Transformers Belongs To Hasbro
He can't do this.
Blitzwing is staring at him blatantly across from his lab counter. "You like chains, ja?"
He looks frantically around the lab, wondering where the frag Scalpel is. When he can't findhis fragger of a boss, he nods reluctantly. "Y-yes." He can't take a step away, having to remain where he is, so he doesn't ruin what he's working on. "Did you need something?"
"Ja." He studies Oil Slick critically. "You are not my normal type. I do not go for ze treads," which was strange, because Shockwave was covered in treads, "But I do go for ze chains. You vill look lovely tied to my berz." Blitzwing scoops him up and Oil Slick's spark goes crazy with want and hope. "You will not object, will you?"
His optics flicker, entirely against his will, "I .. I w-"
Strika strides into the room, yanking him out of Blitzwing's arms, and it takes everything he has not to dig his claws into the triple-changer's armor to not get yanked away. "You, little bot, you are vhat I need for my team. You vill be coming, yes?"
He blinks in surprise, "I am?"
She nods firmly, "You are. Now, vill you be coming or not? It vill stop all the propositions you have been getting for the last few decacycles. You vill accept?"
"Yes," he answers quickly, if only to escape Blitzwing. He doesn't want to risk upsetting Shockwave. He knows the mech is possessive as frag, and as much as his spark longs for Blitzwing, he won't risk it. "I will."
"Then ve vill be going now." She lays a datapad on the table and smiles meanly at Blitzwing. "He is ours now, Blitzving. You vill not be having him. Not vhen he belongs to team Chaar."
His spark cries out in dismay, but he ignores it, just like he's gotten used to ignoring it. He takes the datapad, reading the mission parameters as Blitzwing glares at Strika. "He was not rejecting me, Strika. I am allowed to ask him if he wants to be in my berz."
She smiles even wider, all dente, "He is team Chaar's. That means you vill not touch him. Go back to your berth, you vill not have him now."
The triple-changer flips to Hothead and curses at her, and she wraps protective arms around Oil Slick, carrying him away. When they're in the hallway, Oil Slick arches an optic ridge, trying to regain his calm. "I would like to object to my role in this upcoming mission. We are required to go undercover, and you have me playing the part of your berthwarmer."
She smirks at him, petting his plates. "You vill not have to 'face me, little bot. Ve vill be keeping you safe. You are needed to keep the bots off our tracks. Do you have any chemical weapons vith you?"
He rolls his optics, "Of course I do. I just don't want to be thought of as a petjust because I'm not a traditional size for Decepticons."
She takes out a cloth, rubbing his plates, "You vill not have on the brand for this, either. Ve vant you to pretend not to be associated vith us at all. It vill make it easier."
The plan calls for him to sneak into several private buildings and gather documents. In his free time, he's to make chemical weapons for the rest of the team. And he's to do all of this while staying in a hotel that is noted for the way prostibots use it as a place to take clients. "I do not like this plan."
She taps him on the nose, "You are an important part of the plan. Ve vill need you, and you have already agreed."
He glares, "You asked me when I was trying to get away from a bot," lies, "and didn't show me the mission until after. This is trapping me."
She snorts, "Decepticon, little bot. You know how ve vork."
He's going to have to get used to that.
Blinking his optics vapidly, Oil Slick does his best impression of a bot that has had their entire processor removed and replaced with a very damp sponge. "Oh? I wasn't aware I was supposed to stay out of this hall. I'm so sorry." He minces over to the guardmech and rests his claws on his chest. "My . . .client said it was okay."
Primus, he hates this mission.
The mech raises an optic ridge, "Really?" The bot picks him up, "Clients are not the ones that make the rules here."
He really wants to jam his claws in the mech's optics, especially since the bot is groping and squeezing his aft. "They aren't?" He blinks up at the guardbot, optics flickering vacantly, "But I was told that anything the client wants is what they get?"
"Who do you work for, little mech? You must have someone to take care of you." The bot's claws slide into his seams, tweaking his wiring. "I could forgive you for coming in this private hall if you give me a ride for free."
