Transformers Belongs to Hasbro
He sits at the dining table at his creator's house, toying with his almost empty cube of energon, bored out of his processor and slightly irritated. "No, Mama Glitterfrost, I am not going to back out of this. I've already told you that it is pretty much exactly what I want."
His blue creator puts her servos on her hips, "But Decepticons, Oil Slick? Really?"
He didn't want to have this conversation in person, but this is just how it turned out. "Yes. I'm certain I was a Decepticon before. I'll make sure Megatron doesn't mark me, though. I like my optics."
"But I know you'll end up one of his favorite bots, and he alwaysmarks his favorite bots," Glitterfrost complains, tapping her ped impatiently on the floor.
Oil Slick smiles, "I am a ninjabot, mama. I will have no problem avoiding his brand." He knows exactly how much it hurts and exactly how much he wants to avoid having that electrified metal touch his armor. He would use the most permanent of paints without worry, if Megatron asked, but he would not let himself be branded again.
She waggles a claw at him, "He has other ninjabots, you know. He could have themhold you down as you get branded."
He keeps from rolling his optics, focusing on his energon cube, "They tried to get the entire class to hold me down once, mama. I'm not going to be caught."
She glares down at him, "And what if they chain you up? I know how distracted you get when you're covered in chains."
He really, reallywishes his mamas had knocked that time. They soundproofed his room so they didn't see those things, and the one time he felt comfortable enough to pull out the chains, they come barging in. He's never going to live that down. "I can still escape no matter what."
"Of course you can, sparkling. But it's only natural for us to worry about you. We're your mothers, and you want to join up with a mech notorious for branding his favorites. That includes his ninjabots."
They are obsessed with that fact. "I won't let him brand me." Oil Slick taps his claws on the table. "I will let him know that branding me will cause me to retreat to a ninjabot planet and plot against him. If he wants my loyalty, he has to offer me some level of respect."
His mothers frown at him, and Glitterfrost pokes him with her sharp femme claws, "And you think that Megatron will give you respect? He's a Decepticon. There are lots of good neutral leaders you could join, you know."
He looks over to Mama Wildstar pleadingly, she's always been more willing to accept Decepticons. Sadly, she isn't on his side with this, "He will brand you, and you'll lose your beautiful green optics to horrible red ones. I don't want you going, sparkling."
He rubs his head, "No he won't." He looks at them both, "I'm going to be going even if you don't approve, mamas. You can't stop me."
"If this is truly what your spark desires, you can have it, sparkling," Wildstar says reluctantly. "The Decepticons are a good bunch, even if they're going to eat you up like candy." She waves a servo at him, "You're tiny and you'll end up servicing their sparks more than you'll work in your lab. I hope you're ready to rip sparks out if you want any respect at all among them."
He blanches at the thought, "I'm not'facing any of them."
She smiles, a hard line of her mouth with a tiny quirk to one side, "Good. You're my sparkling, and I don't want you to be their toy."
He keeps from rolling his optics, "I wouldn't allow it, mama."
She tugs him out of his chair, and Mama Glitterfrost moves closer as well, the both of them hugging him possessively. "Good." He's kissed on the head, "We love you, you know."
He sighs softly, letting them hold him, "I know. I love you, too."
"Let him know that we expect you to come visit us at least twice a vorn. Four times if you have to stay away a vorn or more on a mission." Wildstar pinches his cheek. "And if you're missing a full decavorn, then we get you for several stellar cycles. Got it?"
Making demands of Megatron before even joining the Decepticons was foolish. It was reasonable to let him know he did not intend to take a brand for any reason. But he's not going to demand time off when Megatron is known for working his sciencebots hard.
But he also knows better than to disagree when his creators are like this. "Yes, mamas." He pulls away, "But I need to go now. I'm going to be-"
He's grabbed tightly around his waist, Mama Wildstar making sure he doesn't leave, "Like frag you are, sparkling. You can wait until we're done holding you. You aren't leaving for New Kaon until next decacycle, and you're going to be moving in with us until then."
He kicks his peds like an angry sparkling, "Put me down, mamas! This is-"
"Ooh, we have a comcall," Glitterfrost says, and then blinks. "A comcall from Lord Megatron?"
"Put me down" he hisses, kicking harder, aware that he's only making it look worse.
"Good evening, Lord Megatron," Glitterfrost says coldly when she accepts the call. "I understand that you are trying to lure our sparkling to your side? I will have you know that neither of us approve of this."
He's not the least bit happy that he's being held so he can't see the screen, especially when Megatron chuckles. "He is a grown mech, madam Glitterfrost. He is allowed to make any decisions on his own."
