Author's Note: These tales were written for the LiveJournal Community, "TFMechExchange", and as such, all characters portrayed herein are the property of their respective creators. The tales are not interconnected, unless otherwise noted.

Seeklet Short Story
TF-Mech Exchange Lightning Round
Sept '07

"Here kitty, kitty."

Hotstrike, better known to her brothers as Scritch, sat sprawl-legged beneath the shade of a large maple tree. She had a torn-off branch clutched in one small fist, idly doodling in the loam. Taser's coaxing croon brought her head up. He was crouched between two thick pieces of brush, his aft wiggling from side to side.

"Here kitty, kitty."

Scritch frowned. "What're you doin'?"

Taser's reply was couched in a low hiss. "Quiet! You'll scare the kitty!"

"Kitty? What kitty?"

"Ravage, duh," Blackmark – or, Stick – noted from his perch in the branches above Scritch's head.

"It's not Ravage!" Taser pulled his head back and scrunched his facial plates petulantly. "Ravage ain't yellow."

Scritch twirled the branch, chewing on it thoughtfully. Or what she hoped was a thoughtful manner. The humans on the vid did it all the time. "Well, he was that time we got into Scavenger's lacquer." She spat the branch out and scrubbed at her lip components with a blue, red-trimmed hand. Ugh!

Stick chuckled, swinging his black legs. That was one of his favorite pranks. Taser, on the other hand, was less than impressed. "C'mon!"

He ran over to Scritch and grabbed her by the shoulder strut, all but hauling her to her feet. The seeklet femme stumbled, afterburners creating ruts in the loam. "Ease off, will ya?" She pushed Taser's hands from her shoulders and got on her hands and knee-caps, sticking her head into the brush.

Heavy panting, a whiff of Energon, washed over her. The great burnished yellow muzzle of a metallic cat lay within millimeters of her nasal ridge. It was not Ravage.

Scritch's optics nearly exploded from their sockets. She scrabbled backwards, fire licking at her heels as she sought to transform. Dry needles caught, spreading like wildfire across the forest floor. "RUN!" she screamed over all-comm as the not-Ravage bolted from cover.

Taser took one look at the gaping jaws and decided that this was not a kitty to play with. Stick, still perched in the tree, narrowed his optics as his yellow and purple brother took to the sky a nanosecond later. "Don't leave me!" he yelled, more concerned with being left behind than the fire or the primitive Autobot on the ground.

Steeljaw howled frustration. He leapt, snapping at tailfins before crashing to the ground, surrounded by fire. Growling, he proceeded to try and stamp out the flamelets, calling for Inferno.

Above, the three seeklets circled and headed for home.