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ante_luceTitle: ((*sulks* on the plus side, I may have an option brewing))
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Sideswipe. Mirage. Datsuns.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Comm. to Smokescreen completed, Bluestreak turned his attention back to the mech he was currently pinning. “I’m waiting for that explanation, Sides. What are your intentions towards Prowl?”
“I’m sorry!”
“Apology appreciated, but still not an explanation.”
Sideswipe flailed, searching for an answer, his processors coming up with an oh-so-helpful nothing. “Look, I don’t know, okay? I didn’t mean to say Prowl’s name. One moment our SIC’s the same as he’s always been, the next I want to take him against the nearest wall! And I don’t want to shove him up against a wall. It’s… He’s Prowl!”
The grey mech’s glare didn’t fade, though he did remove his hand from the Lamborghini’s neck. Sideswipe sat up, optics confused, arms hesitantly moving to encircle Bluestreak, wanting to appease the Datsun still astride him but afraid of aggravating the other mech further.
“Please, Bluestreak. The only mech I want is you, you have to believe me. I’m here, aren’t I? What’s going on with Prowl?”
The gunner sighed, shuttering his optics briefly before removing himself from the frontliner’s lap. “You know Prowl’s my brother, Sides. Frag, the whole Ark knows that Prowl’s my brother. But he’s also my youngest brother. He’s just come of age, and now we’re going to have to deal with it.”
He turned to see the red mech still seated on the berth, face so hilariously gob smacked the Datsun had to smile before heading for the door to let himself out.
“And I’ll just leave that to sink in, won’t I? Good night, Sideswipe.”
= = =
Off in Mirage’s quarters, another Datsun was staring moodily into his high grade. The spy was leaning against the table, a cube of his own in hand, watching him.
“It’s not going to work if you don’t drink it, Smokescreen.”
The chevroned mech snorted at the Ligier’s smirk, and lifted the glowing liquid to his mouth, slowly sipping the fuel. He paused and looked at the cube, blinking.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said the ‘good stuff’.”
“It’s not good practice for a spy to lie to his factionmates, Smokey. Makes them… twitchy.” Mirage drawled, smiling as he moved over to his berth, sitting next to the diversionary mech. Smokescreen chuckled, and sipped again.
“Anyone giving you trouble? I could do something about it.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine in that regard. But I do have an issue you can help me with.”
“Hm?”
“I’m curious, why did you let Prowl upgrade so young?”
The blue Datsun vented air slowly, then put aside his cube. “It wasn’t an easy decision. Frag that, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and that’s counting the whole damn war. But near the start of it all, our creator led a division known for being rather effective in quelling Decepticon uprisings. He wasn’t popular with the quell-ees, and they made sure he knew it. As his family, we took precautions, but…”
Smokescreen paused briefly, staring at his hands. “One cycle, Prowl didn’t come back from the education centre. I tapped every contact I had and came up empty, Bluestreak drove himself to near shutdown, then found our little brother slowly limping his way home, keeping to the shadows, a blaster in one hand.” He smiled mirthlessly at his friend.
“Guess you could say Prowl’s fought ‘Cons for longer than me or Bluestreak have.”
“Primus, Smokescreen.” The tactician reached for his cube at the spy’s dismayed interjection, took a swallow of high grade, then continued.
“We didn’t let him out of our sight after that. Finally, Prowl brought up the topic on his own. We argued. We said he wasn’t ready for the upgrade. He said the ‘Cons had just proven he was a high value target, and he needed to be able to defend himself on even footing. Even then he was all about logic. Do you have any idea how odd it feels to be out-reasoned by a youngling? He managed to convince the bots who examined him that it was the best course as well. And their faces… I should have gotten an image capture.”
“But… what about the emotional effects?”
“Yeah, we tried that tack. Didn’t work, and I ended up waking mid-recharge each cycle before he upgraded, shaking at the thought that Prowl wouldn’t be… Prowl, any longer. S’why I took up psychology. My little brother transferred to an adult frame too early because I wasn’t able to keep him safe as a youngling. I was determined to keep his mind as intact as I could.”
The diversionary mech silently contemplated his almost empty cube. “I apologise. I didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s the high grade, it makes me maudlin.”
“I did ask, but perhaps you shouldn’t have any more. And since you aren’t anywhere near cratered enough to achieve your original purpose in visiting my quarters, I suppose I ought to help you with that too.”
