Chapter Three

Plenoptic

Nothing in particular to say here. Enjoy the chapter :3

Jetfire, Red Alert, Scavenger, Hotshot, and Red Alert are all Armada characters. I know optimus prime 007 is familiar with Armada so I'm fulfilling a little creative flexibility here XD I love G1 but Armada is what I grew up on, so it's got a special place in my heart.

I never know what Optimus I'm using. I guess I'm using movieverse OP because that's what op007 uses.

Translation for previous chapter title:

Certamen is Latin for "conflict."

Jetfire went into recharge feeling raw. His spark felt like Unicron had chewed on it and spat it back out, and Primus simply didn't feel fit to make it feel better. Sighing, he punched his cushion into a more comfortable shape and flopped down onto his front, scowling at the headboard.

Primus. Was he really going to have to choose between Kacey and his two best friends? He loved Kacey dearly, more than he'd ever even imagined it was possible to love a femme, but Optimus and Hotshot meant the world to him. Besides, who knew how his other comrades would handle it? Red Alert obviously hadn't been comfortable talking to him about it. Scavenger clearly disapproved—he hadn't stepped in to stop Optimus from pounding Jetfire to a pulp. Smokescreen hadn't said anything one way or the other, but Jetfire had a feeling that he wouldn't take to kindly to the news, either.

Deciding sleep simply wasn't going to come with his processor this addled, Jetfire released a frustrated sigh and swung his legs over the side of the berth, scrubbing his faceplate tiredly with one hand. A future with his sparkmate or a future with his dearest comrades. What a choice.

He slapped himself roughly, shaking his head hard. What was he thinking? That wasn't the way he was supposed to think! He was Jetfire, after all—the unstoppable optimist! He wouldn't have to choose one way or the other, he'd just make the others understand. He'd fight every mech on base if he had to. He loved his friends, but Kaceystar was in his spark now, and no way in Pit was he going to let her go! He'd make Optimus and Hotshot and Scavenger understand. Primus, he never thought his many femmescapades (now there was the play on words to beat them all) in his youth would ever come back to bite him!

Feeling better now that he had a plan, Jetfire flopped back over and shuttered his optics, making himself relax. He'd talk to Optimus tomorrow. Tackle the summit and then he'd work his way down. Yeah. Tomorrow he'd talk to Optimus. He had a plan.

But recharge still didn't come.

Jetfire wasn't the only one who wasn't getting any recharge that night.

Optimus Prime carefully rolled onto his back, scowling up at the ceiling. He hated recharging on the couch. Elita had been furious with him when he'd woken up, and his desire to go beat Jetfire again hadn't cooled her temper at all.

"They're in love!" she'd insisted angrily. "I know you're her father and I know you're protective of her, I am too, but this isn't our choice to make, it's hers! And Jetfire would be a wonderful sparkmate, you know that just as well as I do!"

Optimus's biggest mistake had been in fighting back. Perhaps if he'd just rolled over for her and agreed to think it over he'd be recharging comfortably in his berth, snuggling against his femme and dreaming of the many ways he could murder Jetfire in the morning. Instead he was stretched out on their couch in the family's living room, his legs dangling off the end and his head squashed awkwardly up against the opposite arm of the couch. Huffing irritably, he sat up and lowered himself onto the floor, pulling a cushion off the couch. Elita hadn't even been kind enough to supply him with a recharge blanket, and it was starting to get cold.

He stretched out, accidentally bumping his head on a nearby table leg. Rubbing his antennae, he groaned aloud. The floor was less comfortable than the couch, and there were a lot more things to hurt himself on down here, but at least he could stretch out his limbs. He woke up with the worst joint aches when he recharged curled up. He was getting old.

Jetfire's just as old as I am! he noted, and then found himself falling back into his previous tirade. He'd have to watch the Godfather again, and see how to use that little rope to suffocate someone—

"Oh, for Primus's sake."

