A/N: To address all concerns re. Soundwave doing something stupid; I can only state that men in lust (and women, for that matter) are not inclined to think with their brains...

Disclaimer: I own Nightraider, Dreadnought and lil' Crossfire. All else to do with Transformers is the property of Hasbro and TomyTakara.

Warning: I'll err on the side of caution and label this chapter as M-rated for smut and implied smut. Probably very badly written smut, but I've tried, dammit. For anyone who doesn't like this, it's called a back button. Use it and I won't think any less of you.

Italics denotes telepathy/thoughts

Presents: Part 7

Envy pulsed through the Communication officer's spark as he stared at the cluster of jets making their way back towards the firing range from their patrol.

Nightraider was sandwiched between Skywarp and Ramjet, all howling with laughter while they jostled for position behind Starscream. Behind them, Dirge and Thrust were trading barbs, their equally sour natures having been temporarily submerged after their ride in the skies.

The purple F-15 punched the femme jet on the shoulder. 'C'mon 'Raider, we're not gonna tease ya! Much!'

'Oh yeah, and there's the reason why I'll never tell you anything ever.' Nightraider flicked her wing against her comrade's flank.

Dirge glanced up from his current action of keeping Thrust in a headlock. 'OK, so you're telling us you never thought about it? Not even a little?'

Ramjet smirked and looped an arm across the femme's shoulders. 'You know you can tell us. It's got to be lonely up there on Cybertron, especially with all the good-looking mechs down here, so you're saying you've never looked at him and thought about seeing what's underneath all that laser plating, maybe tweaking a connector wire here and there and finding out what logic makes of interfacing?'

Nightraider shot the handsome white jet a derisive look as she ducked out from under his arm. 'No, but it sounds like you've given more than a little thought to it.'

She wiggled her eyebrows a few times and tried unsuccessfully to hold back a grin. 'Wouldn't've picked you for a gun-grinder, 'Jet.'

The other jets sniggered and smirked widely. Sensing a new victim had just been thrown into the fray, Thrust choked on a laugh and managed to yank his head free of Dirge's grip. 'So that's what turns yer crank, 'Jet? Gonna see if ol' Shocky might squeal for ya?'

'Oh, sit on it and swivel.' The white Conehead sneered and huffily shut his optics, switching them on again as he nearly collided with Starscream's back.

Dirge snorted. 'Nah. Think we'll leave that t' you and yer purple lover-mech.'

Ramjet sensed his out and grabbed it. 'Purple lover-mech? I do hate to break Skywarp's spark so publically, but he's not really my type.'

The other jets whistled and howled at the comeback. Skywarp mock-sighed and shrugged.

'Meh, fair play to 'im, not everyone can handle the Warp.'

Nightraider smirked. 'Yeah. Or what there is to handle, from what I've heard from the femmes 'round Polyhex-'

'Seekers: attention required.'

All conversation was halted abruptly as Soundwave neatly stepped out of the shadows to stand in the path of the Seekers.

Starscream, as was his wont, immediately took the action as a challenge. He strode forward to meet the Communication officer's gaze while Skywarp and the Coneheads instinctively clustered around Nightraider, who expressed her disinclination towards the sudden protective attitude with two well-placed kicks to Skywarp's and Ramjet's legs.

'What can you possibly have to say that requires the attention of my troops?'

'Information: temporary addition to Seeker ranks.'

The red and silver F-15's optics narrowed. 'What 'temporary addition'?'

Soundwave risked a glance towards the flock of jets, and looked back at the Air Commander. 'Addition: Femme CMO Nightraider. Space bridge: undergoing emergency repairs. Thundercracker: still incapacitated. Nightraider's presence: required until all repairs reach completion.'

'And why was I not asked my thoughts about this?'

The tape-deck 'Con thought quickly. What exactly did the humans refer to this next action as?

Ah yes.

Shit-stirring.

Rather crude, but extremely accurate.

'Reassignment of troops: authorization required between Megatron and Shockwave alone. Your input: not required.'

And exactly as he had predicted, Starscream's mental processes went from zero to enraged in a sparkbeat.

'He dares to undermine MY authority over my own troops? We'll see about this right now, and he will rue the day he ever crossed paths with me!'

The Air Commander stomped off in the direction of the bridge. 'By the end of this day, I, Starscream, will be avenged for this insult and be supreme leader of the Decepticons!'

