REACH FOR THE SKY 6
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I own Transformers. What I own is this lil' story, however crazy is is /happy smirk/
Shout Out: I thank the people who sent me the prompts (You guys and gals seriously rock,) and apologize for being horribly late. Also, the main culprit in kick-starting this series again was my ever helpful beta, MHB, this chapter is dedicated to her as her birthday gift. Happy birthday, MHB and I wish you many happy years! And crikey, guys...and gals.../is dazed/ I Did It. As from this day on, I am a Logistics Engineer. This lil' title was the main culprit for not being seen nor hide nor hair of me on this site for so long, but I finished the college! /wide grin/. Hopefully now I will have some more time to write - anyway, Crimson Sagittarius will be the next one to be updated, as for the others, I still have to write them through.
Warnings: Meggie - ahem, Megatron torture via various means and devices. You don't need old-fashioned medieval torture chamber for getting Lord Megatron in trouble. /wide smirk/ Read on and see for yourself. Enjoy!
Hermione smirked smugly at the three uncomfortable men in front of them. Oh yeah, revenge was sweet, indeed. She felt a little guilty for involving both Starscream and Megatron in her tiff with Barry Cade - actually, the only innocent- ahem, relatively innocent - one was Megatron, but she ruthlessly pushed the guilt in the back of his head.
"So...the question now is just what can you do for me in order for me to keep your secret." She drawled, smirking like one particularly ferrety Malfoy.
The three mechs looked at each other.
Was it or was it not worth it to keep her thinking that they were super-secret agents?
Megatron winced as a spike of pain lanced through his skull. It was an annoying sensation, like someone was flaying his circuits with an electrical whip… directly. Grimacing, he massaged his temple as if to assuage the pain, when the sensation bolted through his nerves again.
"Megatron?" Harry asked him, green eyes looking at the mech with concern. "Are you alright? They were sitting in a booth in Florean Fortescue's, waiting for Hermione to finish her insane book-shopping spree after she had surprisingly managed to drag along both Starscream and Barricade, much to their horrified dismay. This woman was a beast in human disguise when it concerned any kind of knowledge, and it really didn't help that they had to refer to her as Mistress, garnering many weird looks in process. Megatron managed to evade the shopping expedition via the fact he had to… ahem, accompany Harry to Gringotts to deal with some business. (A bald-faced lie - Megatron just shamelessly used his rank to order both of the sulking ex-'Cons to go with one sadistically happy Miss Granger while he shamelessly hogged one oblivious Mr Potter.)
"I have a processor ache." Megatron managed to get out, wincing again as he clenched his eyelids shut, as he shoved in his mouth another mouthful of that divine goodness.
Harry eyed him exasperatedly.
"Of course you do. How many times have I told you not to gobble your ice cream so quickly?" The wizard sighed a long-suffering sigh. "It won't melt, you know." He pointed out wearily.
Megatron glared at him. "Ice always melts." He continued to gobble the frozen goodness down. "And it's hundred thirty and seventh time.
Harry blinked. "Hundred thirty and seventh?" he asked, confused. Megatron nodded and promptly winced at the movement. "You told me, quote, not to gobble my ice cream, unquote, I believe.
The green eyed wizard sighed. "Figures you would remember that and still gobble it down like it's going out of style."
Either his explanation of ever-freezing charms sucked that much or Megatron was just plain masochist.
Meanwhile, Megatron resolved to master these processor aches even if it killed him. Nothing, and he meant nothing, defeated Lord of Deceptions, much less a measly processor freeze acquired via … enthusiastic gobbling down of ice cream.
'Sides, the ice cream was delicious.
"Here." Harry blinked as Barricade thrust a small flower with uniquely colored petals at him. Well, it wasn't every day Harry saw true blue orchid with hints of violet a the edges.
"Um, wow." He stammered as he accepted the plant, confused. "But why?"
Barricade shrugged nonchalantly "Saw it and it reminded me of you."
He didn't mention that it cost him some wheedling and much of his personal pride, lost to one Miss Granger just to find out which flower was Harry's favorite.
All the pain and trauma he had acquired in the process of gathering the required information was forgotten as soon he saw the small smile on his squishy's face.
