Greetings, everyone! :D Thank you for the kind reviews. Hope you're well and all, and ready for some cracky weird goodness. Grughhh, I really must update my fics more.
This wasn't long in coming, heheh. C; Hope it doesn't disappoint!

Oh, and to anonybot, you may well be onto something. ;) I don't want to give much away, buttt you're certainly on the right lines. :D

PS. Upon formatting, ff has decided to italic-ify random large chunks of the chapter.


I've tried to nab them all, but if you see any inane sections that don't seem like they should be emphatic, please tellez-moi. :D (I think I found them all. There is quite a lot of italic-ification anyway.)


Of course, nothing is ever as simple as it should be.

Megatron realised he shouldn't have expected anything to do with this brat-Seeker to be simple (he simply realised it too late, is all).

His processor may well have reasoned what could go wrong with a cheery game of fetch? but as we all know, whenever said what could go wrong…? question pops into your mind or processor, the following proposal is never a very good idea. Instead, you should either proceed with caution or stop. Preferably stop.

Just stop.

Megatron being Megatron, the mech failed to think about this at all- and consequently, two minutes later, he was finding himself yearning for termination.

How, how could such an infantile small creature be so- so infuriating?

"Come here," he ordered for the thirty-first time, snapping his claws in frustration. It wasn't that he expected the seekerlet to actually obey, but it felt better than just standing like a useless idiot.

Megatron didn't want to process the fact that he probably did look like a useless idiot, so it was with great relief (and a good portion of shock) that he saw Starscream bound towards him, bright optics fixed on his own, the seekerlet spinning excitedly once he got nearer with several shrieky yaps.

Megatron eyed him suspiciously, narrowing his optics ever so slightly as the sparkling stared at him unblinkingly. "I don't trust you, beige."

Starscream's optics widened.

"Don't give me that look, whatever that look is."

Starscream delicately plonked his aft onto the ground before snapping his jaws repetitively and tilting his helm this way and that.

Megatron was momentarily convinced that the sparkling was having a spasm- however , it soon became apparent that Starscream was in fact attempting to manoeuvre his scrap metal into a better position for biting, which was exactly what he proceeded to do after lying down comfortably, holding the fragment still with his awkward forelimbs.

"We said no to biting," Megatron tried desperately. "Drop it."

A growling Starscream was now twisting his helm at a hideously awkward angle and gnawing on the metal with his back dental plates.

"No, no!" Megatron tried to grasp it but the seekerlet dived to the side-just out of reach- then watched him closely. Megatron reached for it again- Starscream sped away, then stopped.

"I am not going to chase you," Megatron informed loftily. "Come here or else."

Starscream barked and returned to biting, one optic half-shuttered in concentration.

"I'll put that down to you simply not understanding; let me try a different language." Megatron (oh so calmly, yeass) unsubspaced his cannon.

Unhappily, he didn't see the femme who was peacefully walking past with her youngling.

"Look, mother! That's exciting, you never point a cannon at me!"

Startled by the mother's horrified cry, Starscream's helm jolted up with a yap.

Megatron dived, hurling himself at the younger with all the power he could muster and nearly faceplanted into the ground, his target springing away with terrifying speed.

"You-!" he broke off, glaring about furiously.

The briefest glimpse of wide red optics peeking around a small metallic formation betrayed the sparkling's sanctuary.

"Be-ige," he hissed.

There was the briefest of hesitations before the seekerlet peered around his hiding place again. The rest of his body followed slowly as he crept over, belly close to the ground.

Subspacing his cannon, Megatron narrowed his optics again as if the very action would somehow keep the unruly creature from disobeying.

(It seemed to work.)

Starscream skulked to his pedes and sat heavily. He remained in the severe state of desolation for several moments before glancing up hopefully and scratching the mech in a clear plea to climb him, all sins forgiven and forgotten.

"No," Megatron said firmly, resolving to impress a lesson upon the wayward seekerlet.

Optics widened slightly as realisation slowly sank in; instantly tiny shoulders sagged, his helm hanging miserably before tiny limbs just ceased to function and Starscream drooped slowly to the ground.

Megatron was almost disturbed by the drastic difference, but decided not to pay him any attention.

He had more things to do than be servant to the whims and drama of a Seeker.

"Come," he ordered, and swept away.

