This was orinally to be a one shot! Instead it will be 4 chapters because someone yelled at me through cyberspace to post the damn thing! lol Oh yeah, she knows who she is! :P Hope you like it girl!

This is just a crack one shot inspired by Phoenix13 and her line where Elita contemplates welding Optimus crotch plate in Scent of the Future and also Plenoptic's idea of datapads with 'flattering pictures of femmes' (their version of playboy I suppose) on Jetfire's work desk in Things Not Spoken. Thanks for the dirty thoughts girls! :P

So we have Optimus and Jetfire just being their relaxed selves. Let's see what trouble they get into. And oh…the femme wins in the end. Just thought I'd toss that out there.

Author's notes: italics denote comlink chatter

Mechs Will Be Mechs

For once his afternoon was free. Free of meetings with the humans or Autobots. Free of disciplinary meetings – mainly because Prowl had already thrown the twins in the brig for fighting while on duty. And free of those fragging datapads that seemed to multiply faster than mechano-bunnies during mating season.

Optimus was free to do whatever he wanted! An opportunity like this didn't come that often so he wanted to take full advantage of it.

"Prowl, you're in charge. I'm taking the remainder of the day off. I'm to be contacted only if there's an emergency," he said over a private comlink to his second in command.

"Acknowledge, Sir. I'll make a note in my day's report. I'm sure Ratchet will be ecstatic to hear you're taking a break."

"I'm sure he'll find something else to bitch about during my next maintenance exam, Prime out."

After checking his inbox to make sure no datapads spontaneously appeared, he practically bounced up and bound happily out of his office and across the hall into his sparkmate's office, closing the door behind him. There Elita-One, bondmate, love of his life, his reason for living, other than the Autobots of course, working diligently on her computer.

It didn't matter what Elita was doing…recharging, working or shooting the slag out of 'Cons, Optimus always found her beautiful. No femme ever made his spark flutter wildly in its chamber like Elita did. But it wasn't only her physical beauty that turned him on. No, she was feisty, stubborn, strong, intelligent...his equal. And he loved it!

He sighed heavily. Just thinking about what he wanted to do to her in his time off caused his interface systems to slowly warm up.

However, the femme Commander seemed so engrossed in her work that she didn't even notice his presence. Undeterred, Optimus gracefully slinked his large frame around behind her and placed his strong large hands on her shoulders and began delicately massaging them.

Bending over, he whispered into her audio receptor, "You're so tense my love."

Then he brushed his lips tenderly over her audio receptor, slowly working their way down to her neck and over her shoulder. One hand even dared to slide over her budding breast plate. One finger snuck beneath the plating, caressing the sensitive protoform skin beneath.

"Optimus! Not now! I'm busy," she growled, yanking his groping hand and probing finger away.

"I've got the afternoon off. You can use a break…fifteen minutes…just a quick interface? It will relax you enough so you can keep working."

"Primus almighty, Optimus, is that all you can think about lately? Every night for the past week you've been asking me for an interface!"

"Not every night," he said in his defense. "I didn't last night."

"Because I was already in recharge when you finally came to bed."

"Well, you kind of went to bed early," he said, sounding annoyed by that fact. Honestly, how is he supposed to woo his femme if she's recharging?!

Elita sighed in frustration.

"Listen, Optimus, I'm sorry. Things have just been chaotic for me trying to train the new femmes who landed a couple of weeks ago and keep mechs with overactive interface systems away from them. Thankfully Prowl and Jazz have been good at keeping Sunny and Sides away. Although I'm not sure how long that will last."

"I understand," he pouted, feeling a bit rejected…again.

"You really are adorable when you stick you bottom lip out like that," she smirked up at him. "In a few days things will die down for me then I'll frag you as much as you want for as long as you want. Ok?"

"Ok," he sighed.

"Love you."

"Love you too," he said, kissing her cheek, keeping his disappointment to himself. She did have enough to worry about. She didn't need him acting like a spoiled youngling around her.

