Wildrider's left optic twitched. "Y-y-you're...?!"
"Sparked!" Drag Strip exclaimed joyfully.
"Nice," Motormaster said, not looking up from his datapad magazine.
The Nemesis mess hall had become the favorite hang out of the Stunticons when they weren't on missions or recharging. The combiner team had a unique bond among its members, and they preferred to spend most of their free time together, like band of high school buddies, members of an extended family - or a pack of wolves. Having emerged from the Well of All-Sparks together - Wildrider and Drag Strip becoming split sparks soon after, like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe - they had only suffered a division in their ranks during the chaos of the last days of the Great War, with Breakdown making it onto the Nemesis and the rest of the Team lagging behind under heavy Autobot fire.
The loss of Breakdown had been painful for all of them (they had felt it the same as Dreadwing felt the loss of Skyquake) and there was a subtle sense of "missing" that had hung over all their heads since that time. It had only reinforced their desire to stay closer and connected.
Motormaster, the titan-class sixteen wheeler and leader of the team, had taken his usual spot at their favorite table, where the Stunticons could watch Earth television programs on the huge video monitor (one of the Vehicons had tinkered with it to allow reception of Earth broadcasts) that hung opposite the entrance arch. When not otherwise occupied, Motormaster was an avid reader of automobile magazines from earth, particularly any that had what he called "dames with massive wheel wells". He had also labeled his favorite chair, scratching "Property of Motormaster Do Not Sit In Or I Will Put My Foot So Far Up Your Aft You Will Think You Became A Combiner" on its back.
It hadn't been touched by anyone but him since then.
Dead End was passed out and slumped over the table, having taken one too many shots of high grade. He'd lost a lot of energon chips on that bet on Barricade.
Wildrider was standing near his sister, both of them not too far from Motormaster, and from the look on his mustached maroon face, someone was going to die. Soon. Painfully.
"Who did it?!" Wildrider snarled. "Who touched you?!"
"I did," a baritone voice answered from behind the two.
"All right mech," the gray stunticon snarled, whirling around to face the origin of the voice. "You just made the biggest mistake of your sorry-"
Drag Strip chuckled. "Oh don't worry about my brother, dear, he's just over protective. You know how split sparks can get."
Wildrider's plates rose and his engine choked and sputtered for a moment. "SHOCKWAVE?!" He stared at his sister. "Really sis? Shockwave?"
"HEY"! Drag Strip snapped, hands on her hips, "He's incredibly intelligent, he's high ranking, and he can kick a lot of aft! I think I did pretty well for myself!"
"Adding to the number of Decepticons present on this ship, and relieving Drag Strip of a condition that caused significant disruption in the ranks was a logical decision," Shockwave stated. He canted his head down towards the shorter yellow, black-striped fembot. "I received the medical report from Knock Out concerning the success of our generation." Placing his good hand on Drag Strip's shoulder, he added, "I am . . . happy."
Cue the sound effect of shattering glass, followed by slack-jawed, open mouthed expressions on Motormaster and Wildrider.
"Wait did you say you're happy?" Wildrider asked curiously.
"Well, we uh, we sort of ... bonded," Drag Strip said sheepishly.
"Correct," Shockwave said, continuing on Drag Strip's chain of thought (which more easily accomplished now), "While unexpected, the bond is vicariously feeding me emotional data from Drag Strip. While my own data has been artificially blocked, the bond between our sparks is overriding some of the firewalls. I do not possess the same level of emotional capacity I once did, but I have recovered a portion of it. As such, I am happy. Grateful. Proud."
"Well I'll be a scraplet's uncle," Motormaster said, surprised by the turn of events. "A Shockwave with feelings."
"Makes him scarier if you ask me," Wildrider muttered.
Motormaster rubbed his chin, rusty gears in his head cranking along. "If you bonded to her, I wonder ..."
Wildrider picked up what Motormaster was putting down. "The combiner bond?"
"Hmm," Shockwave thought aloud. "This bears some research."
