Hello.

Some of you may remember us, or maybe you are aware of our return to the land of the living if you are also following our other joint fic.

In any case, we won't bore you with excuses. It's been very hard to find the time to post as lives have been so busy these past few months, but we are making a big effort for two big reasons.

One, the respect we owe to our readers, who have thoroughly supported our joint and solo fics, and who definitely deserve more frequent updates than the ones we provide.

And two, our big, purple love for Transformers fanfiction, one very delicious twist on the road that we walk after surrendering to a bunch of alien, fictional, and evil robots.

Chapter 34

Whiskey should be served in cubes

Skywarp put a seventh empty cube on top of the pile, making it collapse. Countless transparent pieces spread across the floor as they shattered, making the Seeker burst into laughter.

"You are ssso stupid," Starscream said awkwardly, leaning on another empty cube with an almost empty bottle of whiskey beside him. He had removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Says the little human who can't even stand up," Skywarp sneered.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, fuck you too, Screamer. What did you say that meant, by the way?"

Starscream smiled stupidly. "That… you could understand."

"Look at you, using all those human words. Your maker wouldn't recognize you, I tell you."

"Why don't you go and ffuck…"

"I think you've had enough of that human high grade, Starscream," Thundercracker said severely.

"What do you care? Why do you have to be ssso fuckin' stiff all the time, Thundercracker? I mean, look at that," Starscream said, pointing at Thundercracker's high grade cube, which had barely been touched. "A sparkling could take more high grade than you!"

"Oh, let him be, TC," Skywarp said, putting his hand on Thundercracker's shoulder. "Screamer is finally loosing himself, right Screamer?"

"Yeah…"

Skywarp filled his ninth cube and sat heavily on his chair, making the entire table – and Starscream – shake. "Y'a know, I think I've never seen you this wasted, Screamer, except that time in Kalis, remember?"

Starscream only laughed.

"What time in Kalis?" Thundercracker asked.

"When we first attacked the city, remember TC? You were on the front lines with the Coneheads, but Screamer and I remained in a trench for three cycles."

"Yeah, and we fucked," Starscream said, introducing more whiskey to his systems.

Thundercracker frowned at the mention of the human word again. "What did that mean, again?"

Skywarp laughed. "We 'faced! There was nothing else to do in that trench and I had brought my reserve of high grade, you know how it is."

"You and Starscream interfaced?" Thundercracker asked.

"Yup, but it was no big deal. Screamer was drunk and I was bored."

"Why, are you jealous TC?" Starscream asked maliciously.

Thundercracker shrugged his shoulders. "I don't do mechs."

"Your loss," Skywarp said, punching his wingmate's arm. "You will spend your life without the good stuff, I mean, how many female Transformers remain on line these days, like ten?" He turned toward Starscream, who was drinking from his bottle. "Screamer, on the other hand, is a lucky slagger. This fragging planet is populated by females! How many of them have you nailed with your little fleshie intimate circuitry?"

"It's not little," Starscream said instinctively.

"Compared with mine, it's tiny," Skywarp prided himself. "But spill it, Screamer. How many femmes have you fragged?"

"Just one," he said nonchalantly; Skywarp and Thundercracker had discovered a long time ago that the only way to extract the truth from Starscream was to get him drunk or angry. "Buuut many times, many, many times."

Skywarp shook his head and turned to Thundercracker, spilling some of his high grade in the process. "See what I mean, TC? Just a few weeks with the fleshies and he's already getting more than you. You really need to expand your horizons, ya know?"

"There is more to life than interfacing," Thundercraker grumbled, eyeing off his half-empty cube of high grade with contempt. There had always been certain subjects that had encouraged him to drink, and this was one of them.

"Ahhhhh, you only say that because you're not getting any. You know I'd frag you, right?"

"You'd frag a petro-rabbit if it looked at you the right way."

"Yeah, probably," Skywarp admitted as he proceeded to lap some of his spilt high grade from his hand and arm. "Well, if you're not interested in my generous offer, I guess there's only one acceptable solution then. TC, we're taking you to the Well of Transformation!"

The sound of Starscream snorting through a mouthful of whisky returned the attention of the two Seekers to their ex Commander. "No," he spat as he inspected the last dregs in the bottle. "TC may be a fucking asshole...and yeah, you are TC...but I wouldn't wish that fffffucking water on anyone."

Skywarp stood up abruptly, slamming his empty energon cube on the table. "W-what?! You're fragging this femme all the time and you say it's not worth it? Ff-frag you, Screamer! Either you're the greediest slagger in the universe, not wanting to share your femme with TC, or you're lying about how much you're getting. What, haven't you worked out how to use that disgusting flesh thing yet?"

"I know exactly how to use it," Starscream stated arrogantly. "Unlike yyyou, Skywarp. You've never known how to use your intimate circuits...and I know from experience."