He had somebody that he needed to see, and so tried to focus on said task in hand rather than the thought that the stubborn beast might not follow him. So it was that Megatron determinedly ignored the intermittent piteous wails and howls trailing along behind- until a hideously familiar being unexpectedly bounded towards him.

"Heya Megsy!"

Megatron wearily glowered in Jazz's direction. "What?"

"Ah see y'havin' fun!" the saboteur beamed.

The problem was that he really did think Megatron was havin' fun.

The large mech spotted a convenient problem. "Jazz, where are Prowl and Skywarp?"

Jazz froze, then slowly turned around as if he was expecting to see somebody.

Megatron waited patiently as the saboteur twizzled back to him. "They aren't there, Jazz."

Jazz twirled again, just to be sure. "Th'gone!"

"Aren't they just?"

Jazz appeared to be lost for words (incredible) and simply stood, astonished.

"Why don't you go and find them?" Megatron suggested hopefully.

"PROWLIE," the small mech roared, presumably into his comm. "PROWLIE WHERE ARE YER!"

In the short interlude, Megatron inconspicuously glanced backwards to catch a moderately distant Starscream instantly and inconspicuously glare in another direction.


Megatron took this as a sign from Primus that he should leave. Obviously it would be rude of him to disturb Jazz, so he had better leave immediately and silently. Quickly, too-if he didn't hurry he would miss Soundwave; the mech was continually leaving his office for social calls.


Although it was a pain, all this walking-! Optimus was the pensive walker, not he. Megatron would much rather fly or at least drive to his destination, but he couldn't do so without leaving the seekerlet behind. Unless he squashed the demi-devil into his cockpit? Tempting, but possibly verging on abuse. And it would probably end in tears too: the beast might attack his interior. Pain.

It almost didn't surprise Megatron that Starscream continued periodically (and loudly) lamenting his mistreatment. What was more surprising was when quite suddenly, he detected an unexpected movement. By the time he had calculated trajectories, Starscream had managed to fling himself onto the mech's back, to which he quietly clung like a limpet.

However, after all of the incredibly tiresome trudging he had arrived at his destination, so there was no time to pay the fiend attention anyway or peel it away or something.

Megatron entered without hesitating; Soundwave would know he was coming.

Seated in the centre of a circle of holomonitors, the sturdily-built mech gave a brief twitch of one of his unusual tentacle-like appendages in acknowledgment. Predictably, curled up contentedly by his pedes was a small silver cat. (Ah, no- not cat. Panther. Soundwave became very agitated- in a Soundwave-ish way- if you called Ravage a cat.)

Soundwave was… unusual. He simply liked you or he did not- but either way, you'd never hear about it. He was a mech unto himself, yet Megatron knew very well that Soundwave treated him unlike any other.

There weren't many that Soundwave actually liked.

To be fair, there weren't many that liked Soundwave. He kept to himself (to the point of little to no interaction with the world) and those who dared speak without favour were simply stared at. The lucky ones were those he didn't even deign to respond to- a Soundwave Stare (TM) was one of the most chillingly impassive phenomena of the entire universe.

Megatron supposed that Soundwave accepted him because of his lineage- whatever you said about him, the odd mech was incredibly respectful of rank.

Megatron spoke, well aware that the other was listening. "Has Prowl asked for your aid concerning the sparkling hoarder?"

"Response: Prowl will in four joors."

"Honestly, Soundwave. The misuse of telepathy should be considered as cheating. If you helped that poor mech to your full capacity I am sure there would be little to no crime on the whole of Cybertron."

"Soundwave has the information Prowl seeks," the mech replied, with a somewhat nonchalant roll of a tentacle.

"You would be so much more of a help if you wanted to help."

"Some: destined for glory," Soundwave replied, even turning his helm to gaze at Megatron fully. "Some: destined to be pillars in shadows."

"Lovely." The twerp was in one of those cryptic moods. Megatron never liked mysticism. He preferred bluntness, truth, and Soundwave was probably reading his processor right that astro-second. Twerp, Megatron thought viciously and loudly for good measure. "Does that relate to my previous point in any way?" He didn't expect a response, nor did he receive one. They both watched each other for a while: evaluating, judging. "Prowl doesn't like to use you, Soundwave. Why can't you offer him a- tentacle for once? You have plenty to spare."

Soundwave was silent, and Megatron watched an aforementioned tentacle wave around through the air.

He had to restrain the compulsion to blow it into smithereens.

"Possibility," the blue mech eventually muttered almost sulkily, were it possible. "Additional reason for interruption?"

