Title: Mainframe III
Rating: T
When Mainframe reclaimed his office that evening, it was to find Ratchet still there; hunkered over a counter in solemn silence. Rarely did one ever see the vet in such a deathly serious state and it was certainly an off-putting scenario to be in. Tapping at his tablet's casing anxiously, Mainframe deliberated heading for his desk or leaving altogether for a lengthy klik, before skittering towards his chair, hoping that his actions would go unnoticed.
Of course, it wasn't, as the vet snapped out of his daze with a forcible cough, shuffling his things together. "Sorry, Mainframe," he gruffed. "I meant to be out of your office four cycles ago. Won't be here for more than just a couple kliks."
Mainframe nodded absentmindedly, realizing belatedly that with his back turned to the other mech, Ratchet could not see his response. As no further words followed the labrador's last statement, the programmer took that to mean he wasn't under any obligation to engage further, and he quickly took to his seat, relief rushing into him once his fingers were resting on his keyboard again.
"So...uh... What's this many computers for?," came Ratchet's question.
Mainframe cringed. He'd really hoped... "Department database and security detailing," the cocker collie mumbled.
The older autodog glanced over a shoulder while he laid instruments and folders back into his travel case. "Really? And they let you keep all this in your office?"
The red mech opened up some of the orn's daily reports on the jumbo monitor, hoping that their presence would press the vet to leave quicker. "Yes."
A grunt of surprise from Ratchet. "So, you really are management then. I didn't think you'd willingly apply for such a position."
"No," Mainframe hurriedly corrected. "No, not officially." Primus forbid the labrador think that he actually wanted to socialize with others. "I'm a programmer. I program. These computers are my job. ...Unfortunately, I am in charge of other stuff, as it's all stored and run through here." He pointed to one of the largest server towers closest to him, beaming unconsciously in pride. He'd coded some of his best work in that one.
The cocker collie missed the look Ratchet gave him at that moment; the old autodog turning slowly and returning to his packing after a thoughtful pause. The sound of his case locks snapping shut startled Mainframe back to reality, but the programmer was soothed when he saw the vet finally pulling on his coat.
"Well, that's it for me," Ratchet said, grabbing his bulky case next. "I'll message you next time I require your facilities. Good night, Mainframe."
The red mech made a small sound of acknowledgement deep in his vocalizer, watching via a minimized security feed on his desk top as the labrador left his office and headed for the elevator. The orn had been much too long, Mainframe grumbled quietly to himself, but finally he had his sanctuary all to himself again. Now all he needed to do was run a dozen different scans and user activity logs to ensure that nothing had been touched and he could get on with his usual duties.
xxXxXxx
It was just another morning of never-ending monotony, in a stagnant sea of repetition week after week, but once again Streetwise was up and about, forcing himself through the blandness of life. He could have chosen to stay home and stare at the wall all orn, as he was prone to do often, but there was a flame-like itch under his plating still from the incident the other orn and he was under strict orders from Yoketron to see Brainstorm or Ratchet in regards to these matters. Unfortunately, Brainstorm was currently unreachable (for unknown reasons), which only left Ratchet, thus why the akita was out bright and early this morning. Thanking the barista, Streetwise took his bag of donuts and hot oil tray, heading back out onto the city hall forecourt with his usual sashay. The hospital was just across the way, buzzing with activity out front like it always was, but the cyborg felt his attention drawn just slightly to the left, optics lighting on the smaller Science Department positioned on the east side. Pausing for barely a moment, the akita adjusted his path and headed towards the building.
"Oh, hey it's you!"
Streetwise slowed his pace as the door swung shut quietly behind himself, canting his helm half an inch curiously at the bulldog gesturing wildly in his direction.
"Yeah, yeah," the stout autodog exclaimed excitedly, his helm fins flashing a myriad of bright colours, "The bombshell that Mainframe collapsed at." The white mech paused to laugh, the gathered guards joining in with him. "Primus, watching him wake up in your lap... Priceless. Shame the footage couldn't load the beginning. I always enjoy a good Mainframe spazz fest."
"Oh?," the akita said, nearing the desk, "Is that the poor mech's name?"
