Author's Notes: A new series based on the Transformers dealing with human holidays. I was going to post only this chapter as a stand alone then the plot bunnies swarmed and now piles of notes are ready to be typed, expanded and posted for stuff all through the year. Please set story alert in the lower left corner to get an e-mail when each new chapter posts as they may be before, during or after a holiday.

First up, Christmas fun Decepticon style. I hope that no one is too far out of character and this chapter is 1980 cartoon based G1 with the Decepticon base on land not in the water. Any version of the Transformers and any character may appear in future chapters.

:: Means internal comm between specific transformers and not audibly heard by anyone else. Sender's name is always on end to identify them::


Twas the night before Christmas and all through the base

Only one creature was stirring, right past the robo mouse.

Their weapons hid in subspace, in the hopes Autobots would appear.

The Decepticon base lights remained at half power, mirroring the night outside the stone cliff. Inside, the metal decks remained eerily quiet, no laughter or discussions of Christmas joy to come. The only movement red optics scanning the floor, hyper protocols sampling the air down to the smallest dust mite.

::Ravage report!:: Megatron ordered, his vocal crisp as ever over the internal comm, interrupting the data stream.

::No traces detected:: The panther like scout reported back, rubbing at his nose sensor with a black armored paw.

::Are you sure?:: Megatron

::Zero detection of mistletoe confirmed. Whatever the outer airlock sensors registered it was not that stinky stuff. Probably Swindle adding to his air freshener collection again:: Ravage

::Understood:: Megatron closed the line without further words, the distant light in his personal quarters clicking off.

In the hallway, the cassette warrior snarled silently, careful to smooth out his jaw line before moving forward into the camera range as he traced his steps back. 'No 'thanks for doing a great job Ravage.' No 'sorry for dragging you out of recharge in the middle of your rest mode' to track a human plant none of us are thick chipped enough to sneak in. Especially after last year's incident with the Seekers and the visiting Cybertron femme. Never seen so many blasted jet parts lying around from one femme's temper tantrum. Nevertheless, Flamewar did warn them first. Lucky she didn't string them to the ceiling with that plant.' The warrior padded forward, noiseless before lowering his helm and shaking it side to side. 'Why in pit are those two idiots my teammates?'

Rounding the far corner, his fellow cassettes, Frenzy and Rumble moved into view with their burden, obviously heading for their shared quarters.

"Told you this would work, my success is not a quirk," Rumble gloated, his vocal not muffled even as his head rested nearly on his chest plates. His red optics and most his upper chassis concealed beneath the extended green leafy branches and decorations. Black netting bound the decorated pine tree tightly, the bottom of the net sagging with falling pine needles but serving its purpose. Not one needle or ornament fell onto the metal floor.

"Work? What the slag do you think I am doing? And why the back of the tree? It's heavier!" Frenzy's vocal sounded, only the barest bobbing motion of the massive trunk indicating his presence. No sign of his chassis showed under the green and black netting, not even his feet pads on the floor.

::You two! You're the reason I was woke out of recharge. You know Megatron forbids any human holiday related items, even stolen ones. Mistletoe, evergreen boughs and Christmas trees included:: Ravage reminded, his paw rising to depress the hidden catch near the floor, specially designed for their height. The door to their quarters slid open, wide enough to fit Soundwave but barely enough to fit the bound tree.

"It's for one night! Humans won't miss it," Rumble protested.

"Yeah! It was just sitting there all alone in the park. Where else we going to put our presents?" Frenzy added, still hunched over. With a creaking and scarping of metal, he slowly straightened, tree sap dotting his armor.

::Hide them in the closet? While there, get some cleaner. You left sap and green marks on the doorway. I am going back to recharge. You know the tree will be empty like last year:: Ravage growled, returning to his corner nest. Black paws kneaded the recharge covers, smoothing out lumps. Circling, he lay down, resting his head on his paws. A single scan confirmed the inner recharge door remained closed, Soundwave's energy signature inside.

Breems later, the klaxon scream of the battle alarm cut through the air like a laser. Recharging the longest, the seekers fumbled the hardest, rolling up or onto their feet pads, wings outspread from their recharge bunks. The Combaticons, having stole off base with Constructicons to harass Christmas carolers and steal power generators at the nearby towns, missed the attack entirely.

Soundwave sprung off his bunk, his emotions and processings reaching for every one of his cassettes. The private room door slid open to their main quarters, his massive blue square shell filling the doorway. Each of his warrior cassettes answered back, if sleepily.

"Transform!" Moving, parts spinning and rotating, each slid into his chest compartment and linked in.

::Stay hidden. Friendly fire isn't:: Soundwave ordered, the thumping motion of his footsteps reassuring.

Outside on the ground, the Decepticons spread out, weapons in hand as their optics scanned the sky. No designed system, no level of Cybertronian technology could track the target they knew would be streaking their way.

"There!" Starscream's arm remained in the sky northward as a red and brown comet neared. His null rays powered, the powerful glow on their ends reflecting among the new fallen snow.

"Decepticons attack!" Megatron screamed, firing first.

The target flew side to side, evading every blast, every weapon fired their way. The sky blossomed colors, reds and blues no earth made display could match. Not one bow wrapped present fell, not one candy cane melted. Then the counter attack began.

"Take cover!" Starscream ordered, fast as a serpent to roll and evade. Scrambling, their weapons firing the Decepticons ducked and dodged, armor pinging with hits. The objects fell with deadly precision, doing less damage than the accidental fire on each other. Then it was over.

"Is he gone?" Starscream peeked out behind the airlock door, optics on the sky above.

"Until the next attack," Skywarp groaned, rubbing at the black shoulder plate marks as he sat up in the snow.

"Eject. Operation retrieve," Soundwave ordered, pressing down his shoulder button. The simulated glass slide of his chest opened, different cassettes flying forth. Transforming, they landed precisely if unhappily.

"Same thing again?" Rumble asked, looking across the battlefield.

"I thought he was suppose to leave good stuff," Frenzy grumbled, grasping the first chunk of carbon rock.

:: Have we been good Decepticons?:: Ravage asked through their link. Carefully, he applied enough pressure with his jaw to scoop up pieces without accidentally crushing them. The black dust coated everything, even filtering past advanced screen into his exhaust system.

::We are Decepticons. We don't do good!:: Laserbeak answered first, pieces grabbed firmly in his claws. The bird's winds dropped lower as his head tilted down. ::Oh, that explains it::

"Hardly worth the energon cube it makes," Skywarp noted, tossing his handful before watching the pile grow rapidly.

"What is the name of this stuff again?" Thundercracker asked, dumping his double handfuls out.

"Coal," Soundwave answered, his monotone vocal hiding his unhappiness. Personally, he didn't care about the yearly event, but felt the unhappiness of his cassettes transmitting over their carrier bond back to him. A rare smile formed behind his battle mask. The presents, his presents to them, now hidden under their contraband Christmas tree would change their mood.

Megatron stood nearby, a silver shape of power and death as he watched the debris gathered. He looked skyward, his red optics narrowing as his processor churned. 'If he cannot be destroyed, perhaps captured? Yes, that would work. His mocking ho ho ho laugh turning to cries for mercy. Music to my audios. Teach him to mess with the Decepticons.' Fist raised high, Megatron's arm cannon gleamed.

"Nothing shall save you next year, Santa Claus!'


Author's Notes: Have a wonderful holiday all!

* Twas the Night Before Christmas Poem by Clement Clarke Moore in 1882.