Nightraider squirmed out of the group of sniggering jets and cupped her hands around her mouth as she yelled after him. 'No, you will attempt to overthrow Megatron, fail, cry, then repeat the cycle!' (1)

Dirge snorted through his vents. 'Two to one says Screamer gets his aft handed to him.'

Ramjet quirked an eyebrow upwards. 'Only two to one? Have we suddenly departed from the absolute certainty that space is cold, the stars are hot and our illustrious Air Commander can't make it through an orn without a failed leadership challenge?'

'Whatever, 'Jet. Anyway...' Skywarp rubbed his hands together, and then made a gesture down the now deserted corridor.

'Femmes and gentlemechs; do we wish to proceed to and take over the firing range, then use the Stunticons as target practice?'

A chorus of cheers greeted his words as the cluster of jets began to clatter down the hallway.

'Halt.'

The clattering stopped almost instantly as three sets of scarlet optics and two sets of amber optics turned on the Communications officer.

Soundwave didn't even flinch under the combined stares.

'Visit to weapons upgrade ward: required for CMO Nightraider. Terran weapons: to be replaced with null-ray upgrade.'

Nightraider brightened up considerably at this. 'Nice. So I finally get some laser weapons to play with.'

'Y'know 'Raider, you can always play with MY-'

'Thrust, exactly how demeaning would you find it to enter the Matrix with a scalpel jammed through your head?'

The red and black mech jet only just managed to offline his vocaliser before the words made their merry way from his CPU to his mouth.

Nightraider patted his cheek in mock affection. 'Good mech.'

The Communications officer chose to ignore the multitude of wolf-whistles and various technologically impossible suggestions offered by the cluster of jets as they piled off towards the firing range.

This was mostly due to a heroic effort both to keep his spark firmly within his chassis, and not to succumb to a rather enjoyable fantasy to which he had now dedicated a hefty portion of his CPU. Elements of said fantasy involved the femme jet standing beside him, his speaker system, bungee cords, and the nearest available berth. And a large amount of sound-proofing.

Nightraider admittedly wasn't much better off, but she had had over eight million years to practice holding back her desires. Said desires pushed her just enough to shoot a small smile in Soundwave's direction.

'I seem to recall a mention of null-rays being fitted. Care to show me where weapons upgrade is?'

Soundwave nodded. He gestured towards a smaller medical bay further along the corridor and began to walk. 'Upgrade ward: first left.'

The upgrade ward was a few floors up from the main repair bay. Initially it had started out as a general weapons and armour storage area, but after the spacebridge had been built and more recruits had arrived from Cybertron, the sheer mass of armour alone had filled the room completely within a day. Weapons storage was now next to the repair bay, while armour storage was next to the training rooms for obvious reasons. The Constructicons, always eager to keep as many troops out of the repair bay as possible, had refitted the old storage room into a small operating theatre, used as an overflow ward during medical emergencies, but mainly to fit any necessary weapons upgrades, most of which could be done without medical intervention.

Nightraider idly swung her legs back and forth as she perched at the foot of the repair berth, waiting for the Communications officer to return with the promised null-rays. Behind her cockpit, her spark was busy doing the metaphysical equivalent of the can-can at the thought of being in the bay with Soundwave.

Alone.

No interruptions.

His hands on her frame, fitting the upgrades, and maybe lingering there just a little longer than planned...

Her fellow Seekers could tease her all they wanted about her attraction to the stoic navy mech, and dear Primus, they had exceeded her expectations, but it wasn't going to change how her spark felt. She couldn't recall mentioning anything about said attraction, but she hadn't exactly gone out of her way to deny any feelings. Combine this with the Nemesis's gossip mill being fuelled at the speed of Skywarp and...yeah.

Starscream had, true to form, gone off like a form of louder, bitchier atomic bomb as soon as he had heard the rumours. This had led into an equally loud and bitchy monologue, during which the red and silver jet had claimed Nightraider was demeaning the Seekers as a whole by daring to even consider interfacing with a glorified groundpounder, and Megatron's psychic lackey at that.

The response from the femme jet had involved the loud and somewhat obscene questioning of Starscream's parentage, and the fervent request for him to cram his opinion up his boron compressor.

A normal orn by all accounts.

Then again, it was a well-known fact that the two jets annoyed the hell out of each other 99 percent of the time. As for the other one percent...

She censored her thoughts as Soundwave appeared in the doorway, a pair of custom-fitted null-rays in his hands.