The look on Skywarp's face cycled between shock, anger and confusion while his inebriated processor attempted to comprehend Starscream's statement. After a few moments, during which his human companion watched him with amusement, the purple Seeker dropped down into his chair again, a goofy grin colouring his features. "Ssssssooo... 'Facing a human femme?" He began, forgetting the insult to explore more important matters. "What's it like?"

Starscream drained the last of his whisky, wobbling terribly as he tossed aside the bottle with a sneer. He took a moment to regain his balance, leaning himself first on Skywarp's cube before settling on Thundercracker's thumb. "Wet," he finally concluded.

"Wet?" Tundercracker said, his lip curled in disgust.

"Anything else?" Skywarp asked, unsatisfied with the answer.

"Wwell, it's all a bit too messy for my liking, but..." Starscream swayed slightly and tightened his hold Thundercraker's thumb, "it's fun. Aaannd the slut I've got...she...she really knows how to take it."

The human smiled lopsidedly before falling backwards off his perch, his drunken laughter ringing out from between Thundercracker's giant fingers.

"Wow," Skywarp said in awe, moving closer to take a look at his fallen companion. "You really did it, didn't you, Screamer? You fragged a human female... Wow, I hate you sssooooooo much right now."

"So nothing...nothing's changed then?"

"Yeah, I'll always hate you Screamer."

With some careful cajoling from Thundercracker, Starscream slowly managed to pull himself up onto his feet, standing unsteadily on the table top. "Fuck," he said as he took hold of Thundercracker's finger again. "I don't want to go back there."

The trine fell silent.

Starscream came to an abrupt halt when his bike crashed against a boulder and sent him falling on his ass. It was fortunate that he had decided to stop riding; and for the last half hour all he had done was push his bike through the narrow natural corridor that lead to his quarters at the Ark. It was also fortunate that he had managed to arrive there in one piece, especially considering the fact that he didn't remember how the slag he had managed to ride after deciding to take a quick spin before surrendering to the confines of the Ark again. He was lucky not to have been spotted, arriving on foot at the Autobot's headquarters before leaving again on the bike; luckier still given the erratic way he had taken off.

Starscream laughed softly, feeling stupid. He, the Vosnian Prince of the Skies, barely able to walk… It was ridiculous, but funny somehow. There was no doubt that alcohol did things to his organic systems, things that illuminated the amusing side of situations that normally would have angered him.

He supported himself on the irregular wall and managed to stand up, leaning partially on his bike. He took a moment to breathe deeply and tried to orientate himself. Just in which direction were his fucking quarters? The narrow tunnels inside the volcano that sheltered the Ark were a wonderful way to get out of his provisional home without being spotted, but they did nothing to help his claustrophobia. He smiled; that was another thing whiskey was proving to be such a great medicine for. He had been pushing his bike through a cave for at least half an hour and claustrophobia had kept its distance. He would have to keep that in mind when he returned to his former body; getting over-energized was the perfect way to ignore enclosed spaces.

It took him another half hour to find the small tunnel he was looking for, during which he only stopped to empty his bladder of some the whiskey he had had, and to fall on his knees every time balance decided to be a glitch. Still, he kept his good mood. He was dizzy and was feeling utterly weak, but all in all, being over-energized protected him from his misery. That would have been a perfect moment for that whore Stella to suck him off…

He was still smirking at the idea when he finally pushed the door to his quarters open. He blinked at the excessive light. He remembered that he had turned the lights off, but then again, he wasn't certain about anything anymore. All he knew was that he needed to crash on his bed and sleep for a hundred vorns.

He made his way to the object of his desire, tripping on the metallic container in which he had stored some toiletries, and collapsed on the bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off. The mattress felt like heaven, receiving his form with a softness that was definitely not part of his routine but that he could definitely get used to. For a moment he was back on Kaon, at Madam Silverstream's Brothel, lying on a berth with half a dozen femmes taking care of him and his wildest fantasies… He could certainly use half a dozen Stellas as well. Would there be a way to clone the slagging human? That way, if one of them died, he would always have more to keep pleasing him. He had to remember to remove the vocalizer from the clones, though; the last thing he needed was to listen to her stupid small talk. The thought made him grin.

The sound of a small cough took him out of his cloning fantasy, and from the cycle of recharge that he was already savoring. Even within his dizziness, he had enough clarity of mind to realize that he wasn't alone.

Worry turned into relief when Carly heard footsteps behind the door of the emergency exit, but anger immediately followed. She checked her watch as the infamous absentee made his staggering entrance.

4:37 AM… She had been in Sean's room for more than two hours, as curious as she was angry about the whereabouts of that asshole who insisted on wandering between being a nice guy and a total jerk.

The scowl intended for him went unnoticed as he staggered towards the bed and collapsed face down on the pillow, completely oblivious to her presence. Only then Carly realized that he was completely drunk.

And not only that; his clothes were covered in dirt and partially torn. One leg of his jeans was cleanly ripped – probably as a result of falling from his bike – and exposed a red graze on the side of his thigh, his shirt had disappeared and only his open jacket covered his torso. One of his shoes was missing too.

