Hey, all my Avatar fans, sorry, this isn't Avatar XD This is Transformers Animated, which the third season is currently airing so I felt compelled to write this. So if you want to read this thats okay. Just don't review something stupid or angry since it isn't Avatar. Anyways..Its a response to the death (Cough Cough) of my favorite character Blurr. There is spoilers for Transwarped, but if you haven't seen Transwarped at this point you aren't a real TFA fan. There are also spoilers for well...what Derrick J. Wyatt the head animation design guy for TFA said about Blurr...So BEWARE!! Also, I write Blurr the way he should be...WITH NO SPACES BETWEEN HIS WORDS!!! So if you can't read it I'm sorry. Just squint. I also got to write a bit of Longarm/Shockwave, Cliffjumper, Ironhide, Sentinel and Wasp so it is pretty long XD All of the time terms are TFA-use only, so I know that cycles means different things in different universes, but here it means hours 'kay? I don't know much more about anyother Transformersverse except Animated...and Bayformers (2007 movie) and a bit about Armada which was my first series I watched, but that was a LONG time ago... If you are confused go to TFwiki, where I get all of my canon info. Most of this is ironic or explains odd things, so yeah...Please R&R I worked REALLY hard on this!

Rated T for Violence, Cybertronian cursing (Slag) and Cybertronian intake of alcoholic beverages (Oil)

"Have you shared this information with anyone else?" Longarm cautiously asked as he looked around. Blurr felt the question was irrelevant, since he knew that he was going to tell all of Cybertron the news once he passed it through his boss, and his boss surely knew as well. But from that run he still felt drained of energon, and he didn't feel like being sarcastic, so he decided to just tell it straight.

"IhaveNOT! Asperpriororders!" He quickly spat out, not without a bit of emphasis on the first statement. He wished Longarm would hurry up and finish debriefing him. He was getting tired of holding his servo in a salute.

"Good." Longarm leaned back and raised his servo to strike. Blurr stared in shock for a few nanoclicks, but then dashed over to the side, evading the attack. Completely taken aback by the current events, the blue `bot skidded across the floor to a halt, and let his servos hang in the air, along with his jaw. He cocked his faceplate to the side and squinted one of his viz scanners.

"Doyounormallymakeitahabittoattackyourown`bots, sir?" He asked in distress. "Imeanitseemsalittleagressive, perhapsevenDecepticon-likebehaviorifyoudon'tmindmy sayingso…" As he spoke, he didn't notice Longarm transform and begin to fire at him. He swerved to the left, dodging the attack, still continuing to talk, though adding a bit more severity in his tone, "Infact, ifIdidn'tknowbetter," Another shot. This time he headed for the right, "Iwouldconcludatthispointthatyouaretryingtoeliminatemeforsomeunknownreason!"

Before Longarm could take another aim at him, Blurr turned around and sped into the Cybertronian tunnels. If he remembered correctly, one of the exits led to the Elite Guard headquarters. Then he would be safe, safe from…Longarm? Nothing made sense. He was an Autobot. He was his boss! Putting two and two together, he realized that this meant Longarm was the very traitor that he had sent Blurr to look for on Earth.

But that couldn't be! Everything in his spark wanted to believe that this wasn't happening. That Longarm wasn't a Decepticon. But the evidence was overwhelming. Not only this attack, but the fact that he now knew that it couldn't have been Wasp. His programming told him to run for his spark, and for the sparks of all the `bots on Cybertron. Only he knew these two pieces of precious information. Only he could reveal the traitor.

Blurr raced down the tunnel, hoping that it led to the Elite Guard. He had only been running for maybe half a cycle and felt that he should be reaching the point when he was supposed to make a turn. At least, that was what he thought. It wasn't like he memorized the pathways that linked together. When he had looked at the maps of the tunnel systems he had only scanned them momentarily and commented on how maze-like it seemed. It had gotten a laugh from his fellow `bots and a stern look from his boss. The traitor.

It made his spark sting with sorrow to think of Longarm in that way, but it was the truth. He was no longer an ally.

His viz scanners brightened as he approached a y-intersection in the system. He could either keep moving forward, or turn to the left. The left seemed favorable, since he still held on to the notion that he was supposed to turn. But the turn could be later on the way. Conflicted, he considered the consequences of going the wrong way. Longarm could catch up to him and…

He smirked. What was he thinking? He was the fastest Autobot in the Elite Guard Intelligence division. Possibly the fastest Autobot in Cybertron. The universe even! There was no way in the pit that that traitor could catch up to him. And Longarm knew it.