He widens his optics and looks as scandalized as possible, "No! No! I'm not allowed to give free rides! Let me go!" he squirms and manages to free himself, running off with just a hint of ninjabot speed to avoid the guard's attempts to grab him again. He'd have to write this one off as a failure. He's not allowed to kill any bots on this mission unless in self-defense.
Strika is going to be pissed.
He twitches, almost impreceptively, as Strika talks to one of the bots for the mission, his back being petted absently. He has long since tuned them both out, since it isn't anything important, and he's only there as lap candy. He knows that his creators would be fragging ecstatic if this got reported to them. He may not have found his sparkbonded, but - joy of joys - he's with a femme.
Primus, he's bored.
A sharp pinch brings him back to attention, and he squirms his hips the way Strika showed him, and it draws the other bot's optics just like she said it would.
"Is your mech up for offers too?" the bot asks, watching Oil Slick wriggle enticingly as Strika fondles his aft.
"No."
The bot looks disappointed, "But he is so unique. I've never seen a bot with treads like that." Pity about his face, clearly there but not said. That is not something you point out to a femme. Especially one as intimidating as Strika.
She rubs Oil Slick's faceplates, "He is very unique. That is vhy he is not part of the offer. I vill not be sharing him."
He is thankful that his sparkbond means he's never going to be part of any deals like this. If he didn't have it, it is certain he'd be up for grabs, just to make this easier. Slag, if he didn't have the bond, it is very likely he'd be perfectly fine with it.
He is a ninjabot, after all.
The idea of sharing his spark with many bots is excellent. He wants to experience that with all of his spark in theory.
But in practice, it is not satisfying to share sparks with other bots. Not satisfying at all. He sighs, and curls against Strika, trying to look like his processor has gone missing, and he's being kept around for his hot spark.
He wants to go back to his lab. At least Scalpel is always willing to demand he do something. The most he's done on this fragging mission is sneak into a few houses and buildings to get documents.
It's just so boring.
He's dropped in the middle of the lab by Strika, finally being allowed on his own two peds. "There, little bot. Back safe and sound. You vill be going to your creators' home soon, since they have demanded you go."
"Fine." Oil Slick hasn't been gone long enough to warrant a trip back home, but he's not stupid enough to argue with Strika.
His team leader.
He feels a bit giddy at that. His very own team. Even if most of his assignments were essentially pretending to be a whorebot and fetching documents when he was able to. No real action at all.
He is not surprised to find himself under attack the very moment Strika is out of sight. Especially since it isn't really an attack, and more a flying hug. "Vhere vere you? You vere gone too long! You vill not do zis to me again! I vill not let you!"
He shifts so the bot is in his arms, petting Scalpel softly, "I was off with my team on a mission, Scalpel. I'm a ninjabot, and that means I'm too valuable to just leave in a lab when I could be utilized on the field."
"I do not like it," Scalpel says stubbornly, stamping his dainty peds. "You vill stay viz me from now on and ve vill make lovely science togezer. Lovely, lovely science. Vill you stay?"
Oil Slick snorts, "It sounds like you're proposing to me, and we both know how inappropriate that would be, Scalpel. I'll work with you when I can, but I am an official member of Team Chaar now. I can't just avoid my responsibilities. Do you get that?"
The bot nuzzles his servo, "You should stop being viz team Chaar, und stay viz me."
He rubs the mech's head softly, "No. I can not. I am also being called away to my creators, as well. I will have to go soon."
His claws are nipped at, "Nein. You vill do no such zing. You vill stay viz me. Tell zem I claim you. Ve vill be painted at dawn."
He looks down at the bot, optic ridge raised, "You better be joking, Scalpel. You are not the bot I'm bonded to."
"Nein? You do not even remember his name, ja? I could be ze bot you are bonded to." Scalpel preens, standing as tall as he can. "You vill bond viz me, and if you ever find anozer bot zat makes your spark sing, ve vill zree-vay bond and be very happy."
He pats Scalpel's head. "No."
Scalpel nibbles on his claw, looking up at him with large adorable optics, "Ja. You vill bond viz me, und ve vill be very happy."
He shakes his head, "You would leave your Dreadwing all alone?"