He could do that elsewhere!

From there, Optimus wandered straight to Jetfire's lab. He figured his best friend would be up for some fun or anything since that was the epitome of Jetfire. Up for ANYTHING at ANYTIME!

"Uh…don't tell me, Elita shot you down again," Jetfire said the moment he laid optics on his buddy.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You're glistening and your interface systems are overheated."

"I don't glisten!" he snapped. But then hesitantly asked, "Do I?"

"Nah," Jetfire chuckled. "It was a joke. But you could use a good overload. When's the last time Elita topped you off?"

"Three weeks!"

"You poor mech! That's bad! Have you thought of self interfacing? Quickest way to get rid of that excess stress!"

"I'm not going to do that. I have a mate. Besides, Elita would be offended."

"It's not like she'd find out about it."

"Trust me, she'd know!"

"Oh, right. You're bonded now. Too bad I had some new material you could have used to help!" Jetfire smiled, opening a draw and pulling out one of his 'special' datapads. He showed it to Optimus with a devilish smirk. "Sexy, right?"

"Ak! Jetfire! I don't need to see that!" Optimus exclaimed, covering his optics.

"She doesn't do it for you," he mused, looking at a protoformed femme provocatively posing. "Not to fear, I've got others that might be more to your liking!"

Optimus could hear several more datapads getting pulled out of the desk drawer and placed on the desk for display. He dared to peek. But one peek was more than enough to see the dozen or so pictures of femmes in various positions all naked by their standards.

"NO! Put those away!"

"Primus, she's not going to know you looked at them. When did you become such a prude? We used always look at the femmes together."

"I matured, Jetfire. Something of which you are totally incapable of."

"Well if maturing is getting bonded and being held on a leash by a femme them I'm glad I'm still immature."

"Elita does not hold me on a leash!" Optimus snapped angrily, his good mood totally gone.

"I'll prove it," Jetfire smirked, holding up his hand he raised one finger. "One, she doesn't let you go racing like we used. Two, she doesn't let you drink as much high grade as you want."

"That's not true!"

"'No, Opt honey, you've had enough,'" Jetfire mimicked Elita's voice and tone perfectly. "And she took the cup away and gave it to Ironhide. I know. I was there when she did that."

"You were so drunk how can you remember that?" Optimus asked in disbelief.

"Talent," Jetfire smiled.

Optimus glared at his 'so called' best friend.

"Three," he said, holding up a third finger. "She won't let you have any kind of mech fun. When is the last time you just hung around with us mechs without your femme hanging off your armor or checking on you to make sure you were being a good little mech?"

"First of all, Elita isn't that affectionate in public and doesn't hang off my armor. Second, I have the afternoon off to do whatever I want. And I wanted to do something fun. That's why I came to see you. Now you've gone and pissed me off!"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Jetfire exclaimed, running to cut Optimus off before he left. "Look, buddy, I'm sorry. I know you love Elita more than anything in the universe. But I'm still your best friend. I love you like a brother. You're still the same mech you were when I first met you. You just…well to use a human analogy, you don't come out and play like you used to. And well…I kind of miss it. No one really knows how to let it rip like you and me. Come on, we put those twins, Sunny and Sides, to shame. They're not even remotely in our league."

"I seem to recall, Sentinel giving me hell for letting it rip whenever you and I were together," Optimus smiled. Then he sighed heavily. "I admit, I miss it too. Unfortunately, I'm Prime now. I have many more responsibilities."

"Don't forget, you're still Optimus," Jetfire seriously said, poking Optimus in the chest. "You have a responsibility to yourself. It's not going to hurt to have a little fun every now and then. I know Ratchet would love for you to relax from your duties every so often."

"Yes, he reminds me every chance he gets," Optimus groaned rubbing his forehead. Then he smirked at his friend, "So, what fun do you have in mind?"