With that danger out of the way, Blurr decided the best way to find the route to the Elite Guard was to keep going forward and see if there were any further turns. If they didn't lead to the Elite Guard, he could easily come back and check out that corridor way before Longarm could transform into his Decepticon shell.

Blurr accelerated forward towards his destination. He could already visualize himself arriving at the Elite Guard. The looks on their faceplates when he told them the news. That only made him more surprised when a door slammed shut before his located corridor.

He skidded slightly before the door in shock. Quickly, he regained his bearings and raced down the turn instead. Odd. It almost seemed that the tunnels were telling him that he was supposed to take the turn that he had decided not to. Well, if it went where he wanted, he was grateful for their help. But tunnels weren't living. Maybe Allspark-empowered tunnels, but he was pretty certain that he wasn't in that kind. His programming sensed danger. He didn't have time for that though.

Brushing the thoughts aside, he looked ahead and saw himself coming to another y-intersection. He sure was right when he compared the system to a maze. Without going through the same path of thoughts that he had before he skipped right to the decision to continue heading forward and not turning. This was quickly denied when another door slammed in front of him.

He swerved to the right and continued his escape. Now he couldn't just ignore the fact that doors were closing. It wasn't just the tunnels. It wasn't just a coincidence. Somebot was cutting him off from the outside. And it could only be one `con. Longarm. This hallway was smaller than the other, breaking off into two separate turns. Great. Another decision. A harder one. Right or left? Right or left!? He didn't have the precious nanoclicks to think it out now. He wasn't running freely anymore. He was being hunted.

He furrowed his viz scanners and flew forward. He wasn't going to let Longarm win. He wasn't going to let the Decepticons win.

His spark dampened when, once again, a door slammed before him. He slid to a halt and spun around. Blurr then realized that the only way out of the tunnels was to retrace his steps and go back. Go back…to Longarm? It felt very unfavorable to go back to the one you were running from. Then again, it was better then waiting for him to come to you…

He revved his engines to go forward only to have another door fall down before him. Slag…

Blurr waited a few nanoclicks, knowing he could do nothing. He was trapped between two walls. There was nowhere to go. He would just have to wait until Longarm came to lick his-

A whirring noise caught his attention, as well as rumbling from under his stabilizing servos. He whirled his head around from the right and to the left several times. His viz scanners widened. The doors were headed towards him!

Ohslagohslagohslag!! Blurr frantically thought of what he could possibly do to avoid the fate obviously given to him. Longarm intended to turn him offline without getting his own servos dirty. He was going to crush him alive!

The doors were getting closer, and Blurr knew he had to slow down their progress to have any chance of staying online. He fired up his engines as hot as it could go. He felt the adrenaline rush through his circuitry. He had to go fast. Really fast. As fast as he had earlier that orbital cycle, when he ran all the way there. As fast as he had gone in his entire life. When he had ran to his boss, who was not the Autobot he claimed to be. Fueled by anger, saving his spark, and relaying the information, Blurr rushed towards the first door.

His servos flew in front of him to thrust against the door. His stabilizing servos slid on the floor and pushed him off the ground. His first mistake. He knew it as soon as it happened. Slagitall! Without being on the ground, he wouldn't create enough force to slow down the rate of motion of the wall. Basic physics anybot knew. The momentum caused from his stabilizing servos spinning in midair was adequate only to decelerate the movement for less than a nanoclick.

Frenzied he turned to the other door with his servos out once more. He only had a few nanoclicks left. Then it was to the Well of All Sparks. The space between the two doors was growing increasingly smaller. In order to gain more time, he jumped up and tried to use the door as a ledge to push against. His second mistake. When he figured out that it didn't affect the time at all, he also knew that there was no space for him to flatten back and push more at the rate of the door's movement.

Slag! He felt the door press into his back, and he pushed back with all the strength he had left. He wouldn't go offline without a fight. The pressure became more intense, and he could feel his own circuits being crushed inside of him. He gritted his teeth and closed his viz scanners as the pain washed through him. He wouldn't give up. He wouldn't give up. With a gasp, he let the pain overcome him and screamed. Then everything went black.

His last thought was his hope that the Well of All Sparks was as good as everybot told him it would be.

