Author's Note:
I could not accurately predict Megatron's reaction to Airachnid, so I literally flipped a coin for the results. If it seems OOC for him, blame the quarter.
Starscream kept looking over his shoulder as he made his way to the command center. Drag Strip could be hiding around any corner, waiting to strike.
ANY CORNER.
Once he'd reached the safety of the command center (she wouldn't possibly try to frag him right in front of Megatron, right?), he vented a heavy sigh of relief. The nightmare would be over. At least for as long as his shift held out.
"Reporting for duty Lord Meg-"
Starscream developed a sudden tic under his right optic.
"AIRACHNID!" he shouted, hands curled into fists, arms raised and missiles primed, ready to attack at any moment. "What do you think you're doing to him!?"
He knew it, he just knew it! Releasing that evil, wretched female was going to end up resulting in the deaths of more Decepticons, and now Airachnid was clearly closing in for the kill on Megatron! He would have to save his Master (and thusly earn even more trust and good favor with him, of course)!
Except that Megatron didn't seem terribly concerned for his well being; in fact, was he – was he actually smiling? It dawned on Starscream at that moment that what he was looking at was not, in fact, an assassination attempt. Not with Airachnid in Megatron's lap like that. Not with the soft flutters of laughter, the hushed, breathy conversation, the way Megatron's hand was pressed against the small of the spider's back –
Starscream recoiled from the sight, aghast, covering his optics and spinning around. "S-sorry Lord Megatron, I had no idea you were busy!" he blurted out. It was like walking in on your parents in the middle of lovemaking. He'd have nightmares for vorns.
Airachnid chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at the horrified Seeker. "I think we've lost our privacy," she murmured.
"Mmm, yes, so it would seem," Megatron grinned. "My quarters, Airachnid. Be quick about it."
Airachnid slipped out of Megatron's lap, and he gave her aft a playful swat that made her yelp delightedly as she hurried out of the room. "You have command of the ship for the next, oh, four cycles, Starscream," he said cheerfully as he followed out after the spider. The Seeker watched, flabbergasted as Megatron left, stalking after Airachnid with a lusty glint in his optics.
"WHAT IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?" Starscream shouted into the empty room.
...
Shiftlock sat with her back against the wall of the spartan quarters she'd been assigned on. The Decepticon brands on her doorwings still stung. She hated how the violet color clashed with the copper orange of her armor. Autobot red had always been the better choice.
Nearby her sparklings slept on comfortable berths, having enjoyed their first energon rations and fallen into a well deserved recharge. Their wings bore purple insignia as well, freshly tattooed on. Shiftlock wanted to scrape the purple paint off with her fingers.
The door alert went off, a soft chime letting the occupants know that someone outside wanted in. Not wanting to wake her babies, she got up and went to the door controls, brushing a hand over the activation panels. Outside was a lone Vehicon. Shiftlock wondered why he was here.
"Hey, it's me," he said quietly, EMF adding friend remember-me? frequencies as undercurrents to his speech.
Oh! She'd almost forgotten about him! So much had happened in such a short time; her nerves were frayed as old lamp cords and she was constantly on edge. She was just waiting for Megatron to find some way to kill her or go back on his promise and kill her children. The conversation she'd had with the Vehicon before had been buried deep in her memory files, nearly becoming junk data to be purged during her next defragmentation cycle. His appearance was a welcome distraction and relief; her spark ached for Jazz and at such a distance from him she imagined the discomfort and loneliness would only get worse.
"Come in, but speak quietly, the children are sleeping," Shiftlock whispered, moving aside to let the Vehicon in.
The Vehicon nodded and slipped inside the room as she closed the door. His visor flickered as he looked at the two sleeping younglings. "Wow," he whispered. "So that's them. I didn't think they'd be this big."
"You've never seen new Cybertronians, have you?" Shiftlock asked.
The Vehicon shook his head no. "I figured they'd be, you know, smaller. The natives have protoforms that grow, but slowly. Not in burst-transformations like Insecticons." His EMF was warm with adoration; seems he found them cute.
Everyone did. It seemed as if just being around the new babies had a profoundly pacifying effect even on the Decepticons, bringing out aspects of their sparks that had been shut down during millions of years of war, softening the hard edges and reminding them that there was more to existence than an endless drive for conquest.