“And how do you propose to do that without high grade?”
Mirage smirked at Smokescreen’s raised optic ridge, and kissed the tactician, pulling the Datsun down onto his berth (and onto him) in one smooth motion. “I was thinking I’d do this.”
Smokescreen stalled, then grinned. “… Oh. Okay then.”
= = =
Bluestreak wandered the corridors, reluctant to head back to quarters he knew would be empty. Smokescreen had told him Jazz had taken care of Sunstreaker, and the Autobot TIC had left with Prowl. Then he’d commed again to say he’d be spending the rest of the night with Mirage.
Finally, the gunner couldn’t put it off any longer, and keyed open his door, stopping in the entryway when he saw a black and white Datsun on Prowl’s berth, reading a datapad. “Prowl?”
“Evening, Bluestreak. I thought you’d be with Sideswipe.” The SIC’s look was concerned, and the gunner shrugged, smiling to reassure his sibling.
“Didn’t feel like staying tonight. But why are you here? And aren’t you off duty now?”
Prowl smiled as well, turning back to what looked most vexingly like work to Bluestreak. “I don’t want to rush things. Tonight was just to get Jazz’s attention. And there’s this report I thought I’d look over for Prime- Blue’!”
His brother had sighed and deftly relieved him of the file, then tugged the black and white tactician over to his recharge berth, shaking his head in exasperation.
“Y’know, we put you in an adult frame so you’d be safer, and what do you do? Join the army and become the slagging Second in Command. Primus. Was it our fault? Mine and Smokey’s stories about being in the Autobots and all the things we used to show you behind our creator’s back?”
The mech chuckled as he was nudged into sitting next to the gunner. “I was always going to sign up. The attack only reinforced my convictions.”
Bluestreak wilted. “I should have been there to wait for you. We knew it was dangerous.”
“You were there. You and Smokey.” Prowl rubbed his brother’s arm soothingly. “You taught me how to shoot and fight. Smokescreen’s stories about tactics taught me how to out think an opponent. My captor was not expecting a youngling to be able to do either, and thus I got away when I might not have otherwise.”
The gunner’s response to this was to pull the tactician closer with an aggravated sound before toppling them both onto the berth. Prowl’s lip plates quirked with amusement at his sudden entrapment, and from somewhere above him, Bluestreak muttered, sounding aggrieved. “I know you’re smirking at me. This is the only way Smokescreen or I are ever going to win an argument with you. So hush and recharge already.”
A quiet snicker, and he felt his sibling settle down in acquiescence. “Yes, Blue’.”
= = =
Back in the rec room, Sunstreaker stilled when his brother’s shock filtered through to him. Already feeling irritable, he jabbed back and was rewarded with a babbling explanation. Blinking in surprise, he stared at the door where Prowl and Jazz had left some time ago.
“Huh. Explains a lot.”
“What explains a lot?”
The yellow Lamborghini glared at Tracks, who’d been grinning at him all night ever since he’d backed down against a certain black and white Ops mech. “Prowl’s just come of age. Explains why I was trying to hit on him just now.”
The Corvette sat up straight, then turned a considering look at the door as well. Sunstreaker frowned at the mech’s expression. “Watch yourself, Tracks. You saw Jazz.”
“Mmm. And I also heard you tell him our SIC’s a free mech. Jazz can’t force him to stay if he doesn’t want to. Can’t help it if I’m handsome enough to tempt Prowl, can I?”
The frontliner growled warningly, and the blue mech shrugged, folding his arms challengingly at the frontliner. “If he’s just reached that age, then he’s likely to have been completely untried ‘til now. Prowl’s going to be curious. Talk about opportunities.”
“Well, talk about them to someone else.” The Lamborghini snapped, rising abruptly and stalking out of the rec room. Behind him, Tracks grinned, and started to plot.
A/N: Potential ill effects of a too early upgrade were inspired by Vejiraziel's fic - 'Sparkless'.
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Sideswipe. Mirage. Datsuns.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Comm. to Smokescreen completed, Bluestreak turned his attention back to the mech he was currently pinning. “I’m waiting for that explanation, Sides. What are your intentions towards Prowl?”
“I’m sorry!”
“Apology appreciated, but still not an explanation.”
Sideswipe flailed, searching for an answer, his processors coming up with an oh-so-helpful nothing. “Look, I don’t know, okay? I didn’t mean to say Prowl’s name. One moment our SIC’s the same as he’s always been, the next I want to take him against the nearest wall! And I don’t want to shove him up against a wall. It’s… He’s Prowl!”