Oil Slick flinches at that, it is only going to antagonize his creators. He's proven right when Mama Wildstar hisses, "Stop staring at his aft!" He's spun around fast enough to make him just a little dizzy, even with all his training. "He's our sparkling."
He manages to get his bearings fairly quickly, and the first thing he notices on the screen isn't Megatron clearly leering at him - obvious though it is-, but is the purple triple-changer in the background. It isn't the jetbot he sees in his dreams all the time, but it is instantly obvious that it is General Blitzwing. His spark does a small jolt of happiness, and he almost falls over from it.
He needs to leave before he does anything foolish.
The next thing he knows, he's in his room from rushing away, and the door is locked firmly as he leans, panting, against it. After a little bit, he smacks himself in the face. He just did something incredibly foolish when he pulled the disappearing act.
Megatron is going to wonder why he ran. Might even realize it was because of Blitzwing, and nothing good will come of that. Hopefully he'll take it as Oil Slick trying to escape his creators instead, but he has no guarantee of that.
He rubs his sparkplates absently, trying to calm his pulsing spark. He hopes that Blitzwing does not feel this way when he sees him.
He cracks open his door, and he can hear his creators screaming about how Megatron clearlyscared him away, and how horrible the Decepticon leader is. He closes the door, and silence reigns.
... His first sol at work isn't going to be much fun.
Oil Slick taps his claws absently on the arms of the chair in the spaceship he's taking to New Kaon. Well, actually, he has his own private room he's in, since it is such a long trip there when they can't use Autobot space bridges, but that doesn't mean he's not irritated. His mothers somehow managed to get everything they had wanted from him and moreout of Lord Megatron.
And he hadn't listened in to know how they had done it.
It was frustrating, to say the least.
He vents and lays back, sliding his claws up his frame lightly, testing his sensitivity. He's prepared to have Megatron try and pull him in the berth. He will be a very tempting target, since he has resisted the mech thus far. Even the vids the mech has sent him, including the one of Starscream having his spark fragged while he moaned Oil Slick's name have not swayed him in his position.
His spark is firmly attached to Blitzwing, and there is nothing he can do about it.
He groans unhappily, lifting his peds up to the chair, burying his head in his knees, optics offline. He wishes he knew why his spark was acting like this. That small glance of the mech did nothing but increase his dreams and the feeling of longing he has.
He wishes he knew whythis was happening. He has all the classic symptoms of a bot that had a sparkbond, but this is with a bot well known to not have bonded at all.
Bots did not hide sparkbonds. Blitzwing is on record as not having a bond, and was being rumored to have many lovers over the course of his life, though the rumors always center around Shockwave. A bot never recovered from a sparkbond like that. Never.
If he was with Shockwave, then there was no way Blitzwing had been bonded.
And Oil Slick was just a lovesick spark that had chosen to reincarnate to better stalk the spark it loved. Loved without reciprocation.
He liked it more when he had thought that he was a reincarnated bot that had his bonded not follow him out of the Well.
He rubs his optics into his knees, spark hurting now. He could just drop into Lord Megatron's berth and try to be happy, but that wouldn't work. He's nevergoing to be a berth bot. If he gives up and allows it, he's just going to stay there and never be the scientist he knows he can be.
He's going to work for Scalpel, for Primus's sake. Scalpel is even smaller than him, and is well known for being absolutely terrifying.
He can do that.
Whatever it takes.
Flicking fragments of glass off of his frame, Oil Slick strides past the startled mechs and back towards his lab. He's only been here on New Kaon for a single sol now, and it's as good a time as any to establish his reputation.
Oil Slick had been walking through the hall, trying to find his berthroom-he'd stayed in his lab all night long, setting it up to his satisfaction, even if it is only a part of Scalpel's lab that he's been allowed to use. He hadn't even had a chance to meet the tiny mech, yet. Scalpel is apparently on vacation, because he won't be in until the next sol.
But he'd been trying to find a berth, and had very rudely been scooped up by a mech in the mess hall, his head tipped back as a glossa invaded his mouth.
The shattered optics were less than the bot deserved, but more than enough to sate Oil Slick's urge for vengeance.
He imagines that his creators will be proud of him for it, especially since Lord Megatron had apparently promised them that he'd update them once a sol on what Oil Slick was doing. He's hoping Megatron isn't planning on trying to convince his creators to join in the berth as well.
The thought of it makes him shudder in disgust and terror.
