C.M.D: Heeeeeeeeey, lookit this! It's a story that I haven't updated in... in... Yeah, I'm too ashamed to answer that. A helluva a long time, is suffice enough to say. Well, here's a chapter anyways, on the special day of looooooooooooove~ Primus, I missed writing about these two idiots!

"Again, so sorry. A thousand apologies. My sincerest regrets and all that!"

Blue fins bobbed rapidly as Hellabt bowed repeatedly, his servos rubbing together anxiously. He paused though, as he caught sight of the youngling at his side making faces towards the dinoforce; forcing the tiny Destron to copy his actions as he resumed his prostrating.

"Truly a grave oversight. Completely unintentional. Will ensure it never happens again. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera..."

In true testimony of his intellect, Goryu didn't even notice the gibberish added to the rafale's stream of repentance; sniffing loudly in derision as he crossed his arms over his burly chestplates. Somehow, without dropping the comically-sized club he always grasped. "I'll grant you mercy- THIS TIME!," the green mech snarled, slapping the top of his beast shell's head, "But anymore trouble from that brat and I will feed him to Tyranno!"

Hellbat slowed his next bow, glancing up at the dinoforce leader from beneath the edging of his forehelm. "...y-yes, of course!," he squeaked as Goryu's expression darkened in turn. "As the magnanimous Goryu says!"

Sated finally, Goryu turned his colossal reptile about, poking the still weeping Kakuryu in the side with his club. "Wipe those tears and get a move on, troop! We have training to do," he ordered, urging his beast shell into a walk.

"O-ok-okaaaaaay b-boss," Kakuryu whimpered pathetically. The stream of coolant pouring out from under his visor failed to diminish as he tripped haphazardly after the dino-riding team leader.

Only after the dinoforce dolts had lumbered completely out of sight, did Hellbat straighten up fully, his optics glaring at the tail of their shadows. At least, he was, until something chomped down on his fingers. HARD. "YEEEEOOOOOOOOWWWWCHHH!," the blue Destron shouted, nearly falling on his aft as he fought to yank his thumb and index finger free from Leozack's jaws. How could something so small have such a chomp to it?!

When he finally freed himself, the only thing he could do was cradle his crunched plating close to his frame, turning bright, painted optics to the nonchalant jet. "Whhhhhhhhhyyyyyy?," he gasped, his sensory grid throbbing.

The impetuous youngling folded his arms in front of himself, pouting petulantly. "You almost knocked me over, shoving me down like that!"

"And that's reason enough to BITE ME?!"

Leozack's bottom lip component jutted out further. "Yes," he quipped. "And also, I shouldn't have to say sorry for nothing!"

Hellbat wanted nothing more than to rip at his helm fins in exasperation. He refrained. Barely. "That- You- This an absolute over-reaction!," he yelled, shaking his injured servo before the youngling. "That giant moron could have actually fed you to his beast, do you understand that?! And you- DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!"

The blue mech jumped back a few, good paces, servos clasped against his shoulders in defensively when the tomcat attempted another lunging bite. Even when he was being glowered at, the youngling still had the nerve to look smug.

"That's not funny."

Leozack cackled at the response, his higher pitch devolving the mocking sound into a series of ridiculous squeaks. It wasn't, Hellbat stubbornly denied, cute at all.

"I suppose we're having fun, then?," the blue Destron sullenly asked.

The teal mechling was still laughing, a servo gripping his thin sides as the noise went on. And on and on and on. Hellbat had already sunk to the floor, determined to sit out his charge's insane giggling, yet when Leozack showed no signs of finishing as one klik rolled into three... then five... He began to get worried.

"...uuuuuuuummm," the rafale started, hesitantly leaning towards the younger jet when Leozack collapsed to the floor; unhinged chuckles rising up from the ground where the youngling laid down, face-first. Paranoia began to fester at the back of Hellbat's processor. Was insanity a side-effect of the tomcat's unusual medical condition?

Lezoack continued to lie across the hallway floor, unresponsive to the rest of the world as the giggling finally (Thank Primus!) began to subside. Despite his better judgment, the blue Destron poked the youngling's helm. "Are you okay?"

Leozack's face snapped upwards, once more full of rage and ready to commit violence. "NO, STUPID!," the tiny jet screamed, "I'm fragging BORED!"

"Hey!," Hellbat scolded sharply, "Watch your language! Where did you even hear such naughty words, anyhow?"

The youngling rolled his optical sensors rudely, rolling over onto his back. "It's just some cursing, you big tool. I've said it a million times: I'm not a bornling!"

The rafale rubbed irritably at his forehelm. "Well, you're not exactly proving me wrong in that category by throwing temper tantrums. Why were you even in this area? I thought we were playing a game!"

