After the heart breakingness of Crossfire, I figured TFP fans needed a little pick me up, so I took it upon myself to finish up an old fic and get it posted. It's not much, but hopefull you'll all get a little kick out of this, as I had a good time writing it (even though I was half asleep half the time.) And yes, I'm aware that this has striking similarities to another fic I wrote...
The SAFE room, the personal training quarters of Autobots stationed at Autobot Outpost Omega One, was impressive to say the least. The vast chamber, previously an underground hanger for massive aircraft, had been converted into a state of the art indoor training field. A vast array of turrets, climbing walls, targeting fields and the like, each capable of collaborating to form an infinite number of tests and challenges, allowed for each Autobot to sharpen their individual skills at every level. One could set up a specific time goal to work on speed, power up every turret and sharpen their defensive skills, or just set up the targets for some stress relief.
At the moment, Arcee was going for a combination of all of these.
With an acrobatic leap, she cleared a pulsing turret, firing a shot at it mid jump to shut off the barrage. Her well aimed hit (set at stun, as blowing up the equipment was not the goal of the exercise) collided with the small target at the top of the turret, shutting off the gun. Landing with ease, the femme was allowed no time to enjoy the skillful maneuver, as two smaller, more accurate mini-guns immediately caught her energy signature. Evading the shots with an unpredictable zig-zag of movements, she quickly moved in, unsheathing her wrist blades to slice the barrels off the twin guns. A little unnecessary destruction, but not too much.
Faced with a continued barrage from each side, Arcee transformed, taking advantage of the tremendous speed her alt mode offered to avoid the onslaught. There was a small pinch of pain on her right side as one of the practice rounds made contact, and she quickly berated herself for the slip up. Had this been real, the shot would have done far worse than scratch her paint job. Putting it behind her, she pushed herself faster, screeching around a corner and into the final leg of her selected course.
Here comes the hard part... she reminded herself, optical sensors focused on the missile launching turret coming up on her right. The hulking weapon droned to life as it detected her, sliding on it's base to follow her movements and line up a shot. Pushing herself to her limit, the femme braced herself for evasive maneuvers, waiting until she heard the "thunk" of the projectiles launch to move. Cutting a hard left, she felt the heat of the explosion as the missile smashed to the ground at her side, blackening the already stained concrete and leaving a noticeable crater amongst dozens of others from previous training sessions. She repeated the move for the remaining three missiles, waiting until the last moment to preform each sharp turn of avoidance.
The femme crossed the white line at the end of the course, swirling to a stop and transforming back to her bipedal form in a single, fluid movement. Looking over at the large, digital watch just above the viewing window on the far side of the room, she couldn't help but let out a small exclamation of satisfaction. Two minutes, fifty eight seconds, eight seconds better than her previous best and a new course record. Only two months had passed since she had come to the base on earth and already she was seeing benefits. Perhaps being part of a team wasn't so bad after all...
"Well well, pretty impressive for a femme..."
Except, of course, for that.
"Considering my time's better than any of yours, what does that say about you?" Arcee retorted, turning to face her recently acquired partner. Cliffjumper, who had obviously been enjoying the show, leaned casually against the wall beside the finish line.
"You're just all about speed." the mech explained, stepping toward her. "Me? I'm a powerhouse." With obvious pride, the mech flexed his powerful servos, drawing an optic roll from the femme.
"Strength doesn't do you any good if you're too slow to get in a hit." she snapped right back, keeping her voice neutral in the face of the teasing mech.
"And that hit doesn't do you any good unless you're strong enough to make it count." he replied with ease, having since become accustomed to the femmes habit if never giving in to an argument.
"You seem pretty sure of that..." was all she could say as they at last stood pede to pede, suddenly feeling like their conversation was actually heading somewhere.
"It keeps me from making mistakes like that." he pointed to the small ding in her paint job from the unlucky hit, located on the lower left of her chest plate.
"Optics up." she snapped, slapping his hand away, though he only smirked playfully in response. "It's just a little nick in my paint job anyway, not nearly as bad as some of the scraps you've gotten us into. Speed is far more important than strength in combat."
"Really? How about putting that little theory to the test?" he challenged, looking down at the femme. "You, me, the sparring ring. No rules, just strength versus speed. What do you say, partner?" She cocked her helm as she stared the mech down, putting her servos on her hips as she responded slowly and deliberately.
"If you think you can handle it, I'm game." Arcee returned his challenging smirk, though there was nothing playful about the determination in her optics. If this partnership of theirs was going to last, she needed to teach him that she was not just another air helmed little femme who would swoon at his beck and call. She intended to beat him, badly.
"Hope you're ready to dance, Arcee. I don't plan on holding back..."
His servos held up and close in a defensive position, Cliff added emphasis to his words with two punches to the air. Keeping her own stance more professional, the femme simply rolled her neck cables, holding her servos close and her keeping her footing light.
"Likewise, Cliff. Likewise..." She responded, voice even save for the faintest of grins tugging at her faceplate. He wasn't the first mech to underestimate her, and odds were he wouldn't be the last.
"Ladies first..." He teased, beckoning her forward.
"Whatever you say." She agreed, lurching forward and delivering a pre-calculated blow to his chin. It was a quick, clean uppercut, and though her momentum was not nearly enough to stagger a mech like himself, Cliff was still surprised by the power of the blow, which had produced a few sparks on impact. Ducking away before he could retaliate, she kept herself at a calculated distance, letting the mech recover.
"Nice hit..." He complimented, sounding almost sincere, rolling his neck cables and taking a more defensive stance. "You trained in hand to hand?"