"One sec!" Jetfire exclaimed then hurried over and opened up a locked supply cabinet. "This is my special brew. I save it for such occasions."

Optimus watched curiously as Jetfire subspaced several canisters of his 'special' brew of high grade. When he was done he locked the cabinet back up and turned to Optimus.

"Let's go have some fun!"

"Where are we going?"

"If I tell you then it wouldn't be any fun."

"I need to tell Prowl my whereabouts…"

"For frags sake Optimus, he's not your sparkling sitter! You're Prime and you can do anything you want. Besides, you don't need to tell him. I'll be with you covering you back if we get into trouble. And no one's better at covering your back than the Jetster."

"Elita is," Optimus sighed, still pouting about getting rejected by his love.

"You're hopeless!" Jetfire groaned and then hauled Optimus out of his lab and straight outside. There Jetfire transformed into his gleaming white shuttle form.

"Get on!"

Optimus complied against his better judgment. Once his massive form was draped over the shuttle Jetfire shot off with a screaming YEEHAW that had Optimus clinging onto his friend's wings for dear life.

"Hey! Careful with the wings! They're sensitive!"

"Serves you right for taking off like that fragger!"

Jetfire merely laughed which only made Optimus grumble even more. However, by the time they reached the Bonneville Salt Flats Prime was back to being in a good mood. He had to remind himself that this was for fun and to enjoy it.

"So, Jet…you figure out how to land yet when carrying someone?"


"I take it that's a no," Optimus frowned as the white ground below was getting closer and closer, faster and faster. "Well, just slow down enough for me to jump off."

"I have an idea! Whatever happens, don't let go!"

"This can't be good," Optimus softly mumbled.

"I heard that!"

Jetfire's air speed decreased rapidly as the nose of his flight form tilted up at an angle. Then suddenly the mech started transform. Armor shifted. Servos whined. Optimus lost his grip on the fuselage only because it shifted and slide to form Jetfire's body. But the wings slid up which were actually easier to hold on to.

"This might work," Jetfire said, setting his feet out with reverse thrusters on now to slow their descent.

One problem. While Jetfire had performed this move many times on his own, he never tried it with so much added weight. As a result he didn't use enough reverse thrust and the duo came in for a landing a lot fast than expected.

The result was…laughable.

Four feet hit the ground hard and running. The two large peds behind, not used to having to suddenly start sprinting like that, clipped the ground with a toe catapulting Optimus' heavier form forward. Because Jetfire told him to not let go, whatever happens, the air commander lost his footing from the added weight and belly flopped on the hard surface then skidded several meters before coming to a stop.

"OW! Frag!" Jetfire laughed. "I suddenly feel so sorry for Elita when you guys are interfacing if she's on bottom! She must feel squished because I do!"

"Well, I've never body slammed her," Optimus chuckled sliding off Jetfire and getting to his feet. Then he helped Jetfire up to his feet. "And…well, I let Elita be on top most of the time so I don't accidentally squish her during the heat of passion."

"We can't have that happen, can we?" Jeftfire teased, pulling out the high grade. "Drink up. Then we'll race. I'll even give you a head start."

"On the race or the drinking?" Optimus asked, taking a canister.

"Relax, we're here to have fun."

And fun they had. Optimus could not honestly recall the last time he roared his engine to maximum without being chased by a Decepticon. He knew he could never out race a flyer. That wasn't the point. The point was to just let it rip and have a good time. And they did…until they ran out of High Grade.

"SSlag!" Jetfire slurred. "Should have brought morrre."

"There's more back at the basse," Optimus grinned, swaying where he stood.

"Itss getting dark too. Let's go."

Optimus watched Jetfire walking for a moment. Then looked around trying to recall how they got out here in the middle of the salt flats.

"Hey Jet! Why the frag are you walkingg?"

"I'm heading back too base! We neeed High Grade!"

"Let's fly numbnodess!"

"Oh yeahhh," Jetfire giggled.

Up next, back at the base