Shockwave quickly transformed into his Autobot counterpart and smiled satisfactorily as the screams and the sound of crushing metal died down from the tunnels. He had always wondered if mechanizing the doors would ever bring any use to him. Turns out it did. Considering the power he possessed, he began to shudder in delight. He may not have had the speed or strength to shut that annoying Autobot offline, but he had the quick thinking to pull it off.

Pressing a button to detract the doors, he headed into the tunnels. He had some garbage to pick up.

He navigated smoothly through the halls, anticipating the arrival of his newly created carnage. Megatron will be pleased. And why shouldn't he? Ever since he entered his service the Decepticons had done nothing but flourished. Not counting their recent blunder on Earth, but he had a certain jet to blame for that. And a certain living ship. And a certain now-offline `bot. But they had bounced back from defeat. They still had a chance.

This was the last turn. He swerved around it hurriedly and came in view of his prize. Though it was not at all what he expected. Lying pitifully before him was a crushed blue cube. He pondered for a moment, considering how doors compressing an object horizontally could cause said object to become a cube, but he instantly brushed all logic aside. All that mattered was the `bot was offline, and would no longer meddle in his affairs. He picked it up gingerly and found that it was oddly light for being made from an average-sized `bot.

Shockwave turned the cube around in his hand as he walked down another tunnel. While he was there, he figured he might as well use the system to arrive at his office. Then he would find a good use for his newly acquired trinket. Perhaps he could use it as a resting block for his stabilizing servos to lean on.

He continued to turn the cube around in his servos until something caught his attention. He stopped rotating the object and peered closely at it. A pulsating light was emitting from one of the sides of the cube. Instantly, Shockwave felt his processors run cold in fear. He precariously held the remains of the Autobot in one servo and lifted it closer to his viz scanners. Then he identified the glow.

It was a spark. It was that slagged Autobot's spark. It wasn't extinguished. He was still online.

In rage and horror, he cried out and hurled the cube into the ground. He listened as both his cry and the sound of clanging metal reverberated against the walls throughout the tunnel system and let his circuits cool down. This was fine. Just a minor setback. Besides, if the `bot was online he was in stasis and thus would not be sharing his coveted information to anybot soon.

Shockwave sighed and leaned over to pick up the cube again, a bit ashamed at his outburst. His action was quickly interrupted by the sound of stabilizing servos headed his way. He froze, and turned around in time to see a very familiar faceplate. A faceplate that was not supposed to be there.

"Ironhide, what are you doing back on Cybertron?" The comment immediately gave him the feeling of déjà vu. But it wasn't his fault that `bots that weren't expected to be on the planet suddenly showed up. Ironhide saluted at the sight of his superior.

"Our team was rescued from a `con ambush at our space bridge and now I have to be debriefed by Ultra Magnus, Longarm Prime sir!" He replied.

"And you're late." He wasn't sure if this was the truth, but the deduction seemed probable. Why else would he be in the middle of the tunnel system? Ironhide grew red, which proved his presumption to be correct.

"N-No! I just heard your shouting from an entrance of the tunnels, and wanted to make sure you were alright…" He looked to the side in embarrassment, "You are alright, aren't you, sir?"

"Of course I am, do I look injured?" Shockwave answered harshly. He knew that being cold to someone could often get them to leave you alone. But Ironhide didn't seem convinced.

"You did scream mighty loud. And I heard something fall. Are you sure, sir?" Shockwave felt like tearing out his circuits out at the sight of this sincere concern. It sickened him to the core. He tried not to let his disdain show, but he was sure it was apparent.

"I just dropped this piece of slag on my stabilizing servo. It surprised me more than it hurt, hence the outcry."

"Oh, I see now, Longarm Prime sir." He bent over to look at the cube on the ground. "That is some odd-looking cube right there. Where'dja get it?" Shockwave nervously considered his answer.

"I found it when I arrived at the space bridge this sunrise. It must have come in with the last transwarp." He quickly grabbed the suddenly very popular object from the ground so that Ironhide wouldn't see anything he didn't need to see, "Well, I need to get going to my office to decontaminate this. Who knows what kind of organic material could be infested in it." Ironhide stepped back and eyed the cube with a newfound disgust.

"Uh…yeah, that sounds like a mighty-fine idea to me, sir." He replied and turned around to go on his way. Shockwave was about to happily leave the mudflap and get back to business, when something crossed his mind.

