Title: Retelling
Rating: K+
Continuity: G1?
Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, Ironhide, Optimus Prime
Disclaimer: Prompt: 1.
Task: Take a short fic you wrote and have one of the characters in that story having to tell that story to someone else. Who do they tell? How does that story go over? (For example, I wrote a little Whirl and Skids for last week—how would skids report this little adventure to, say, Ultra Magnus? How might whirl tell it to Swerve or Rung, etc).
Notes: Got two fics out of this one. And the credit for writing a "sequel" to this story goes to kkcliffy and Wildwhisker. They both requested it when I asked for help, so... here it is! And I also managed to clock out two stories for this one, though they sorta go together. Sorta.
"Oh, Primus, that was awesome," the red mech snickered as he sat heavily at the table.
The gray mech already sitting there stifled a squeak of surprise as the heavy frame landed. Then did so again, as another frame, identical in size, shape, and alt mode, though not in color or kibble.
"It was rather amusing," a deep voice rumbled from the yellow frame.
"What was?" Bluestreak blurt out, unable to control himself. "Because whatever it is, I'm sure I'll hear it sooner or later, I mean, you know how gossip runs through the army, I think, or maybe you don't, because I haven't seen you before, and I've seen everyone on base, at least, I think I have. But anyways, gossip always goes fast, here, so-"
"Primus, do you always talk that much?" the yellow mech growled lowly, and Bluestreak silenced himself with a yip.
Then, when he received two questioning glances, he started up again.
"Yeah, I guess I do, I mean, my name is Bluestreak – I'm Bluestreak, by the way – so it kinda makes sense, but everyone always tells me to shut up, but I don't like being quiet, because – well, I just don't. I do talk a lot, though, everyone says so, and I know it's annoying, but I start and I just can't-"
A black hand was slapped gently across gray lips. "Shh," the red mech hummed with a grin. "You said you wanted to hear what we were talking about. If you wanna hear it, you've gotta be quiet."
Bluestreak nodded, wide blue optics gazing earnestly into the red mech's.
"Alright, then. My name's Sideswipe, by the way. And that's my better half, Sunstreaker."
"If I'm your better half-"
"I know, I know, the world is doomed, Sunshine. I meant to say 'prettier half'. Anyways, that's Sunstreaker."
"You guys are bondmates? Because there aren't really many bondmates left, you know, I mean. There are a few people who a lot of people think are bonded, and then there are Optimus Prime and Elita One, and Ironhide and Chromia, and I think Ratchet and Wheeljack, and maybe-"
The black hand once again landed on his lips, stopping the tide of words, and Sideswipe smiled. "No, not bondmates. At least not in the ordinary sense. We're twins. Yes, yes, split-sparked twins. Get over your surprise now. We're used to it, so you'd better get used to it, too."
"Yes, sir!" the gray Praxian squeaked.
"No 'sir'," Sunstreaker ordered. "We're frontliners, not officers. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are fine."
"I... Okay," the gunner managed, rather cowed.
"Good. Now, Sideswipe. You were going to tell a story."
"Oh, right! Well, see, Ironhide missed Prowl's notice, telling him that we don't need the fighting evaluation. We were gladiators, before – shh, don't interrupt. Yes, gladiators. Some of the best – and we know how to fight, but, like I said, Ironhide didn't get Prowl's message." Sideswipe chuckled, smirking.
"So, anyways, we get in there, and the old rust-heap orders us on the mat, together, at the same time (how rusted is he, anyways?)-"
"You forgot the part where he had us spar."
"Oh, right!" Sideswipe exclaimed, "He had us spar, first, which is fun, but we sorta know what the other's gonna do before he does it, so it doesn't... well, anyways. Then he gets up on the mat and orders us to come at him. And this is where I start not believing the... 'legends' about him, because we do like he says, and we knock him down in one hit!"
Bluestreak's optics widened almost comically. "You... you knocked Ironhide down? Are you sure it was Ironhide, because he doesn't get knocked down, like, ever, and if you really did do that, that would be, like-"
"Yeah. We know. But we did it," Sunstreaker said, barely smirking.
"How?"
"Well, we did say we were gladiators, remember?"
"Yeah, but Ironhide is, like, well, he's like, never been beaten! He's the Prime's bodyguard, so-"
Sideswipe shook his helm, and Bluestreak cut himself off.
The Twins smirked to each other. "Well, that isn't all we've done. We got a Seeker out of the sky, once, in a match."
"What?"
"Yup. Jumped on his wings and brought him down... It was a long time ago, but I still remember it like it happened last orn..."
And in a dark corner of the Rec Room, a black and white doorwing'd shadow glared out at the two mechs chatting up his creation.
. . .oOo.
Ironhide sat down heavily, hydraulics hissing loudly, gears creaking rather ominously.
"Ironhide, is something wrong?" Optimus asked from behind his desk, where he was reading a datapad.
"Nah, I'm fine. Just my pride that's dented."
"Pride? What has happened?"
Ironhide vented heavily. "Well... Y'know how I was going through the new recruits t'day?"
"Yes?"
"Well... I shoulda payed more attention to my messages... 'Cause we had two gladiators in t'day."
"Ah, yes, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker."
Engine rumbling, Ironhide glared at his Prime. "Yeah, well, they're better than I thought they would be."
"They survived in the Kaonian Gladiator Pits, Ironhide. They are very good," Optimus said, his smile visible in the way his optics crinkled at the edges.
"Yeah, but I didn't know about that."
"Mm. Do you wish to tell me what happened?"
"Might as well. You won't leave me alone until I do. And don't you dare try to deny it. I know you, Prime. Ugh. Well, I told 'em to go up and spar with each other, and they did, and I could tell that they were pretty good. So then I got up to fight them, and..."
"What happened, Old Friend?"
The red mech mumbled something under the sound of his ex-vents, and, amused, the Prime leaned forward, pushing a few datapads aside.
"Ironhide?"
"They took me out, okay? In one move!" the mech exploded, standing up, swinging his arms over his helm, pacing back and forth. "Me! They just jumped, and I was on the ground!"
"Then we should be glad that they have decided to join with us, rather than the Decepticons, no?"
"I... Arrhhh, Prime..."
"Yes, Ironhide?"
"Stop making me feel guilty. I don't deserve it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ironhide."
"Yeah, right."
"What was that?"
"Nothin', nothin'..."