedes immediately attempted to turn around and run. Alpha Trion's grip merely tightened, pulling the golden retriever to the front quickly. Ducking his helm, Rodimus hurried into a chair, hoping that he would be ignored. It did not seem as though fortune was on his side.

"I'm sorry," Blackarachnia spoke up, smugness in her poisonous vocalizer, "But this is a private legal matter. I'm afraid you'll need to find another room to shoot your civil servant montage in, Mr. Mayor."

Alpha Trion smiled, setting his briefcase on the table. "Oh no, my dear, I am not here to film a public announcement. In fact, I am here as Mr. Rodimus' attorney."

A series of stunned gazes circled around the room. Claws tapping loudly at the tabletop, Blackarachnia fixed a pinched smile to her usually scowling visage. "Well," she drawled, "That's a lovely sentiment but a license is required to represent an individual in any civil affair and-"

"You mean such as this one?," Alpha Trion interrupted, pulling a laminated card from his briefcase. "It has been a while since I retired, but my services and my license are still valid, as deigned by the federal system. Which, if you would kindly correct me in the off-chance I am mistaken, means that I can act on Mr. Rodimus' behalf during these proceedings despite my current occupation."

The femme was glaring daggers at the mayor but before she could retort, the overseeing judge, previously olfactory-sensor deep into the case files, lifted his helm and adjusted his collar with a loud cough. "Whether or not you have a valid license, Mr. Trion, I regret to inform you that this case is already closed," the magistrate said. "Mr. Rodimus had his chance to defend his case but the proceedings of that orn, and the list of the defendant's transgressions, have enabled him unfit in the role of the bornling's guardian. We are here at this time merely to delegate this fact to your client; not argue over semantics."

The knotting in his tanks had gotten worse. Covering his mouth quickly, Rodimus desperately hoped not to purge, or worse, begin wailing right then and there at the table. Blackarachnia was smiling again beside the ever-silent Ultra Magnus while Alpha Trion ignored her, directing all his attention to the judge.

"Be that as it may, my client is still privy to a proper hearing and the assemblage this orn is to allow him a chance at reform before the final verdict," the old autodog proclaimed. "And given that my client was wrongly accused during the last meeting, I dare say he is more than justified at having his side of the matter heard!"

The judge stared on for a long klik, while Ultra Magnus leaned over to whisper something to Blackarachnia. The femme brushed the larger autodog off with a snap of her wrist, her narrowed optics watching Alpha Trion intently.

"Very well, Mr. Trion," the magistrate caved, "Please present your case."

Alpha Trion nodded solemnly, opening his briefcase a second time and pulling out a folder. "The last time my client attempted to defend himself, he did poorly. Understandable, as his bornling had just been removed from his care, and he was under emotional distress," the old autodog began. "I do not argue the point that it is the duty of my client to prepare for his hearing but I would like to bring to attention the unethical justification in the confiscation of his sparkling."

The mayor opened the file folder, fingering the first page within. "Two months ago, the bornling Hot Shot was removed from Mr. Rodimus' care and put into sparkling protective services. The reports given by the agent suggested that the bornling was removed on suspicions of neglect and abuse. I have here a copy of both the local vets' reports and SPS' evaluation, showcasing that Hot Shot was the healthiest any sparkling could be. Good weight, up on all his shots, keen and alert... Photographic evidence, supplied by my own client, even shows that Hot Shot's home was designed to meet all of his growing needs. Given the available information, SPS should have taken no longer than a week to run a thorough investigation and, given the anonymous tip was proven false, returned the bornling back to his creator's care immediately after. There was no need to progress further to family court. Instead, a hearing was scheduled the very next orn to contest Mr. Rodimus' guardianship over his own son less than twenty-four cycles after the bornling had been intercepted."

"Your honor," Blackarachnia interjected tersely, "It is policy that SPS arrange for next of kin to care for a sparkling as young as Hot Shot, as energon-linked caretakers have shown in studies to provide the best -mentally and physically- for young sparks. It also keeps from overwhelming foster homes, which house many sparklings of an older age and therefore are less equipped to take care of a fully dependant bornling. It is well within my client's rights to file for custody, given the surprising manner in which he discovered that he was a sire."

