Fandom: Transformers Bayverse
Author: gatekat and femme4jack on LJ
Pairing: Perceptor/Drift/Corazon Rodriguez
Rating: NC-17 mech/mech/female
Codes: Slash, Het, Xeno (Transformer/Human), Sticky, First Time
Summary: Corazon, Alicia's 83 year old grandmother, thinks Diego Garcia is a grand bit of fun, especially being a scientific specimen.
Notes: Written in the Dathanna de Gray fanverse (community .livejournal .com/ tf_socket_fics)
Gift fic for Flarn, who won the Dec 2010 reader contest.

Follows the events of The Naturalists: First Christmas

"text" translated Cybertronian.
"text" organic languages
~text~ bond talk
::text:: comm chatter

Spanish to English:
Querido - dear one
Jovencita - young thing


Science and the Witch 1: First Contact


"Ratchet, a moment?" a gentle, near-monotone voice made the CMO look up from his exam of their newest human resident.

"Oh, hello dear. You must be Perceptor," the tiny, white-haired Latina spoke up before Ratchet was able. "I can see in your spark and colors how curious a scientist you are - like your brother, but also so very different." The sun-weathered, heavily wrinkled face grinned and held out her hand toward the new addition to Med Bay. She had insisted on removing her clothing for her exam, even though Ratchet had said it was completely unnecessary, and then had teased him that he was prudish of seeing an old lady in the nude. Needless to say, Ratchet was reaching the end of his notoriously short patience.

"Hello," the relatively small, heavily armored red mech extended a hand to greet her in return on reflex. "Yes, I am. You know my brother?"

"I saw the one I assumed was him out on the tarmac. He was connected energetically to six different organics, none of whom are on the planet at the moment. Are you here to study me?"

"That would be Wheeljack," Perceptor confirmed. "Yes, I am to study you. How are you aware we have the same creator?"

She glanced at Ratchet who was now muttering to himself as he prepared a nanite solution to take care of some of her age-related physical ailments before she turned back toward Perceptor.

"Oh, that one is simple. Mirage gave me a history to read on the trip here, along with a list of all the mechs on base, so I already knew. But you both are connected energetically, though differently than a bonded pair like Mirage and Hound. I can see a form of kinship in your sparks, different from those poor twins, but also similar."

"Poor Twins?" Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "They're a menace!"

"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe do have unique ailments from being split-spark that are heavily exacerbated by their pre-programmed warrior base," Perceptor said. "They are actually quiet well controlled for what they are."

"You are far more fond of them than you let on, dear Ratchet, and no soul should have to live like that, though it is obvious they are managing quite well. I wonder if their spark will be able to rejoin at some point in this life or after, or whether the split will continue beyond." Corazon swung her naked legs back and forth off the berth as though she were a little girl, grinning up at the two mechs.

"Yes, well, it is my function to keep the slaggars in operating order," Ratchet grumbled and handed her the nanite solution, mixed in orange juice rather than the tequila she had requested.

"Are you finished with her intake exam, Ratchet?" Perceptor looked up at the larger, heaver mech. "I would like to interview her before the surgery."

"I am finished ... and before you suggest it again, Corazon, no probings are in the plans at this time. I would be happy to indulge your curiosity once your socket is installed, but I am able to take all the readings I need from you remotely through my scanners. You may dress now. Would you like to speak with her here or back at your lab, Perceptor?"

"I'm going to hold you to that, doc," the elderly woman said sweetly. "I do so love medical exams."

"I believe that makes you nearly unique," Perceptor's barely fluctuating voice keyed up with his interest. "My lab is preferable."

Corazon slipped on her turquoise dress, cowboy boots, and hat, getting to her feet with surprising flexibility to confidently step onto the offered hand. "To your place, then, youngster. I'll see you later, Ratchet."

"I'm sure you will," he grumbled at her as Perceptor walked away.

"Please tell me about these connections and information you can see in our sparks or in your own species," Perceptor began, honestly eager to hear about this unusual ability.