"Huh?," the bulldog replied smartly. He stood and composed himself; fist-bumping a couple of the guards and exchanging discs, before he turned back to the slimmer mech. "Oh, yeah. Mainframe, that's him. I'm guessing ya were worried about him. I mean, there's no need to be really. The guy does that a lot around new people. But, hey, if you're already here, might as well check up on the shut-in."
"Oh, no, I-," Streetwise attempted to protest, but the stranger was already pulling the carry-out tray of hot oil out of his two servos and setting them, along with the bag of donut treats, on the security desk, before yanking the other 'bot to the elevator. Well, the akita decided good-naturedly, he could always grab some more refreshments afterwards. Besides, he was really curious to know the well-being of this so-called 'Mainframe'.
"By the way," the bulldog chirped merrily as they boarded the elevator together, a digit pressing for the second floor from the top, "The name's Wheeljack."
"Streetwise," the cyborg politely returned. "So... You mentioned that this was commonplace for Mainframe?"
His companion, Wheeljack, nodded, optics on the floor indicator as they rose. "Yeah, totally. Mainframe's like... agrophobic or something? But he's also a complete snob about some stuff, so we enjoy trying to throw new 'bots his way. Staff changes very rarely -I mean, who'd give up this super awesome job, especially with those benefits- so he might seem super normal around us oldies, but he still won't talk to our new guy, Bulkhead, and that pup joined us over a stellar cycle ago! So, yeah... we enjoy messing with him. It's all in good fun though and the fainting happens a lot, with or without our interference."
Streetwise hummed. "And I am...?"
The bulldog scratched an ear sheepishly. "An excuse to frag with him some more," he confessed. The elevator dinged as they reached their floor. "Oh, lookit that! We're here!"
He hopped out of the lift, dragging the akita behind by the cuff of his sleeve, pulling the both of them down the hall to a familiar sliding door. Before the slim autodog could question it, Wheeljack was banging on the steel vigorously, yelling, "Yo! Mainframe! Open up, I need ya to socialize!"
A klik passed and nothing changed, resulting in the bulldog to return to beating on the door with a groan.
"Mainframe! Put the lotion away; your mechfriend is here to put you to work!"
Streetwise glanced at the stout mech amusedly, but did not comment on the juvenile taunt, looking at the steel door himself intently. There was no response still, but after a few more of Wheeljack's pounds, Streetwise heard a gentle whirr of machinery, echoing from the topmost corner. A glance upwards revealed the source to be a security camera angled towards the pair; its red light blinking in rapt attention. The bulldog, noticing, let out a disappointed huff; facing the camera as well.
"Aw, c'mon," he groaned, "Using the security cameras again? You cheat! You shoulda answered the door- it's just me and this gorgeous mech whose lap your helm was resting in like a couple of ol' lovebirds yesterorn. Would it kill you to engage in some personal relations? ...Admittedly for my amusement, but c'moooooon, Mainframe. Computers aren't everything you know!"
This statement was met with an angry alarm shrieking out from a sound system on the other side of the heavy doors, loud enough to cause Wheeljack to clap his servos over his helm. "Alright!," he yelled, "We're leaving! Shut-in!"
Facing Streetwise again, the stout mech's optics crinkled in apology, his companion gestured back to the elevator, saying, "Sorry your visit was a waste. Usually, Mainframe will pop open the door if it's one of us, but I guess Ratchet booting him out of his 'safe space' this last week has made him super crabby. He'll probably be holed up there until some other super emergency crops up... Or Ratchet shows up again. Either way, sorry that I messed up you seeing him again."
"Please, do not apologize," the akita smiled amicably, "Seeing our dear Mainframe wasn't a necessity; just knowing he is his usual self is good enough."
"Oh..." Wheeljack shuttered his optics in surprise. "Well, happy to help all the same!" He called the elevator again, the pair boarding before he made a thoughtful sound. "Um, odd question but, uh, how did you even run into Mainframe up here anyhow?"
Streetwise pushed for the ground floor, sending a sweet smile the other autodog's way. "Entirely accidental, I'm afraid. I arrived during guard shift change or something, and decided to wander, thinking I might come across some help. And I ran into Mainframe first."