'Time needed to perform upgrade: 15 minutes.'

Watching as the navy mech set the null-rays on a surgical trolley and started to excise the necessary wiring, Nightraider frowned slightly at the unfamiliar measurement. '15 minutes means...what, in plain Cybertronian?'

Soundwave glanced at her, his fingers testing the power lines in the weapons. 'One breem: approximately eight point three minutes.'

He made a gesture indicating Nightraider should turn to the side. 'Access to upper limb wiring: required.'

The femme jet, long used to performing upgrades and maintenance, quickly complied and turned to the right. Rotating both arms at the joints, she overrode the safety combinations on the two access panels long enough for Soundwave to take a manual drill to the gun mountings and prise the cannons away from her arms.

Nightraider tried not to shiver at the navy mech's touch as he bent over her right arm and started welding the newly exposed wires to the null-ray circuits. While his face from his current position was unreadable, he was treating her with the same kind of delicacy he reserved only for the Cassettes.

Not that she was complaining exactly, but that touch and his proximity was making it insanely difficult for her to ignore the little voice in her CPU telling her to slag protocol and just jump him now for the love of Primus.

A similar conflict was boiling within Soundwave's CPU as he meticulously checked the refitted wiring and sealed up the plating on Nightraider's right arm. His spark was now all but screaming within his chassis, reaching out desperately for its mate and being separated by only a few layers of hyper-reinforced steel and magnetic casing.

He managed to stop his hands from shaking as he picked up the second null-ray and checked over the wiring before fixing it to the femme jet's left arm.

The darkening of his visor was fortunately marred by the glow of the arc welder as he came across a roughened edge on the base of the null-ray. Concentration was required in order to correct the flaw, and so for a few seconds, he was able to put the F-14's proximity out of his thoughts.

The arc welder rattled for a moment after Soundwave set it on the trolley. He stood back enough for Nightraider to twist into a more comfortable position, and watched with satisfaction as she rolled her arms in their sockets.

'Fitting: adequate?'

The red and black jet shot him a quick smile, shuttering one optic as she tested her targeting systems. 'More than adequate.'

Her smile grew a little wider when she brought her right arm up and activated her target lock. It fixed almost instantly on Soundwave's chest, directly aiming at his spark chamber.

'Got you in my sights.'

Soundwave squeezed his hands into fists and started reciting a small mantra courtesy of his clearly deranged CPU.

Hold in admiration, not fornication. Hold in admiration, not fornication. Hold in admiration, not fornication...

The mantra stuttered to a halt and finally keeled over when Nightraider brought her other arm up, her fingers barely an inch away from his face-mask, and shot him a look which could only be politely described as 'aroused'.

'Soundwave...'

He barely heard her whispering his name over the sudden roar of her turbines, but it was enough.

Frag it.

The Communications officer lunged forward and pinned the femme jet to the berth, his optics taking on an almost ravenous gleam under his visor as he bent down and leaned his forehead against Nightraider's helm. Her turbines stuttered, and for a second he wondered if he was about to receive a fist to the face-mask.

The thought died a happy death as the femme jet brought her hands up to his face, slim black fingers tracing every corner, every ridge and scar with a delicacy that belied their true strength. She began to pant, her lips parting and optics narrowing slightly as they met his darkening gaze.

'...Wings...'

Soundwave smirked under his face-mask. She was direct, and he was grateful for it.

Now close enough to hear and feel her gasp, he raked his fingers across her right wing and felt lust race through his circuits at the sound of her strangled cry of pleasure.

He kept his optics fixed on hers while his right hand repeated the raking gesture on the other wing, his fingers tracing over the Decepticon insignia and ghosting over the fixings between the panels, his smirk growing wider at each mewl and sigh the red and black jet let out. The hand teasing the F-14's wing settled on her hip, while his other hand rested underneath her fuselage, caressing the base of her neck.

Nightraider, although in a state of highly stimulated shock, wasn't slow in responding to his actions. She looped her arms around Soundwave's neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her interface unit against his and digging her fingers into his back. A low moan slipped out, enough to cause the mech above her to tighten his grip and hold her head level with his, his fingers now ghosting over the cables in her neck and carefully tweaking some of the more sensitive ones.

Including the one that for some reason, always caused her spinal relays to spasm and the subsequent waves of sensory feedback to travel straight down to her interface unit.