"Ah," Megatron remembered, half-way through rolling his optics at the other's grumping. "Yes. What can you find out for me about Seekers?"

"Depends how far Soundwave is to go," Soundwave replied.

"I am not talking about anything illegal. Just information."

"Information still information no matter the legality," the mech reasoned.

"Then gather what you can by the law," Megatron insisted. "I need no more than that."

Soundwave gave a tentacle-shimmer of acceptance. "State cause of interest."

Megatron paused. "I have come into the temporary guardianship of a seekerlet."

Soundwave paused, apparently scanning the room. "Subject of dialogue is on you."

"He is," Megatron admitted, well aware that the beast was hiding on his back. "Come and see Soundwave, beige."

There was absolutely no movement at all.


Starscream growled lowly and refused to appear.

It was incredibly embarrassing to have somebody watch you be disobeyed and/or completely ignored by a whatever-Starscream-was.

"He's shy," the silver mech justified quickly, any excuse jumping to processor to avoid sheer humiliation.

Soundwave snorted, the sound so unexpected that Megatron momentarily froze. "Analysis: Starscream not shy."

"This is ridiculous," Megatron concluded before managing to reach behind himself (quite hard to do), locate the seekerlet (not as hard), reach further between his thrusters (ridiculously hard to the point of pain) and in the end have to manipulate his own arm into extending slightly to pluck aforementioned brute into the air. He dangled the Seeker before him. "Beige?"

Starscream hissed lowly, wing nubs bristling as Ravage raised his helm and peered over in the silver mech's direction.

"He seems a little lively," Megatron attempted to apologise as Soundwave eyed him incredulously. "Normally he's so well behaved."

Starscream wailed, struggling madly to wriggle free. The silver mech feared he might escape shortly and never be seen again (something that whilst seeming brilliant left him feeling oddly wrong).

"Would you mind awfully- if the door was closed?" He managed both to ask and hold on, a mighty feat.

"Affirmative," Soundwave replied, watching curiously.

Megatron paused for a moment. "Why?"

"Cause: Ravage dislikes enclosed spaces."

The silver mech resisted the temptation to blast the beast into smithereens and instead glanced desolately at the calm panther. "How did you train him to be so well-behaved?"

"Ravage: possesses intelligence."

Megatron did not like the insinuation that beige did not, but couldn't help silently agreeing with the other mech as Starscream howled after toothily savaging one of his claws.

Soundwave's facemask twitched slightly. "Request: noise must cease."

"I'm sure it's just Ravage," Megatron hastily explained whilst attempting to crush Starscream into stillness between his claws. "He'll be fine shortly."

Ravage meandered over, tail flicking in a manner far too jaunty before pausing to eye Megatron's burden.

"Good orn to you, Ravage."

The panther opened his maw and barked.

Megatron replayed this several times in his processor and concluded that it was a definite bark. He peered down at it. "Soundwave, are you sure that- nothing has been mixed up in there?"

The other mech blinked his visor.

Megatron decided not to spoil it for him. "…Nothing. Ravage is a- an adorable kitty."

Ravage rumbled his agreement before springing at Megatron's leg.

The silver mech twitched as its claws found purchase through the smallest chink of his armour, scraping jarringly at an inner plate before a slight tug as the cat propelled itself higher, hurling itself upwards-

"He's eating my cretin!" Megatron howled as it momentarily kicked itself away again with something familiar shrieking in its mouth.

"An apt conclusion." Soundwave paused. "Soundwave concurs."

"Control your beast," the silver mech ordered, only just repressing the urge to stamp on the menace.

"Cats cannot be controlled," Soundwave protested.

"Control it, or I shall transfer myself to pest-control."

Soundwave stared at Megatron for a moment, and his visor brightened slightly. Megatron snarled.

Ravage's helm popped up with a startled growl- although held down by a heavy paw, Starscream bit the panther's lower jaw savagely.

Ravage "m'roo"ed in shock before the sparkling shot out with a howl and continued bouncing around the room.

Megatron's optics attempted to follow the erratic path of the crazed mechling. "Look, the nasty kitty is in pain now. Bite him again."

Soundwave clicked disapprovingly as Megatron's claws suddenly shot out and captured his charge. "Noise: cease."

"You can do something about it?" Megatron asked sardonically, preparing to leave. Although he wasn't entirely sure and happy that he would be able to contain the sparkling, the risk of Starscream possibly escaping and fleeing in madness would be better than this.