Wheeljack nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Well, if you ever feel like coming by again -though I don't really think Mainframe is worth wasting a trip- you can always find me in the engineering lab. I'm down to help with anything."
The cyborg chuckled softly. "I'll keep that in mind." Shaking servos with the bulldog, Streetwise headed for the building's entrance, unperturbed that his breakfast treats for Ratchet were gone. He could always purchase more at the hospital cafe, considering he'd confirmed now that the labrador would not be here this orn. As he grabbed for the door handle, his cyber-enhanced hearing picked up the whirr of several small machines moving in the lobby; a casual glance back proving that once again Mainframe was spying on the autodog. That, in its own capacity, was actually quite adorable. Maybe the akita would be back for the sake of seeing what childish antics Mainframe would get up to. Tucking the idea away for a later time, Streetwise exited the Science Department, focusing on the hospital as his next destination.
xxXxXxx
A loud chirp erupted in the low hum of machines, frightening Mainframe out of his seat as his office doors opened in response. He peered over the arm, watching in mounting horror as the familiar form of Alpha Trion strode into the heart of his office. "Hello?," the mayor called out, squinting to see in the dim blue haze barely piercing the dark, "Oh, for the love of... There has to be somebody here still- the guards said so!"
Mainframe cursed the loose glossas on his security team, eyeing beneath his desk for a safe place to hide among the wires and power cords. Just as he was inching into a cozy little nook between the wall and a power bank, he realized he had forgotten his tablet and eased back out; his servo fumbling blindly for the device on his desk, before it was snatched unexpectedly.
With a squeal, the programmer was yanked out of hiding, forced into standing before the older mech. "Well, finally," Alpha Trion sighed. "I've been waiting for over twenty kliks now, Mainframe. Where is my representative for the gala tonight?"
The cocker collie froze. Gala? What gala was the mayor referring too? One look into the mayor's disapproving face and the programmer felt his fuel tank drop to the bottom of his pedes.
"Don't tell me, pup... You forgot, didn't you? How could you possibly forget?! I sent you a memo a couple weeks ago now." The taller autodog made a sound in exasperation, releasing his captive, but waggling his finger in warning at the programmer. "Don't you dare try skittering away either! This is an egregious oversight on your part and we need to remedy this fast."
Mainframe could only swallow sharply, feeling a dizzy spell coming on as the mayor began to mumble to himself as he looked the cocker collie over. He vaguely recalled now seeing Alpha Trion's name somewhere in his inbox subject listings while dealing with further correspondences between Ratchet and himself over the last week, but he hadn't once further investigated, busy as he was. Primus... That had been for a social event? Why had he not checked it before now?! The mayor rarely ever contacted him unless it was for similar public gatherings!
"Honestly, Mainframe, you're not this disorganized usually but I really need someone from the Department to advocate for new funding." Alpha Trion sighed again, his beard twitching as he grimaced slightly before the other's fearful optics."Trust me, you are not my first choice either. You typically assign someone, like Perceptor, for these kinds of events but, alas, you're the only one here and there's ten minutes before the opening ceremonies. So, let's slap a suit on you and get mingling!"
Mainframe opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, a strangling sound escaping, which the mayor promptly ignored in favour of grabbing the cocker collie's arm and pulling him from the office.
xxXxXxx
It was predictably busy in the hotel's ballroom; servers moving about frequently to supply their prestigious guests with high-grade and frilly little appetizers, while a full orchestral band played on one side of the room. Did some have truly nothing better to do, than throw around credits and flaunt their misrepresented status to the 'lesser masses', Streetwise mused to himself. Sure, there was some pleasure to be found in a luxury here or there, but the gilded decor and crystal chandeliers and silken curtains hanging beside five-story french-paned windows were beyond ostentatious. It was downright disgusting, actually. So many of those gathered tonight were innocent -unmarred by a war that had only ended a few decades past- but how quickly that naivety turned into willful ignorance. The akita wondered morbidly how the corporate tycoons would respond if the chandelier-laden roof, with its hand-painted heavenly mural, were to suddenly collapse upon them all without warning.