Meanwhile, one Neville Longbottom was confused because in the greenhouse where he grew the Sky Orchids, there were some big tracks, as if a Yeti of some kind would trudge through the place. While he was counting the number of specimens, his feeling of confusion turned into feeling of being frantic as one of the precious, irreplaceable plants had just vanished. It didn't help that Luna just laughed and said the missing plant was in safe servos.
Just what the heck were 'servos', anyway?
While Megatron loved ice cream, he absolutely hated and loathed ice. Who wouldn't, after being frozen for almost half a millennia, and not being able to move for the same length of time? So he was understandably apprehensive when it came to ice-skating.
And he was right.
For all his… grace in the air and on the ground, he absolutely sucked at ice-skating, much to Barricade and Starscream's glee.
Fragging aft-heads, the both of them.
Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver.
Or, in this case, duct tape was just priceless.
"So, ready to send the parcel off?" Starscream asked, grinning. His two compatriots smirked.
"Hell, yeah." Megatron rumbled, satisfaction evident in his voice.
It took some persuasion, a good-sized crate, one besotted 'gift' and at least two million of those small, plastic, sticky things called 'tape', but the 'gift' in question was ready.
One Optimus Prime wouldn't know what hit him.
The human practice of exchanging peace offerings was underrated, seriously.
The scene was…surprisingly domestic, Harry supposed. He never would have thought that his life after war would have involved three metallic behemoths playing Scrabble in his living room in their holo-forms, but he couldn't muster the discontent to protest the picture, even if they blatantly cheated, what with using the Cybertronian language.
Shame he couldn't cheat with Parseltongue, though, but there simply wasn't enough required 's' and 'h' tiles in the game pack.
The guy nights surely were fantastic, Harry thought drunkenly, especially - He arched into the warm touch, groaning wantonly as he was divested of his other pieces of clothes.
"Wait - not in the rules -" He meant to say that, but what come out of his throat was a low , needy whine as the warm - so very warm -hands glided over his skin, into his hair, and someone's face nuzzled in his throat, making him shudder at the wet swipe of someone's tongue, and someone's hands slid lower and under and he jerked as they touched him - touched and grasped and moved - Harry nearly lost his breath at the sensation, so much better than his own hand, so strong so sensitive so pleasurable –
He arched, jerked, tried to catch his breath and at the same time hold it in as the warmth in his lower belly began pooling in, swirling into one loose ball of pleasure which then contracted and relaxed and with each movement, it contracted tighter, hotter, more, making him mewl in desperation as he half-listened to those purrs and clicks and humming and then, it contracted to the point of being painful, so painful he couldn't hold it in anymore, this white-hot, intense ball of sensation and he choked out half-yell and half whine as the ball imploded - inside and outside in a great rush of lightfeelingrelease it made him twitch helplessly, his body under the command of pleasure so intense he almost blacked out, barely registering the wet feeling on his stomach.
Yeah, Harry concluded, guy nights were the best. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, surrounded with content clicks, purrs and whirrs.
Starscream scowled. This was just… icky. He didn't have any other word for it, but it was! He understood that to blend in he had to wear clothes - it was a given - but that redheaded little tart - ahem, one Ginny Weasley managed to dirty his shirt with ice cream, and even after apologizing for it, he was sure he caught a small smirk behind her remorseful façade. She fretted and apologized, but the damage was already done.
The problem in question was, that his… garment was… different, and he really didn't want to touch those icky things he was presented with. No it was not a matter of principle - Well, yes, it was, but the fabric was just horrid. It itched against his skin, and Starscream was sure that this… itch was not natural, besides that horrid orange color. It was as if someone was running an iron brush over his wings - shudder - or using fingernails on a chalkboard. Double ick. But for the sake of propriety, he had to wear at least something - Mrs Weasley was a formidable woman when it came to enforcing the rules in her house – and Starscream grimaced, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the thought of him being in that icky, itchy, and just plain horrid excuse for a fabric.
What? It wasn't his fault his skin was sensitive, thank you very much!
A hesitant knock on the door made for a small reprieve from his depressing thoughts about getting a rash via that… excuse for a piece of clothing.