"And what fitting luck," Alpha Trion remarked, his gaze cool as he glanced toward the femme, "That a custody hearing was schedule the very next orn at the same time that Hot Shot was collected, allowing Mr. Magnus to find out a few cycles beforehand and to be here promptly, with yourself on hand my lady, to place his bid for full custody."

The judge knocked his gavel on the desk crisply, cutting off any scathing comments that might have left the black hybrid's mouth. "Mr. Trion," he spoke, scowling in frustration, "Do you have any sort of evidence to support those accusations you are inferring to?"

"No, your honor."

"Then may I suggest you stick to real facts and keep irrelevant conspiracies to yourself!"

"Of course, your honor," Alpha Trion replied, inclining his helm respectively to the magistrate. He shuffled through the papers in his servos in a calm and languid pace. "The plaintiff's representative grossly accused my client of being a criminal, going so far as to infer him as a sexual offender, tipping the previous judge's favour toward herself."

"Objection!," Blackarachnia hissed. "I relayed only the facts to the last magistrate. She spoke to the defendant and, based upon his own admissions, found him guilty."

The judge scowled, flipping through the files resting before him. "...There is no evidence of such a report made," he replied.

"But of course not," the old mech continued, walking forward and holding out the folder for the judge. The magistrate glanced at it momentarily, before taking it, spreading it across his desk and flipping through the pages himself. "As the plaintiff himself confessed last hearing, he 'did not want to file a report because of the history we share'. The history being, as noted before you, his own guardianship over Mr. Rodimus during the sudden absence of his creators in his youth."

"Mr. Magnus, as a servant of the law, why did you not file a proper report?," the judge demanded, glowering at the pair irritably.

Ultra Magnus straightened in his seat, his lip components separating minutely to speak. "I had gone through a rough period, I admit, of shameful drinking and experienced many nights of little to no memory. I wasn't aware of what had transpired between Rodimus and myself until much later. Much too late for a proper forensics test, either."

"We have already discussed this," Blackarachnia tacked on, arms crossed over her chestplates defensively. "The defendant took advantage of Mr. Magnus during his inebriation-"

"Took advantage of him?," Alpha Trion cut in. His tone was mockingly aghast. "Perhaps the course of action has changed in sexual assault suits, but the law dictated in my youthful orns that a matter of supposed intimate deviancy may not be brought forth into other civil cases until it had processed by the proper affiliates. Failing to file a report with the authorities or even undergo examination and forensics, all we have is the plaintiff's word that he was the victim of the bornling's creation -and he himself has no clear memory of that night or any events prior! Mr. Rodimus, do you have anything to add to the plaintiff's claims?"

The old autodog was looking at him now. Rodimus, having been listening to the proceedings with an anxiously thrumming spark, glanced up then; keeping his attention fixed solely between the judge and Alpha Trion. "I-i...," he mumbled, struggling to keep his vocalizer from fading out, "I n-never raped Mr. M-magnus. H-he... I-i was assisting him to t-the berth when h-he overpowered me..."

"And there in lies my point," the mayor said, allowing the golden retriever to drop his helm meekly. "The plaintiff clearly has no idea what happened when he was 'black-out drunk'; given my client's smaller size and his clearly obvious actions in fleeing Iacon following the events, it is quite possible that the plaintiff was the sexual assailant!"

Another crack of the gavel dissuaded any further remarks following Alpha Trion's statement; both lawyers waiting patiently as the judge picked up his pen. "Ms. Blackarachnia, it is the fault of your plaintiff and yourself for bringing such unsubstantiated charges to my bench and lengthening this already weary case. I am marking them off the record; I want only facts, not you or your client's opinions!"

"Yes, your honor," the femme responded, lip components twitching to hide her snarl.