"Oh, and Ironhide?" The `bot twirled around at his name being called, "Since you are on your way to Ultra Magnus, could you tell him something for me? It would save me a lot of cycles."

"Sure thing, Longarm Prime sir. What is it?"

"I've recently lost communication with one of my intel `bots who was stationed on Earth. Agent Blurr. His last transmission told me he had crucial information about the traitor Wasp. If you could inform him about his disappearance so we can start a universal search, it would be very helpful. Not that you aren't already a very helpful `bot" He sweetened up his words so Ironhide would leave on a happy note.

"T-thank you, Longarm Prime sir. I'll tell him first thing." Ironhide replied with a huge smile on his faceplate. Promptly, he returned on his way with energon he didn't have before.

Shockwave felt his body loosen in relief, and he observed the cube again. Perhaps when he slammed it into the ground, the spark died. He spun it around to look for the spark. No such luck. Its glow was not as bright as before, but it still remained. He considered simply tearing out the slagged thing and crushing it in his bare servos. No, not even that was gruesome enough. A plot hatched in Shockwave's processor that would make him completely blameless of the crime. He wouldn't kill the `bot. He would ask someone else to. And he knew exactly who was perfect for the job.

Cliffjumper nervously looked around the room and clutched the mug in his servo. Longarm Prime hadn't shown up yet. Fortunately. He sighed and lifted the mug to his mouth and let the cold liquid slide down his throat. Ah…Nothing beat oil on a relatively hot day. Not that it was ever really hot on Cybertron. And besides, he was in a building, where the far-off sun could not be seen. Oh well. Any excuse was a good excuse to drink oil. Especially when he needed it.

He hid the mug under his desk and checked for any sign of his boss. Nothing. It was a bit odd. Longarm Prime was always on time to check-in for the orbital cycle. Not that it bothered him. It gave him more time to drink his oil.

Cliffjumper knew very well why no liquids were allowed in the office building. Especially oil. All of the transmission devices and machines could be severely damaged if he spilled anything on it. And that would be a problem. If anyone lost contact with the head of Autobot Intelligence they could be in serious trouble. Especially since transmissions now had to be filtered through him. That bothered Cliffjumper. Longarm Prime wasn't usually so…jumpy when it came to his job.

He quickly raised the mug and took another sip. Since he knew the danger of bringing the oil here, not only to the machines but to his job since there was the risk of firing, why did he disobey? Cliffjumper smiled. It was all that slagged Sentinel Prime's fault. Well, actually, it was Sentinel Minor's fault.

Cliffjumper had entered the Autobot boot camp to join the Elite Guard. Wasn't uncommon. It was practically everybot's dream and expectation. But when he arrived there he realized that he wasn't quite the Guard material. The hard way. To have a `bot scream in your face that you were a glitch-headed coward wasn't what anybot wanted. It had scarred him for life.

Before he left, a certain drill sergeant noticed something about him by the way he packed. He had a knack for organization. That earned him his first job. Secretary at the Autobot boot camp. It wasn't glamorous, but it was a job. It also earned him an obscure ally. Sentinel knew from reports that Cliffjumper wasn't the most…talkative `bot. So he decided to use him as the recipient of his complaints. Not that Cliffjumper minded. It just got very repetitive. Very repetitive.

Just before he thought his processor would turn to mush from all the slag coming at him, something interesting happened at the boot camp. A traitor was found.

Cliffjumper had to admit that he had not especially liked Wasp. He even heard that he had dismantled a fellow cadet's legs, which wasn't exactly friendly behavior. But he had never expected him to be a Decepticon spy. Nevertheless, the evidence was overwhelming, and Cliffjumper was awarded the most prestigious duty of wheeling him to a transport to take him to the stockade. How much more fun could he have been having then?

After Sentinel had ripped off his Autobot insignia from his chestplate, he had pushed him over to the transport quickly. The whole way there Wasp was screaming hysterically that he wasn't a traitor and something about revenge on somebot named 'Bumblebee'. Then something strange happened. Just before they shut the doors to the transport, the green `bot had turned and looked him straight in the viz scanners.

"Secretary-bot believes me, right?"

Cliffjumper had forced a smile and let the doors shut in front of him. He was relieved to be rid of Wasp, but something nagged at him. The cadet hadn't sounded like himself. His voice was helpless and afraid instead of being firm. As if it was wavering. And he thought that Wasp had known his name, so why did he refer to him as 'Secretary-bot'? He had quickly brushed it off and returned to his duties.

