Chapter 1

It was a day like every other day had been for the past two weeks. Or so it seemed in Perceptor's CPU. Quietly, he roused himself from recharge, looking across his empty berth to the empty wall within the empty room. His berth was cold but for his own warmth and slowly he sat up with a soft sigh. Swinging his pedes over the side of the berth, his loneliness had only been magnified ten fold since his. . .injury. The very thought of it caused an arm to jerk up even with his chest. Slowly he'd press his palm over the reinforced plating that had been secured over his chest plating that had been so mauled. A frown crossed his features as he traced his digits over it, memorizing it like he did every morning.

Perceptor didn't even remember what had happened to be perfectly honest, he didn't even remember the mission nor even the days and weeks prior. Parts of his memory banks were very much corrupted and that thought prompted his other arm to reach up and touch at the glassy surface of a new optic and the new dermal plating. There was still scarring, and there would probably always be scarring, but the medic had done his best. . . Not that it really much mattered what he looked like, Perceptor thought bitterly. What did bother him was the state of his CPU and all the rest of the frail systems buried underneath his helm. Sometimes, when he worked too hard, his CPU would ache terribly, it was probably something that would never go away.

Weakly sighing, Perceptor rose off his berth before slowly striding to the door. What was the point? His existence was bleak and lacking, there was no one at his side, no one to care for him, or for him to care for. The closest thing to such had been that mech who had saved him. The one he had only been able to stutter a weak thanks to.

Drift.

That was the designation of the mech who had saved him without even a second thought while his teammates had made their escape off the Decepticon vessel. Perceptor still couldn't figure out why Drift had saved him, though what ever the reason, the scientist was thankful to the mech if for the only reason that for once someone had thought of him.

Slipping out the door, Perceptor looked up and down the halls. They were empty as it was still too early of an hour for most of the Wreckers to be up out of recharge except for a skeleton crew. The gentle hum of the Xantium was all he heard besides the soft whoosh of the door shutting behind him. Striding down the empty hall ways, Perceptor was greeted by the sound of his own pedefalls echoing off the halls. His tanks rumbled and he chose to go to the commissary first to sate the need of energy. Truly, Perceptor felt like a drone though he had only realized it recently. He fueled, he worked, and then he recharged. There was no recreation, there was no enjoyment, and there certainly wasn't companionship he thought as he stepped into the open doorway.

Perceptor had expected it to be empty, devoid of all other mechs, but he was wrong. Azure optics flared at the sight of the pale mech within. Drift was all sharp angles and curves combined with pale white paint touched with the slightest of red accents. To Perceptor, the mech was stunning and he felt himself stiffen as cold azure optics swivelled about to meet his. His intakes even hitched and he meant to make a greeting, there, just a step within the commissary, but every system had froze up.

It turned out to be Drift who would speak first. "Perceptor," came the mech's voice, cold yet seemingly gentle to the scientist's audio receptors. Drift was seated at a table, enjoying a cube alone.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity of staring, Perceptor bowed his helm in embarrassment before offering a, "H-Hello Drift, h-how are you?"

"I am fine, and you, Perceptor, how are you fairing?" the mech asked in a voice that seemed unusually cultured for a mech of Drift's caliber and profession.

Biting at his lip with his helm still down, his cheek plating hot, Perceptor managed a, "I'm well, t-thank you," before he found the dexterity to move towards the energon dispenser. Half stumbling, Perceptor managed to grab hold of an empty cube. He was nervous, intensely so, and he allowed his features to slacken with his back to Drift. Shaking quite badly, Perceptor cursed himself quietly as the cube tumbled from his grip, falling to the floor and spilling the freshly poured contents. Perceptor was quick to bend down and pick it up, but he only dropped it again when he had straightened, for right there was Drift, at his side. Half jumping, Perceptor squeaked as he felt Drift's slender, but deadly hands upon his.

"Are you alright? You're shaking," came Drift's cool voice and Perceptor found himself even more nervous now.

"Ahh, fine, really, I'm just. . .ah. . .clumsy first thing out of recharge," Perceptor replied, laughing nervously. He felt like an idiot, making a fool out of himself right there. Never before had he much cared how he came off to others. He was always polite and kind, but he never gave much thought of what others had thought about him. No, he had usually been off in his own little world.

Until the accident. Until Drift.