The magistrate looked over the files, his pen moving occasionally as it followed along, before he laid it down. "Your client has a number of disparaging accounts against him still, Mr. Trion," he said, glancing up at the mayor. "Fraud, assuming legal duties under an uncertified identity..."

"Also false, your honor," Alpha Trion answered. "Apartment, cellular plan, bank accounts... They were all open, using his original papers and supported by the current ones he possesses now. Either identities are viable, as they are his own; one given to him at birth and the other supplemented when he went into the witness protection program."

"It says here that his case was unsolved," the judge frowned. "'Possible underground ties... suspicious disappearances...' These are serious matters, Mr. Trion. Given the openness of the case, it is ridiculously unwise for your client to resume using his former identity. It puts himself and the bornling at risk. And despite being a valid identity, Mr. Rodimus is still not allowed merely to transfer his credentials from one name to another without filing it through the proper channels first!"

"Agreed. My client's hastiness to switch to his old moniker were brash decisions made to keep from being followed by the plaintiff, once again inferring to a strained relationship between them. As for his credentials and imposing as a civil officer, I can assure you that it is not the case. In the folder before you, is a letter from my client's recent employer and a breakdown of his duties in their law firm. All were secretarial; not a single one required the individual pass the bar exam to execute them."

Silence descended as the judge flipped through the papers again, mouthing unheard words as he read quietly to himself. With a sigh, he closed the folder and shuffled everything together in one pile, beginning to rise. "We shall adjourn for a short recess. Please see to any matters that you need to in this time," he announced. "The hearing will resume in fifteen minutes once I've had time to overlook these latest reports."

And with a flap of his black sleeves, the magistrate left the room through the door in the back.

"Come," Alpha Trion smiled at the huddled autodog, "Let us get you a drink and some fresh air." Rodimus opened his mouth to protest, feeling as if he had no legs with which to support himself with, but the old mech simply grabbed his elbow and quickly guided him up the court room aisle, as though the younger lawyer was nothing more than a cloud. Seeing Ultra Magnus also stand as they headed for the doors, Rodimus suddenly found his pedes and took the lead as they entered out into the central hall.

He did not break his pace until they reached the cafeteria.

xxXxXxx

"In light of the matters presented before me today, I am hereby summoning an in-home evaluation to take place -the date which will be set following this hearing- and given that Mr. Rodimus meets all SPS requirements, granted dual-custody of the bornling in question to be effective immediately."

"I... I can't believe it..." The golden retriever burst from the court room, a wide smile across his face as he kept pace with Alpha Trion. "C-custody... I-i get custody again!"

"Shared, my boy," the old mech gently pointed out. He stroked at his beard as they walked, seemingly off-put by that fact. "Shared is not really the result I'd hoped for, but I do not blame the poor magistrate for feeling jerked around. Blackarachnia certainly has a forked glossa on her..."

Rodimus was barely paying attention, his vision of the long hallway blurred by the tears filling his optics. "P-primus... I c-can't... To h-hold him again," he wheezed, hugging himself. The red mech choked on a bubble of bittersweet laughter, recalling the way Hot Shot felt when cradled in his arms. He was going to have that back again! But what about all that he'd missed... Rodimus shook his helm quickly, rubbing at his face to clear away the tears. He would not think about that. He'd won. Alpha Trion had won! Soon enough, he'd see his son; hold him; hug him; kiss him. That's all that mattered.

"Rodimus? Are you listening?," the mayor asked, his tone slightly exasperated.

The golden retriever coughed, turning his attention to the old mech. "S-sorry, sir, I-i just... My son!"

"I am aware," Alpha Trion replied, chuckling a little himself at the childish grin splitting the younger autodog's face. "But we're not quite in the clear yet. You have to pass the social worker's inspection and, as the judge mentioned, you must negate all use of your previous identity until the case is solved or you have properly applied for transfer via the courts. Now, I have the list of guidelines here and-"

"Rodimus!"