Sentinel ordered a celebration to be held for his accomplishment in capturing the `con spy (though Cliffjumper knew that one of the cadets had actually discovered him). The celebration, as it turned out, was Cliffjumper and Sentinel going down to Maccadam's Oil House. Cliffjumper had been wary of going in; he had heard some bad reports of incidents occurring after too much consumption of oil. Sentinel had simply laughed at the notion and reassured him by telling him that he drank oil all the time. For some reason that hadn't helped Cliffjumper's conscience at all.

When he held that first cup in his hand he was still a bit uneasy with what he was about to do. Sentinel was paying for it, so it wasn't like he was wasting any energon. But something felt wrong. Like some unknown evil was contained in that cup. Seeing that his 'friend' was still not ready to start chugging oil, although he himself was already on his third round, Sentinel leaned down and said slowly.

"C'mon, Cliffjumper. Its oil. The miracle liquid. The perfect solution for troubles and the best way to celebrate."

With those words, Cliffjumper had raised the cup and let the oil pour down. His viz scanners widened and he had spit it on in disgust. Sentinel and a few others in the building had laughed at the 'first-timer'. Embarrassed, Cliffjumper had drunk the rest of the cup slowly and with a great amount of force. The liquid was very strong and had a corrosive taste. He had wondered how the rest were drinking it so quickly.

Before he knew it, another cup was set before him and Sentinel insisted that he drink that one too. Sentinel had been talking, but it sounded even less comprehensible than his usual babble. Cliffjumper hesitantly obeyed and gulped down the second cup. He felt himself become acquainted with the flavor, though there was still a bit of an aftertaste. There was something else too. His processor was feeling increasingly dizzy, like he had taken an express trip around Cybertron a million times over.

He told himself not to mind it, and found himself unconsciously ordering another drink. After he had guzzled that one down he lost track of the rest of the drinks he had bought. It was addictive. The remainder of the 'celebration' he had with Sentinel he couldn't recall, though the drill sergeant filled him in later that it consisted of dancing and singing at the top of their lungs.

He awoke the next orbital cycle with a processorache the size of Sentinel's chin and a major loss of energon. It was then that he vowed to never again drink oil. He personally saw and experienced what it could do, and nothing good seemed to come of it. And he kept that vow…until the following stellar cycle.

It was then that Cliffjumper learned that Wasp had gone insane in the stockade

Cliffjumper's circuits had wrenched inside of him. He realized he must have seen the last bit of his sanity when he sent him off. The poor kid couldn't have been the spy. If he was a `con he wouldn't have cracked so easily. Everybot knew that `cons were tougher than that. He felt that it was his fault for the `bot's current state. Not that it was, but he needed to blame somebot and it was easiest to blame himself. Besides, he was the one who technically sent him to the stockade. Only he could've changed the current events. This notion, of course, was also not true, but he didn't care anymore.

Maccadam's had become his second home. The oil took away his self-inflicted pain, and all the pain he had felt before. He knew that he was running from his problems, and could already hear his old nightmares creeping up behind him screaming that he was a coward. But he had to accept it now. Though it hurt him then and continued to hurt, he knew that he was a coward. It didn't matter. The oil took care of those open wounds.

He failed to show for his job anymore and was consequently fired. Sentinel tried to save his position, but there was nothing he could do. Everybot at the boot camp knew where he went every night and his state every morning. But no job meant no energon. No energon meant no oil. No oil meant no comfort.

It was then he met Longarm Prime. Actually, it was more or less the other way around. The `bot had just been named the new head of Autobot Elite Guard Intelligence. A very fancy title. And what was the first thing he did? Went out of his way to go to Maccadam's and hire Cliffjumper.

Though his processor had been buzzing with the few cups he had already drunk, he listened to Longarm's proposition with all the attention he could muster. Longarm wanted him as a secretary. Not that it wasn't expected. So far it seemed the only good he could do. The payroll was three times the energon he received at his gig at the boot camp, and Longarm would allow him to drink all the oil he wanted after work. Actually, he seemed to encourage it. Being completely wiped the next orbital cycle didn't seem to bother him. The only exception was absolutely no drinking on the job. Because of liquid hazards and machines.

But certainly, with Longarm fully recognizing his…'problem', he didn't really expect him to keep that rule. Not that he purposefully tried to break it, but this was an extraordinary circumstance.