This didn't go unnoticed by the navy mech. Sliding his hand across her hips, he managed to locate the minute latch for her pelvic plating and slid it back. Dark fingers proceeded to delve repeatedly into exquisitely sensitive circuitry, deliberately brushing against overheating wires and soldering until they found her interface port, one finger tracing the now scorching lip and teasing the small bundle of feedback circuits just inside the port with every pass.

The femme jet gave up any remote shred of dignity she was still clinging to and arched helplessly against the navy mech, burying her face against his neck and trying desperately to move her hips just enough for those ruthlessly talented fingers to twitch and slip into her port, anything just to make the teasing last a little longer, to add to the overload that was steadily building up across her sensory circuits...

A small -shhk- dragged her attention away from the rapidly growing heat between their bodies. Confused, she managed to focus on Soundwave's face and felt insanely grateful that she was mostly horizontal. The sight of the Communications officer minus his ever-present face-mask had an alarming ability to make the pistons in her legs turn to the consistency of engine lubricant. Full lips were curled in a smirk of pleasure, the darkness of his visor providing a stunning contrast to chiselled white face-plates and nasal plate, all relatively unscathed despite the millennia of civil and planetary warfare.

The smirk widened into a predatory smile.

'...Do you...wish this?'

Soundwave's visor was now crimson, his formerly rational mind now completely submerged in equal parts lust and desperation. Leaning over her, he brushed his thumb against her cheek plate and felt the rush of heat from her turbines wash over his chest. A growl of pleasure that even Ravage would be proud of was building steadily in his vocaliser.

Nightraider was already trembling, fingers digging into her partner's shoulders hard enough to dent the metal.

'Nngh...Soundwave...'

His fingers deliberately stroked the little bundle of circuits just once, drawing a tormented yelp from the femme jet.

'My name...is...hardly an answer...'

All Nightraider could do was wordlessly nod, not trusting her vocaliser not to glitch out. At that moment, she didn't think she was capable of anything as coherent as a noise, let along speech.

Her thoughts were proved wrong barely a second later as Soundwave brought his head down to her neck, his dental plates biting down on the over-sensitised wiring, and moved his hand just enough so that when she howled and arched her body against his, his fingers finally slipped into her port.

And curled.

The femme jet crashed backwards onto the berth, grabbing onto the edge of the mattress with both hands and keening in ecstasy at the sensation of his fingers inside her. Her hips began to move, thrusting against the fingers as they stroked and probed the most sensitive parts of her fuselage with breathtaking speed.

Soundwave's own arousal was reaching what he had always thought to be a completely unapproachable level. Just listening to her cry out, and the feel of her legs tightening around his hips was doing things to his interface unit that few others, if anyone at all, had managed in over nine million years.

He leaned over Nightraider's trembling form and increased the speed of his caresses, his spark now soaring at the vision before him. Just a little more sensory play, just a little more pleasure for his femme before he claimed her...

Dark fingers twisted the sensory nodes within her port, making the femme curl her frame around his arm, one of her smaller hands clamping his larger hand to her pelvis. She managed to open her optics and stared up in hazy lust at the mech above her, his face-mask retracted, his mouth open and panting with arousal.

Close enough to...

She managed to pull Soundwave's head down to meet hers, and paused for a moment, feeling his intakes cycle air against her face, before she tilted her chin up and caught his lips in a sparkfelt kiss.

And at that precise moment, reality came crashing back into Soundwave's CPU with all the kindness and mercy of Motormaster after a three day bender.

She was kissing him.

She was holding him and moving with him, urging him towards a mutual overload, the like of which he hadn't experienced for a considerably long time.

She was one of the finest medical officers in the Deception army. She offered both Megatron and Shockwave her loyalty and expertise, and received theirs in kind. She had been Megatron's personal physician for a number of vorns before the Constructicons had been converted, and they still held a great mutual respect for each other because of it.

She was an expert on symbiotic sparks, and the one being whom he trusted with his spark who wasn't part of his family unit.

She was his equal.

And he was within a sparkbeat of taking her on a battered repair berth in a small, cramped back-up medical bay.

...What am I doing?

Soundwave tensed up almost immediately, his visor brightening from crimson to orange as he pulled out of the kiss, and away from Nightraider.

What am I doing?

'Soundwave, what in the Pit...?'

The red and black jet sat up, almost spitting in anger at the lead-up to one of the best overloads of her life disappearing in the space of an astrosecond.

'What the frag are you doing, why did you stop?'