"Do you always shake so badly out of recharge?" Drift asked. Perceptor thought he surely should check his audio receptors, for it sounded like the mech was actually genuinely concerned for him.

Glancing down, Perceptor felt his intakes hitch at the sight of Drift's hands upon his and he found his mouth opening and closing.

"Here," Drift said as he freed one hand, picking up an empty cube and expertly refilling it. Placing it into Perceptor's hand, but keeping one hand on it as well, Drift wrapped an arm around the scientist's waist. Once again, Perceptor squeaked, unable to help it as he was guided towards a table.

"Ah, ah, t-thank you Drift," Perceptor murmured quickly as the mech helped him become seated and he watched Drift with rapt attention as the swordsmech seated himself beside him.

Enthralled was the wrong word, Perceptor thought, no, he was enraptured by this stunning, gleaming creature before him.

"Think nothing of it," replied Drift before he would speak again with a slight nod, "Go on, drink." And drink, Perceptor did, though his optics could not leave Drift's visage. Not even for a moment.

*****

The day wore on, and Perceptor had tried to work, but all he could think about was Drift. At his desk, sat idle tools, instruments and reports, and Perceptor leaned back in his chair. His pedes were just touched to the floor, his heels kicked up on the bottom rung of the chair while his hands were folded his lap. The scientist's lips were slightly parted and his optics were nearly hazed over. While past memories were jumbled up, corrupted even, this newest one played over and over. Perceptor swore he could still feel that hand on his waist and both of those hands on his. Every time he thought about it, he'd feel himself warm. Perceptor couldn't get his CPU off the other mech, not even if he had tried.

Looking down slowly from the wall, Perceptor found his optics on his disused materials before sighing. His shift was nearly over and he hadn't done a thing except withdraw his materials. Now it was time to put things up and clean up. Even that, he did with thoughts of Drift, and he was sure he had placed a few of his samples in the wrong place. No matter, he could fix it later, he thought as he shut a cabinet door, stepping away from it with another of those dreamy little sighs. Rubbing a hand on his cheek, Perceptor slipped out the door only for his systems to freeze up once again. There was Drift, once again, cool azure optics turning to meet his.

Just like before, it was Drift who spoke first. "Ah, I wanted to make sure you were alright. You were shaken earlier today."

Perceptor's optics flared as his jaw dropped slightly. Perceptor had never really been too bothered that few mechs had ever really looked at him or even cared for that matter. . . Yet the thought of the most startling and striking creature he had ever set optics on him had some interest in him. . . Realizing he hadn't yet replied, Perceptor stuttered a few unintelligible noises before replying, "Y-yes, quite alright." A weak smile touched his lips as he watched Drift's helm cant to the side. Clearly, the warrior didn't believe him, but didn't press the issue.

Drift smiled softly, azure optics gentle before he asked, "You are off shift now I assume?"

Perceptor couldn't quite figured out why the mech across from him, was even remotely interested in him, but Perceptor replied with a nervous, "Y-yes, I am."

A nod was made by Drift before the mech asked another question, "Would you like to have a cube of energon with me?"

The question completely caught Perceptor off guard and he knew his optics must've flashed bright as he saw Drift cant his head to the side. Still Perceptor was stunned. No one had ever acted as if he had even existed, and here was Drift, the most enigmatic creature he had ever seen, much less met, asking him to go have a cube of energon. While for many mechs, this would been something simple, innocent and not at all meaningful, to Perceptor, it was enough to make his systems freeze up.

"Perceptor?"

"Ohh!" the scientist finally managed, rousing himself from his thoughts with a shake of his head. "Ah. . . I usually just go to my quarters after my shift," Perceptor murmured shyly.

"You only refuel once a day?" Drift asked with a little frown before taking a step forward. "You should take more energon, Perceptor," Drift chided before offering the mech his arm. "Come, I won't take no for an answer," the mech said with a soft smile.

Perceptor could only stare dumbly at that proffered arm but after several moments of debate he took the offer, wrapping both of his arms gingerly about Drift's. Perceptor couldn't believe it, but Drift did not jerk his arm away, instead the mech smiled.

Quietly, Drift led Perceptor towards the commissary and the scientist still couldn't believe what was happening. Every so often, Drift would turn his helm and would smile at him. It sent chills down his backstrut and he thought surely Drift must be able to sense the heat radiating from his frame. Reaching the commissary, Perceptor realized why he never got energon after shift. Inside were more than a few of the Wreckers, including Broadside, Sandstorm, Blurr and Hotrod.