"So did you pick a name?" Shiftlock asked, eager to see what sort of progress the Vehicon had made.
"Dave," he said. "I kinda like the name Dave."
Well it wasn't really very Cybertronian - no Ironhide, Skids or Perceptor - it was a native name, and it left Shiftlock a little curious as to his choice. Nevertheless it was a step in the right direction. She went to the table and chairs in the room, and pulled out a seat for Dave, settling in herself. "Is it safe for us to talk?" Shiftlock asked, remembering Soundwave's intense monitoring of everything aboard the Nemesis. Certainly her quarters would be watched in particular.
Dave's EMF wobbled with laughter. "That's just the thing! He's off-duty for awhile, and it's all because of you!"
Shiftlock stared. "What?"
"Well, word around the Nemesis has it that you're making all the carriers and females go glitched with your mom-waves. All the carriers are stuck in medical because they're making protoforms, and Drag Strip has been trying to grab every mech she sees because she wants sparklings too!" Dave said.
Shiftlock kept staring. "What?!"
"Barricade blew out both his optics he was so mad!" Dave snortled, his body trembling with laughter suppressed for the sake of the sparklings. He sat up for a moment, hand to the right side of his helm, listening in to something. "No," he gasped, his EMF wildly fluctuating with hilarity. "Oh you are not gonna believe this. One of us on the upper decks just saw Megatron chasing a giggling Airachnid down the hall and telling her he was going to 'face her so hard she wouldn't be able to walk on any of her legs!"
Shiftlock's optics opened so wide they threatened to roll out onto her cheeks. "What?!"
Dave tried to compose himself. "You are causing more havoc on this ship than the time the big green guy blew out the power couplings and made us crash land, and you're supposed to be one of us!"
...
Knock Out stared at the results of the test on his data pad.
Drag Strip smiled. She smiled like Spongebob finding out Squidward liked Krabby Patties.
"W-well you are absolutely right, Drag Strip. You're sparked," he announced.
"You missed your chance," Drag Strip snorted, settling back into her normal, competitive, glitchy nature. "Too bad, so sad."
Knock Out raised an optic ridge. While he had entertained the notion of bumping her bumper before, her personality had ultimately been a turn off. The idea of being saddled with a femme that liked to grind his grill into the dirt every chance she got and thought it was 'cute' was more than he ever wanted to endure. That didn't even touch on the fact that her brother threatened to stomp a new exhaust port into anyone who so much as looked at her.
Which brought up the question of who did the deed, because it was more than likely Knock Out would end up repairing him very soon.
"Congratulations!" Blackout cheerfully interjected. "I am so happy for you! When my protoform is ready, you can be using it, yes?"
"Oh Blackout that's so kind of you!" Drag Strip replied, clasping her hands together, beaming. "I'm sure that will be very agreeable with my sparkling's father."
"So if it's not a secret, can I ask who that happens to be?" Knock Out questioned, uncertain he wanted to know, considering he'd seen her dragging Starscream around like a ragdoll before.
"Shockwave," Drag Strip answered blithely.
Barricade, who had been drinking an energon cube, promptly did a spit take. Soundwave turned over on his berth and seemed to stare even without eyes, a BSOD popping up in the corner of his vision. Blackout's optic ridges flipped up. "Ohhh that is being surprise."
"I'm sorry did you just say Shockwave?" Knock Out asked, datapad falling from his hands with a clatter on the floor plating. He partially rebooted, unable to process that information.
"My vocoder is working just fine thank you. Yes I said Shockwave. He's gentle and strong and it's like he knew how to do everything just right and then he brought out the cortical psychic patch and-"
"STOP!" all three speaking mechs said at once.
"That is way, way more than I wanted to know," Knock Out muttered, rubbing his face. "Just - congratulations. We'll leave it at congratulations."
Oh the irony. As I'm writing the part about Megatron and Airachnid, my pandora station starts playing "How to Be Eaten by a Woman" by The Glitch Mob. Words fail me.
Also I keep hearing Blackout speaking with a Russian accent in my head, so he might start having a Russian accent in text.