The cyborg hissed as an electrifying jolt ran across his sensory grid; the fingers on his left servo twitching sporadically for a moment before locking up entirely, mimicking the combat system that tried to flare into action, before it met with a painfully grinding halt. Streetwise tucked his frozen arm down beneath the table top at the same time that he smoothed his faceplates. It was with practiced ease that he did not groan piteously at the ever-familiar burn that followed. Cycling his intakes for several long astroseconds, the white mech eventually glanced down at his numb arm, hiding a tiny frown. It had been a long time since his weaponry had attempted to come out of stasis, the mech noted mutely, reaching with his good servo for the champagne flute he had set on the table earlier. He knew he had undergone much reform by Brainstorm's efforts, yet even the ingenious scientist was out of his depth when it came to fully understanding Scorponok's mastery of necromantic machinery. Brainwashing could be undone, given time, and programmed circuitry could be subdued... But clearly things were worse than Yoketron, or Brainstorm, or even Ratchet were letting on. Streetwise was dying- that much was evident each time his mechanical parts failed more and more. After all, Scorponok had never intended him to live forever; just as Sixshot, the akita was a means to an end. An expandable, if formidable, weapon in an evil mech's grander scheme. But where Sixshot was simply a clone, Streetwise was not. Instead, the akita's CNA had been used as grounds for eccentric machine experimentation -blending the natural with the unnatural.
"They are trying to save something that can not be salvaged...," the mech whispered to himself, shuttering his optics momentarily as he took a drink.
Daily, his transbiological components were being eroded by the deadly weaponry built among his frame, until soon enough, there would be nothing at all. Yoketron must have known this; surely, he was trying to stop the inevitable only because of Streetwise's familial connections. Of course, it was because of his family that the white mech had been distancing himself from them, little by little, the first time he felt the neural burn. His second death would no doubt be hard on them- and possibly messy, if his dying meant that his innate programming took over for even a few kliks before his frame failed completely. Alas, it seemed the ancient autodog was aware of his intentions. Why else force the cyborg to stay in Iacon, to be seen by two specialists so closely involved in his family's lives? Streetwise onlined his optics, smiling to himself. He couldn't really fault Yoketron for his well-meaning, if not sly, methods... but sending him to an overly-populated gala in Iacon's bustling downtown? Now, that was just poor judgement on the ancient autodog's part.
Barely scanning the crowd, the cyborg found his target of the evening, Megatron, speaking to yet another gaggle of industry leaders. Watching the grey tabby for another klik, Streetwise could understand why Shockwave absolutely loathed his undercover mission. Sure, Galvatron's sparkling wasn't seemingly the worst person to surround oneself with -so long as you kept your wits, and an even sharper glossa, about you- but his bondmate... Well, let's just say that Starscream was a collection of all the most horrendous personality traits Streetwise ever had the displeasure of coming across, placed in a beautifully misleading package. And seeing as how the abyssinian had accompanied Megatron tonight, the dramatics seemed likely to erupt any moment that the sour-faced kittycon reached for another glass of champagne. It would perhaps liven things up a bit, Streetwise mused, even if it meant that his one-time surveillance of Megatron would become somewhat difficult.
"Ladies and Gentlemechs," a microphone buzzed to life, the orchestra pausing abruptly. Helms turned at once to the source of the sound, necks craning towards the entry doors simultaneously. Streetwise, locking his scanners onto Megatron's spark pulse-rates, allowed his own attention to drift across the room; his visual pixels resetting as he took in the party's newest arrivals. "Mayor Alpha Trion."
A few moments of silence followed the microphone's absence, filled with quick whispers as the mayor -dragging along a shorter, unwilling guest- entered the ballroom with a grand flourish and more than a few brief greetings. Just as Streetwise tuned his audio receptors to listen in on the wizened autodog from where he sat, the orchestra picked up where it had previously left off, effectively drowning out anything that the cyborg might have intercepted with the wind section's shrill notes. Limiting his range back to normal input, Streetwise mulled over remaining in his seat and continuing his covert surveillance of Megatron, or meeting with Alpha Trion, if even for a few kliks. Well, when one considered how short interactions with the mayor usually were, and especially how dull this mission had been thus far, it really wasn't much of a debate Streetwise surmised, rising to his pedes and stepping across the ballroom.