The grey mech’s glare didn’t fade, though he did remove his hand from the Lamborghini’s neck. Sideswipe sat up, optics confused, arms hesitantly moving to encircle Bluestreak, wanting to appease the Datsun still astride him but afraid of aggravating the other mech further.
“Please, Bluestreak. The only mech I want is you, you have to believe me. I’m here, aren’t I? What’s going on with Prowl?”
The gunner sighed, shuttering his optics briefly before removing himself from the frontliner’s lap. “You know Prowl’s my brother, Sides. Frag, the whole Ark knows that Prowl’s my brother. But he’s also my youngest brother. He’s just come of age, and now we’re going to have to deal with it.”
He turned to see the red mech still seated on the berth, face so hilariously gob smacked the Datsun had to smile before heading for the door to let himself out.
“And I’ll just leave that to sink in, won’t I? Good night, Sideswipe.”
= = =
Off in Mirage’s quarters, another Datsun was staring moodily into his high grade. The spy was leaning against the table, a cube of his own in hand, watching him.
“It’s not going to work if you don’t drink it, Smokescreen.”
The chevroned mech snorted at the Ligier’s smirk, and lifted the glowing liquid to his mouth, slowly sipping the fuel. He paused and looked at the cube, blinking.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding when you said the ‘good stuff’.”
“It’s not good practice for a spy to lie to his factionmates, Smokey. Makes them… twitchy.” Mirage drawled, smiling as he moved over to his berth, sitting next to the diversionary mech. Smokescreen chuckled, and sipped again.
“Anyone giving you trouble? I could do something about it.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine in that regard. But I do have an issue you can help me with.”
“Hm?”
“I’m curious, why did you let Prowl upgrade so young?”
The blue Datsun vented air slowly, then put aside his cube. “It wasn’t an easy decision. Frag that, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and that’s counting the whole damn war. But near the start of it all, our creator led a division known for being rather effective in quelling Decepticon uprisings. He wasn’t popular with the quell-ees, and they made sure he knew it. As his family, we took precautions, but…”
Smokescreen paused briefly, staring at his hands. “One cycle, Prowl didn’t come back from the education centre. I tapped every contact I had and came up empty, Bluestreak drove himself to near shutdown, then found our little brother slowly limping his way home, keeping to the shadows, a blaster in one hand.” He smiled mirthlessly at his friend.
“Guess you could say Prowl’s fought ‘Cons for longer than me or Bluestreak have.”
“Primus, Smokescreen.” The tactician reached for his cube at the spy’s dismayed interjection, took a swallow of high grade, then continued.
“We didn’t let him out of our sight after that. Finally, Prowl brought up the topic on his own. We argued. We said he wasn’t ready for the upgrade. He said the ‘Cons had just proven he was a high value target, and he needed to be able to defend himself on even footing. Even then he was all about logic. Do you have any idea how odd it feels to be out-reasoned by a youngling? He managed to convince the bots who examined him that it was the best course as well. And their faces… I should have gotten an image capture.”
“But… what about the emotional effects?”
“Yeah, we tried that tack. Didn’t work, and I ended up waking mid-recharge each cycle before he upgraded, shaking at the thought that Prowl wouldn’t be… Prowl, any longer. S’why I took up psychology. My little brother transferred to an adult frame too early because I wasn’t able to keep him safe as a youngling. I was determined to keep his mind as intact as I could.”
The diversionary mech silently contemplated his almost empty cube. “I apologise. I didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s the high grade, it makes me maudlin.”
“I did ask, but perhaps you shouldn’t have any more. And since you aren’t anywhere near cratered enough to achieve your original purpose in visiting my quarters, I suppose I ought to help you with that too.”
“And how do you propose to do that without high grade?”
Mirage smirked at Smokescreen’s raised optic ridge, and kissed the tactician, pulling the Datsun down onto his berth (and onto him) in one smooth motion. “I was thinking I’d do this.”
Smokescreen stalled, then grinned. “… Oh. Okay then.”
= = =
Bluestreak wandered the corridors, reluctant to head back to quarters he knew would be empty. Smokescreen had told him Jazz had taken care of Sunstreaker, and the Autobot TIC had left with Prowl. Then he’d commed again to say he’d be spending the rest of the night with Mirage.