They are femmes, and very pushy. Nothing good could come from such a thing. Especially since they'd be pushing his flock leader into things, which will do nothing to help his state of mind in the least.
He's passed Starscream a few times, and it's harder with each bit of contact not to throw himself at Starscream's peds and beg his wingleader for comfort. And Blitzwing . . he hasn't seen Blitzwing much yet, other than a very brief introduction in the throne room.
His spark had trembled with desire, and Oil Slick had to force his optics to stay on the floor and not on Blitzwing the entire time. The triple-changer had stared at him for a very long time as well.
His spark still trembles with want at the thought of the purple mech. Even though the bot somehow has three faces now in addition to being a triple-changer.
He wants to climb into Blitzwing's berth, and tuck himself against the mech's frame.
Sadly, that will never happen. Not with how the bot seems so veryunstable. If the mech was as rational as the bot in his dreams, he would be tempted to try, but he knows the bot can fly off the handle at the slightest provocation now.
His spark hates how scared he gets at the idea of the bot's Hothead personality crushing him beyond repair for daring to even look at him. He knows the bot has done it to others in the past, and he has no wish for it to happen to him.
If Blitzwing is interested, he will approach on his own. Oil Slick would be willing, at this point, to even suffer a threesome with fragging creeper Shockwave if it means his spark will get to touch the spark of the one it loves. But he won't go out of his way to make that happen. It's a last resort type of way to get at Blitzwing's spark.
Oil Slick brushes off a few shards of optical glass from his seams. He wishes the stuff wouldn't shatter so messily.
He's interrupted from his thoughts by a soft thump on his shoulder, and glancing over, he sees Scalpel sitting on him. The tiny mech adjusts his glasses and looks at him closely, "Vell... zis is not somezing I expected." His headscrew is touched, and he wants to recoil from the intimacy, but keeps himself still. "You are not as pretty as I had hoped vhen Megatron und Starscream say zey vant to frag you."
He resumes walking, "They know I'm a sparkbonded bot that hasn't found his bonded. I'm a novelty for them." Even though he's more of a sparklostbot than anything.
Scalpel adjusts his glasses again, looking over the rims at him. "Nein. Zat vould only account for some of his lust for your frame. Ze rest must be because of your size and shape." Scalpel touches his head screws again, sliding his tiny claws along them. "He enjoys seeing ze small bots in his berz viz Starscream."
He moves his head away, not wanting to be touched there again, "I am still not going to be joining them." He has no interest. He just needs to keep ignoring his flockleader's demands, and it will stop happening.
Hopefully.
Scalpel tisks softly, petting his helmet, "Zey arefun in ze berz. But, I suppose," the bot waves a tiny servo, "zat it is a bad idea to go so soon to it, ja? Ze bots will see you as nozing but a berz toy." The bot's mandibles click once in satisfaction, "But you took care of zat."
"If I'd had any chemicals with me, I would have made it a more fitting punishment." Melted the bot's servos off, perhaps, or poured something on his sparkplates to weld them shut until a medic removed them entirely. "But you make due with what you have." He shivers when Scalpel pets his head screws again, making his spark slowly heat up.
Scalpel cuddles in close to his neck, "Zat you do." The claws tease at his dome recess, running around the rim of it, "I am told zat you have more zan one way of protecting your head. Maybe you should have zat up when you are just around ze place?"
He smiles, "I can do that."
His neck is pinched, "Not right now, zough. You vill stay like zis viz me." Claws play with his headcrews, "I zink zat ve should go to ze lab, ja?"
"I have already seen it," he admits, wishing the little bot would stop trying to arouse him. "I set up a workspace for myself, and-"
Scalpel hisses and pinches his headscrew sharply, "You have tampered viz my lab?"
He does not flinch, and continues down the hall. "Of course I have. You put a datapad note on the table that told 'Pretty bot' to use that area for his experiments. Did I assume incorrectly that you were referring to me?"
Tiny claws soothe his pinched screw, "Nein. Zat space vas for you. But if you have tampered viz ze rest of my lab, you vill be punished."
He doesn't glare, even though he wants to. "I know better than to change parts of the lab I'm not allowed into."
Scalpel toys with the edge of his helmet, optics dim, "Such a good bot." The mech hums for a moment, and finally tugs his helmet away from his neck, "Did you online viz zis?"
He puts his metal mesh of a helmet back in place, "Yes. It protects my neck cabling. I once took a star to it, and didn't get more than a dent." Prowl was still punished quite severely for it, even if it was an accident. One didn't use lethal force on a fellow student.