His proximity sensors pinged (belatedly, no surprise) as a figure stepped into the cyborg's path, blocking his view of the mayor. "My, aren't you a gorgeous one," the mech smiled broadly, optics mapping out Streetwise's frame from helm to pede. The akita barely refrained from rolling his optical sensors. He was definitely thinking he should have picked the beige, empire gown in his closet for this evening, instead of the sparkly, navy-coloured mermaid gown he was currently wearing. So many unsolicited comments and proposals he'd had to endure in the last cycle...
"If you'd excuse me...," the cyborg said crisply, moving to step around the other autodog.
"Now, now," the stranger hummed condescendingly, grabbing Streetwise's arm so he could not pass, "Surely, you have nothing better to do this evening. I noticed you sat by yourself for the last few kliks; seeing as you lack any stones, you are not the spouse of anyone important here, thus your presence is for other reasons. And please, let's not make excuses. Tonight is for charity -you can either allow me to be 'charitable' upon yourself or you will come to regret your resistance come dawn."
So the other autodog took him for a whore, huh? The white mech slowly met the arrogant aft's optics, pistons tensing in anticipation beneath his plating as he glowered at the stranger's slimy grin. The slagger believed he was holding Streetwise in place by his own strength; honestly, if the white mech hadn't held himself still at the other's bare touch, the cyborg would have easily swept the stranger across the marble floor. Even now, it would be so simple to grab the offender's wrist and throw him through one of the ballroom windows... Perhaps just a little squeeze instead? "This will your only warning: Release me. Now," the akita intoned softly.
The party-goer's grin twisted into a predictable snarl of outrage. "You dare refuse-?!"
"Oh, my," a third vocalizer interjected, cutting off the rich autodog before he could get his tirade going, "I hope your pride is not so damaged by a simple rejection."
Helm snapping to the side in surprise, the mech shrunk uncomfortably into the collar of his tuxedo, failing to plaster an assuring smile on his bewildered face. "Mr. Mayor, I apologize-"
"I think it's be best to let the lovely mech go, don't you?," Alpha Trion added, stroking his beard expectantly. Streetwise smiled neutrally as a choking sound came from the pretentious aft, looking from the mayor to the strange autodog who still grasped his arm, also waiting. Sniffing disdainfully, the mech threw the cyborg's arm down, before stalking off with the pieces of his tattered ego.
At his departure, the mayor huffed in mild aggravation, smoothing his trailing beard one last time as he fully addressed the akita. "So sorry to interrupt; I don't have the patience for full-grown mechs' tantrums and besides, I knew you couldn't handle things in more favourable methods. Which, imagine my surprise, seeing you here of all places! Certainly, not a norm for you, Streetwise." Optics glanced quickly at the other's evening gown, before returning upwards with an inquisitive gleam. "Nor is that dress, but far be it from me to say that it is unbecoming of you. In fact, I dare say you could flatter me towards a variety of places in that exquisite number, if I were not the person I was."
The cyborg chuckled genuinely at the words. "Indeed, not, Mr. Mayor," he replied. "But," he continued, fingers waving ambiguously in Megatron's direction, "I'm afraid there were certain things I had to oversee in a coworker's absence."
"Ah, gotcha," the old autodog nodded, barely needing to look to see what the white mech meant. "I myself have-" He turned to his left, clicking his glossa in annoyance when he saw that there was no one stood beside him still. "Where the slag is that sprout!?"
Streetwise watched as the mayor searched the circumference of his personal space, before his optics rose a couple inches over the other's shoulder plating, catching sight of the slowly fleeing figure of Mainframe at the same time that Alpha Trion did. "Foolish pup," he grumbled, snatching the cocker-collie by the over-sized collar of his suit, "Didn't I tell you to stay close? I have 'bots that you must, at minimal, greet, so that I can convince them to fund the city's future projects. Honestly!"
Streetwise watched as Alpha Trion pulled Mainframe back to his side, the smaller 'bot kicking and making a generally muffled fuss at being manhandled; feeling his chest swell out an inch while he attempted to smother his growing smile. The old autodog caught the other's amusement though, despite his efforts, and he arched an optical ridge in silent question.