The thunderous shout echoed throughout the court house, bringing any prior soft conversations to an absolute hush. Spinal struts ramrod straight, Rodimus turned slightly to meet the great dane marching through the foyer to intercept them. Ultra Magnus' fists were clenched at his sides; optics sharp with displeasure and his deep scowl carved down to nearly his chin. With all the frightening pace of an oncoming bullet train, the large mech closed the distance between them, brushing up against the smaller autodog as he towered over him. "What do you think you are doing?!," Ultra Magnus demanded, his vocalizer just falling short of a bellow.

Involuntarily, Rodimus gave a flinch. "I don't-"

"You refuse to answer my calls. You won't see me," the blue mech snapped, his optics boring into the younger lawyer as he flinched again, "Now you bring Alpha Trion into this; play me as a fool before the courts and judges -judges that I spend more time before on the job than you ever will! And for what?! Are you so petty that you will use any excuse to run from your problems instead of facing them like the mech I raised you to be!?"

"I-i-"

"Do not give me your back-talk!," Ultra Magnus interrupted a third time, a stern finger raising along with his words. "We are discussing the future of our son here! I will not-"

"Enough," Alpha Trion intoned, pulling Rodimus back a step and sliding between him and the looming great dane.

Ultra Magnus' torso swelled as he cycled intakes rapidly; the heat of his optics intensifying as he stared down upon the old mech. "Excuse me, Alpha Trion but this is a private matter between Rodimus and I, and-"

"I said, enough," the mayor repeated, the pitch of his vocalizer absolutely frigid to the audios. Though his posture had not changed, the atmosphere around the older autodog thrummed with silent warning. "You, Mr. Magnus, shall defer to me as 'Mr. Mayor' and no more. And as far as my client goes," he added, leaning up into the blue mech's face, "You will refrain from calling, texting, emailing, faxing and any other means of communicating with him, until the court has finalized all custody procedures. Even then, the only time with which you may contact Mr. Rodimus is in regards to young Hot Shot's affairs. Continue with your current course of action and we will swiftly see you in court for harassment, stalking and any other misdemeanours you have or have yet to commit. With such charges on your record, I believe it'll be very unlikely you'll retain custody of 'your son'... Isn't that right, Ms. Blackarachnia?"

The femme, who had been standing in the background, watching quietly as the events unfolded, glowered nastily at Alpha Trion as she was addressed. It was a look that spoke volumes of her complete hatred toward the older mech. She managed to pry her jaw open after a lengthy moment though, hissing a "Come along, Mr. Magnus," before turning back up the hall they had originally come from.

Ultra Magnus continued to stare down upon the old autodog and his foster son with -anger? Disbelief? Betrayal?- then he too was turning about, following after the sharp click-clack of Blackarachnia's heels. Only after the pair had disappeared from sight completely did the mayor turn to face Rodimus again, his entire expression softening. "Are you alright, my boy?"

Coolant burned hotly in his optics as the golden retriever painfully uncurled his shaking fists, unaware that he'd clenched them so tight as to leave cutting dents in his palm. "Y-yeah...," he choked, paused, forcing out an even intake and wiping quickly at his face as he looked to the floor, "Yeah, I-i... I'm fine..."

Clearly he wasn't, but Alpha Trion did not press. He stroked at his beard, bouncing his briefcase against his knee in signal before walking calmly towards the courthouse doors once more. Quietly, Rodimus followed. "I'll monitor the progress on your case; have my secretaries forward you any news the moment I receive it. The priority for now is to give your home a thorough run-down, ensure all is to SPS' codes, and you'll pass the inspection with flying colours!," he informed cheerfully, heading down the long concrete staircase to his limo, sitting patiently at the curb. "So let's get to the house while the orn is still young and double-check that list!"

The red mech nodded absentmindedly, climbing into the back of the limo when the old mech held the door open for him; buckling up and staring at his knees while the vehicle pulled away. It was only after they drove onto the highway that Rodimus finally processed what the mayor had said last, his helm snapping upwards with alarming speed. "I'm sorry, did you say... h-house?"

xxXxXxx

Twenty-five kliks later, the limo was rolling to a stop outside a line of townhouses, on a quiet avenue lined with young saplings. "W-where... where are we?," the golden retriever managed to vocalize, turning his befuddled gaze from the window and towards Alpha Trion. He'd been watching the streets intently, trying to get a grasp of their heading for a while now, but he'd clearly missed any road signs indicating where they were and recognized nothing.