Oil Slick gets pinched, and the tiny claws slip up under the helmet again. "It is very nice. Ze screws hold it in place, ja?" Scalpel tugs on it, bringing a bit up to his optics to study. "I like zis. I zink some sol, I vill make you vork vizout it in ze lab. Zat vay, I can admire your bare armor." He dims his optics, "Und perhaps some sol I vill have you vork in your protoform. Viz harmless chemicals, of course."
He sighs softly, "Yes, Scalpel." He knows he won't be able to get out of it. That's just how these sorts of things work with such small bots. They are pushy, or they never get anything. He's just glad that Scalpel isn't a femme in addition to it. That would be a reason to never go to the lab at all.
The little bot makes a tiny, happy chirping sound, "Good." Claws play with his headscrews again, "You will show me ze way your lab space vorks, and zen I vill see if I vant you to change anyzing." Claws dip into the slots on the screws, "It is too bad zat your face is not as pretty as ze rest of you. Maybe ve should do some modification, ja?"
"My creators are fond of my face and my frame. I do not intend to alter or modify myself for any purpose but lab work." Oil Slick plucks Scalpel off of his shoulder and places the bot on the table in the lab. "If you have modification suggestions for labwork, I will happily consider them. I am willing to accept extensive modification to make me a better sciencebot. Modifications for beauty, on the other servo," he shrugs, "I have no interest in. I am not trying to be a pretty berthbot."
The little bot taps his adorable peds on the table, clearly trying to stomp angrily but failing in the cutest way possible. "If I vas going to make you a berzbot, you would have vings und rotors installed as vell."
His spark leaps at the thought of flying, but he keeps his expression neutral as he looks down at his boss. "No. I'm not doing that at all."
Scalpel waves a servo, "I said if. Not zat I vould. You are not going to be in my berz all ze time." The bot's optics dim, "Just some of ze time."
He gives the bot a very flat look, then taps his own chest, right above his spark, "Sparkbonded bot that hasn't found his bonded. Not happening."
"Zat does not mean you are currently sparkbonded, little mech," Scalpel croons. "You vill find zat zere are certain . . . zings zat I am capable of doing in ze berz zat ozer bots are not. Some of zhose zings involve chemicals zat should numb ze negative reaction of your spark." He touches Oil Slick's sparkplates. "You vill be villing for me, ja?"
"Not if you treat me like a sparktoy."
The mech smiles at him, petting his plates softly, "Ve vill see, ja?"
He's not telling fragging anyonehow much he loves chains. Ever. It is a certain way to keep him stuck in a berth and never being let out again.
He moves away, "We'll see." He waves a servo at the corner of the lab he was given, "But I fixed this up. Is it fine, or do I need to change it around?"
"It looks alright." Scalpel skitters over and adjusts one set of glass vials so they are two micrometers to the left of where they had been. "Zere. Now it is better."
Oil Slick stares at him for a long moment, and then sits down. "Of course. That makes all the difference."
"Ja. I am glad you understand," Scalpel skitters across the table, his dainty peds tapping as he walks. It's temping to reach out and tug on those little peds, but Oil Slick knows better than to tempt fate that way.
He taps his claws on the table, watching as Scalpel makes tiny purring sounds. "Is there any project that I needed to get started on?"
The bot tilts his head, then taps over to him, climbing into his lap demandingly, "Ja. Ve Vill be vorking on chemical testing." Oil Slick moves his servo to start petting the smaller bot, "Zat can be done from here, since it is too dangerous to vork viz near a spark." The mech reaches up, and touches his plates, "Even von as vell protected as I am told yours is."
"I intend to increase that protection." Oil Slick lets Scalpel have the controls, flicking on the screen so they can watch the drones move in the next room over. "Some sol, I hope to be modified enough that I can work with any chemical. Even those that are instant death to other mechs."
Scalpel snorts, "Know zat vhen you do, you villend up in Megatron's berz. Likely for a decacycle or two, vizout any breaks."
He waves a servo, "I am very good at escaping. Not even a school of ninjabots, including my senseis, could keep me tied down." Unless he wanted to be, anyway.
Scalpel prods him, "Zat does not matter. You vill be in his berz, or you be vizout a job or possibly your spark. He is not a bot zat you can turn down."
He shakes his head, "Sparkbonded bot."
Scalpel gives him a flat look, "You say zat like it vill protect you from all your problems. It vill not, and you need to realize zis. Until you find ze bot you are bonded viz, you are not going to get out of it."
Oil Slick falls silent and watches Scalpel direct the drones to test the chemicals, mixing them as toxic vapors fill up the room. One of the drones has a servo melt, and Scalpel curses, "I hate vhen zat happens."