"Well, maybe someone should have been searching for me faster then, huh?! I can count, dummy! And I'm tired of puzzles and seeker stuff; I want to do something different," Leozack huffed, flailing emphatically with his whining.

"...And 'different' means breaking Kakuryu's collection?!"

"I was only looking at them. It's not my fault the whole shelf fell over. Besides, it's just some weirdo pest things in a box," the youngling grumbled, tilting his helm toward his caretaker, "I dunno why the big bornling started crying over that."

"You're a great, big bornling...," Hellbat muttered.

"What was that?!," Leozack screeched, sitting upright.

The blue Destron hurriedly pulled a datapad out of subspace, holding it up to draw the youngling's attention. "Well, anyways," Hellbat began, "I thought you might get a bit bored after a while-"

"So you were being lazy and not looking for me!"

"-aaaaaaaand, I had the idea that if you had some studies, like, maybe a research book or two. Or three. Or twelve. That it might make the time go by faster until we, uh... figured out a more permanent solution to your predicament," he finished merrily.

Leozack wore an expression somewhere between outraged and disgusted. At its presence, Hellbat felt a frown form beneath his mask. "You could at least look at the material before you start complaining about it," he grumbled.

To his surprise, the teal Destron held out a servo in unspoken demand, snatching the tablet once it was within his reach. Unexpectedly (or at least, the rafale should have realized this would happen), Leozack turned on the datapad for all of five astroseconds- before whipping it back into his caretaker's face. Hellbat's yowling was loud enough for Komoribreast to eject forcefully from his master's chestplates and flutter about the ceiling in a daze.

"Why are you so mean?!," the older mech whined, both servos covering his aching optic.

"Why are you so stupid?," the youngling snarled back.

The rafale could feel his energon boiling. "I'm just trying to make things better for you while you're stuck here!," he yelled, leaping onto his pedes, royally peeved.

The teal mechling followed suit, though not as gracefully and pouting the whole way up. "And I said I don't want to be watched by you. You're smelly, and ugly, and weird!," the tiny jet shrieked back. "If I can't go home, than I want to help! And if you try to distract me any more with dumb bornling stuff, I- I- I'll destroy even more of your stuff!"

The tomcat pointed a finger at the blue Destron triumphantly, as though his sudden threats had somehow gotten one over on his caretaker. On the contrary, Hellbat was frozen in place -not by any misplaced fear towards the youngling, oh no- but by the tiny Destron's words that had the spy's processor whirling away with inspiration.

"You... like breaking things, huh?," he mumbled aloud.

The small, teal mane tilted to one side as Leozack's earlier jeering faded; an expression of absolute befuddlement painting the young face. Hellbat, though, wasn't in the mood to explain himself. "C'mon, pipsqueak," he chirped, scooping the youngling up suddenly and tucking him under one arm like a sack. An extremely wiggly sack.

Under his wing, Leozack was screeching demands to be released and unhanded- all of which were ignored as the rafale skipped happily down the ship's halls.

xxXxXxx

Once Komoribreast had settled and taken up roost somewhere in the shadows of the corridor junction, Hellbat tip-toed quickly to a battered door down the adjacent hall. Leozack copied him, just as quiet, oddly enough. It seemed he did not want to miss out on whatever the older Destron was up to. So when Hellbat pushed bodily against the damaged door, so too, did the youngling; squashing himself under the rafale's wing to add in his minuscule effort. The lumpy sheet of metal moved with a low groan, the blue mech directing the beaten door inward enough so that a 'bot of his size could wriggle through the available gap. Of course, Leozack was the first to dart inside, stomping on his caretaker's pede in the process.

"Hey, the lights are busted in here!," the teal mechling whined.

Hellbat shimmied inside also as soon as the worse of the throbbing had faded from his pede. "Mmm... not quite busted," he corrected kindly, a servo fumbling against the wall blindly.

It took him a few more pats to find the manual toggle for the lights; the rafale humming a jaunty tune as he tossed the cracked covering away and twisted the wires about expertly. Light flooded the room just then, revealing a medium-sized berthroom, complete with berth, a desk and a whole lot of mess. It looked as if the space moonlighted as a trash heap in its off cycles; there was such a menagerie of broken items scattered about, it was almost surprising one could walk anywhere at all!

At the sight of all the disorganized mayhem, Leozack's former curiosity dropped into a scowl. "It's just an ugly berthroom!," he griped loudly. A servo rose to his olfactory sensor in displeasure. "Ugh! It's smelly in here, too. It's even more horrible than your little closet."