"Starscream?" Harry's voice came through. "May I come in?"
The Seeker sighed. "Yeah." He called back, as he glared at the offending fabric, willing it to burn. Sadly, the cloth mockingly stayed the same.
"Heard you got into a mishap with ice cream." Harry's voice made him grunt in acknowledgement. "So I made a quick-trip – Whoa!"
Harry yelped as he found himself in a fervent embrace of one ecstatic Seeker.
"Thank Primus." Starscream breathed in Harry's hair as he snuggled deeper into him, closing his eyes in contentment.
Hesitantly, the squishy's organic arms embraced him back. "It's okay, Star." Harry murmured back and Starscream shivered as the warm breath hit his naked skin.
Five minutes later, the two emerged - Starscream smugly wearing a dark gray and red sleeveless shirt, with Harry being flushed, irritated and his hair more messy than usual.
Starscream's thank-you snuggle for getting him Harry's favorite silk shirt was just overkill in Harry's humble opinion. (Not that he didn't enjoy it… secretly. What was with the 'Cons being a snuggly and cuddly lot with him?)
And why was Ginny glaring at the smirking Seeker, anyway?
Usually, the Deceptions were the ones termed as villains, and rarely were they the ones to rescue anything.
However, it seemed that Crookshanks decided to play gentlecat in distress, as he somehow made a way up the tree, and having no clue in the world just how to come down.
Harry had received Hermione's frantic call on a hot July afternoon, and that killed all the plans one wizard and the 'Con trio had for the day. Apparently Crookshanks dodged the summoning charms, and instead of going to the lower branches, he only went up and up, and Hermione wasn't the one for climbing trees and would they just come and help her poor darling?
"So…who will get the furball?" Megatron asked bored, as he looked at the tree, while Harry was on the side, trying to calm down hysterically crying bushy-haired witch who was bawling about her 'baby'.
"Not me. I'm a grounder." Barricade immediately de-volunteered.
"And because you're a grounder, you're perfect for this task." Starscream sniped back.
Barricade glared at him. "What the fuck does being a grounder has to do with ability of climbing trees?"
"As much as it does with being a Seeker." Starscream snapped back. "But you're still the best choice to climb up and get the cat down by default."
"Default, your malfunctioning rusty aft. You know what? Let's play Rock, Paper, Scissors. Whoever wins, has to get the furball." Barricade growled, making Starscream smirk at Megatron's absentminded nod.
"Why do I have to save the furball?" Megatrons' elegant complaint - read: whine - made the two Decepticons smirk smugly. "You won the Rock-Paper Scissors." Starscream replied candidly. Barricade smirked.
"Suck it up, Megsy, and get your aft up in the tree."
"You said to get my aft up in the tree, not to save the damn furball." Came Megatron's cranky voice from the tree.
The two 'Cons on the ground looked at their leader incredulously. "Seriously? Couldn't you tell us before that you can't tree-climb?" Starscream asked their esteemed leader exasperatedly.
Well, you really learn something new every day. Who would have known that almighty Megatron, the Lord of Deceptions, and the ex-High Protector of the Cybertron was absolute pants at tree climbing?
"Oh, for Unicron's sake, just grab the furball, throw it down and - "
Barricade's rant was interrupted by a furious howl of kitty's momma that made the trio cringe with pain in their audio processors.
"YOU WILL NOT THROW MY DARLING CROOKSHANKS ANYWHERE!"
Well, now they were at impasse.
In the end, the one who saved the day was - who else - one Harry James Potter. The messy-haired green-eyed still bespectacled young man looked at the tree, the furball clinging to the branch almost at the top of the tree and Megatron clinging to the trunk somewhere middle, sighed with exasperation, gently guided furious Hermione to wary Starscream's embrace, called up Barricade to give him a leg up, and then commenced Operation: Save The Tree Idiots.
He climbed easily, finding appropriate footholds effortlessly and soon reached and climbed above Megatron, until he reached the shaking orange ball of fur called Crookshanks.
Five minutes later, the feline was in his owner's tearful embrace, and Harry quietly instructed Megatron how to climb down the tree, which Megatron did with trepidation, but to his - and both land-bound Deceptions - he had done successfully.