"I can understand your frustration," Oil Slick takes the controls from Scalpel's servos. He has to use his claw tips to use them, because they are so very small. "You need to rotate the drones to keep them from overheating."
Scalpel frowns at him, mandibles clicking at him angrily, "Zen you do it." The little bot glares from his lap up at the screen while he works. The mech eventually settles down to watch curiously, only stopping him to point out where he can improve.
They work for a solid megacycle doing this, only part way finished, when Shockwave steps in. Looking over at the bot, his spark goes cold with jealousy. Thatis the bot that has his Blitzwing, and he'll never be able to have him if the mech continues to be in his way.
Shockwave strides over to them, claws twitching, "How is my favorite sciencebot this sol?"
Scalpel hisses and rears back on his back legs, front peds held up, points angling forward like weapons, "Shockvave! You know you are banned from my labs!"
Large claws slide over Oil Slick's frame, inspecting him. "I see you have acquired a new bot." Oil Slick is picked up, and he tenses unhappily, "He is smaller than I was expecting. I am quite pleased by your size, Oil Slick."
He squirms a little bit, unsure if he should escape or not, "Let go of me."
The claws drag up his side, "Maybe I should take you to my berth when you are done?"
He is nothalf that desperate to be with Blitzwing. He kicks his servos out, just clipping the mech in the face, not wanting to damage a favored bot. "No."
"No?" Shockwave wraps his claws around Oil Slick's legs. "That is not the answer I like hearing from little bots."
Scalpel hisses up at him, "He is mine. You vill put him down and let us get back to vork, or I vill report zis to Lord Megatron. You know you are not allowed in zis lab vizout him as an escort."
The larger bot sighs and places Oil Slick on the table. "Very well. I will speak to my lord first, and acquire permission to take the pair of you to my berth."
Oil Slick shudders as the mech leaves, and drops to the floor, "Is he always like this?"
Scalpel taps his peds in that approximation of stomping, "He normally does not come into my labs at all, since he knows zat I vill not allow him in!" The bot fumes, arms crossed, "I vill nevergo to zat mech's berz. Ever."
He rubs where Shockwave touched his leg, disliking the clawmark on it. "He is not very... pleasant," he pulls out a cloth and starts to clean up, "to say the least."
Scalpel nods sharply, "Ja. I vould not allow him in at all if I could, but sometime Lord Megatron requires it."
He is Megatron's spy. It is not surprising that the mech allows him wherever he pleases. He probably has his cameras installed even in Megatron's quarters.
In the other room, all the drones have melted into slag, and Oil Slick curses the mech twice over for it. "Fragger just made us start all over again."
"Ja. He has a vay of doing zat." Scalpel taps his peds unhappily on the table, and then skitters on to Oil Slick's lap, curling up against him. "I do not zink Lord Megatron vill order you into zat mech's berz."
"He can't really order me into his berth, so I don't see why being told to go to Shockwave would be any different." Now, if Starscreamdid, that would be a different matter. His flockleader is a bot that his processor keeps screaming at him to obey and tell him that he's there. The seeker is clearly very depressed about his lost flock, even in that tiny glimpse he saw in the dining hall. He can tell his flockleader is only just barely keeping it together about it.
If Megatron isn't careful, Starscream is going to snap and it will be messy. Most likely with a bomb to the back and no one around to witness it. The seeker is well known to not do well without other seekers to brace him.
If Megatron was a wise leader, he would take Starscream to Vos and and help the seeker choose new mechs for his flock. At the absolute least, Starscream would need two companions, so he could find the release of trine-flying and the support of a functional trine.
Perhaps he'll try and hunt down one of the datapads that Oil Slick knows exists, all about seeker flock dynamics, and then leave it on Megatron's throne. It would teach the mech that Starscream neededa flock to support him.
And free him from the danger of a reformat if he ever accidentally reveals himself.
He likesbeing a cyclebot, thank you very much. He's not going to lose his singing voice, his hard earned grace in his frame, or any number of other things. He's not returning to seeker frame no matter how much he longs for the sky.
It just isn't what he wants anymore.
Scalpel prods him in the head, "Stop ze daydreaming, my minionbot. You vill be vorking. I vill not have zis slacking off."
He smiles, returning his attention to the sealed off lab, "Yes, Scalpel."
Please Review
And, Moonlight black rose, thank you so much for all those reviews! I'm sorry I couldn't reply to any of them, but you have private messaging off. They made Tash and I smile.