"I've seen it ever since I was a child," she responded easily as he took broad steps across the base. "I didn't always understand what I was seeing. I see colors in people, and around them, connecting them to people, animals, even objects, whether it is a physical, spiritual, or emotional connection...all of it is energy. Sometimes, when I look at someone's aura, at least that is what I call it, I have flashes of insight beyond their present connections and feelings - I can see bits of their past, and once in a great while, some glimpses of future. I have no idea how or why it happens, or why other humans don't have the same sense. To me, it is like any of my other senses, though perhaps even more keen. The older I get, the dimmer my physical senses become, the more vivid it is."

"Fascinating. What to you perceive of me?" he asked, eager for insight into what she saw compared to what he was aware of.

Corazon shut her eyes for a moment.

"You are difficult to read, sonny. Other than connections, it is mostly emotions that I see. Your emotions ... they are there, but they do not run nearly as hot as many around here. So many here are bundles of barely contained grief, rage, or weariness - darkness under a thin surface of light. You are cool, balanced, serenely compassionate, but toward all life in general and not so much toward individuals.

"You have very little anger, and above all, intensely curiosity about everything. Your joy is in discovery, but it is a very different kind of joy than others experience - serene, calm, cool, a delight in logic found in what is seemingly chaos. It is not only your programming, it is your spark. You are connected deeply to one here, and another connection is forming, and you are uncertain what it means for you or even how to feel about it."

She paused for yet another moment. "You wish to have offspring - to create a spark. You wonder if being a creator will awaken more emotion in you."

The entire time Perceptor watched her, his fascination and elation growing with every statement.

"What you say would indicate that what I experience is normal for me and unlikely to change," he said in a tone that contained the mixture of awe, amazement and acceptance few could hear.

"I am glad I can read you. I am still figuring out what everything means with your kind. Your souls are different ... easier to see, but far more complex in many cases. We are a much younger species, obviously, and only a few of the human souls I see have been around longer than our species has."

"Your kind reincarnates routinely?" Perceptor asked as they entered a building on the far edge of the main complex, past warning signs and blast shields.

"As far as I can tell, yes, as does yours. I have theories about it, but they will have to wait until I can ask our makers," she gave a chuckle. "Much of my own curiosity will need to wait until then."

Perceptor stopped, his hand raised to type in the access code to his laboratory.

"Sparks come back regularly?" he stared at her, his optics widening slightly and his EM field flaring in the shock of a fundamental shaking of his beliefs.

"Well, at least as far as I can tell, toots. I've only seen those on base who were on the tarmac. Perhaps those who are inclined to survive the trauma of war are also the old ones. The only one I've seen on this base that is on his first go around is Jazz."

She patted his chest endearingly. "Wouldn't it be amazing to be able to remember?"

"It would be fascinating," he murmured, billions of calculations being rerun in his processors with the new theory. "Can you tell if they were bonded to a different spark before? Or if they bonded to the same one again?"

She thought about what she had seen, the connections between the bonded pair, the fact that Jazz and Prowl's was visibly more complex. But there was nothing she could identify about previous bonds.

"I can only see existing bonds. Jazz and Prowl's is visibly different than the others, but I don't know what that means," she said as she took in Perceptor's lab. It was pristine, ordered, and a serenely peaceful space, just like him.

"Both are quite different from most," Perceptor said easily and set her down on a tabletop before picking up a datapad, beginning to record. "I cannot say I am surprised that they look different to you. How many humans with your ability are currently alive, to your knowledge?"

Corazon tucked her legs underneath her, took off her cowboy hat and ran her fingers through her silver-white hair as she considered his question.

"I know there must be others, because my teacher was one, and the skill exists in curandera lore, as well as the lore of other shamanic figures. The other curanderas I know are all herbalists, empathetic listeners, healers of a sort, but do not have the sight. There are many mediums and psychics who claim it, but I have yet to meet one who actually has the gift. My teacher said that we who have it do not need to boast of it. People will seek us out, and that has always been true. I could see the gift in my teacher, as I can see it in my granddaughter. I have seen hints of it in others, but not full blown."