"Hm? Oh, yes," the mayor huffed, seeming to have roused from a sudden nap. He, too, turned and looked out the window with a smile. "This is Ibex. I know, it's fairly easy to forget. Outside of the racing circuits, people don't usually take the time to visit the city and its other businesses."

"Ibex?" That name was familiar. Rodimus frowned slightly, his brow furrowed. "But... Why am I here? I have nothing in Ibex!"

Alpha Trion's smile broadened. "That's changed now, my boy. Come along," he instructed, reaching over and opening the door. Ignoring the younger autodog's frustrated look, the old mech slid out of the limo, strutting casually up the avenue while Rodimus scrambled out of the backseat after him.

"Sir, I really-"

A servo lifted up, cutting the golden retriever off. He paused, watching peculiarly as the mayor turned to one of the townhouses and began ascending the lengthy staircase up to the front porch. Slowly, Rodimus let his optics rise, taking in the structure before him. It was a three-story home; the bottom level the garage, the top two the remainder of the actual house. It had cream-coloured vinyl siding with large bay windows in pristine, white trimming mounted on the bulk of its face; a few extra square windows added in the remaining empty spaces to allow for plenty of natural light. A narrow concrete planter sat in the open space between this townhouse and the one it was physically connected to, spilling over with vibrant purple hydrangea bushes. The garage door was painted in candy red with shining brass numbers advocating its street number but when the lawyer looked to see if the front door also matched in colour, he was stunned to find a big, brown panther blocking his view.

"What is he doing here?!," Rodimus snapped, bounding up the townhouse stairs two at a time. Blackout, sitting on the concrete steps, dressed in his usual leather coat and puffing away at a cygar, suddenly took notice of the pair coming up the staircase; quickly squashing out the rest of his cygar and straightening to his full height.

Alpha Trion ignored the indignant mech behind him, nodding his helm in greeting to the kittycon. "I presume everything is prepared?," he inquired, to the silent shock of his companion, servos folded before his abdomen.

"Yeah," Blackout answered, smoke spewing from the corners of his mouth as he spoke. "Just finished bolting in the last of the gates. Berthroom might still need a few kliks to air out. Uh, here's the keys." He dug deep in one of his coat's pockets, knocking balls of lint, bits of leftover food and even a dead roach out of his servo, as he handed over a keyring to the mayor.

"What?," Rodimus yelped, his optics flicking back and forth between the two older mechs. "Why is Blackout here? How do you know him? Why are you here?!," he spat last, rounding a glare onto the panther. The thug scowled back, his jaw clenching tightly shut.

"Now, now, Rodimus," Alpha Trion tsked. "Let's not be rude, shall we? Your friend was the one who brought my attention to your unfortunate case regarding Hot Shot. If not for him, I would not have been able to help you as I did this orn. And as for why he's here, currently, well, I asked him to handle some tasks for me while we were busy at the courthouse."

A cold stone dropped into the pit of the lawyer's fuel tank. "W-what... what tasks? Blackout is not my friend!," he added quickly, forcing another glare the panther's way as a means to distract himself from the fear wriggling nauseatingly in his gut.

The older autodog shuttered his optics quietly at the statement. "No? Oh, well... Anyways, come along! There's some matters we can discuss while we take a tour of your new home," he continued cheerfully, scooting past Blackout's bulk as the thug tried to squeeze out of the way, and right through the open townhouse door.