The Communications officer took a few steps back, his face-mask snapping into place with what seemed to Nightraider to be a horrible finality.

'I...I cannot...'

Rationality departed for a quick smoke as the femme jet's temper took over. She managed to slide her interface unit shut, though not without a certain amount of pain, and stood up on trembling legs. ''Cannot' what? Leave me hanging like this? Because, Primus, you've got that right!'

Soundwave straightened his back and turned away from her, falling into his natural monotone. 'Incorrect assumption: cannot treat act with such disrespect.'

Her voice rose in increasing fury. 'It's hardly disrespect if I want it as much as you!'

'Explanation: complex.'

He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He could hear the hurt and rage in her voice every time she spoke, and it twisted around his spark like razor-wire.

'I-is it me? Have I done something?'

Particularly now.

'No: cannot treat you, cannot treat act, with such disrespect.'

Nightraider blinked back the tears of anger that blurred her vision. 'Soundwave...'

She reached out a hand towards his shoulder. He carefully stepped out of her reach and walked towards the doorway, only risking a glance back as he left the upgrade ward.

'My apologies.'

All Nightraider could do was stand helplessly in the middle of the ward, staring at the doorway, her CPU screaming at her that her interface unit was still dangerously overheated, and anger and pain trying to fight for an equal place in her spark.

Punching something until it begged for mercy, or curling up in her quarters and howling her optics out in rage and pain?

Both sounded pretty damn good at that moment; so much that she didn't even hear Skywarp's teleportation warp until the purple jet stuck his head round the doorway, the paint on his wings smoking slightly, and wearing a grin so wide it looked like someone had taken an axe to his face.

'Hey 'Raider, what's the w-'

Skywarp cut himself off as he took in the femme jet's face. '...'Raider?'

Rare concern flashed in his optics when he saw how much she was shaking. One lone tear managed to fight its way down her cheek.

'Whoa whoa whoa, what happened?' He moved to hug her, hissing and pulling away in shock when his hips came into contact with hers.

Shaky femme, obviously upset, interfacing unit hotter than Death Valley in June, scratch marks over the wings and hips...

The purple jet's optics narrowed. 'Did Soundwave do somethin'? 'Cos, seriously, just say the word, and I'll string 'im up like a piñata!'

Nightraider just shook her head and gripped her friend's arm. 'Just...just get me back to the Seekers' wing.'

'But 'Raider-'

'NOW.'

'Stupid glitching son of a snowblower. I had every right to be involved in this ridiculous decision, but no, I'm only the Air Commander and I only hold the principal command over the entire air force of the Decepticon army, so why should I get my turn to speak?'

Starscream's rant was audible almost three halls away as he stomped towards the Seekers' wing of the Nemesis.

Or stomping in his mind, at least. Currently he was limping along, nursing a cracked cheek-plate and favouring his left leg. His right hand covered a painful antimatter burn on his left wing, and his left hand was busy trying to pick a long strand of gold tinsel out of his spinal relays and failing miserably.

To say the latest coup d'état had not gone according to plan was something of an understatement.

If he was being honest with himself, Starscream hadn't exactly had the high ground when he had burst onto the command deck and proceeded to shriek his complaints to Megatron at a frequency only audible to dogs.

Once the Decepticon leader had offlined his audials out of a desire to avoid the repair bay, he finally chose to reveal his previously unknown talents at lip-reading.

The diatribe had quickly advanced to an argument so large it had three acts and a subplot. The outcome of this saw the red and silver jet onlining on the floor and purging his tanks like a sparkling after the Decepticon leader had demonstrated a rather vicious piledriver on him and pitched him headfirst into the long-suffering Christmas tree on the command deck.

Glitch.

The Air Commander winced at the bolt of pain which seared through his wing and glanced down at the wound. The gash was still oozing energon, the edges burnt and blackened after receiving a direct hit from his leader's fusion cannon.

Somehow, he had the feeling this wasn't about to heal without some sort of medical intervention.

And he didn't feel particularly in the mood for sitting through the Constructicons' ideas of local anaesthesia and surgery. So that left...

Oh joy.

At least the femme would be earning her energon tonight. Stubborn and smart-mouthed glitch that she was, he wasn't about to belittle her medical skills.

His mood lifting slightly, he staggered through the entry to the Seekers' wing and glanced around for the telltale flash of red highlights on black paint that might, if bribed, just stop snarking at him long enough to repair his injuries.