"Soundwave can do many things," the mech replied cryptically.

A tentacle approached Megatron's claws.

Megatron resisted the urge to shift away and instead watched fascinated as the appendage curled up around the shaking creature and shimmered slightly.

"What on Cybertron are you doing?" he hissed, trying not to provoke Starscream with any loud noise.

"Location: under wing nubs. Purpose: sends into narcotic state."

Megatron was half-way through a snort of derision (imagine Starscream quiet) when he realised that as so far, Soundwave's statement was not unproved; the seekerlet had indeed ceased complaint. The silver mech watched almost suspiciously as the silence extended.

"This is incredible," he breathed, hardly daring to break it.

"Soundwave concurs."

They enjoyed the quiet a little while longer before Soundwave's tentacle floated back to Megatron, dropping the quiet brat-thing into his claws.

Starscream yawned widely, then looked up at Megatron with a bewildered squeak.

Something inside Megatron told him that this was not quite right. "Er, how long does it last?"

Soundwave shrugged. "Soundwave attempted experimental technique."

"Experimental?" Ratchet demanded as Megatron gingerly entered his 'boudoir'. "What in the Pit is this?"

"Eh?" Megatron frowned. "I haven't told you anything yet!"

"You underestimate my powers," the CMO informed loftily. "Fool, you must be glitched. You did comm me. "


"I never expected you to tire him out," the medic grizzled, eyeing the lifeless sparkling. "What did you do?"

This could be the perfect opportunity to lie and potentially save himself from Wrath, should there be any.

"…It wasn't me," he admitted. "But somebody- er, did something."

Ratchet wearily scratched his faceplates. "You are pointless."

"I know."

"Give him here," the medic demanded, hand already awaiting the seekerlet.

Megatron carefully passed Starscream over.

Ratchet prodded him- not Megatron, Starscream- and narrowed his optics disapprovingly at the lack of response. "You fool," the medic hissed, fist waving as close as he could get it to Megatron's face. This involved standing on the tips of his pedes in a rather childish fashion.

Not that Ratchet could ever be accused of being childish if you valued your life.

"I didn't do it," Megatron protested, feeling extremely childish and thus reducing himself to the CMO's (unofficial) level.

"If a child were not present I would disembowel you and feed you to a compressor. Then I'd gather your neatly squashed parts and hack them up with my buzzsaw. Slowly. Once I had finished, I would kick you. Hard. Repeatedly. Against a wall. You'd bounce, Megatron, and it would be satisfying to observe your lack of dignity. 'Ha ha ha,' I would laugh. I would laugh loudly, Megatron, so even your damaged audio receptors could receive the sound. Then I would give you to Starscream so that he could chew you. Perhaps to Skywarp so he could teleport into the sky and drop you from however high up he fancies. Maybe Thundercracker could lie on top of you and use you as bedding. Then I might see if Ironhide would shoot you out of his cannons into a molten Pit of shame. Finally, I would present you to Jazz. He'd take you everywhere he went, Megatron. You would have no capacity to mobilise yourself. You would be stuck with inane nonsensical chattering for the rest of your life." Ratchet paused, then seemed to realise that none of this was possible, as Starscream was indeed present. He turned to the seekerlet with a frown. "Child, I dislike you."

Megatron didn't quite know what to say. "You have issues, Ratchet."

"You are one of them."

"My pleasure."

"Watch it," the medic warned. "My patience is nearing its limit."

Megatron chose not to make a smart-afted comment about Ratchet's patience. "So why is he all lifeless?"

"I take it some idiot, if not you, prodded him about here?" The CMO gestured in the direction of Starscream's wing nubs.


Somehow discarding the laws of gravity and all differences in height, a scowling Ratchet violently beat Megatron on the side of his helm.

"Ow," Megatron said.

"Be a mech." Displeased, Ratchet hit him again.

Megatron suffered his punishment in a more dignified silence.

This seemed to satisfy the medic; for the moment the battering ceased. "Why did you think it was appropriate to hand your charge over to somebody else?"

"He said he knew how to calm him down," Megatron reasoned. "Believe me, beige was making a scene."

"That isn't good enough," Ratchet dismissed. "You are responsible for Starscream- as responsible as you were for Optimus. Would you have handed your brother over?"

Megatron bristled, the answer obvious.