"I've taken a few lessons..." She responded, going in to deliver another quick jab. Anticipating the move, Cliff skillfully deflected it with one servo, striking out with the other. "Looks like-" she ducked under the impending blow, getting in a quick jab as she did so. "-you've had some training as well." Stepping back to avoid any further blows, he responded with a smirk.
"I've picked up a few things over the years. Though I didn't have any of the formal academy training you did." He began to circle in an attempt to find an opening in her defense, and she quickly did the same.
"How'd you know I went to the academy?" She asked, ducking smoothly to the side as he moved in and threw a quick right swing. "I never told you-" She bobbed and weaved as he threw two more punches, taking advantage of her smaller size to avoid them. "-or anyone else here."
"You didn't ne-hrg!" He stopped as she managed to get in a good blow to the side of his faceplate, but he took advantage of the moment to deliver his first connecting punch, hitting the femme square in the shoulder blade and staggering her. "I saw it on your service record back on Cybertron, when I helped rescue you from the Cons." Recovering from the previous blow, Arcee moved in for a more powerful blow, getting through the mechs defense and glancing the side of his faceplate. Cliff retaliated, but only managed to deliver a glancing blow as she blocked with her forearm.
"I see..." She responded, taking a few breaths to cool her heating inner components. "I never-" she dodged another hit, getting in a quick jab to his well armored side. "-got to thank you for that."
"I don't think I deserve much thanks." He said casually, taking a step back to roll his neck cables. She paused to give her shoulders a quick flex, feeling the stress of the workout beginning to take it's toll. He was better than she'd expected, she gave him that.
"Really? Why?" She questioned, going back in with renewed vigor to deliver several quick punches to his faceplate. Growing accustomed to her style, he managed to block half of the blows, though his face received several new dings in the process. "After all... I'm the hurg!" With a well timed left, Cliff had managed to catch the femme in the side, giving her a good sized dent of her own. Moving back a step to regain herself, the femme finished her sentence with a bit of a wheeze. "The one who... managed to get caught... And lose a partner..."
"If I had been faster... You wouldn't... Have lost him..." Cliff responded, panting to cool his own insides as the stress pushed his components to the limit. Not holding back, he threw a few more powerful punches at the femme, and though she dodged each one, he could see the fatigue was getting to her as well. Soon his own lack of speed wouldn't matter. This was just as obvious to Arcee, as she began making the most of each punch, aiming each punch for maximum efficiency.
"Can't... Blame yourself..." She assured, sidestepping so they began to circle each other once more. He chuckled at that, responding with teasing sincerity.
"You're... Hardly the bot... To criticize for unnecessary blame." Arcee stopped dead in her tracks at that, giving Cliff a steady look.
"What... Are you implying?" She launched forward with another blow, catching the mech off guard and giving him a new dent on his blocking servo.
"Just that... Hah!" He blocked another hit from the femme, retaliating with a screeching glance to her shoulder that scratched her paint and sent sparks flying. "You seem... To blame yourself... For his death, even when... Hurg! You couldn't... Have done anything..." Gritting her dentals, the femme gave several quick blows in time with her response.
"And what, hah! Gave you, that impression, nyah!" Cliff simply held up his powerful servos to block the barrage, though the newfound strength in the femmes blows was far from underwhelming.
"You... Started taking a lot more risks afterwards... Almost like... You didn't care whether... You lived or died..." He struck out again, but she dodged with ease, finding a new speed as he continued to slow. "Like with... The space bridge... It seemed... Like you didn't care..." The femme was on the attack now, striking out with fury and precision, but the mech kept going.
"It's like- Ah! You wanted to be with him again..."
That one little sentence snapped something within the femme, and she let out a roar of fury. Charging forward with freakish strength, she bent low, lifting the mech clear off the ground and sending him over her back to crash on the ground with an earth rattling boom. Cliffjumper let out a gasp of pain as the world flipped and he collided with the concrete, feeling it crack beneath his weight as he allowed himself to lie there and process what had just happened. Squeezing his optics open, he found himself staring upward at Arcee, who looked down at him with a livid fury in her optics, chest heaving from the exertion of her physics defying maneuver. But, in a sparkbeat, all if that fury dimmed, and he saw her pedes tremble from exhuastion. Ignoring his pain, Cliff hauled himself to his pedes, steadying the femme before she could lose her balance.
"You're right..." She whispered, allowing herself to be supported in a rare admission of defeat. "I didn't care... I wanted to be with him again..." Cliff found himself at a loss for words, though the femme continued and left him with no need. "I lost a purpose, I lost myself..." Lifting her helm, she gave him a weak smile, optics brightening. "Then I found you..."
"Me?" He questioned, battered faceplate going blank. "But I'm..."
"You're what I needed..." She finished, shifting her smile to more of a smirk. "Guess my standards have really dropped, huh?"
"Hey, if it let's me in, I'm all for it." Cliff responded, glad to see the return of her usual snark. The pain such a simple action as smiling gave him brought back his rather beaten current state, and he changed the subject. "How about some energon and a quick buff? You certainly gave my poor husk a beating..." She chuckled, but winced at the pain it brought her, smiling through the discomfort.
"You nailed me good a couple of times too, but I'd definitely say I won..."
"Yeah sure, speed won a round but just you wait, all I need is a good recharge, some energon..." He stopped as a spasm from yet another injury gave a painful protest. "And maybe a trip to the med bay..."
In spite of the pain from her own injuries, the femme laughed along with him, feeling a lightness in her spark that she hadn't felt in eons.
If you can tell me where I got the inspiration for this scene, you get an internet cookie. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed!
Also, for those less genre savvy, the SAFE room is something that so far has only appeared in the comics, but I found it so tempting I had to work it into a fic.