"Clearly, finding our distinguished clients will take some time," he announced suddenly, looking into the fidgeting programmer's face neutrally, "So perhaps you might keep my dear friend, Streetwise company in the meantime, hm, Mainframe? Treat him well and mind the evening gown."
The cocker collie had enough time to let out a shrieking hiss for about half an astrosecond before the mayor was shoving him, tripping and stumbling, towards the cyborg; crashing into Streetwise's chestplates as he fainted along the way. White arms caught the smaller mech surely with a little sound of surprise, leaning Mainframe up against his frame as he checked the other's vital signs quickly. With the obvious exception of being unconscious, all seemed well with the cocker collie.
"Well, that was certainly short-lived...," Alpha Trion sighed. He glanced at the akita, who was currently pushing back the smaller autodog's ears from his face, smoothing down the wrinkles in his tuxedo jacket Mainframe had made with his struggling. "Sorry for leaving you with dead weight -couldn't even fake one dance could he?- but seeing as you really don't mind, I shall take my leave for now. I'll be back to collect him once I find my associates."
Streetwise shot the older mech a sly smile, adjusting Mainframe's helm so it rested more comfortably along the curve of his chestplates. "I'll take good care of him," he promised. Alpha Trion nodded before fading into the crowd finally.
Left alone, Streetwise pondered what he should do with his unconscious partner. The mayor's suggestion of a dance sounded quite pleasant, and though it would take no effort to twirl around the dance floor with his limp partner, it would undoubtedly draw unwanted attention to the cyborg, which was the opposite of his mission this evening. Which meant there was only one thing to do. Venting in disappointment, Streetwise carried Mainframe along to the nearest table; setting him down into a chair with his good arm and grabbing two glasses of champagne before he himself took a seat across from the cocker collie. What ensued next was nothing more than several long kliks of waiting and watching while he sipped at his glass, before Mainframe even began to show signs of waking. Not that the akita minded. As Alpha Trion had stated, he was fascinated by the programmer.
"Hello," Streetwise greeted, once light began to bloom in the red autodog's optics.
The following jump nearly sent the nervous mech tumbling backwards out of his chair, if it had not been for the akita's quick servo catching a sleeve cuff and settling the cocker collie down again safely. Ignoring the chill that ran down his spinal struts at the other's flushed expression, Streetwise gently nudged his second champagne flute towards Mainframe, restarting his vocalizer before he could become enthralled in watching the programmer squirm cutely.
"I just wanted to thank you for rescuing me earlier. That gentlemech had clearly misjudged the type of person that I am and didn't want to hear my answer to his vaguely inappropriate suggestions," Streetwise started, smiling sweetly to ease the anxious autodog. Alas, as his charm was want to do many a time, instead of soothing Mainframe's frazzled sensory grid, the white mech's casual grin seemed to tangle it further up.
The cocker collie tried to jump again, this time with the intent of gaining his footing and storming off, but couldn't plant his pedes right and staggered back into the seat of his chair a second time, with a blush of embarrassment. The akita hurriedly sipped from his glass, intakes stalling for a moment within his chestplates. Well, this certainly was a turn of events, wasn't it? He could feel his interface array begin to heat beneath his protective covers; every inch of his frame tingling as arousal snaked across his neural net. Streetwise was compelled to reach over the table top and kiss the introverted autodog, knowing with confidence that he could regal Mainframe into more pleasurable activities, never mind that they were practically strangers. Isolation could have that effect on a 'bot. The cyborg's life had involved nothing but family and coworkers since the moment of his rebirth and considering his less-than-normal mechanical parts, entering the Cybertronian dating pool wasn't exactly an option to him. The occasional weekend frags with his once-lover, brother Blades, didn't exactly absolve one of the feeling of loneliness and disconnect either. So of course Streetwise was finding himself lubing with insatiable need over a stranger unfortunate to cross paths with the cyborg. This, he mused sadly, just wouldn't do.
Manually running a suppression code, the akita was able to tuck his foundling arousal out of his forefront processor, an air of indifference settling on his shoulder plating as a numbness returned to his lower frame. If Mainframe took note of the change, he certainly did not show it; his wary optics did watch though as Streetwise folded his servos neatly upon the table top, after setting his now-empty glass to the far side. "Not only did I mean to thank you, but I also wanted to apologize for what happened a few orns ago once more," he added, trying not to chuckle as the cocker collie paled in remembrance, ears flattening submissively. Honestly, it was like watching a sparkling being found out in a lie. Very cute. "I did not mean to catch you so off-guard. I only meant to cushion your helm after such a faint; I forgot how it could be misconstrued, and clearly I offended you, so... I am sorry. Truly."