The golden retriever gave the kittycon one last, hateful glance as he also shuffled past the thug, keeping his tail tucked down tightly to dissuade any attempts at grabbing it. All thoughts of Blackout, and the schemes he had planned, flew right out of Rodimus' helm the moment he stepped past the threshold -the townhouse, he discovered, was not as empty as he had expected. In a daze, the red mech wandered through the hallway, passing through the living room, dining room and into the kitchen, marveling at the sight before his optics. Everything. The house had everything. Each room had been furnished with everything Rodimus could have ever wanted or needed, and even some items that he would never have thought to purchase himself. The lawyer came to a pause at the kitchen counter, looking out onto the modest-sized yard, a little jungle gym with swing, perfect for a small sparkling, already constructed on the grass. Rodimus cycled a shaky intake, gripping the counter as vertigo hit him. This... He could imagine living here.

"Come, come," Alpha Trion urged from the staircase, its mouth opening up into the kitchen. "Up this way!"

Rodimus went after him, still stupified. The second landing was equally as dressed as downstairs: the main bathroom, the linen room with brand new washer and dryer, the master berthroom complete with its own private bathroom... All filled to the brim with new possessions. Even his old, ratty suitcase was there, sitting on the freshly made berth. This had to be a dream, the golden retriever contemplated distantly. There was no way this could be happening to him right now! He snapped from his thoughts for a moment as he heard a vocalizer clear loudly from across the hall; peeking out of the master berthroom to see the mayor standing at another door.

"I believe this is the room you most want to see, dear boy." Quietly, the red mech crossed over, walking inside hesitantly as Alpha Trion swung the door open.

The moment he stepped inside, Rodimus felt every intake rip from his frame in one, shaky gasp. Still smelling of fresh paint, four baby blue walls surrounded him. On the floor, hardwood peeked out between a plush white rug and a patch of multi-coloured foam tiles. A rocking chair sat between the crib and changing table, perfectly nestled in the sunlight pouring through the white and blue curtains. A bookshelf and toy bin, already filled, sat flush against the wall at opposite points of the room, featuring cute depictions of rabbits that appeared periodically on the walls and even the closet door. The closet -not too be forgotten- already had clothes hanging, ready and waiting, with spare hangers standing by. It did not escape the autodog's notice that many of the items had come from his own nursery. "T-this...," the lawyer choked, feeling tears fill his optics as he pressed a servo to his mouth, "This i-is..."

"Your new nursery," Alpha Trion supplied, stepping inside. He paused beside the golden retriever, not saying a word or otherwise acknowledging the younger mech as he hugged himself, overcome with emotion. "You needed a good home for your pup and yourself," the mayor went on, stroking his beard casually as he looked about. "This one should meet all of the social worker's requirements and more. Plus, with the new job you don't want to be traveling long hours on the road, missing out on-"

"J-job?," Rodimus sniffled, interrupting the other mech as he looked up. "What do you m-mean new job?"

Alpha Trion gave a mock huff at being cut off, but his smile informed his companion that he was not serious. "Well, you can't obviously remain in that other town or your place of business once it comes about that you used a fake identity, meaning you'd require a fresh start, so I took the liberty of making some calls. The spaceport needs a new lawyer for their legal department -they've been making advancements to the old labs on the eastern side of the city; exploratory science beyond Cybertron's surface is the next big thing, you know!- and seeing as you are familiar with a lot of Iacon's own scientists, I put in my recommendation and they thought you'd be a great fit. I actually have..."

The old autodog trailed off for a moment as he reached into the interior of his suit jacket, pulling out a thin packet of papers, unfolding them before nodding and handing them over to the shocked Rodimus. "The information for your starting orn and a quick run-down of what you'll need, etc etc. I know the work isn't quite what you're used to, but we do need something within your skill set quickly, so as to get young Hot Shot returned to you as soon as possible. And again, you'll likely end up working with some previous associates back in Iacon, so it's a much smoother transition than looking elsewhere."

His servos were shaking as Rodimus took the packet from Alpha Trion. "Y...y-you're not joking," he stuttered, the tears pooling in his optics again as he faced the mayor. "Y-you... T-this is really a-all mine? M-my home? M-my baby... M-my baby's room? A-all of it? Real?!"