"Oh Harry, you were wonderful!" Hermione gushed, her eyes big with adoration. "Thank you, I wouldn't know what to do without my Crooky." She nuzzled the still shaken cat gently, which also meowed a plaintive mew in thanks.
"Anytime, 'Mione." Harry replied gently. "Now, if you don't mind, we have plans, so…"
Hermione waved them away, still too engrossed in babying her precious kitty.
When they were in a safe distance away from kitty momma, Barricade finally managed to comment. "That was a piece of impressive climbing. Especially with rescuing Megatron." He needled their erstwhile leader who only growled in response, his cheeks flushing lightly with mortification.
Harry beamed a happy smile. "Really? Because that was my first time climbing a tree." He went ahead, leaving behind the three dumbstruck Decepticons staring after him.
"And that's why I hate heroes." Megatron groused out.
Starscream's newest obsession was…sewing. There was just something calming in stitching, pulling the needle into the fabric and then out, and watching how the creation of beautiful stitching under his fingers.
Both Barricade and Megatron cringed at the look of his creation. While Starscream had much enthusiasm, his creations were even worse than ones a kindergartener made.
The worst thing was, he intended to gift one of his… little…. projects to Harry, and knowing Harry, he would proudly wear the little creation of horror until it would fray to nothingness.
They swore, if – when - it would come to that, they would somehow confiscate the damn thing and burn it with all the prejudice needed to get the onerous task done.
Then, they only had to convince Starscream to find some more … appropriate hobby.
"NOOOO!" The ghoulish scream belonged to the one and only Starscream upon the finding that his precious stitching cloth was up in flames, with both Megatron and Barricade grinning at him sadistically.
Starscream sulked for the rest of the week, until Harry had enough and ordered the culprits to do something about it.
The next morning when Starscream came into the kitchen, he was confronted with two very contrite 'Cons, with a big box in the background.
And what do you know, his new gift was a sewing machine with many fashion magazines and sewing tips.
Happy Starscream equaled to a busy Starscream, and while Harry got complimented on his superbly made clothes, both Megatron and Barricade had to suffer through the horror of being models for female clothes, which were published in magazine for cross-dressers.
On the other side of the pond - ahem, ocean, Simmons looked at the picture of the pair of women lovingly. They were clad in classic Victorian getup, with some modern twists. The first one had smooth silver hair, and the second had a wild black mane, both red-eyed and clothed in carmine red and deep violet silk that showed off their legs and beautiful shoulders. "So strong. So … manly. So lovely." The agent shuddered in ecstasy as he looked at his intended loves. "Don't worry, darlings, papa will find you soon."
Somewhere in the England both Megatron and Barricade shuddered simultaneously.
"For some reason I'm feeling incredibly violated." Megatron muttered to Barricade while he was changing back in his clothes.
Barricade nodded. "Seconded."
Megatron would be the first to admit that he enjoyed making beings squirm –beings, because his list didn't count only those Autoslags, but also his underlings and of course squishies, both of magical and non – magical variety.
But this… dinner… with Autoslags' Witwacky was one such chance that warmed the cold cockles and valves of his non-existent heart. It was funny sight, watching the Witwacky jump and stammer and flinch in his presence, even if it earned him some of Harry's reproachful stares and under-the table kicks to the shin.
He smirked with glee as Harry offered Sam lodging for the night.
Subtle, sublime art of terrorizing the Autoslag's squishy, here he comes.
Sam's eyes bulged out with horror as the two mechs were joined by the third. The third one was the infamous Starscream, the one who had caused to Autobots many glitches with his ability to fly. Besides Megatron, Soundwave and Skywarp, Starscream was the most dangerous of the Decepticons just because he could fly, and as such cover more mileage than an average grounder, no matter how technologically advanced they were. Just on principle, Autobots would have lost if the two factions ever began serious hostilities against each other. Luckily, something happened that averted Megatron's attention from the Cube to something else - and Sam had a sneaking suspicion that something else wasn't the right word - but rather, someone else was.
Sam Witwicky was one very glitched human. That was a fact the Autobots had accepted, because who else would have accepted them so readily and not go blab their entire existence to newspapers and other media? Mikaela Barnes, his batch mate was glitched a little, too - had to be to stick up with him.