The programmer somehow managed to frown despite having his lip components pressed together tight enough to be gnawing on them from the inside of his mouth, giving the cyborg a look that screamed his disbelief to the other's tale. Though parts of it were a bit embellished for Mainframe's delicate sensibilities, it was still wholly the truth of the matter and so Streetwise allowed his smile to stretch another inch towards the smaller mech. "In other news," the white autodog informed, "The mayor went on his way to find your fellow business associates, asking that I watch and make sure you were well for when he returned. And seeing as how I believe that includes ensuring you don't wander out of the party too soon... May you be interested in a dance? With myself?"
The cocker collie's optics nearly burst from his helm at the suggestion.
Streetwise swallowed another chuckle. "...or, we could engage in some friendly conversation. For example, what do you do for a living? I saw you at the Science Department, so I could only surmise you work as a scientist. Is it in transportation? Exploration? Oh, perhaps physics!"
Mainframe looked absolutely affronted at the cyborg's guesses, yet he still held his mouth firmly shut. Streetwise was impressed. Well, he would just have to whittle away at the stubborn introvert a little more. After all, there was nothing else to do until Alpha Trion returned, stalking Megatron was an absolute bore, and the red mech's stance promised for some jolly good banter if he could just get the other to open up on more friendly terms. Humming thoughtfully, Streetwise canted his helm to the side as he thought over his next words, before a thunderous crash disrupted the ballroom's pleasant atmosphere. Peering past the nosy crowd, the akita was not surprised to catch a glimpse of Starscream near the centre of the mayhem.
"Seems as though the party might cut sooner than anticipated," Alpha Trion said, popping up beside the pair's table. Mainframe literally flung himself out of his chair in an instant, half-hiding behind the mayor while giving the old mech the most sullen, hateful glare that Streetwise had ever seen.
"Yes, well," the akita shrugged, reaching for Mainframe's untouched flute of champagne, "These events have a tendency of unraveling. I wish you the best, Mr. Mayor, on your business. I was happy to watch your partner until you tracked down your potential clients."
Alpha Trion's expression was unreadable as he glanced at Streetwise from the corner of his optic, but he returned his gratitude to the other whole-sparkedly; grabbing the programmer's arm and pulling him away from the cyborg. "Idiot pup," he whispered disapprovingly at Mainframe as he walked away. "You couldn't even attempt some variation of friendly chat with the mech? Even if you can't appreciate his good looks, that autodog did not get dressed up this evening to be dismissed and treated like a brainless toy by everyone here! And wipe that glower off your faceplates; you don't have half a nerve to bite, let alone bark at me."
Mainframe's sullen expression tripled as the mayor looked away from his companion, still grumbling under his intakes about morons and ungrateful, obtuse ingrates. Why was the old mech commenting on his attitude?! It wasn't as if the cocker collie even wanted to be at this pompous event, and he certainly hadn't forced someone to be uncomfortably tangled in another's personal space. Just thinking about how much he'd touched the akita unwillingly made Mainframe's tanks churn. And then the white mech had the audacity to speak to him after, as though they were long-lost acquaintances?! The programmer turned his helm to send a glare in Streetwise's direction, but found himself shuttering his optics in mute shock instead. Already, not one, but three good-looking mechs had approached the akita's table; each one given a small shake of the helm and a courteous smile as Streetwise rose to his pedes and walked away. Each of the suitors looked downright offended by the white mech's callous dismissal, but Streetwise, well, he only downed the remainder of his champagne indifferently, dropping the glass off on one of the many tables as he gathered the hem of his evening gown in his other servo and headed quickly out of the ballroom's main entrance.
That had not been a scene the red autodog was expecting. Alpha Trion tugging on his arm harshly drew the programmer's attention back front again, the perplexity of the beautiful mech's odd departure fading to the back of his processor for the time being.