The old mech smiled broadly, stroking his beard. "Yes, dear boy. Everything has been taken care of. Now- Oof!" Alpha Trion was cut off suddenly as Rodimus threw himself at the wizened autodog, arms wrapped around him tightly as he buried his wet face into the other's chestplates.

"T-Thank you! Oh, Primus! Th-thank you so much, s-sir!," the golden retriever wheezed, dissolving into a fresh bout of tears.

"There, there...," Alpha Trion sighed good-naturedly, patting the younger mech's back until Rodimus had finally regained his composure. "Now," he went on when the golden retriever pulled away, glancing at his wrist watch, "I'm afraid that I can't stay longer. Things to take care of at city hall and all that... You should take this opportunity to see the rest of your home and get settled. There's a grocery store a few blocks down and some pleasant local diners too, which will solve your dinner problems for tonight."

"O-ok," Rodimus vented, wiping quickly at his face for the umpteenth time that orn. "T-thank you. Really. I just..."

"I understand," the old autodog replied, pulling out his cell and sending a text. "I must speak to Blackout before I... Right. Have a goodnight, my boy," Alpha Trion grinned, holding out a servo. "You take care." The red mech clasped the mayor's servo, giving it a hard squeeze and shake, before they separated; Alpha Trion exiting the room with a quick but purposeful gait.

Despite his better judgement, the golden retriever quietly followed at a slower pace, tip-toeing down the staircase. He paused, noticing that Blackout had moved his way into the house; he stood in the kitchen, smoking another cygar as Alpha Trion approached him.

"You know, that's not really the best habit," the mayor commented.

The panther grunted. "Don't really recall askin'..."

"Consider it 'unsolicited advice'. Anyways," Alpha Trion said, reaching again into his suit jacket. "Here you go: a couple thousand credits for your time. You actually did a better job than I anticipated with the painting. I'm especially impressed that the only holes in the walls were the intentional ones." The thug's upper lip component curled a little at the back-handed compliment, but he remained, for the most, part silent as the older mech handed him a folded envelope. "Now, I'm heading out. Do you require a lift back to Iacon?"

"No," Blackout answered, shaking his helm. "I can manage on my own."

"Hmm...," the autodog hummed, not sounding overtly convinced. He didn't say anything more though than a farewell and to instruct the panther to contact city hall should there be any future troubles, and left; the sound of the front door clicking softly shut behind Alpha Trion's exit.

An astrosecond after the sound, Rodimus was flying down the stairs, shoving into Blackout roughly. "What the slag are you doing?!," he growled, pushing the panther again. "Running to Alpha Trion? Telling everyone my business! What else did you say, huh? WHAT ELSE!?"

Blackout barely even rocked at the autodog's shoves, his face pinching irritably. "I only mentioned Hot Shot! Nothing else... Heesh. As for what I'm doing, the old coot asked me here. Said I could make myself useful, do some fixing-upping. Promised I'd get paid too," he answered.

"Oh, isn't that so slagging charitable of you! Well, I don't need your help!," Rodimus snapped, turning away from the thug. He threw open the fridge door, slamming a couple of cupboard doors as well, venting his anger and distracting himself from the others' presence. The recollection of the way he'd acted around Blackout in the last month burned in the forefront of his processor, the shame making him sick to his spark.

The brown mech grunted, puffing harder on his cygar; shoving Alpha Trion's envelope into his coat somewhere. "Yeah, I know," he grumbled as the lawyer turned to him again.

"And that?!," the red mech blew up anew, rounding on the panther. "You fragging smoke now? Put that out! I will not have you poisoning my home!"

Blackout glared at Rodimus, finding his sudden hostility both baffling and incredibly annoying. Ignoring the autodog's request, the thug fished deeper into his coat, pulling out a familiar rabbit plushie. Rodimus snatched it away at once, pressing it to his chestplates as the kittycon took another puff. "You could be a little nicer, ya know, seeing as I got the old fart to win your pup back," he said, "But sure, hate me and not Magnus, when I've only ever-"

The panther was silenced momentarily by a pede kicking the side of his mouth, causing him to stagger back a few steps. Blackout stared at the floor, dazed, as Rodimus regained his balance following the roundhouse kick. The golden retriever wasn't finished though and he lunged forward, fist swinging out for a punch that did not land. Something snapped inside the thug and he reacted at once; grabbing the flying fist and yanking its owner forward. Rodimus managed a gasp before his helm was caught in one massive servo, Blackout keeping momentum and throwing the autodog into the floor next. Cycling heavily, the panther refocused on reality, processing the situation that had just transpired; a stone of dread dropping into the pit of his fuel tanks as he realized it was Rodimus that he had slammed into the tiled floor.