"Yeah, it's pretty gross," Hellbat agreed, looking around the room appraisingly. "But!," he added, grabbing a datapad off the precariously leaning desk. He waited until the youngling was looking in his direction before gently tossing the device to the tiny tomcat. White servos caught it smoothly, confused optics glancing from the tablet and up to the blue Destron, then back again. His wings fluttered on his back as the teal mechling continued to show no understanding of his plans.

"Wha...?"

"Toss it," Hellbat instructed giddily, "To the floor."

Leozack lifted the datapad over his helm blankly. At the older mech's nod, he just let it drop to the floor.

"...now, stomp on it," the larger jet urged.

The youngling lightly stepped on the screen, still perplexed, flinching at the small crunch that echoed upwards. Hellbat clapped excitedly.

"Harder!"

A dawning expression of realization swept over the teal mechling's slacken face; optics beginning to sparkle brightly as Leozack stomped on the datapad harder. Again. Then again. Until he was finally jumping on the destroyed device with both pedes, bits of crunched metal scattering beneath the small jet's repeated abuse.

"C'mon, c'mon!," the spy crowed, grabbing at the abandoned desk chair. He kicked at it a few times until the central leg snapped off, holding the makeshift club surely between both servos. "Pick something up and throw it here!"

The tomcat scrambled across the floor for an item that he could toss, rising shortly after with some kind of broken container in his grasp. With all the strength his diminutive frame could give, Leozack threw the junk towards his caretaker- a shrill cry of delight escaping him as the blue Destron smacked the container with his club, sending it slamming into the opposite wall.

"Again! Do that again!," the youngling squealed.

"Then hurry up, slowpoke!," Hellbat laughed.

He batted away one, five, eight more objects before Leozack was running around the room like an overcharged speedster, giggling loudly in wicked glee the whole time. Nothing was left unturned or stomped or kicked. No item spared from the tomcat's callous jerking or tossing or unbridled club swinging. Chuckling alongside the rambunctious youngling, Hellbat too, was enjoying their destructive spree through Killbison's room; their maniacal fun leading the two Destrons up to the point where they were bouncing on the gel-filled, silicon mat on their comrade's berth with wild abandonment.

"Ewwwwww!," Leozack laughed, when the pad suddenly burst, splattering his teal plating with pale, blue sludge as he fell onto its deflating mass. "It's so wet and sticky!"

Hellbat, wheezing through his vents, clambered off the berth on shaky limbs, reaching back and gently lifted the tomcat down too. "Y-yea, I guess it is," he agreed amicably. He was in much better spirits now after their tumultuous morning.

The spy was just debating on how to finish off the orn while he turned them both towards the door- only to have his train of thought derailed as Leozack draped himself over one of the rafale's shoulders suddenly, a small vent leaving the now-tuckered out mechling.

"I s-suppose we should, um, get you washed up then," the blue Destron mumbled.

The youngling didn't protest. "Carry me," he mumbled in demand, tiny digits digging into the spy's seams when he tried to set his tiny charge to the floor.

Hellbat muffled a sigh, glancing at the tomcat's lowered helm benignly. "Alright then. To the washracks!"

It was awkward, shimmying back through the damaged doorway with a small jet in his servos, but Hellbat managed and before long, he was back in the lieutenant commander's hab suite and heading for the slim door tucked out sight in the far back. It wasn't a secret that many high-ranked officers were given the rare luxury of a private cleansing room, but Hellbat certainly hadn't expected so much grandeur when he popped his helm through the doorway.

The washrack had a ceiling just as cavernous as the main berthroom, and enough floor space in between to have two, very divisible areas. The first half was in the same plain, rust-proof metal of the ship, with two twenty and thirty feet mirror installed on opposite walls and bordered by a hundred, brilliant inlaid lights to magnify the viewer's reflection. There was even a recessed shelf unit next to one mirror, filled to the brim with over-sized shine rags and towels; the particularly plump and fuzzy kind. Hellbat shuttered his optics stupidly. Well, that certainly explained how the lieutenant commander always looked so gorgeous, orn in and orn out. Stepping further into the washrack, the blue Destron came to another pause, his processor trying to make sense of what he was seeing now. The second half of the washrack was decked out in an entirely different colour and type of metal than what the Thunder Arrow provided. Shrunken to a size no bigger than his servo, it took hundreds of these specialized tiles to make up the stall; every single one in a shade of smooth obsidian and embossed with a golden filigree of some sort. Judging by the gold apertures spread along the walls every five feet, from floor to ceiling, they were a variation of spout- another feature that was made in excess, given that there was already a matching, rectangular shower head attached to the roof of the shower. Slag, even the troughs in the floor (designed on a slope to help drain water safely down and into hidden piping, which would empty back out into the ship's waste tank) were trimmed in a golden hue!