He sat up so fast he whacked his head on the table again. Lifting himself up slowly, rubbing his abused helm, he turned his head to see Elita standing nearby, arms folded over her chest and a bemused expression on her faceplates. His optics followed her as she strode around the couch to kneel in front of him. Primus, she was beautiful. Just looking at her made him feel hot and sent his spark into a whirlwind of activity. He wanted her so badly it made his whole body ache. It'd been a long time since they'd made love; they'd both been busy as of late. He sat up more fully, leaning forward to rest one hand on her thigh, sliding upwards toward her hip.

"Have you been thinking?" she questioned, and he flinched.

"I don't like it," he growled, and she glared at him. "Elita, I'm sorry, but it just doesn't sit well with me. Jetfire's my age, and she's so young…and she's so beautiful, Elita, and you know what Jetfire's like, who's to say he's not just…you know."

"Looking for a fun frag?" she finished, and he grimaced. "Optimus, be realistic. Kacey has a good head on her shoulders, or haven't you noticed that? She's been in relationships before, she knows what she wants in a mech. She's not just being desperate, either, you know any mech on base would fall over himself to be with her."

"I know that," Optimus said quietly. "But Jetfire…"

"Loves you, Optimus. You're his best friend and his dear comrade. He'd never, ever do anything to disrespect you or hurt you."

"Trying to beat me to death doesn't constitute as hurting me?"

"You deserved that, and besides, you started it," she said flatly. "Jetfire likes his fun, I'll admit to that. Even he admits to that. But you know that underneath all that idiot covering is a really, really good mech. You wouldn't trust him so much if you didn't know he was a genuinely honorable and responsible bot."

Optimus hung his head. "I know you're right," he said quietly. "I just…why didn't he consult me first? Why didn't he ask my permission? And why Kacey, of all people?"

"In order, and truthfully? Your first two questions are pretty much answered by our little incident today, aren't they? He knew how you'd respond if he dared to bring up the idea of a relationship with Kacey. And honestly, Optimus, we knew there were going to be plenty of mechs falling in love with her. Jetfire only acts like a moron, I'm sure there's enough sense in his processor that he knows when he's honestly in love. Well. I hope."

"…I just can't bear the thought of her getting hurt," Optimus said softly, and Elita immediately drew him close, caressing his helm tenderly.

"She's not our little femme anymore, Optimus," she whispered, and the truth of it, and the pain that it brought, was felt powerfully in both of their sparks. "She's not the little sparkling she used to be."

"I just miss it so much," he breathed, holding his sparkmate tightly as if she could block the pain bombarding him on the inside. "I miss being able to carry her in my arms, I miss her recharging with me every night. I miss watching the sunrise every morning and I miss her depending on me for everything. I miss her calling me 'Father.'"

"You'll always be her father," Elita assured him gently, rubbing his back soothingly. "And you two are so close, Optimus. She's not going to let that go just because she's found a mate. She's going to love you until the end of time and you know it." She moved back slightly, just enough that she could take his handsome face into her hands. "I know change is hard. I know it's hard to watch them grow. But she is still our daughter." She gently rubbed away a spot of dried energon, brushed away a patch of dirt on his helm. "I feel like we've had this conversation recently."

"I'm sure we did," he said tiredly. "I want her to be happy, Elita. I just don't know if she's making the right choice."

"Only she can know that," Elita told him softly. "It's for her to decide now. If she's willing to sit by Jetfire's side all night just because of a busted jaw, then I'd say her feelings are pretty genuine, Optimus."

The Prime nodded, releasing a heavy sigh. "You're right. Again. How is it that you're always right?"

"Talent," she purred, leaning in to claim his mouthplates in a loving kiss. "Come on. You need recharge. You've got a lot of talking to do tomorrow."

For a long while Ironhide didn't even notice him. It was only when a drone blew up before he could shoot at it did he look over to see the yellow captain standing a few yards behind him, battle visor drawn over his optics, a scowl touching his mouthplates as he fired off round after round. Ironhide watched him absently; either the kid wasn't actually aiming or he was a really, really bad shot.

Ironhide returned to his own shots, deciding that the other mech was best left alone. The shooting range was a good place to blow off steam. If the kid wanted to waste his ammo, so be it, so long as he was restocked before the next battle.