The bot pauses, thinking about it. "Ve vill..." Scalpel trails off, frowning. "You vill bond viz me. So zat no von can steal you avay again."
"It will be alright, Scalpel. I will spend as much lab time with you as possible." The mech was so obviously lonely. "Would you like to come watch a film with me tonight? You can bring Dreadwing, and we can enjoy energon sweets. I know that the common room dispenser has whipped energon tonight as a special."
Scalpel perks up a little. "Vhipped energon? Viz rust sticks?"
He pulls a rust stick out of his subspace, "If there aren't any near the dispenser, you will still have some."
The mech snatches it from his servo, nibbling at the end adorably, "Ja. I vill go viz you." The bot pauses, "Ve vill vatch ze film in my rooms. I do not vant ozers to covet my Dreadving."
He nods easily, "We can do that." Scalpel's couch is more comfortable than Oil Slick's berth, anyway. He doesn't mind if he falls into recharge there.
"We saw vid captures of you with General Strika!" Glitterfrost says gleefully over their energon cubes, and Oil Slick sips at his slowly.
"Mothers, it was not what you think. Not at all." He places the cube on the table and vents. "She is my team leader now. I have been promoted to a position on team Chaar. I'm not sure if Megatron told you about that or not, but the position is meant to be a permanent one. When I am not working with Scalpel, I am with team Chaar, training for combat."
Wildstar frowns, "Hm. What about your education? I know you wanted to go to the Academy."
He nods, "But that's why I'm working with Scalpel. It is more like one on one tutoring. I'll have all the education I need working with him."
Glitterfrost pokes him, "But you wanted to know more about chemistry. Scalpel doesn't do that."
He smiles, "Yes he does. It isn't his main area, but he knows quite a bit, and is able to get a hold of datapads and things so I can free study."
His mamas give him an odd look, and Wildstar puts a servo over his, "Are you giving up on your dream to be a great scientist just to work with Scalpel? You wanted a lab of your own, and now..." She trails off meaningfully, and frowns at him.
He smiles, "I'll be getting my own lab in a decavorn or so. It isn't a big deal."
"Will you really? Or will Scalpel keep you in a subordinate position?" Wildstar rubs his servo gently, "You do realize that's how most Decepticons work? They don't like having their favorite bots taken away, or given a higher rank. He might try and keep you from getting your own lab."
The bot wasn't like that. He knew it. "He's a sciencebot, mothers. He won't impede my progress even if he wants to."
Mama Glitterfrost frowns at him, rubbing his arm, "You don't knowthat, sparkling. It's Scalpel. He's not known for his stability."
Oil Slick shrugs, "I think he's just lonely, mamas. He likes having me there, but we have talked about me getting my own lab. He wants me out of the way so I can work on my specialty, but wants me close enough to talk to. I'd just move down the hall from him, and he'd be happier."
His mamas both look doubtful, but Oil Slick knows that Scalpel will prefer having his lab private again, with Oil Slick coming over for the occasional joint experiment or shared cube of energon. Few sciencebots were truly happy having to share their space with an invader, even if they liked that other bot. If the bot were not minionbot material, they quickly shoved the bot out.
And Scalpel got over calling him his minionbot after only one argument where Oil Slick was correct and Scalpel was wrong.
Wildstar nods reluctantly, squeezing his servo, "I suppose." She smiles again, "But! Strika! You were on her lap and being petted! Does this mean you found out she's your sparkbonded?"
He sighs, "I told you she's my team leader. Nothing to do with my bond at all."
Glitterfrost gives him a disappointed look, "But she couldbe your sparkbonded, couldn't she? Or possibly Lugnut. You said your bonded is purple to us once."
"If either of them was my sparkbonded, they would not have gone and gotten into a serious relationship. It's," he rubs his chest absently, "unpleasant to interface with bots that have the wrong spark. Not awful, but not good, either. And when you have memories of what interfacing with your spark's perfect match is like, even if they managed to get interfacing to a tolerable level, it's not something you wantto do."
Mama Wildstar frowns at him, "Have you found your sparkbonded yet? We were kind of hoping that since you went to the Decepticons, you'd be able to get him there. Is he?"