However, the Grand Glitch Prize undoubtedly belonged to one Harry James Potter, who was the owner - how in the Pit did that happen anyway? - of the three most dangerous Deceptions alive .
Lennox just admitted that he would have loved to have the bastard in his squad, because finding someone with cojones of diamonds to not only survive the terrible three but also own them was not someone he would have wished to meet as an opponent.
The Autobot Headquarters were currently in state of panic. The reason?
One Sam Witwicky having lunch with Megatron of all mechs and not only that, Starscream and Baricade. And no matter how much Sam reassured them that he was safe, that his… host, one Harry James Potter was a civil, polite bloke who was more than capable to rein his three…ahem, 'bots in check, theAutobots couldn't help but hyperventilate a little.
Ratchet was not amused with the heightened number of 'bots suddenly needing his services… but on the other servo, he had gotten to check some of the stubborn glitch-heads who evaded their health checks more than long enough.
Meanwhile, Optimus Prime and his small command team were contemplating how to forward the news, that one Samuel Witwicky was kind of kidnapped by kind of an opposing faction to his formidable, with iron baseball bat armed mother.
Jane Marie Witwicky's 'disciplinary overhauls' were not something any sane – or even insane - Autobot would wish upon their 'bot compatriots, but they would love to let her loose on Megatron's troublemaking aft all the same.
Jane Marie Witwicky was in full wrath mode. She had been looking forward to a nice evening, and a good homemade dinner with her husband and son, and there Sammy goes, getting himself kidnapped by those evil 'bots! She just knew that Autobots weren't good news, but for the sake of her son's happiness and – very minutely - Earth's safety, she let those elaborate tin buckets of rust take care of her darling son.
Oh no. Not anymore. She huffed as she clenched the bat in her hand, totally disregarding her husband who was trying to sneak away.
Whoever that Mega-scrap was, he better be prepared for some heavy handed discipline, via her trusty baseball bat. Nobody kidnapped her baby boy and got away with it!
Besides, interrogating that Ratchet fellow made for a very… interesting… conversation.
Megatron's first error this particular evening was that he thought he could get away with terrorizing one Ladiesman217 without feeling consequences. However, that proved to be a nearly fatal mistake, because when he was in middle of a particularly juicy baiting, his viewing channel winked offline and he had a terrible processor ache.
"Mum!" Megatron's… victim stared at the Amazon who held the well-known bat in her slender, delicate hands tightly, horrified. "I know he deserved it, but that was uncalled for!" Nobody dared to move in fear of attracting the wrath of the ferocious female – and her iron baseball bat - behind Megatron's chair.
Megatron's head was drowned in a soup dish, submerging some of his face, while the rest of the liquid was being splashed all over the desk, drenching Megatron's pullover and a part of his lap.
"This will be enough of your back talking, young man." Sam's mum snapped back. "I've left you to your shenanigans long enough. I didn't raise you to cavort with hooligans, metal ones or otherwise! Come here, we are going ho – "
"Auntie Mary?" The dreamy voice from the doorway stopped the lioness in the human guise cold, making her smile at one Luna Lovegood as if she was a harmless housewife (Yeah, right)
"Lulu, dear, how lovely of you to come help me. Let's get Sammy away from those good-for nothing ruffians."
Megatron glared blearily at the ceiling, not wanting to even look at the female squishy who dared to almost crash his cognitive processors into an unrecognizable mulch. "I am sorry, mister Megatron. I hadn't realized you didn't have any evil intentions toward my Sammy." Her eyes were big and glassy, shiny with that saline liquid the squishies called… what was it already?.. tears or something. Or was it snot? He was undecided…
'I have the urge to practically quarter her damned hellspawn, if it weren't for that Pit-damned bat thing of hers.' Megatron growled to himself in his head, making the two 'Cons choke in process.
"Of course not, Mrs. Witwicky. "He replied politely. "You just got the insane urge to clobber my poor head for some unfathomable reason. Witwicky, has anyone ever told you that your parental unit needs anger management classes?"