A solid two hours passed during which not a single word was exchanged. Ironhide and Hotshot were not close but not distant; not exactly friends but certainly not enemies. There was a generation gap between them, they each had their own friends and there was little intersection between their social circles. They were really only aware of each other as officers and for the profound roles that they had both played in Optimus's life.

The silence was not really companionable, but it was not uncomfortable either. Ironhide consented to believe that it was just two mechs enjoying the same shooting range. Mechs on the same team, with the same ideals and goals, and really that was all two Autobots needed between them.

And for that two hours it was simple. However, verging on hour three, Kacey decided to enter the range, and then life was complicated all over again.

"Morning," Ironhide grunted roughly, hitting the hold button on the wall and arching an optic ridge at the femme. Hotshot fired off three more rounds before realizing that the drones were no longer moving. Lowering his rifle and lifting his visor, he glanced around curiously and froze when his optics found the femme hovering nervously by the door.

Ironhide glanced from one young bot to the other, feeling that he was definitely missing a puzzle piece here. Not that he wanted to get involved anyway. Young bots and their stupid romances just gave him headaches. Muttering something about going to check up on Chromia (an unfounded excuse; she was likely still recharging), he folded up his cannons, turned off the drone simulator, and tromped past Kacey and out of the range, patting her on the head as he passed.

The silence that followed was awkward, to say the least. Kacey shifted her weight from one foot to the other, intensely occupied with one of Ironhide's scorch marks; Hotshot tapped his rifle against his thigh and rubbed his nose with one finger.

"Look," she blurted out abruptly, lifting her head to look at him desperately, "Hotshot—"

"Kacey—"

"What?"

"Oh, no, sorry, you—"

"No, go ahead—"

"Uhm, ladies first?"

"That's so weak—"

"Well, it's awkward!"

Kacey released a sigh of frustration. "Hotshot, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I truly am. I just…I hate myself for it, but…"

"For what?" he interjected immediately.

"For…I don't know. There's you, there's Rox, maybe even Bee…I'm breaking sparks left and right."

A pause passed between them, and then Hotshot released a bewildered little laugh. "Are you kidding? You're mad at yourself for being perfect?"

"I hate it!" she said heatedly, curling her hands into fists. "And stop laughing!" she added angrily, which only led Hotshot to snicker more.

"Kacey, Kacey, Kacey," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Man, you're young. I think we all forget just how young you really are. Primus, you're still just a kid. Look, Kacey, you're not perfect, because somewhere out there in the universe is someone who's better at something than you. And there's someone who's worse. It's the great equalizer. For instance," he said, hefting his rifle onto his shoulder, "I'm not the smartest mech in the world, like Wheeljack. I'm not as charismatic as Optimus, or as selfless as Jazz, or as witty as Jetfire, or as good with weapons as Ironhide, but hell, I'm the fastest thing on four wheels. And hey, I've persevered through some crazy stuff and I've never given up, and I take a lot of pride in that." He paused, then shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Huh. All the speed and courage in the world couldn't keep me from getting my spark broken, though."

"Hotshot…" She lost the words somewhere between thinking and speaking, so she simply bowed her head, staring hard at the ground as her vision blurred. She felt more than heard his heavy footsteps, and it suddenly struck her how much larger Hotshot was than she'd thought. He was getting to be almost Jetfire's size. So different from the apparently geeky recruit he'd once been.

"Kacey," he said quietly, placing his hands on her upper arms and pulling her into his chest. "Shh. It's okay. I understand. How could I not? You're in love with Jetfire." He paused, steeling himself, before continuing. "I want you to be happy, that's all. That's all. I came to Earth, Kacey…I came to Earth because I was so eager to meet you. Jetfire told me that Optimus had a daughter, and suddenly I just couldn't get here fast enough. I wanted to know what you were like. Optimus had always been something of a father to me. I had to know how I measured up to his real successors. And you were better than me. I wasn't surprised, but you gave me something to strive for."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I'm sorry, Hotshot, I wish I could…if it weren't for Jetfire…"

"Don't talk like that," he interrupted her, shaking his head. "You don't wish you could have me instead. You love Jetfire, don't you? Besides, if he's the only factor between us, that means that in some crazy parallel universe, we're probably already sparkmates, right?"