This was the sort of extravagance one might expect from their Emperor, Deathsaurus, or some other self-important, pompous showboat. Hellbat could only make a face. He knew that his lieutenant commander had plans for greatness (and he, himself, fully endorsed such an ambition), but wasn't the design of this set-up still just a bit... tacky?

The blue Destron didn't have much more time to contemplate on it though, for a tiny yawn came from the unusually quiet youngling laid out across his shoulder. "Oi, don't fall asleep yet!," Hellbat said, gently bouncing the tomcat in his arms, "You don't want that gunk drying to you overnight. Who knows what'll it do to your plating!"

"Then... hurry... u-up," Leozack mumbled, not even pretending that he was close to dozing.

The spy eyed the shower critically. There wasn't a knob or a control plate that he recognized within the washing monstrosity. "Okay, but I'm going to have to put you down now."

The teal mechling whined a bit, but he kept upright when the older Destron set him down to the floor. Now came the fun part. Hellbat stepped inside the large shower and for the next several kliks pushed randomly on tile or hose or anything that looked like it might do something- all to little success. So far, all he'd accomplished was turning on a single hose, each in random locations, spraying water that was too cold or too hot. After almost giving himself an enema with icy water, the rafale had no choice but to take a step back. Of course, when he glanced towards his charge, it was to find Leozack snickering.

"Look, it's harder than it appears!," Hellbat argued, as the tomcat rolled to the ground, overcome by his own laughter.

The youngling clearly wasn't listening. "Y-your... fa-face!," he wheezed, his giggles climbing up another pitch.

The blue mech pouted behind his mask, turning away from the shower in defeat. Maybe there would still be some time to use the crew's communal washrack? He stopped on his way out of the stall, optics zoomed in on the golden basin sitting right outside the shower's edge. It certainly didn't help him solve the control issue, Hellbat mused, picking it up, but he could surely find a way to fill it up nonetheless. Another blind search of the stalls (the rafale attempting to reactivate hoses he recalled shot out hot water and getting blasted by the steaming spray a dozen more times in the process), and eventually, the blue Destron came away with a basin full of freshly-heated cleanser.

"Alright, get on over here," the spy said, wiping excess water off his face as he plopped on his aft in relief. "And bring a washrag while you're at it."

Leozack did so without a complaint, allowing himself to be set in the older mech's lap once he was close. Thank Primus for small wonders, the spy thought, soaking the washrag thoroughly. Not only had it been a long orn for the troublesome youngling, it was a lengthy one on Hellbat himself, and as he gently scrubbed the tomcat from pede to helm, the larger jet could feel exhaustion creeping up on him.

"Hey... um... B-batty?," Leozack mumbled, leaning into the clothe as it found the delicate nooks in his mane. The larger servos slowed while they worked deeper in the seams, with the tomcat's safety in mind.

"Yeah?," Hellbat replied absentmindedly, his attention focused on his handiwork as he scanned the tiny Destron over again. He couldn't find a speck of the blue gel anywhere now.

"I...It w-wasn't so b-bad, smashing stuff. Could w-we... we do it again? S-soon?"

The blue mech paused, with the basin held up over the youngling's helm, his optics shuttering in shock at the timid request.

"B-but, like, o-only after you shower some. 'C-cause you clearly don't know h-how a shower works and you're stinky!," Leozack hurriedly added, his chin turned to the floor.

Hellbat almost laughed. "U-uh... yeah, sure... o-of course! Wh-whatever you'd like, Leo," he answered, dumping the remaining cleanser over the teal mechling to spare them any further, awkward dialogue. "But, uh, let's finish here first and get you to recharge."

He helped the sputtering tomcat back onto his pedes, and wasn't bombarded with punches or verbal abuse as he led Leozack out of the stall. The warm shower was a distraction that didn't have a lasting effect though, for as he rubbed the teal mechling down firmly with a plush towel, his charge began to sway on weakening knee joints. The rafale had no choice but to carry the sleepy youngling back out of the washrack and into the main berthroom.

A little white servo snuck out of the thermal sheet after Hellbat had tucked Leozack in, pinching the edge of the blue Destron's wing. But when he shot the tiny jet a quizzical look, it was only to find that Leozack was already deep in recharge. A corner of his mouth lifting upwards unseen, Hellbat gently eased his wing from the youngling's grasp, settling on the floor against the berth and offlining his optics as well.

C.M.D: I'm probably not gonna be super fast updating this, but I will be making more of an effort to crank out a few more chapters this year.
Be kind; give me your mind~ REVIEW, please! And thanks for stopping by! :)