Another short story from me! I hope you like it as much as I had fun in writing it. looks around Please review? Any kind of comments (apart from flames) are welcomed!

Special thanks to my betas!

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers and never will, no matter how much I like the show... sigh...



Cleaning Service

"I can't believe this, Skywarp! How could you?"

"Hey, relax, buddy." The black Seeker grinned. "Nothing major happened."

"Nothing?" Thundercracker scowled, not even trying to hide his displeasure.

"TC," Skywarp tried to reason, still smiling happily, "Look: the mission was a success. No casualties. No one was even hurt."

"It's normal!" The blue Seeker interjected. "It was a simple raiding mission, with only humans' jets trying to bother us. It wasn't even worth the worry!" Thundercracker didn't surprise his wingmate with his harsh, sudden outburst; the blue jet didn't like harming helpless opponents, but he hated it when such worthless foes thought they could outmatch a Decepticon Seeker in his element with borrowed wings. Realizing to have been side-tracked, Thundercracker shook his head. "That isn't the point."

"And what is?" Skywarp asked, trying – and failing – to look surprised.

This time Thundercracker didn't answer, but looked sternly at his wingmate. Skywarp laughed.

"Oh, lighten up!"

After a long moment, Thundercracker relented. "Go clean yourself," he said, somewhat resignedly, pointing to the chemical cleanser system across their quarters.

"Yes, sir!" The other mock-saluted. After a couple of steps, he glanced back. "Are you coming?"

"You still know how to scrub yourself, right?"

Thrown off by the answer, Skywarp remained still. A second later, however, he had readied an excuse: "Ah, TC, you know that it's hard for a flier to clean himself really well, and this time the dirt has gotten everywhere…"

The blue Seeker gave him a half smile. "You had to think about that before going in robot mode into grimy smoke trails. You know that it's a mess to polish afterwards, and you didn't have to follow the crashing jets that closely."

"…it was Megatron's order to 'make sure that the humans were out of the way'." Skywarp quoted.

Half smile still present, Thundercracker merely waited. When Skywarp began to look nervous and almost ready to shoot another volley of weak, semi-logical reasons, the blue jet finally said: "You know that I would never leave you so filthy inside our quarters. C'mon, let's go."

He went to the cleanser, brushing past Skywarp, and activated it. When the polishing chemical liquid began to flow he turned, waiting for his wingmate.

For some seconds, the black jet only looked at Thundercracker, surprised, mouth slightly open. Rarely did his friend manage to fool him like that. Seeing the smug look in his partner's optics, Skywarp admitted defeat, closing his mouth to grin faintly. He walked over and stepped into the cleanser.

"Aaah." Relaxing under the cool spray was good, and feeling the grime finally begin to slide away was even better.

Fliers were always tidy, none could stand being covered in filth: it was a deep-rooted feeling, an instinct they all had. A good thing for survival, too: better to not have their engines all clogged up and the sensors in disarray, or they'd risk to crash every time they got in the air. And they had to fly, it was their life.

Even though he was sloppier than others, Skywarp was no exception. He never intentionally dirtied himself; at least until that day, millions of years ago…

He snapped back to the present when he sensed Thundercracker approaching behind him, a clean cloth in one hand. Slowly, carefully, the blue jet began to rub Skywarp's back. Their energy fields touched, and Skywarp's sensors immediately powered up at the light pressure of TC's fingers, following seemingly random patterns he knew by heart.

The black jet sighed blissfully, switching off his optics. This… this was why he didn't mind getting messy, now. The feeling of Thundercracker's gentle hands on him under the cleaning spray was almost overwhelming, and he hadn't even touched his more sensitive wings or his stabilizers, yet.

Skywarp turned, optics half powered up now, and began to gently caress the blue jet's forearms. Thundercracker grabbed his hands, gently but firmly stopping him.

"You'll dirty me," he warned softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Skywarp glanced briefly at his companion's arms – indeed, there were black trails on his blue finish now -, then back at his optics, and answered: "I'll clean you up, later."

Thundercracker smiled, optics dimming a fraction. "I'll hold you to that."

"Sure."

The cloth slipped to the ground, but neither of them noticed. It remained there for a long time.

The End