"If it is your temporary duty to look after him, then do it properly."

"I didn't know," the larger mech said, the statement heavy. "I didn't know. Is he functional?"

Ratchet considered the flaccid sparkling. "He should be."

Megatron exhaled shortly in relief.

"A caution," the CMO said. "You're not let off that easily. Don't do it again. If it is done too frequently over too long a period, cases of mental instability have been noted."

"Why so?"

"Impulses from the point of contact are sent to the processor, annulling and numbing all response and severely delaying reaction time, thus its use as some form of sedation. When not under the influence of this technique, behaviours can become more erratic."

"More erratic?" Megatron snorted. "Impossible."

"There are some reports of bipolar Seekers," Ratchet continued, more to himself than to anybody else. "And yet nobody realised the cause. The Seekers were so wild and unreasonable that they were culled."

Megatron accepted the proffered sparkling back.

"What can I do?"

"There isn't anything you can do. You had better hope that this hasn't happened too many times before."

"You're serious? That single poke could have turned him insane?"

"Don't be flippant," Ratchet hissed.

Starscream twitched slightly and faintly narrowed his optics with a soft growl.

"I didn't know," Megatron protested guiltily.

"I hope he holds it against you forever," the medic informed. "I almost hope he will be batty; then I can beat you for it daily."

Starscream's listless state persisted for a good while, and Megatron became extremely concerned for his sure-to-be-terrorised future self.

"Come back," he nearly whined (Megatron does not whine, being Megatron and all), prodding the now recharging seekerlet gently. "Do you realise the extent to which they'll mock me if they see you like this?"

Starscream most arrogantly did not respond.

"I'll kill you," the silver mech tried hopefully.

Beige clearly didn't believe him.

Megatron pouted and thought harder about his persuasive techniques. "Jazz will take pity on you. And then he'll jump at you, Starscream, and I won't save you."

A sudden vvvvvvwoosh of a door caught his attention: the torture was to begin.

"Megs!" Optimus cried, prancing through with Ironhide trying to maintain a dignified gait behind- although this was somewhat ruined by the blue Seeker splodged across his shoulder armour- "Thundercracker spoke-"

Now that was stunning.

"He spoke? What did he say?"

"Affirmative," the Prime nodded enthusiastically to the former question. "He groaned at us, like this-" and the most important mech on Cybertron screwed up an optic with the effort of accurately reproducing the sound- "'hurhhghh'."

Megatron thought about this a moment. "...I thought you said he spoke-?"

"It's close!" Optimus insisted. "Quite an achievement; he hasn't done it since."

Ironhide's cannons swivelled in support, but Megatron did not quite know what to say.

"So Megs- you and Starscream had an equally thrilling orn?"


"Ah'm comin'!" announced a disturbingly familiar voice from the corridor. "Th' bes' fam's comin'!"

Megatron massaged his nasal plating wearily and debated internally whether he had enough energy to deal with this.

"Prowl, how do you cope?" he enquired sincerely as a silver blur twirled incessantly through the doorway.

"I have various coping mechanisms," the tactician replied, entering more cautiously with Skywarp on his helm. "Denial works rather well."

Megatron glanced down as something suddenly nudged his hand gently, and found Starscream suddenly coughing and hacking next to it.

Before he could even react or embarrass himself by doing something silly like declaim that his Seeker was indeed alive, the seekerlet stilled, then twittered to himself before dropping something into Megatron's claws.

The mech sighed at the something: scrap metal. "You carried it all of that time?"

Starscream blinked up at him, eagerly awaiting a response.

"Oh Primus, do you want praise for something so inane? Beige, this is just another failing in a long string of failures. Why do I feel like this won't be the last utter retardation you thrust in my direction?"

Ironhide laughed, the volume of the sound causing the seekerlets to twitch.

Megatron cast him a withering glance. "At least mine has something to give me other than a groan."

"Oh, yours now?"

Megatron felt like beating his face into something sharp. Perhaps Optimus would be persuaded/tricked into unsubspacing one of his swords- then again, the mech would probably blame himself for his brother's then deformed face, and be forever morose and guilty-looking.

No, that would not do.

Megatron was about to consider his other options when Jazz's hands were clasped together suddenly with a whoop. (Oh no.)

"Megsy knows his baby's his baby!"

"I do not have a 'baby'."

Optimus waved a hand. "You did say he was 'yours'."

"I am going to kill you all," Megatron informed with a wonderful sense of calm.