"A-are you...?," he started nervously, pulling his claws slowly off of the red mech's helm. Rodimus bucked the moment the panther's servo began to lift from his frame, kicking the thug's elbow and shoving his claws aside. Blackout roared out in pain, deflecting the servo trying to chop at his fat neck cables next; snarling as he threw the autodog back into the kitchen cupboards this time, with a loud thunk.

A brown ear twitched atop his helm as he rubbed at his throbbing elbow. Had he just heard...? The lawyer had gathered his senses again and was attacking a third time, clutching a frying pan he'd pulled from one of the lower cupboards. The panther grabbed Rodimus' wrist and servo in his mighty claws as he took a swing at the larger mech, squeezing until the golden retriever's fingers gave way under the crushing force with a pitiful yip, allowing the pan to clatter to the floor. A chilling scowl on his face, Blackout forced the autodog back to the tile floor; grabbing at his pants with his other servo and yanking so hard that the fabric ripped away in pieces.

The red mech began to kick wildly, his other servo clawing to free his captured wrist, all while screaming curses and threats at the thug. The kittycon ignored them all, having already spotted the naked valve -wet and uncovered for all to see. Heat bloomed immediately in his codpiece. With a flick of his servo, Blackout flipped Rodimus onto his abdomen, holding the lawyer down by the centre of his back as his other servo fumbled with his pants' zipper.

"Fragger!," Rodimus shrieked. "Let me go! G'OFF!"

The panther licked his lip components, his efforts doubling as he looked upon the tantalizing sight hungrily. Finally, with a wiggle, he'd managed to get his pants down enough. Rodimus snarled, bucking once more, and at the precise instant his aft lifted into the air, Blackout struck forward. The autodog's curses cut with a choking yip; a keen escaping clenched denta.

The panther worried for a fraction of an astrosecond if his rashness had hurt the lawyer... Sounds spilled from Rodimus' mouth -not the demands and shrieks of violence as before, instead wanton cries of need drawn forth between warbled, pitiful names and broken insults. The thug brushed them all aside. Then he frowned sullenly.

So this was how it was going to be, Blackout noted. Him and the red mech were back at square one.

The panther glared, feeling a wave of anger, annoyance -a whole bunch of stuff he didn't know- rise up within him, causing every sensor to itch ferociously. He needed to get out. Walk. Punch someone. Do something other than be here right now. Blackout rose to his pedes quickly, yanking his pants up while the golden retriever still lay prone on the kitchen floor. He was so vulnerable in this position, beautiful, and those little huffs as his intakes reset...

No, the kittycon snapped at himself silently. He was out of here. The autodog be damned. Lighting up a new cygar, Blackout stalked from the townhouse, determined to catch the next city bus back to Iacon and move on with his life. That would be the sensible thing to do.

But, like the idiot he was, the panther knew he'd be right there the moment Rodimus called for him. To be used however the red mech wanted. No matter the cycle.

C.M.D: Ah~ Such a deliciously heavy chapter. Intense court room fights, confrontational fraggers, hate sex... Perfect! And with all this, I am sad to inform, that this is the end of Rodimus' story. I know, I know... It's so bittersweet, is it not? Alas, such is life sometimes! But, my dear readers, let's focus on the good: at least Rodimus got his son back, even if he missed out on a happily ever after. It is time for moi to move on to other things... and complete/start the hundreds of stories buzzing in my head. Anywho, this concludes October's updates! Happy Halloween everyone! And as always...
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please?