Kacey laughed weakly, nodding against the strong armor of his chest. "She's out there, Hotshot," she assured him softly. "Somewhere out there is a femme who will really love you, who's better for you than I could ever be."

"I'm sure she is," he replied, nodding absently. One of his hands was rubbing her back; it reminded her of the way her father used to soothe her when she was upset. "Hell, if Jetfire can find his sparkmate, then surely there's hope for me."

"Of course there is," she murmured, and found herself unable to stave off a minute amount of disappointment when he parted from her gently. "Hotshot, have you ever been kissed?"

"What, hoping to steal my first kiss as well as my spark?" He arched an optic ridge and snorted, patting her head. "Yeah, Kacey, I have. Don't you worry about me. I'll be okay. I understand. No hard feelings, right?"

"Yeah. No hard feelings."

"Good," he said briskly, pulling her into one last crushing embrace before giving her a little push towards the door. "Now, go take care of that sparkling Jetfire. No doubt he's still smarting after that beating the chief gave him."

"No kidding. Thanks, Hotshot."

"Nah. Thank you, kiddo."

He put on his brightest smile and waved after her until the doors swooshed closed behind her, and only then did he let his knees find the floor. He brought both fists down onto the hard ground, denta gritted tightly, smile twisting into an expression of absolute anguish.

Damn.

When had Primus put this knife in his spark?

"Kacey," he groaned weakly, the sound coming out in an agonized growl. Damn it. Everything Scavenger and Jetfire and Optimus had taught him—about strength, about bravery, about being invincible, impenetrable—how had the femme managed to undo all those years of tutorage?! He'd spent his whole life working tirelessly, trying to prove himself, trying to become that glorious vision of a warrior he saw in his daydreams. How could just one femme get under his armor like this?!

There was a sharp pain in his back, and with a jolt he realized his coolant systems had shut down. His core temperature was rising steadily and with no sign of stopping. He could feel his joints locking, feel his internal wiring beginning to blister, pressed against his overheated armor, smothering any chance the superheated excess air had of escaping from his burning frame.

His vision was beginning to swim, going white as his optics overcharged. He blinked drowsily, allowing his arms to give way so that he hit the ground. Blinking sleepily at the cracked, scorched floor, he heaved a morose sigh, shuttering his optics lightly. What a damned awful time to get sick. Stress induced? Old shrapnel injuries, perhaps?

…Well. Whatever. Screw the reason. It would be nice to just go to sleep for a little while. Forget about Jetfire. Forget about Optimus. Forget about Unicron and the cold laughter, the dull roar that still haunted his nightmares.

Forget about Kacey.

…Forget? Kacey?

Forget about Kacey? Hah. Only if Primus rearranged some planets first…

Having survived a broken jaw, split armor, many taunts and teases, five missing bedpans, four wrenches to the forehead, and two more attempted murders from his best friend and leader, the

Autobot Air Commander was released from the medical bay by a very relieved Ratchet.

"And stay out," the CMO growled, blue optics narrowing as his chartreuse foot parted with Jetfire's aft. "No more antagonizing Optimus."

"I didn't antagonize anyone," Jetfire whined, but departed without any further remarks. His jaw had been wired shut for the past two Earth days, his aft was sore, his foreplate hurt, and the medical bay didn't have any good places to hide from his malicious, vengeful commander.

Jetfire wanted to see Kacey.

Tromping his way through the base, he made a beeline for the residential floor, his spark leaping at the thought of being alone with the femme again. She'd made as much time for him as she could during his stay in the med bay, but she was an active member of the base—she had duties to attend to, and Jetfire spent a considerable portion of his time under the influence of sedatives while Ratchet worked his jaw back into place.