Dirge was sprawled over one of the benches, throwing electro-darts into the Autobot symbol festooning the dart board. Ramjet was resting his leg against the table, completely absorbed in polishing his armour to a gleaming finish, and Thrust was slumped in front of the TV, sniggering at a South Park repeat.

All normal, and yet no mouthy femme jet appeared in his sights. Hardly unusual.

But the sight of Skywarp exiting Nightraider's quarters at high speed with a look on his faceplates combining concern, exasperation and blind terror, was enough to make him stop and raise an eye-ridge.

The purple F-15 spotted his trinemate, relief flooding into his optics.

'Word t'the wise, Screamer. Unless you want a dose of pissy femme who didn't get some, stay outta there. Seriously.'

Starscream rolled his optics. 'Given a choice between the hexad from hell in the med-bay, or a permanently fragged-off femme, I'll take the one that's easier on the optics.'

'You might wanna rethink that if you go in there. And don't say I didn't warn ya.'

The red and silver jet snorted and slapped his palm against the access panel. 'Oh please. How bad could it be this ti-?'

'Get the frag out of my quarters before I turn your head into a waste disposal!'

Ah.

Starscream exhaled, removed a couple of emergency high grade cubes from his subspace, and decided to face the medic's wrath.

Nightraider refused to turn around as Starscream entered the room and perched at the foot of her berth. At the moment, she wasn't particularly inclined to give a frag about anyone or anything as long as she was left alone with her pain.

'What part of 'get the frag out' did you not understand?'

The red and silver jet idly turned one cube of high-grade over in his hand and snorted. 'Hmmm. Possibly it fits with the part where I refuse to listen to whatever you say, unless it's about what precisely crawled up your thrusters and died.'

He nudged the cube in her direction and sat back with his own cube. For a few moments, there was absolute silence in the room as Nightraider stared down at her feet and Starscream sipped his high-grade. He could wait; though the pain in his wing was starting to become more than just a little agonizing.

The Air Commander had been prepared for drama, for pissiness, for a no-holds-barred bitching session the likes of which only he could rival.

What he hadn't expected was the femme jet to slowly turn to face him, optical fluid spilling down her face and dripping onto the tiny scratches covering her fuselage.

Starscream tried to keep his optics from widening without much success.

'Talk to me, femme. Now.'

Wonderful.

Just utterly slagging wonderful.

Just to make today absolutely the worst of his entire existence...

During the altercation with Nightraider, he had completely forgotten to shield his thoughts and emotions from the Cassettes; none of whom had any desire to be experiencing feedback from their creator getting horizontal.

Particularly in Ratbat's case since the little bat still hadn't been informed as to what interfacing involved.

And right now, standing in the doorway to the side-ward, he had six identical pairs of extremely livid optics boring into his frame.

Soundwave shut his optics, pinched the bridge of his nose, and groaned.

Rumble and Frenzy started up a slow, mocking handclap; their optics filled with rare scorn. The blue Cassette opted to start the first assault.

'Nice goin', boss. What happened to 'all I want for Christmas is 'Raider' and all that?'

His twin launched his own offensive, leaning into Frenzy's side and glaring pointedly.

'I gotta say it Soundwave, way to get some, except, y'know, the part where you DIDN'T.'

Laserbeak turned away in annoyance. Leaving her hanging like that? Hardly the actions of a gentle-mech. And what was that excuse about 'not disrespecting' her or the act supposed to mean?

Yes, please do kindly furnish us with an explanation. One that might actually stop our little brother's CPU from crashing.

Ravage cuddled closer to Ratbat, whose faceplates had moved from disgust to anger at his creator's actions, then straight back to disgust.

The little bat's nose was wrinkled up in utter revulsion as he stared up at Soundwave. You wanted to do THAT with Nightraider? You liked all that icky stuff?

'That...is not the issue.'

Frenzy snorted. 'Yeah, except when it IS.'

'Frenzy, silence.'

Rumble turned to his youngest brother and flashed a quick smirk in his direction. 'Trust me Squeaky, when you get your adult upgrade, you will wanna do th' 'icky stuff', ooooooh, pretty much all th' time.'

The purple and yellow Cassette screwed up his face and stuck his tongue out in complete revulsion. Eeeewww.

Ravage was not to be diverted however. He fixed his creator with a glare of cynicism and growled low in his vocaliser.

You still have yet to explain why you did not, ah...complete your intended actions.

