Feminine Troubles Chapter 2 Adjustment

Bumblebee was being stalked.

Either that, or Ironhide was, but she thought it was her. After all, no one would be crazy enough to stalk the weapons specialist, except perhaps Blitzwing? There were no jets in the sky, so it definitely wasn't him.

But who would want to follow the yellow minibot? She was nothing special, her biggest talent being her ability to get along with almost anyone.

Bumblebee was paired with Ironhide for a routine patrol, and not doing anything interesting or secretive. There was absolutely no reason for anyone to want to follow her around. Perhaps it was some kind of prank?

Ironhide hadn't resigned herself to being a femme yet. She grumbled about the loss of mass, the affront to her mechly dignity, and the bizarre feeling of having a pair of deep interfacing ports instead of a spike and a shallow port. The former mech's impressive curves made it impossible to overlook the changes, even a little. She was, as Mr. Witwicky put it, "built like a brick shithouse." The colorful description did not make a whole lot of sense to Bee, but everyone got the general idea. Will had offered the word "statuesque" as a more acceptable substitute.

Bumblebee also suspected that Ironhide was worried about what Chromia would think. She had liked the tough-as-nails blue femme the few times they had met, and pretty much assumed that the femmes on Cybertron interfaced with each other just as much as the mechs on Earth had always done. She knew that their organic friends had all sorts of hang-ups about their version of interfacing, but Autobots had always been really casual about the whole thing.

Friends got together regularly. After all, any of them could be slagged tomorrow, and it wasn't like they could pass organic-style diseases to one another like humans did. It was a good way to de-stress, and it helped to reaffirm the group's loyalty to each other. Right now, most of the Autobots were still so freaked out by it all that they were taking a bit of a break from interfacing with each other (There were a few notable exceptions. Bee had been meaning to pay a visit to Ratchet for what she was calling "femme orientation").

Bumblebee had been sparked shortly after the war began, and hardly knew any femmes. So far, her adult experience with femme anatomy consisted of a little quick self-exploration and some fooling around with Cliffjumper. She really needed to find some uninterrupted private time soon.

In the meantime, she planned to stick close to Ironhide and her cannons. Nothing like a large, annoyed femme with an itchy trigger finger and massive firepower to make someone feel secure. The feeling of being watched was creepy. Ironhide made a great security blanket, though.

Frenzy ducked back behind the trunk of an over sized conifer. "Pit, I thought she saw us."

His twin growled at him over their heavily encrypted com. "Well, if you would stop being so distracted by the shiny that you're even clumsier than usual, she wouldn't. I for one don't much want to have that cannon-lugging whack job up my tailpipe 'cause we're following the little yellow cutie."

"Why are we following her, anyway? She's an Autodork, we're Decepticons, 'an never the twain shall frag."

"Yeah, well half of the twain used to be a really annoying mech, not a sweet little golden femme with the cutest horns I ever seen." Rumble grinned lasciviously. "Best scenery change ever."

"Think it'll last?"

"Sure. The Matrix did it, accordin' to Shockwave's info. Th' Prime went to the ruins of the Temple of Primus and asked for a way to restore Cyberton. It did that."

"Wish we coulda seen his face"

"Ha! Her face, you mean. 'Course, ole Megsy's face when he saw was funny enough. Never thought the Slag-maker would loose it like that over a pretty femme."

"Can't really blame him. I mean, have you seen what Prime looks like now?"

There was a dreamy sigh from Rumble. "Yeah…that's prime…"

The command trine were being watched. Thundercracker had detected sonar pings a while back, and later the gleam of a mech's armor through the trees. When he and his trinemates had swooped down for a look, it was gone.

But who would want to watch them? All they were doing was ordinary aerial maneuvers.

Admittedly, they were all fine figures of seekerhood, and who wouldn't want to watch them fly? But they weren't doing anything interesting. There was no reason anyone in the Autobot army would have them under surveillance, and he couldn't think why the Decepticons would bother.

"So, what to you think, Sunny?"

"Three on one. Bad odds if we wanted a fight."

"But that's not what we're after here."

"They don't know that. And I'm not quite sure how we're supposed to do this either. I mean, do we just go up to one of the birdies and say, 'nice wings, wanna frag?'"

"Hey, that's a good idea!"

Sunstreaker turned to stare at her twin. "You really think that pick-up line would work?"

"Slag, no! I mean the part where we get one of 'em alone. That way if things go bad, we only have one Decepticreep to deal with. Then we grab him so he can't shoot at us or fly away until after we ask if he wants to frag."

"What if he says no?"

"We'll just have to be persuasive, Sunny. Besides, you know what they say about seekers. And if I do say so, we make damn fine femmes. If he says no, we just let him go and never, ever speak of it again."