They'd only been apart for two days, but already Jetfire felt lonely. It had felt like eternity since he'd held her, kissed her, spoken with her, reveled in her soft, lyrical voice…

"Jetfire?"

He spun around from where he'd been trying to hack into her room, something in his chest exploding distinctly at the sight of the femme standing nearby. Her cerulean armor was glittering faintly in the brightly lit hallway, ocean-esque optics blinking at him curiously as though she'd never seen him before.

In a single explosive movement he lunged forward, completely burying the femme in his thick arms and crushing her against his impressive frame. The energon cube in her hand hit the floor and shattered, but she was too caught up in him to notice. He was kissing her, fervently and with a hunger she'd never felt, his glossa and lips engaging hers in a fevered, long-delayed dance.

"J-Jet," she gasped, wrenching her mouth from his, turning her face when he tried to recapture her lips. "Jetfire, not in the hallway…please…"

"I don't care who sees," Jetfire growled softly, burying his face into her sinewy throat. "On the contrary, I want them to see. I love you, and I want everyone to know."

"You may be an exhibitionist, but I refuse to sink to your level," she whispered jokingly, one small hand sneaking up to rub gently at his wing joint. The flier absolutely melted in her arms, groaning softly as a shudder wracked his frame. Primus, that felt nice…

"I missed you, kiddo," he sighed heavily, shuttering his optics lazily and enjoying the soft caress. "You've no idea."

"It was just two days," Kacey giggled, nuzzling his audio receptor gently. "You big sparkling. Hey, did you work things out with my dad?"

"Actually, he tried to kill me. Twice." Jetfire frowned, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her toward his quarters. "Did you make up with Hotshot?"

"Yeah, we're cool. Jetfire, do you need help?" she added innocently, frowning as his fingers groped clumsily at his access pad.

"Ugh, no, I'm okay," he grunted, frowning deeply and narrowing his optics at the numbers seeming to lift off the keys and swim before his optics. "I think your dad fragged up my processor pretty bad. Ah, got it…" The door slid back on its tracks, and Jetfire led his femme in, closing the door behind him and smirking when she busily began unlatching his armor.

"I really need to talk to your dad," he murmured, pressing his mouthplates to her forehead as she mouthed her way around his collar armor. "It won't help my case if I've got your paint smeared all over my armor, love."

"We'll clean up afterwards," she purred, sneaking her hands back up to his wing joint. He tipped his head back against the wall, optics shutters fluttering closed as a long groan came up from the deepest recess of his throat. "Come on, sweetspark, I've missed you."

"I need to talk to Optimus," he repeated, blinking away the haze that had crossed his vision. "Kase, please, I'll come see your right afterwards and you won't be able to get me off of you." He punctuated his words with a quick feel of her aft, smirking when she squeaked in dismay and batted his hand away. He dropped his hand obligingly—only to drop it down again, snatching her thigh and hitching her leg up over his hip. She moaned wantonly when he thrust his crotch against hers, grinding up against her and growling into her throat, biting at the soft metal.

"Thought you needed to talk to Father," she panted weakly, placing a hand on the back of his helm and pulling him in closer.

"Suppose I could wait," he breathed, tracing the smooth lines of her aft and thighs, enjoying the feel of his rising spike against his crotch armor. "After all, many a mech would kill to have the lovely Kaceystar pressed against him so eagerly…"

"Oh, stop," she groaned, shaking her head slightly.

He chuckled, nipping lovingly at her throat. "You don't want me to stop," he whispered, brushing his lips over her jaw as he spoke, vents spilling warm air over her frame. "You want me to take you here and now, on the floor, on the couch, my berth…anywhere, so long as you have me…"

Kacey whimpered, grinding eagerly against his thigh. Her intakes hitched harshly with each movement of his body against hers, processor clouding with lust with each heated kiss.

"Okay, just a quick one," he panted, shakily removing his crotch armor and attempting to soothe his straining erection. Kacey had her own crotchplate on in a second, climbing onto his hips and thrusting against him eagerly, trying to mount his hard spike.