His face falls, and he stares at the table, not wanting to talk about how he thinks he's not actually a sparkbonded bot, but one that is a sparkbroken bot. He hates how his spark insists that he should be with Blitzwing when it is so very clear that Blitzwing is with Shockwave and couldn't have been bonded at all.
He's just... a stupid lovesick seeker.
"Sparkling?" Glitterfrost asks, touching his shoulder gently. "Did you find him? Is he . . offline?"
If he lies to them now, they're going to be so very angry with him later, but if he tells them that his spark cries out for Blitzwing, they will ruin everything and tell the mech that Oil Slick is panting after him. And then he'll end up offlined by Shockwave. Or as their berthtoy.
"I haven't found him yet, Mamas. But," he has to give them something, even if it disappoints them, "I know he's a mech. I remember that much."
He's pulled from his chair to his mamas' laps, and held closely, "We don't carethat you love a mech, sparkling. We just want you happy." His back is rubbed softly, and Mama Wildstar continues, "Yes, we'd like it if you had been with a femme, but you were sparkbonded." She kisses the top of his head, holding him closer, "That's better than anything else."
Now he feels even worse. He is certain he wasn't bonded, even with that one memory of Blitzwing telling him that they were blessed by the Allspark. He can't be sure if his spark is just stupid and imagining everything. He hasn't gotten anywhere in his meditation on finding his name, and he doesn't know what to doabout this. He was fine with just pushing it away and dealing with being in the lab or working on the mission, but now his creators want him to think about it.
"I think I'll go meditate," he says softly, barely loud enough for them to hear. "Perhaps more will come to me if I try to focus on it." His creators let him go with kisses to his forehead and hugs that leave dents on his frame, and Oil Slick makes his way to his old ninjabot academy, settling himself into the crystal garden without informing them of his arrival.
They're ninjabots. If they weren't aware of his arrival immediately, they need remedial training.
He can feel several bots popping in to look at him, but he ignores them. If they really want to talk to him, they'll just talk. The first bots that actually interrupt him are actually a class of sparklings that are lead by Streetwise of all bots. The carbot was never much of a ninja in Oil Slick's opinion, but it is better than no one, really.
He onlines a single optic to look at the sparklings, then offlines it to focus on meditation. He doesn't even move when one crawls into his lap and asks, "Why are you meditating here, and not the organic garden?"
He puts his arms down, wrapping them around the tiny minibot, petting the little bot's frame like he remembers his teachers doing, "I have a black thumb. The organic plants will die around me if I stay near them too long."
"Oh." The minibot stares at him with wide optics. "That's sad. Did you know that I went to the temple?"
Oil Slick rubs the bot's back, "Did you really? Did you like it there?"
Nodding, the minibot sparkling continues, "We saw the temple fortune teller and he said," the minibot frowns, obviously trying to remember, "he said that I was going to bond to a bot with a black thumb. Will you bond with me?" The sparkling looks up at him with hopeful optics.
"You're not old enough for a bond, little bot."
The minibot pouts at him, blue optics wide, "But you have a black thumb."
He smiles, tapping the little mech on the nose softly, "I am already bonded, though. I am trying to find him."
The sparkling beams, "It could be me!"
He chuckles, shaking his head, "You are green and red, while my bonded is purple and tan." That's actually more information than he's ever given any other bot, but it doesn't hurt to let a sparkling know about Blitzwing's colors. "We are not bonded."
The sparkling pouts, leaning against him, "I want to be, though. Do you think my bonded will love me?"
"You don't bond with a bot unless you love them." Or, if you're of a very high rank in your culture, if the bond is an advantageous one, in which case you learnto love your bondmate over time. "When you find them, you'll know." He tweaks the minibot's horns. "Don't discount any bots just because they don't have a black thumb. The fortune teller has been wrong before, little one."
The minibot squirms out of his arms and stamps his ped, "No! I will bond with a bot with a black thumb and you can't stop me!"
He laughs softly, "Just don't think it is a bot like me, little bot." He holds out his servo, wiggling his claws, "They may mean a literally black thumbed bot. Do you see how mine are yellow?"