And so the silent `bot was thrown into the situation he was currently in. The night before Longarm had him working overtime, so he was unable to make his routine run to Maccadam's. And it wasn't even important stuff either. His boss just wanted him to make sure absolutely no transmissions came through without being filtered through him. Cliffjumper didn't know why Longarm was being so insistent about the filter. Unless perhaps he was the…No. He couldn't jump to conclusions.

At first Cliffjumper was fine with missing a visit to Maccadam's. Perhaps it would stop his compulsion and let him live normally. And everything seemed fine. Until he arrived at the office.

His servo began shaking almost immediately. He tried to stop it but it was no good. He was desperate. Since he always arrived cycles before his boss, he knew that he would have enough time to buy a drink real fast and bring it back. He would drink it fast, dispose the cup in the incinerator, and then go on with his orbital cycle. So he did.

Now the mug was half-empty, and the back of his processor began to buzz. It felt good. Maybe it would help him concentrate more. He knew that was a lie, but it was a pretty good one.

He was about to down the rest of the mug when the automatic doors swooshed open. Catching Cliffjumper by surprise, he quickly slammed the mug on the ground before him and adjusted himself towards the computer screen to make it appear as if he had been working. He winced as he noticed some of the oil had splashed out and was on the floor. He stuck one of his stabilizing servos over to conceal it. He sighed and turned towards the door. He was ready.

Longarm Prime was currently in his vehicle mode, carrying a peculiar object. It looked like a blue cube. He slowly drove up by the desk. Cliffjumper stood in respect to his superior and boss arriving.

"Agent Cliffjumper." He transformed into robot mode smoothly and continued to walk up to the desk. Cliffjumper smiled. He knew that the `bot called him an agent just to make him feel special. "Please dispose of this… 'sensitive material'." He tossed the cube over to his secretary and walked towards his office without missing a beat. Cliffjumper grabbed the cube gingerly and turned watching his boss walk, a bit shocked. He knew Longarm had been acting strange lately, but he usually wasn't so random with his duties. But once again, it wasn't his place.

"Yes sir, Longarm Prime sir!" He raised his free servo in salute. His boss continued into the office and the doors shut behind him. Odd…no salutation or explanation for his lateness. And did he seem a little…stressed?

Cliffjumper decided to stop snooping into other's business finally and went back to the matter of the cube. It was a clumpy blue mass of metal. Didn't look like it had much value. No wonder Longarm didn't want it. He turned and pressed the button to open the hatch to the incinerator. This was where his mug would be going soon. Perhaps it could get acquainted with this unwanted piece of slag.

As quickly as it was in his servos it was gone, sliding down the shaft to arrive at the incinerator. He watched it and felt like he should be waving goodbye. That was stupid though. It was just a piece of garbage. Something about it did look familiar though…

He had no cycles to think about that though. He had to drink that oil and do it quick. He would be severely punished if he didn't.

Cliffjumper returned to his seat and lifted his mug from the ground, not without a quick glance to his boss's room. He wasn't looking. Perfect. He drank a fourth of the oil and set it down behind the computer so that Longarm couldn't see it. He swished the liquid around before swallowing. It let the flavor last a bit longer. And let him think a little more.

The blue. It was the color that bothered him. That distinct shade of blue…

Ah! He remembered now! There was an intelligence agent whose color scheme was the same shade. He was deployed to Earth to do intercept messages and monitor Decepticon activities. What was his name…It actually was a bit like his color, if he remembered correctly. Blue…Blue…Blu…Blurr!

Of course. Why was he so dense? How could he have forgotten Blurr? He was only his complete opposite, and he had realized that as soon as he had met him. Longarm had given him the privilege to meet the prodigy intel `bot right before they sent him off. The kid had only spoken to him once, but it gave him a good enough impression.

"Ohsoyouarethesecretary`botLongarminformedmeabout. MynameisBlurrand, waitwhyamItellingyouwhoIam? AssecretaryitisobviousthatyouknowthenamesandwhereaboutsofalltheagentshereandthusthereisnoimmediatereasonastowhyIshouldintroducemyself." He blushed, "I'mimmenslysorry. Itseemsthatmyprogramminghasn'tquitepreparedmeforthenervesthatIamnowexpiereincingduetothefactthatIhavebeenassignedtoleaveforEarth. I'vehearditisaveryniceplanetthough, evethoughthethoughtofseventy-fivepercentwaterdoesnotquiteappealtome. Oh, thereisLongarm, IassumeIshouldgetgoing. Itwasverynicetomeetyou."