"You wouldn't kill me," Optimus replied cheerfully.

"Yer can't kill Jazzeh!" Jazz cried exuberantly, twirling neatly. "Ah'll jus' come bahk!"

Starscream squawked.

"Starscream doesn't think you will," Megatron sniped childishly.

"So yer know wha' yer baby's sayin' now?" Jazz returned speedily.

"You're going to die," the large mech growled.

"All yer ever do is give death threats," the saboteur dismissed airily. "Yer'll never carry 'em out. An' yer givin' Starscream a bad infl'unce."

"Prowl," Megatron nearly breathed, "tell me you have found the sparklings' creators."

"Afraid I can't." Prowl sounded just as faint. "No work today."

"What on Cybertron-"

Jazz beamed and flickered his visor in a bright wink. "Ah took t'liberty of abusin' Prowlie!"

Ratchet massaged his nasal plates. "Please continue that utterance."

"Ah abused Prowlie's work schedule," he delightedly informed. "No work!"

Prowl twitched.

"Prowlie couldn't ignore meh," Jazz added.

"Prowlie wishes he could," the tactician whispered. "Prowlie would give anything."

"Aw Prowlie," the silver mech beamed, "ah love yer."

"If you love me, then you surely want me to be happy."


"So give me my work back," Prowl reasoned.

Jazz considered this. "Ah see yer point, Prowlie-owl. But ah don't wan'us t'be a dysfunctional fam'ly like Megsy. Yer must put yer work aside aft'a certain time."

The black and white mech thought, then extended his hand with a nod. "Deal."

Jazz bypassed the hand and leapt at him with a gurgle. "PROWLIE!"

Skywarp VOPped between them at the last second- as the two mechs collided, there was an additional crash as the sparkling was crushed in the middle.

"Lovely," Prowl said.

"Beige," Megatron said calmly, "I am very glad you are retarded as you are and not retarded like your fellows."

Starscream bit his claw with a quiet growl.

"At least Thundercracker doesn't eat us," Optimus pointed out.

"But he doesn't do anything."

"Ironhide, don't be cruel."

"It's true," the black mech insisted. "He's equally useless."

"Skywarp doesn't have a use either," Optimus argued.

"How dare yer!" Jazz roared. "Prime or no, ah'll fight yer fer tha'!" He sprang out in front of Optimus, bending his knees slightly in some martial arts pose.

Ironhide was already there, black bulk directly in Jazz's face. "Get away."

"Be a mech!" the saboteur howled, undeterred.

Optimus presumed this was aimed at him and not in fact at his bodyguard's abdomen. "Jazz, be reasonable."

"Nevah! Y'insult mah fam's honour, an-"

"Back away," Ironhide insisted, stepping forwards and effectively thrusting his armour into Jazz's face, with the intent of forcing the stubborn mech backwards.

Jazz bent in an awkward looking U-shape as he strived to avoid stepping backwards. "This'll nevah be settled! Our childer's childer's childers will war- d'you want tha'?"

Optimus attempted to ignore the enraged ranting.

"I am so sorry," Prowl said, overcome with shame.

"He isn't your fault," Megatron justified. "He belongs with the loonies."

"Then he's in the right place," Ratchet cackled, appearing from apparently nowhere.

Damn the mech. He inexplicably and consistently appeared whenever somebody had set themselves up verbally.

"Starscream belongs w'th'loonies!" Jazz retorted. "He's chewin' yer away-"

Optimus cackled as his brother futilely attempted to manoeuvre his claws away from the persistent sparkling.

"It isn't Starscream's fault that Megatron looks like a chew-toy," Ratchet pointed out. "And you can't comment, Optimus. You were the same."

"Lies!" Prime cried. "I didn't eat Megatron."

"I beg to differ."

"Beg all you like," Optimus allowed graciously. "I am above it. Aren't I, Megsy?"

"Of course you are," Megatron said, flicking Starscream in the face to a snarl.

"That sounded a little vicious," Ironhide remarked.

"Oh no, he's just playing."

"You hear meh?" Jazz was continuing to Ironhide's plating. "Yer'll regret th'orn-"

A sudden and unexpected thwock attracted their attentions, followed more strikingly by a high-pitched squeal.

"NOWLOOKWHA'YERDONE," Jazz howled at Optimus. "YER HAPPY?"

Skywarp was clutching his helm tearfully.