It seemed that it wasn't just Perceptor that was surprised at Drift's actions towards the scientist, but it was like the entire room went quiet at the sight of Perceptor arm in arm with the newest Wrecker. Perceptor felt his cheeks flare with warmth and he was caught between the desire to bolt or freeze up. Yet Drift kept him going, never even paying attention to all the stares or the quietness. Reaching the dispenser, Drift turned his head slightly to smile at Perceptor reassuringly while he filled two cubes. As if sensing Perceptor's discomfort in the situation, the mech whispered, "It's a little busy in here, wouldn't you say? Let's go back to your quarters, yes?" the mech asked. Thankful for that reprieve, Perceptor nodded his helm almost too animatedly before the mech guided him back to the door and out, holding both the cubes.

"Thank you," Perceptor whispered, still having his arms looped over Drift's once they were out the door. Even before his accident, Perceptor had never liked being around so many mechs, but now, it was even worse, especially around them. Those mechs who were supposed to be his teammates had left him for dead. Perceptor tried to tell himself that it was because they believed him offline for good, surely any mech that took one to the spark and one to the CPU would've surely been so. . . Yet Drift had saved him, a mech who didn't even know his designation. . .

"Think nothing of it," came Drift's cordial response.

Perceptor could only smile.

***

It was such a nice evening, Perceptor thought. Certainly, it was the best one since his injury, and it was still certainly better than most he had before. Drift and him had only shared small talk over those cubes of energon, in the relative peace of Perceptor's quarters. As small as their talk was, it meant great deal to Perceptor. Despite that fragment of happiness, Perceptor was almost paranoid that Drift must've thought him annoying or obsessive. Still, Perceptor couldn't keep his optics off of the shining mech seated on the chair across from him, who was seated on his berth because he only had one chair. There was only one chair because he had never had any need for another, because no one had ever seen him before.

Drift was beautiful, Perceptor thought as he stared at the mech across from him, enthralled in all the sharp angles and smooth curves of Drift. When the mech smiled, Perceptor could feel his spark quiver, and when Drift looked at him, he could feel his circuits race.

"Have you been to many systems?" Drift ask with curiosity, those cool optics looking to him and Perceptor thought the mech was truly interested.

Smiling weakly, Perceptor replied with, "Y-yes, thought I'm not usually on field. Most of the time any samples are collected by the crew, though they often take little care with them. . ."

"Ahh, I have only been to a few planets myself, though I have been doing much more traveling lately," Drift said with the slightest bit of a chuckle. A chuckle that made Perceptor's systems flutter. It had been years since Perceptor had ever been so friendly with another mech. The last time he had even been remotely close with another was with a fellow scientist, Wheeljack, whom Perceptor did miss working with. Yet he had never been so attracted to a mech like he was Drift.

"How are you liking it here, Drift?" Perceptor asked, the first question he had offered, too nervous to ask the swordsmech anything.

Perceptor would watch as Drift's optics lit up and he tilted his helm before looking thoughtful. "It is different from what I am used to, but the company is infinitely better than what I am used to," Drift said with a warm smile.

Feeling his cheeks warm, Perceptor was forced to turn his head shyly away for a moment. While his face felt hot, his backstrut felt cold with all the chills running up and down it.

"Ahh, I hate to leave so early, I've much enjoyed speaking with you, Perceptor, but I must go," Drift said softly, his voice apologetic.

Perceptor would whirl his head around, optics brightening as he spoke, "Oh. . .Okay. . ."

"Kup wanted to speak to me, and I cannot really disregard his orders," Drift continued, "Maybe tomorrow? I would enjoy such a peaceful chat again."

"Of course!" Perceptor said warmly as he watched Drift stand. Part of the scientist believed that Drift had simply grown bored of him already and that the visit tomorrow would never come. Yet such thoughts were pushed away when the pale mech strode over to him before bending low. Perceptor's optics flared as he felt Drift's lips brush over his.

"Take care Perceptor," the mech whispered over his lips before making a gentle press and Perceptor swore his spark pulsed several times over. A sigh broke Perceptor's lips as he felt Drift's hand travel over his cheek before the mech pulled away. All too delayed, Perceptor murmured a, "Y-Yes, you too, Drift." Another smile was exchanged before Drift slipped out, all while Perceptor watched, his CPU focused only on Drift. . .