"Well, you'd be the expert in that field," Drag Strip smiled. "Wouldn't it just be funny if...?"
"You'd make a weird leg," Motormaster said flatly.
...
Airachnid stared up at the ceiling, her fans puffing away heat. "Did we just...?"
"It would appear so," Megatron replied with an uncertain tone to his voice as he lay beside Airachnid on the berth.
The spider sighed. "Well that was short-lived." She could feel flicker of wounded pride bristling from the newly formed bond with the titan-frame she was snuggled up against. She laughed, he felt like pouting sparkling who'd had his hand slapped! "No, no!" she quickly exclaimed amid flutters of charmed laughter. "I didn't mean that, I meant my being unbonded!"
This relieved him - he was a very proud being and it seemed he craved having his ego stroked. He hated thinking of himself as anything other than the best of the best. Airachnid had always suspected, but before she had direct access to the layers of Megatron that existed beneath the terrifying facade of the conquering warlord, master of all Decepticons, she could not have been certain of it.
What a situation to be in. Overwhelmed with a raging lust she didn't know she could ever have, Airachnid had gone after the most impressive mech she could find - and he had surprisingly (and enthusiastically) responded to her come-on. Not that she hadn't entertained the notion of going after Megatron in the back of her mind; he cut a fine figure, his power was undeniable, and she would never find herself at a loss for intellectual challenge - she had simply never been able to give it more than a passing thought. Not since Tarantulas had forced her into a bond with him. This bond, accidental as its creation had been, was different. It felt different. It felt natural and relaxed, not an oppressive voice in the back of her processes that lurked like a sexual predator waiting to strike. This was much better.
She could sense some concern lingering in Megatron, and she shared it; this had not been of their choice, and given the option, they both would have liked to have avoid being bonded. Nevertheless, it was done - and they were left to make the best of their impulsive actions.
"Should we tell anyone?" Airachnid asked.
"It will come out eventually," Megatron replied. "But discretion would be advisable until it is no longer avoidable. Our bond could be exploited."
"Agreed," the spider said. An amusing though tickled her processors. "Can you imagine the look on Starscream's face when he finds out?"
There was quiet for just a moment, Megatron's expression inscrutable, and then it happened: He began to laugh. Not the sort of malevolent, maniacal laughter that was usually the only kind of mirth that passed his lips - this was genuine, rolling laughter from deep in that barrel chest, borne from finding honest frame-rattling humor in imagining how badly Starscream would twitch. Airachnid found herself caught up in it and joined him, and the two continued to mentally roll in the hilarity of it all for several minutes onward.
Pleasant emotions bounced back and forth between their sparks, the feedback loop enhancing the sensations each was feeling. The uncertainty gave way to peaceful acceptance. Maybe even happiness.
Megatron's hand gently took Airachnid's, her delicate digits enclosed within the mass of his larger servo. "No one will harm you again, Airachnid. Not even myself," he said softly, a note of humor and apology in his EMF.
"And you need never worry about me trying to fly the ship away without you, or take your place," Airachnid responded, sharing the sentiment.
"I suppose this is one way to assure your loyalty," he quipped, grinning.
"Well, if loyalty comes with a lead-up like before..." Airachnid saucily purred, turning over and resting herself partially atop the much larger mech's chest.
She looked startled, and Megatron could feel her surprise. "What is it?" he asked.
"Your eyes!" she said, her voice taking on a hushed tone. "They're blue."
Author's notes:
Blackout is Heavy Weapons Guy. I apologize in advance but it's now stuck permanently in my head. XD
I did not actually intend for this episode to have Decepticon pairings happen, but sometimes the story moves in mysterious ways! This IS building up to something - something BIG.
The chapter is a little short because the next segment of story would push this chapter up past 3000+ words and I want to have it out before the weekend.
Good luck hiding that bond from the kids now, Megatron. Also, your Vehicons are getting restless...
Vehicon Theme: "The Hand That Feeds" - NIN