Thundercracker dropped the wrench and promptly returned to recharge.

"Whoops," Ratchet said under his breath. "No idea how he found that."

A near hysterical Jazz was about to scoop Skywarp up when the sniffling black sparkling resolutely prodded Thundercracker.

It was unsurprising that the latter did not move or respond.

"Ow," Megatron hissed, a bent claw twitching in pain after a particularly nasty Starscream-bite. "You filthy little-"

"I thought he was 'playing'."

"He's sharp," the mech complained. "You should try him."

Optimus poked Thundercracker morosely. "Has he died?"

Ironhide powered up a cannon in the sparkling's face, and they watched intently as the blue light throbbed and pulsated beside the tiny creature.

"If you shoot him, do you think he will move?" Optimus asked.

"I don't know," the black mech replied thoughtfully, cannon rotating.

One of the blue sparkling's optics cracked open at the soft clunk the weapon made.

"He's alive," Optimus whispered.

"Indeed," Ironhide agreed gravely.

"Do you think he's going to move?"

"I doubt it very much."

With a slow, deliberate movement, the seekerlet yawned. In mid-yawn, his mouth slowly moved upwards in a lazy arc until he fastened it around the rim of the cannon.

Ironhide shook it gently. "No, TC."

Jazz was worried. "'hide, yer cannon might go off."

"What do you take me for?" the black mech demanded. "My cannons will not go off without my say-so."

"Well, ah took yer fer trigger-happy."

Ironhide returned his attention to the more pressing problem; Thundercracker had closed his optic and looked as dead as ever.

"No, TC," Ironhide firmly repeated as Optimus prodded the sparkling firmly. "Chewing weaponry is not appropriate."

Opening the optic again, Thundercracker considered this idea before refastening his mouth around the rim of the cannon.

"Release my weaponry!"

"I did that once," Optimus informed the lax sparkling before gesturing to his faceplate. "Blew up in my face. That's why I wear this; I'm hideously scarred."

He was abruptly cuffed around the helm, the sudden movement causing Thundercracker to release the cannon and splat onto the ground.

"Optimus! Don't make up stories like that!"

Ratchet jabbed a stern finger at Jazz, who was returning to his Skywarp-grab. "No."


"Enough molly-coddling," the CMO hissed dangerously. "They may be seekerlets now, but one orn they will be true Seekers. Will you let them interact, for Primus' sake?"

Jazz looked so miserable that Prowl tentatively patted him on the shoulder. Predictably, the saboteur grabbed him around the waist with a soft wail.

"You call that interaction?" Ironhide demanded, as Skywarp poked Thundercracker repeatedly. "Inane."

"Shut up," Ratchet said. "If they're going to be a trine then they'll need to bond."

"Bond-bond?" Jazz hissed in alarm, helm unburrowing from Prowl's stiffly held chassis with optics wide.

The medic would have thrown a wrench if there was any chance it would not have rebounded off the poor tactician.

Meanwhile, Skywarp persisted.

Now, Skywarp was an odd little sparkling.

He saw the world in bright lights and pretty colours, and if it wasn't bright or pretty then he wasn't overly interested unless it was a special case (like Thundercracker). Whilst he cared little for most things, like nearly all youngsters he did care about being ignored. And when Skywarp dedicated himself to something, he did it with all of his little Spark with single-minded determination, devoting his energy in its boundless entirety to the task's completion.

Thundercracker did not really stand a chance, but he valiantly continued his lethargy.

Megatron cast a sideways glance at Starscream and found the seekerlet was already looking at him. At first he simply believed that they were sharing another now customary look of 'oh dear', but-

The mech watched thoughtfully as Starscream twitched his winglets and flicked his helm towards his fellow uselesses. Seeing no response, the sparkling fixed him with a sharp glare and yapped.

Somehow it seemed to fit into place; beige was asking for permission.

"Get lost," Megatron granted. "Go and show them who the boss is."

And I am off to have a well-earned session on Assassin's Creed to congratulate myself on my first cracky update in about ten months. Nothing like assassinating terribly misinformed fools to make yourself feel good!

At any rate, hope this was about up to standard! See you all soon, beautiful people. :D I'm going to try and make updates much more regular.

Next chapter;

The Seekers do fluffy things!
Ratchet finally gets his paws upon them!
Jazz will be sane!
And Soundwave lurks about doing creepy things with tentacles!

(One of the above is false. ;) )