Cliffjumper had never got the chance to reply to the chatty `bot, not that he wanted to. He thought it was odd that he took the time to apologize for his nerves affecting his ranting instead of just apologizing for talking fast altogether. He later found out that he always spoke at that speed. This caused a bit of uneasiness. Cliffjumper never liked talkative `bots, and this was a high-speed talkative `bot.

He looked back at the incinerator shaft and frowned. The cube had been rather big for an average piece of trash. And it had a different feeling about it. But if that was Blurr that would mean Longarm had…

Cliffjumper sighed. He was snooping again. Not only was Longarm practically incapable of doing anything so immoral, but there was no way that Blurr could have fit into that cube. It was nonsense. Complete utter nonsense. Complete utter nonsense that made a bit of sense if you thought about it…

Slag No! He violently grabbed the mug and began to drain it of its contents, along with his worries. He decided to let the oil swish in his mouth a bit longer than last time. This was the last bit. He shouldn't keep freaking out. He shouldn't feel like there was a traitor around every corner and if he just kept looking he would finally prove it.

The screen in front of him buzzed and came to life, startling the `bot. He hid the mug to the side of the computer and tried to swallow before the transmission began, but it was too late. Ultra Magnus's face filled the monitor and if he swallowed now it would be obvious he had been drinking on duty. Slag…

"Cliffjumper." The head of the Elite Guard spoke in a low commanding voice. Cliffjumper simply raised his servo in salute, hoping it would suffice as a response. It apparently did, for Ultra Magnus continued, "It has come to our attention that one of the intelligence agents has gone missing in action…"

Cliffjumper's viz scanners widened in fear. He almost choked on the oil, but restrained himself in order to not reveal the illicit liquid. This couldn't be what he thought it was. His suspicions couldn't have come true. It was impossible. Impossible!

"You are probably acquainted with him. His name is Blurr-"

Finally losing control, Cliffjumper leaned forward and opened his mouth, the oil splattering on the screen.


Okay Explanations: One this was originally a manga idea and the only thing I knew was that Cliffjumper was going to to spit out oil when he realized what he did. XDDD I totally blame him for whatever happens to Blurr since he WAS online. Derrick J. Wyatt confirmed it. But he also said the incinerator may or may not have been on...Slag...anyways~! I brought in Ironhide to explain why he was Cybertron in "Where is Thy Sting?" since no one knew why he was there XDDDD I fit in a Sentinel chin joke, I was soooo happy!

I got the Cliffjumper-alcoholic idea from 2 facts: One, he was hanging around Sentinel during the whole episode of "Autoboot Camp" and taking his slag like a good man. Then I have one of the TRansformers Animated: Arrival comics where Sentinel says hes gonna "have a few barrels at Maccadam's Oil House". I figured that Sentinel and Cliffjumper were more than acquantinces, and I knew that Sentinel probably took the credit for Wasp's capture (The jerkhead!!!) so I figured they would go to the oil house. Then I made Cliffjumper feel bad for WAsp. That's because I feel bad for Wasp. Sure, he was another Jerkhead, but I think he would have turned out a bit better and he didn't completely deserve total insanity...Now I feel bad for Cliffjumper. Yeah, I started out writing him with absolutely NO sympathy whatsoever, then as I continued I made him have a bad expierince at the boot camp, and then Sentinel and then Wasp, and now I feel bad for him XD And he got like, no lines in the show.

I'm not well-versed in G-1 references, but there are two I can see plainly. One is Maccadam's. The other is Cliffjumper being traitor trigger-happy XDDD

I'm actually really against fics that have dialouge taken right from the show, but now I find myself righting one that has most of the dialouge from the show XD I guess I'm converting to that idea

I have two more TFA oneshots in mind, but I will wait and update my Avatar fics before I type them up. They are about my other favorite characters, the Twins (Jetfire and Jetstorm) and the other is about Wasp going insane (I have a thing for that...if you haven't read my fic Madness...). I have obth fics thought out completely...unfortunately I'm not good at writing dialouge for characters with Russian accents (The Twins!!!). If anyone knows a site that can like...show me all the ways Russian people talk in english (that request is not worded correctly, but I hope you catch my gist) that would be very appreciated.

Well, I hope you enjoyed it, and PLEASE review!