The Communications officer let out a rare sigh and sat down on the hard metal chair next to Ravage's berth, letting his head droop forward. 'It is...complicated.'

Laserbeak sniffed. That's all we're going to get at the moment, isn't it?

'I cannot explain it for now, but...I will tell you. I owe you all that much.'

The red condor's gaze softened imperceptibly. And what of Nightraider? Will you explain it to her?

Soundwave raised his head, his optics weary. 'If she will let me. She was...displeased when our activities ended without resolution.'

Buzzsaw, who had remained mostly silent, finally spoke up. Your activities, maybe. Her activities are another matter entirely.

A number of perplexed glances were directed at the golden condor. He ruffled his wings, settled down next to his sister, and tilted his head slightly as he met Soundwave's gaze.

You left her alone, fragged off, hurting, and more than a little...riled up. She's a flier. She's a social being. Believe me, the Seekers are gonna find out about this, and when they do, yes, they'll be annoyed, but what exactly do you think Starscream's going to do with an angry, horny femme?

'...Then Skywarp found me, and I just got him to bring me back here, and...you know the rest.'

The tears had stopped as quickly as they had started once Nightraider had gotten a decent look at Starscream's injuries. Her bruised ego had been thankfully put aside while she knelt next to the Air Commander and proceeded to fix his assorted injuries.

The haze of high-grade was also helping matters along quite nicely, providing just enough of an influence to let the F-14 repeat a more censored version of what had happened.

Starscream raised an optic ridge at his fellow flier's account. 'That was it? A willing, available femme who wants him to overload with her in every way imaginable, and he just leaves?'

He let out a derisive laugh. 'Consider yourself lucky. He probably wouldn't know what to do with you if he had followed through.'

'Oh, and you would?'

Nightraider glared at him and deliberately jabbed her arc welder into his fractured cheek-plate. The F-15 yelped in pain and tried to bat the implement away from his face.

'Watch where you're putting that thing!'

'Zip your flaps then.'

She squinted and returned to her repair job, holding Starscream's head steady while she carefully welded up the tiny fractures criss-crossing over his cheek-plate. He watched her with one optic shut, a smirk slowly crawling across his face as his gaze followed the shape of her kneeling frame and the way she held her lower body away from the berth.

He was willing to bet that thanks to Soundwave's actions, she wasn't just hot, but sparking by now.

One blue hand settled against the femme jet's hip, fingers tracing over the edge of her still-scorching interface unit.

'...I don't seem to recall you complaining about what I did with you the last time we were like this. Or any of the other times...'

Nightraider glanced down at the touch, and then gave the Air Commander a Look. 'That's completely different.'

'Different how?' He was starting to enjoy this...

'Different in that most of the time, I'm not entertaining fantasies of hacking out Soundwave's vocaliser with an ice pick.'

Starscream's smirk morphed into a smile so filthy that it would have needed a few hundred gallons of industrial solvent to get it even vaguely clean. 'Kinky glitch.'

The hand resting on her hip slid round to the small of her back and began to massage the sensors at the base of her wings.

Nightraider dropped her arc welder and instinctively leaned forward, biting her lip as Starscream pulled her across his body and rearranged her limbs so that she was straddling his lap, her arms around his neck, her face inches away from his and his optics dark as he studied her face.

The smile softened ever so slightly as he pulled her closer, his handsome face alight with lust. 'He's a fool. A fool not to claim you as his, and a fool who doesn't know what he's missing every time you overload.'

His voice became a low purr against her lips. 'Let me finish what the telepath started.'

No, no, no, no, NO, bad Nightraider, bad Nightraider; he's just taking advantage of you while you're sparking and yes, he's a gorgeous evil bastard and he knows it and oh Pri-MUS he's doing that thing to your wings that you LOVE and holy slag get a GRIP, you're only doing this because you're hurt and Screamer's saying all the right things and he's only being nice to you so he can get laid and hack off Soundwave all in one go, no, no, no, n-ooooooooooh frag yes, right fragging THERE and don't you even THINK of moving...

As the Air Commander pinned her on her back and ran his hands over her wings, Nightraider gave up on rationalising her actions.

The best thing to do would be to worry about it in the morning.

Or at least after she had worked out some of her frustration on Starscream's interface unit...

TBC

(1) Courtesy of Starscream's profile on the Transformers wiki, Teletraan-1. So unbelievably appropriate.