The minibot freezes, and takes his servo, inspecting it closely, "So my bonded could have black painted thumbs?"
He nods, "Or just a single black thumb. Or be like me. Any number of things. Just let your life go as it is, little mech. You will fall in love with a bot you adore and get bonded. Don't pay attention to what the fortune teller said until you're older. Keep it in mind, but don't think of it as the only reason you should bond with a bot. Maybe later on, you will find the bot they were talking about."
"No." The sparkling stamps away, and stops to look over his shoulder and stick out his glossa before running over to hide behind Streetwise.
Sparklings were such silly things.
Another bot comes over to touch his chest. "You're a Decepticon." The racecar mech nods his head and touches the mark again. "Do you eat sparks? Mama said Decepticons eat sparks. And Autobots are berthwarmers. Do you eat Autobots?"
He chuckles softly, "No. I don't do either of those things." A spark is too useful to be eaten. He can think of all sorts of things to do with a live spark in his experiments. He's heard that he could do more with a sparkling spark, but the thought of experimenting on sparklings sickens him. At least an adult bot made their choice on what side to be on, while a sparkling still has time to learn what to do.
The sparkling frowns at him, "What doyou do, then?"
He smiles, "I work in a lab. I make things."
"Do you make candy?" a tiny femme asks him, crawling onto his lap to demand his attention. "My papas make candy for my mama a lot. My mama is carrying another sparkling." She frowns, "I don't want a brother. I told them to give him back to Primus and they said no."
Rubbing her helmet vents, Oil Slick tries to reason with her, "If you have a brother, you'll have a bot to play with at home." He's mostly surprised that a femme with two mechs chose to carry the sparkling herself.
She makes a face, "Mechs don't like playing with dolls and things, though!"
He raises an optic ridge, "They don't? I am surprised you think that." He looks at the rest of the sparklings in the class, "Who of you will play with dolls if she told you to?"
He watches as all of the sparklings, and Streetwise, raise their servos reluctantly.
"See? All of them will. A little brother will be no different."
She glares at him, "I still want a little sister."
"Did your creators tell you if it was a mech or a femme?"
She stares at the ground. "They said he was a mech spark and he was going to be my brother, but I don't want him. I don't want a brother. I want a sister."
"You should be happy you have any siblings coming," Oil Slick counsels her. "Most sparklings don't get to have a sibling to play with."
She crosses her arms, "I don't wanta mech to play with. I have all sorts of mech to play with already."
Ah. That's the problem. "Do you want more femmes to talk to?"
She gives him a dirty look, then nods reluctantly, "Yes. There's only me and mama."
He raises an optic ridge at Streetwise, and the bot shrugs at him, unsure what to do. "Are there any other femmes in the school?" he asks, not really sure if there are. If there are, they could spend time with her, and that would get rid of her feeling of unease. Femmes like spending time with other femmes, just like mechs like spending time with mechs.
"Not this stellar cycle, though we are expecting to have another femme enrolled in the next stellar cycle, assuming her creators are still happy with our offer to educate her in our ways." Streetwise picks up a little mech sparkling and gives the bot a squeezing hug that has the minibot squirming and complaining loudly. It was important for the sparklings to get used to the tactile contact.
Oil Slick offers a claw to the femme, and she grabs on it. "Perhaps you could come and speak with my creators some sol. They are both femmes."
She climbs into his lap in that demandingly femme way, "I'd like that. Are they ninjabots?"
He shakes his head, "No, but if you asked them, I'm sure they'd let you use the obstacle course I used when I was training here." He'd offer it to all of the sparklings, but he has no wish for his creators to murder him. If they want to, they can offer on their own. He gets the impression they miss having sparklings around, and doing this would give them all the benefits, and take away the frustrating parts of raising.
"Thank you." She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. "I hope a nice femme bonds with you."
He just pats her back until she's ready to get off his lap and chase the other sparklings around the crystal garden. It's good to let them burn off some of their energy between classes. Oil Slick falls back into his meditation, trying to seek out the answers of who his spark had been.
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