"Hold on, hold on," he chuckled weakly, a wild grin spreading over his face. Primus, it'd been vorns since he'd had a femme try to do it with him standing up! "Come here, femme, let ol' Jetfire take over…"

Kacey smiled blissfully, tucking her head under his chin as he gently maneuvered her onto his spike, groaning at the exquisite tightness of her port. She'd never felt this before—this wonderful balance of physical and emotional attraction for a mech.

"Jetfire," she murmured, kissing him softly to draw his attention to her. "Jet…"

"Mmm?" he groaned, throwing his hips up against hers, opening his optics in a daze and focusing on her blearily.

"I love you, Jet," she whispered, pulling his foreplate to hers and locking their gazes together. "I really, really do love you…"

He blinked twice before a smile touched his faceplates, and he leaned in to kiss her tenderly, tilting her head back to deepen their kiss. Her fingers brushed his cheek hesitantly, and he scooped her up without hesitation, holding her closer than she thought they'd ever been before.

The tender moment, however, was broken cleanly in half at a sharp rapping on Jetfire's door.

The couple froze for a moment, both staring in horror at the doorway, before Kacey scrambled to get off of her mechfriend. Jetfire placed his hands on her hips and lifted her off of him, groaning at the loss of her port, and replaced their crotchplates just as Optimus Prime hacked the access codes.

A long, tense silence passed—Prime swelling, optics darkening and face contorting, mouth pulling back in a growl; Jetfire standing stiffly, nervously, Kacey hovering at his side, one hand on his chestplates, the other wrapped around his waist in a protective sort of gesture.

"Dad," she began, keeping her voice low and soothing. Optimus twitched marginally, hands curling into fists, and Kacey hurriedly paged her mother. Optimus was still in a dangerous state of mind—he definitely wouldn't hurt his family, but Jetfire was a threat and therefore right in the line of fire. Again.

"Dad," Kacey repeated, releasing her hold on her lover to stand in front of him, craning her head to peer into her father's darkened optics. "Dad, snap out of it. Listen to me. Jetfire's done nothing wrong, understand? He hasn't hurt me. I love him, okay?"

Optimus's stance relaxed slightly, but his glowering gaze still didn't leave the pearly white flier standing rigidly before him.

Kacey couldn't help but breathe a long sigh of relief when she heard her mother's hurried footsteps. Elita One appeared behind her mate, panting slightly, looking panicked.

"Oh, good, he hasn't gone berserk yet," she sighed, stepping forward and placing a small hand on her sparkmate's lower back. Optimus didn't react to the touch; his focus was concentrated solely on Jetfire.

"Optimus," Elita murmured, stepping around him, keeping one hand on her mate at all times. As long as he knew she was near, Elita was sure that her huge mech wouldn't make any sudden movements for fear of hurting her. Likewise, though, she needed to move slowly to avoid upsetting him. "Optimus, please relax, love. Just calm down and listen to what Jetfire and Kacey have to say, hm?"

"…No."

"Pardon?"

"No," Optimus growled, his lips curling around the word in a low snarl. "He's the only one I want to talk to."

"Dad…" Kacey began, but Jetfire placed one hand on her shoulder, shaking his head when she looked up at him in surprise.

"No, Kase. It's okay." He lifted his head, meeting his commander's gaze steadily. "We'll talk, Optimus, if that's what you want."

Optimus nodded curtly, turning on one heel and marching from the room without another word. Jetfire shrugged one shoulder at his lover, offered the worried Elita a reassuring smile, and then departed after his leader.

Would keep writing, but…terribly tired. I know it's been forever since I've posted anything, it seems I've hit yet another wall :/ However, the next New Beginnings chapter is nearly done, and then I suppose I'll work on some other things I've yet to hit…I am slowly getting back on track. Anyway, this is just a brief chapter to set up some final conflict resolution, and then we can get into the development (and problems) of Jet and Kacey's relationship :D I've never actually written about a couple that seems like they could have problems, but somehow Jet and Kacey just seem perfect for some serious fights…I can't wait XD Hope you enjoyed, reviews are so loved!!!