Duty Calls
Terrorsaur was bored.
Well, not really bored in the strict sense of 'I have nothing to do.' He was bored as in he had just enough time to start something before his shift began, but not enough time to complete it. So he was reviewing the things he COULD do, opening programs and closing them again on the computer and counting down the time until his shift. Not enough time to actually patrol, but he'd gone through the base's entertainment programs twice already today. Now he was just mindlessly clicking through them and wishing he had more or less time, either to get out of the base or have duties he could lose himself in.
That's about when he realized that his main source of amusement was missing. It was strange that he hadn't noticed it before, actually. The more he thought about it the less he liked the idea. Waspinator hadn't just left; he'd snuck off. Therefore, he hadn't WANTED to be noticed. And therefore--
"Slag."
Suddenly, he wasn't bored anymore. Waspinator was off getting into trouble, and it was up to Terrorsaur to drag him out of it by his wings. Technically it wasn't really in his job description, but his excuse was that it was easier to hide Waspinator from Megatron's wrath than deal with the mess afterward. Besides, it was better than staring at the computer screen.
The pterodactyl stood up and stretched out the kinks, musing on where he should start the search this time. He could gamble that Waspinator hadn't sneaked away long ago and was still digging out a secret stash of sugar somewhere in the base. That could be a dead end and lead to Waspinator buzzing around like a drunken bumblebee somewhere outside until Megatron noticed he was missing and sent out someone to swat him. Or Terrorsaur could go check some of the local flower patches he knew the wasp was magnetically attracted to. After what the hyperactive little menace had done to the Predacon tyrant's throne last time, he didn't think even Waspinator was silly enough to stick around the base on one of his sugar-binges again. Getting punched through a couple walls tended to knock sense into the dumbest of 'bots.
He rubbed his head ruefully. Yeah...
Of course, chasing down Waspinator would probably end up taking more time than a regular patrol would. Megatron would pitch a fit if he found out that Terrorsaur had gone after the errant wasp, but Terrorsaur also knew that he'd end up feeling guilty when the tyrant went after Waspinator himself. Somewhere along the line--and slag if he knew when--he'd grown to like the immature moron. But blast it all if he'd admit it!
Which meant that he'd just have to disguise retrieving his friend as what he did best: slacking off. Who needed monitor duty, anyway? He'd just do the responsible thing and cheerfully send Scorpinok a note informing him of the unofficial day off. After he was already a few miles from the base, that is.
An evil grin split his face as he headed toward the nearest base exit.
.
During war, soldiers seeks all kinds of highs. Waspinator likes flower-derived sugars. Terrorsaur likes annoying Scorpinok. It seems to work for them.