Harry, buy milk. - Barricade
I've bought three cartons last time. There should be two in the storeroom still. - Harry
Starscream drank it all, the glitch-head. - Barricade
Did not. You used it for your Cheerios. - Starscream
Barricade, go buy Cheerios. – Megatron
Do it yourself, Megs. - Barricade
Harry, I am in need of new Cheerios. - Megatron
And I need my Schweppes. - Starscream
Go buy it yourself, I am busy. - Harry
That was mean, Harry - Starscream
Mean? Mean was when you chugged down my last dose of coffee. THAT's the meaning of being mean. – Harry
But you are neglecting us. L – Starscream
And you are being mean. – Harry
Yeah, what he said. – Barricade
What, now it's a 'Gang on Starscream Day? - Starsream
Bingo, 'Creamer. How did you guess? - Megatron
My superior logic circuits, of course. I want my Schweppes. Now. - Starscream
I swear, you love that stuff more than a high-grade Energon. - Barricade
Servos off my Schweppes, 'Cade. I mean it. - Star
In your dream cycle, 'Creamer. By the way, you still owe me three cartons of milk, you leech. - 'Cade
I so do not. There wasn't your name on 'em, anyway - Star
Neither was yours on my Cheerios - Megatron
Winners keepers, losers weepers, Meggie. You're simply not being mean enough. - Barricade
DON'T call me that M name if you wish to see the next sunrise. – Megg – (crossed out violently) – Lord Megatron
Harry sighed as the notes on the screen of his phone devolved into bickering.
"Why do I feel like a retainer of a long-married threesome again?" He muttered to himself as he resolved himself to yet another trip to the market.
Hey, look, he's on a card!" Starscream exclaimed, his violet eyes wide with excitement as he rushed into the living room, interrupting the chess match between Megatron and Barricade rather violently.
"Huh? He is?" Barricade blinked, confused.
"Yeah, look." Starscream shoved the card at them.
And there he was, in all of his messy – haired, green-eyed glory.
Harry James Potter, one wizard extraordinaire.
Harry Potter, despite claiming contrary, was quite a catch in the Wizarding and Muggle society. Similarly, his three companions were also, if not more so of a catch, because of their exotic appearance and being almost unnaturally perfect.
Shame that they managed to somehow vanish every time the model hunters got on tail of one or another, the only proof of their existence was rather successful clothing line and the photos of two models in some cross-dressing magazines.
Barricade wasn't a vain mech - at least not to the extent Starscream was - but he had to admit that Harry polishing him was a very pleasant and sexy sight.
The cruiser shuddered as Harry dragged the cloth he had dabbed in some kind of a polish over his chassis on his hood. The feeling was… sublime, as if he had been massaged by the best masseuse in the world. he purred louder, making Harry chuckle at the sound. "Like it?" the wizard asked, only to squeak when strong arms curled around his waist, pressing his back against the hard body.
"Love it." Barricade purred back, nuzzling Harry's neck briefly before gifting the skin there with a faint bite.
"Take that, and that and that… huff, huff…. And this!"
Megatron's vindictive voice growled out, barely heard among the whining of the buzzsaw and some other sounds –
Crack-crash – creaaaak
"Wonder what he's doing now…" Starscream mused. "It sounds like he is torturing something in here."
Barricade snorted. "He ordered me not to allow anyone in – "
Both of the 'Cons jumped in the air at the loud sound.
"You sure it was safe to leave him to… whatever he is doing right now?" Starscream asked, his voice uncertain.
"You want to be on the business end of his sword, just go in there." Barricade replied dryly.
Starscream cringed. "I'll pass, thank you very much."
Meanwhile, Megatron eyed his… victim… rather evilly.
Well, this should do… for now.
The victim in question was sawed at, wrung and from the once beautiful specimen, it was reduced into a rather… gnarly one, as if it aged at least four thousand years under Megatron's 'tender' mercies.
Take that, you excuse for an aft-head. Nobody mocks Megatron.
"Oh, my. What an excellent specimen - just look at its trunk! And how is pruned! Whoever did this, they were a superb master –" The Japanese man raved, his eyes suspiciously shiny with admiration.
Starscream and Barricade looked at each other.