Carly didn't even want to imagine where he had been and in what kind of company. She didn't stop to think why that thought annoyed her.

He finally noticed her when she coughed softly, yet firmly, and when he turned to stare at her all she received was a frown.

"You… what the slag… what are you doing here?" he said ill-humoredly. "Can't a mech have some privacy here?"

Carly frowned as well. He had to be even more wasted than she had imagined. "First, you are not a mech. And second, you have some nerve getting angry after what you've done. Where the heck were you?"

"I missed the part in which my fucking business became yours."

Silence was her only reply to his rude words. He seemed to notice as he ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I was having a ride, okay? Why? Do I need your permission because you gave me the fucking bike?"

Unconsciously, Carly formed a fist. "That's not the point… and don't you dare speak to me like that again, do you understand?!"

"As you command, leader," Sean said ironically, making the charade of a military salute. Carly found the gesture strangely familiar. "Can I have some privacy now? I really need to sleep."

"You are drunk," she said curtly.

"Your powers of observation amaze me. Yeah, I may be… so what?"

"So how dare you leave the base without telling anybody and return in such a state? You could've killed yourself riding a bike in that condition, you asshole!"

Carly didn't know why she was so angry. She had come looking for him with a very different motive, but imagining him in danger was really messing with her mind.

Sean raised his hands and looked at them. "Mm… but I didn't, right? As far as I can see, I'm still alive… in this same body."

Carly was so angry that she didn't pay attention to his last remark. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you will always be that lucky! Don't you realize how dangerous it is for you to leave the base right now? You have become a target for the Decepticons! Any of them can kill you with one single finger!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know about that, okay? You don't have to remind me," he said with a frown.

"Then you should be a little bit more reasonable and stop acting like a capricious child!"

He flamed her with a red-hot glare, but he ended up sinking his face into the pillow again. "Fine… I'll be more careful from now on. Happy now?"

"Not yet. We still need to talk about what happened today during the football game," she said, suddenly remembering why she had spent two hours waiting for the insufferable punk.

He groaned in protest. "Can't you wait until tomorrow?"

"Sean, I saw you."

"Mmh?"

"I saw you hitting Spike on purpose."

He opened one eye. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh please, don't try to take me for a fool. You hit him with all the intention of hurting him."

"Are you sure you're not the one who's drunk? You heard what your Autobot buddies said… It was an accident. That game is supposed to be rough, right?"

"Well, I didn't buy it."

"For frags sake, woman, what do you want me to do? Apologize to your pathetic boyfriend?"

"His name is Spike, and yes, that would be a good start."

She was sure that Sean was about to throw another rude remark at her, but he managed to calm himself. Perhaps he had admitted to himself he had made a mistake?

"O-kay… I'll do that tomorrow. Can I get some sleep now?"

Carly got up from the chair, deciding to let him be. There was more that she wanted to say to him, but it could wait. He looked really messed up; not only by his drunkenness but by something else that seemed to be troubling him.

"Are you okay?" She asked after a moment, putting aside the anger.

"I fucking told you," he replied, voice muffled by the pillow, "I need to sleep."

"That's not what I meant," Carly said with a huff. She moved cautiously to his bedside. "You've been through a lot these last couple of days, and the fact that you're now completely wasted tells me that you're not coping with it."

"Oh so you're a fragging psychiatrist now, are you?" Sean said wearily, rolling over to look at her darkly. "Listen, female, if you had any fucking idea just how much I've been through in this life, you'd realize that I'm coping exceptionally well."

Carly shook her head, tempted to walk away from the jerk. Their eyes met for a moment before she looked down, catching a glimpse of his well defined abs before finding the floor.

"If you say so," she finally relented, losing patience with his drunken attitude. "Just…just promise me that you'll take care of yourself, okay?"

When she dared to take a look at his eyes again, she found them closed. He had fallen asleep, despite the uncomfortable position of his body, his back partially leaning on the bed's headboard. But that was nothing surprising, considering he was completely wasted. She wondered why he had ended up in that state, and whether he had had company…

Carly frowned, opening the nearby draws and pulling out a sheet. What did she care if he had gotten that drunk alone or with somebody else? He had saved her life twice, and in a way she wanted to help him, as she seemed to be the only one who had read all that loneliness and desperation in his eyes. But from that to actually taking a personal interest in him…

She shook the sheet and let it unfold in front of her, her eyes fixed on his face. Sleep had softened his features somewhat, giving him a look of peace that seemed so foreign to his waking self.

Carly's gaze lowered, and she felt her cheeks blush as she watched his strong chest rise and fall with deep breaths. She couldn't help but wonder if sleep was a rare visitor to the man; if alcohol was a regular comfort in a life that seemed so mysterious to her.

She let out another sigh as she approached him slowly, gently laying the sheet over his prone form. "Sleep well, you jerk," she said softly, resisting the urge to run her hand comfortingly over his forehead.

To be continued.

So there it was, an update that hopefully will be followed by another one soon. We hope you'll enjoy and please share your comments with us.