Finally, the gunner couldn’t put it off any longer, and keyed open his door, stopping in the entryway when he saw a black and white Datsun on Prowl’s berth, reading a datapad. “Prowl?”
“Evening, Bluestreak. I thought you’d be with Sideswipe.” The SIC’s look was concerned, and the gunner shrugged, smiling to reassure his sibling.
“Didn’t feel like staying tonight. But why are you here? And aren’t you off duty now?”
Prowl smiled as well, turning back to what looked most vexingly like work to Bluestreak. “I don’t want to rush things. Tonight was just to get Jazz’s attention. And there’s this report I thought I’d look over for Prime- Blue’!”
His brother had sighed and deftly relieved him of the file, then tugged the black and white tactician over to his recharge berth, shaking his head in exasperation.
“Y’know, we put you in an adult frame so you’d be safer, and what do you do? Join the army and become the slagging Second in Command. Primus. Was it our fault? Mine and Smokey’s stories about being in the Autobots and all the things we used to show you behind our creator’s back?”
The mech chuckled as he was nudged into sitting next to the gunner. “I was always going to sign up. The attack only reinforced my convictions.”
Bluestreak wilted. “I should have been there to wait for you. We knew it was dangerous.”
“You were there. You and Smokey.” Prowl rubbed his brother’s arm soothingly. “You taught me how to shoot and fight. Smokescreen’s stories about tactics taught me how to out think an opponent. My captor was not expecting a youngling to be able to do either, and thus I got away when I might not have otherwise.”
The gunner’s response to this was to pull the tactician closer with an aggravated sound before toppling them both onto the berth. Prowl’s lip plates quirked with amusement at his sudden entrapment, and from somewhere above him, Bluestreak muttered, sounding aggrieved. “I know you’re smirking at me. This is the only way Smokescreen or I are ever going to win an argument with you. So hush and recharge already.”
A quiet snicker, and he felt his sibling settle down in acquiescence. “Yes, Blue’.”
= = =
Back in the rec room, Sunstreaker stilled when his brother’s shock filtered through to him. Already feeling irritable, he jabbed back and was rewarded with a babbling explanation. Blinking in surprise, he stared at the door where Prowl and Jazz had left some time ago.
“Huh. Explains a lot.”
“What explains a lot?”
The yellow Lamborghini glared at Tracks, who’d been grinning at him all night ever since he’d backed down against a certain black and white Ops mech. “Prowl’s just come of age. Explains why I was trying to hit on him just now.”
The Corvette sat up straight, then turned a considering look at the door as well. Sunstreaker frowned at the mech’s expression. “Watch yourself, Tracks. You saw Jazz.”
“Mmm. And I also heard you tell him our SIC’s a free mech. Jazz can’t force him to stay if he doesn’t want to. Can’t help it if I’m handsome enough to tempt Prowl, can I?”
The frontliner growled warningly, and the blue mech shrugged, folding his arms challengingly at the frontliner. “If he’s just reached that age, then he’s likely to have been completely untried ‘til now. Prowl’s going to be curious. Talk about opportunities.”
“Well, talk about them to someone else.” The Lamborghini snapped, rising abruptly and stalking out of the rec room. Behind him, Tracks grinned, and started to plot.
A/N: Potential ill effects of a too early upgrade were inspired by Vejiraziel's fic - 'Sparkless'.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 04:14 am (UTC)::basks:: ahh, the loveliness. I will continue to stalk because your fic never fails to satisfy. clicks on datsun trine tag again
Thank you for you lovely writing, and may there be more to come!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 04:26 am (UTC)Behind him, Tracks grinned, and started to plot.
Why do I have a feeling a certain corvette has a date with Ratchet in near future?
Nice to see a sensible Sunstreaker too, he is too often just psychotic!twin. And eldest Datsuns being out-logic'ed by a youngling!Prowl as well as the only way they can win an argument = double win!
And I second a wish for youngling!Prowl's and Jazz's first time fic.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 06:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 06:43 am (UTC)Oh, formidable even as a kid, that Prowl. YES! ::evil grin::
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 10:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 10:42 am (UTC)It's pretty much the only argument they get to win too.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 10:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 10:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 12:35 pm (UTC)Sides is an idiot. So is Tracks. For different reasons.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 01:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 02:32 pm (UTC)I'd like to see that first-time fice, also. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 02:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 02:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-26 02:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-30 05:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-01 01:14 pm (UTC)