"You don't think…"
"That this was Meggy's yesterday's victim?" Barricade finished, sighing as he nodded.
Apparently the Japanese man had supernatural hearing, as somehow, they found himself staring in the old man's excited face. "You! You two! You know who created this beauty?"
Barricade eyes the .. beauty warily. "Errr. Yes?"
Promptly, the man grabbed him by his pullover. "Where is she? Who is she? She is so very talented – "The man sighed, as if lovestruck.
"Um, he is not – "Barricade tried to fend the man off.
"Quiet, young man. Just tell me who she is. She has a superb gift that should be cultivated further."
Starscream eyed the poor tree doubtfully. Cultivated? Yeah, right. But then, he smirked evilly.
"Meggie is a shy one, Mr.?" He inquired.
The man nodded. "Yoshitaka Horio." He released confused Barricade while he nodded at Starscream.
"Tell her to contact me at her earliest convenience…. It's not every day you find a true genius in shaping bonsai trees." Yoshitaka told the youth, offering him a card, before continuing to admire the tree.
Three days later, one very confused Harry Potter handed Megatron a thick letter. "I don't know why, but there's a letter for you."
Megatron's red eyes blinked. "Well, I didn't give out your box address to anyone."
Starscream and Barricade looked at each other. The russet-haired Seeker shrugged as the black haired man's red eyes glared at him. Barricade just knew they were in trouble now.
"So open it." Starscream offered, nonchalantly sitting on the settee and crossing his legs, as he examined the fingernails on his left hand. Red eyes looked at him suspiciously.
"You know something?" Megatron asked, his silver eyebrows arching at Starscream's minute cringe.
"Of course not." Barricade replied haughtily.
"It's not a prank either. Nobody knows about this post box." Harry murmured as he looked at the simple letter in Megatron's hand. "Just open it already."
With a sharp not, Megatron tore the letter open, blinking with confusion when a big laminated card fell out. "What's that?"
He picked up the card, red eyes widening with confusion as he read the contents.
Recipient: Miss Meggie
AWARD FOR THE 1ST PLACE IN BONSAI MAKING
250.000 £ (two hundred and fifty thousand British pounds)
Harry's eyes widened. "Wow. I didn't know you knew how to make bonsai, Megatron.
The tea in Barricade's mouth was promptly spat out. "Seriously?!" He squeaked out while Starscream pounded his back.
Meanwhile, Megatron quickly read the accompanying letter. Red eyes widened momentarily, and then promptly narrowed in anger.
"Meggie, huh?" His voice was dangerously silky. "Why do I have a feeling that I know the culprits?"
"You don't." Starscream blurted out. "I am sure it was just a coincidence."
"Although I am surprised that your tree massacre was considered art, and even managed to get a first place of all things." Barricade mused thoughtfully, not noticing Starscream horrified stare when Megatron picked an enclosed photo.
"Just a coincidence, huh?" Megatron's voice was as mild as milk, but right now, the two culprit's blood was frozen with terror. "So it's just a coincidence I was mistaken for a female and addressed with that despicable name?"
"Um, yeah?" Starscream squeaked out, and then both of the 'Cons dived out of the window, just in time to be missed by two rather heavy ornamental vases.
"GET BACK HERE, YOU BASTARDS!"
Megatron jumped after them, leaving Harry alone to look at the photo.
"Well, it is a rather fetching tree…" The green eyed wizard mused thoughtfully as he smiled at the photo. "Maybe Megatron finally got over his complex of being unable to climb trees…"
It was cold. And miserable. And those squishies would pay dearly once he would get out if this frozen aquatic Pit.
Nobody said that being sniped and quartered was pleasant experience.
Just… a little bit more.
He wanted to flinch as another group of squishies was gathered in front of his faceplates, the main squishy telling the other ones something about NBE-1 – Megatron imagined taking this squishy into his servos, and then slowly crush his extremities - bit by bit –
- and then his senses were assaulted with a divine feeling of something that loosened his coils and made his spark just a little bit warmer and his processors a bit less sluggish…
All too soon, he was left alone, that divine presence retreating, leaving him with only a mirage of warmth coiling in his valves.
What in the Pit was that?
To Be Continued