"Yeah, I guess" said Sunstreaker. She pouted a bit at the thought of being turned down by one of the pretty seekers.

"So which one do we want? Not Screamer, too screechy. And Skywarp can just teleport away, so Thundercracker? He's pretty hot, and has that whole gentlemanly thing going." The golden twin licked her lips, a wicked smile gracing her lips. " I can hardly wait."

Sideswipe grinned. "Me neither, sis. And besides, if we bag one of the birdies, we can probably grab his trinemates later on, once they get that we just want to, y'know, indulge in recreational activities instead of slagging their 'Con afts. "

Skyfire was going to have to do something drastic if Starscream didn't stop shadowing her. It was becoming annoying, not to mention frustrating.

After all, she was a flier. She had needs!

And so did her ex. And if the stupid flying glitchmouse would stop playing coy, both of them could take care of those needs. It wasn't like it would be the first time. So her hardware was now different and they were on opposing sides of a war. So what? They were fliers, there were here, and Megatron couldn't possibly be better at pleasing a seeker than Skyfire was.

Seriously, what was Scree's problem?

Oh, wait, did he think he was laying an ambush? How sweet! Lets see, should she let him catch her, or turn the tables? Hmmm, decisions decisions…

Skyfire spotted a handy mesa that was sufficiently far from any humans, and descended for a landing. Diving past some handy geologic features that would fox Scree's sensors, she found a suitably picturesque spot and concealed herself as best she could behind an outcropping.

Naturally, the bright-hued seeker followed.

She let him pass her, then pounced. "Hey baby, come here ofte-whoah!"

The smaller jet grabbed her, and swung her past him in one smooth motion, dumping her onto the ground. Then, he pounced gleefully on her white, winged form. A certain amount of tickling and thrashing later, she was gasping as he eased his spike into her hot, wet port.

Starscream bent one of Skyfire's legs up to her chest, as he knelt between her spread thighs. The other curled around him. Distractedly, she noticed that she was much more flexible in her new configuration. Once, she wouldn't have been able to even get in this position. They were also a lot closer in size now than they used to be. The Change had made her noticeably less massive.

"Why Scree," she murmured in between frantic nipping kisses, "did you miss me?"

"Primus" Starcream grated, his face buried against her plating. "You smell wonderful. Why couldn't you have joined the Decepticons so we could live in the same base? We could do this so much more often."

"Because the Decepticon ranks are filled with insane, violent mechs?"

"Well, true as that may be, it would still make interfacing a lot more convenient." Starscream rasped.

Skyfire snorted through her vents. "You say that like you don't have a couple of trine mates to take care of. I'm stuck with a bunch of grounders who aren't sure they trust me, and have no idea how to pleasure a mech with wings. Plus, none of them have spikes of their own any more. I'm the frustrated one here."

Starscream undulated his abdominal components, rubbing his interfacing unit against the inside of his lover's main port. "You don't seem frustrated now, Sky." He teased.

"Well, no. But I wouldn't say no to another spike or two. I haven't tried out having both my ports simultaneously filled yet. Mind if I borrow your trine next time you can't tear yourself away from your lord to meet me?"

The seeker chuckled. "Fickle thing. You always were insatiable."

The white shuttle gave him a disbelieving look. "This coming from you? Really, Scree. I was on the Decepticon base for a while, and I distinctly recall that you have not only Warp and TC as regular lovers, but Megatron as well."

Starscream looked almost sad for a moment. "Not the same, Sky." He said. "Not the same at all."

Astrotrain had plans, and his prey wasn't going to like them one bit.

He totally did not get why Megatron wasn't hunting down the Autobots and slapping them in chains. It was the only thing that made any sense. Now that they were weak little femmes, the Decepticons could take over, make the Autodorks into slaves, and subjugate the squishies.

The strongest Decepticon warriors could fight over the captured enemies, and of course Blitzwing would win as many Autobot femmes as he wanted. After all, he was one of the strongest fighters in the group. The commanders would claim some of them, but they'd probably go for the officers, anyway.

Astrotrain didn't much care what femme (or femmes) it was. He just wanted a berth-warmer and toy. He imagined armor crumpling under his servos as he crushed an Autobot to his berth, her screams echoing in his audios as he took his pleasure.

Perhaps the belligerent little red one, or the talkative grey gunner. That young Autobot would be entertaining to break.

The triple-changer gave in to the urge to laugh, the evil, hollow echo of his amusement rang through the room.

Author's Note: Thank you to Merrypaws for telling me how to get FF to give me line breaks! It ate them when I posted the first chapter the first time, and I didn't realize there was a formatting tool in preview.