"Have you ever known one with limited ability increase it with training?" he asked, writing quickly with a stylus on the pad. "Does it follow in family lines, or appear largely at random?"

Corazon watched as he wrote, a smile in her eyes, enjoying talking about her abilities with someone who took the gift seriously from a scientific standpoint. She hadn't lost all of her mischief, but for the moment, she was content to put it aside.

"My own abilities were quite limited at first, or at least I didn't understand them. My training increased my skills. Alicia has the potential, but has never developed it. She intends to train with me now, so you will be able to monitor her progress. And yes, it appears to be inherited. In my family's case, it passes along to women on the paternal line. I am the first in four generations with the gift because there were no surviving daughters for several generations."

Perceptor paused and considered her curiously. "So only females can manifest the ability, but it is only passed on through the males?"

"In my family, yes. I have heard of male shamans who have had the gift, though. But in my culture, those with the true sight have always been women, at least according to our lore. Now, there were no daughters for several generations before mine, so the real test would be to see if Alicia were to have a daughter with the gift, whether she could pass it on. What do you make of all of this, youngster?"

"It is fascinating, and quite unusual. So far you are claiming to perceive things that we cannot, however it is all energy that we do know exists." He considered her. "If we can understand the mechanism of your vision, we may be able to build sensors that will enable us to see as you do. It would be a great boon to science and to our society to expand our knowledge of such things. So much grief could be avoided with the proper application of being able to read sparks and connections."

"For all that I'm a witch, I don't believe in magic, sweetie, if by magic people mean something that bends the rules of the physical universe. I think that all of my gifts are in the physical realm, just dealing with parts we humans haven't discovered yet. I'll be mighty interested to find out what you learn. My theory's always been that it's a sense in the human brain, but needs a key to be unlocked. The key is must be somewhere in my DNA."

Corazon's eyes twinkled, once again the randy old trickster. "How will you go about figuring this out? I hope it involves a socket connection and some lovely deep probing of my mind. I do get so excited about the probing part."

"Have you always been so amorous?" he cocked his head slightly. "Perhaps you are related to Shekat in some way. Though you talk while she acts."

She cackled and reached up and patted the mech on the chest. "I'll let you in on a secret, dear. Every female of my species is amorous, perhaps even more than the males. We are always ready for more. But we're taught early on to deny it, to save it for some Prince Charming who never comes along, to equate pleasure with true love and believe we shouldn't have one without the other." She patted him again and curled back up on her wiry, wrinkled legs.

"I'm too old for such games, and I enjoy shocking the youngsters. Even with Ratchet's interventions, I have perhaps 5-10 more years? Unless someone wants to claim an old hag like me. I intend to enjoy every second of it."

"I understand, though I would calculate you would have roughly fifty years as an unclaimed socket," he said calmly. "If you make it known you are inclined to be claimed, I have no doubt you will find yourself the subject of interest by many mechs. While aesthetics do play a role, most are far more attracted to the energy of a being when selecting a socket. The drive to have sparklings has put a strong imperative on claiming a strong socket for many couples as well."

"And that is a wonderful thing, my good mech, because it is the energy in others that I find lovely as well, and there is amazing energy on this base. I got to watch my granddaughter share with her mechs - it was the most lovely thing I've ever seen on the energetic level. It is as though she has bloomed into a flower that will not fade ... at least not for a long, long while."

"Not an inaccurate statement," Perceptor almost smiled. "What can you tell about a person or object when you study them?"

Corazon played with a long silver lock of hair as she pondered and then answered the scientist. "For people, I can tell their emotional state, who they are connected with, the nature of that connection - romantic, sexual, friendship, hate, anger. I can tell, as I said, whether their soul is old or young, if it is damaged. I can tell much about their physical, mental, even spiritual health by the state of their aura. I'm not sure what this would mean to a scientist, but I can often identify their animal familiar, or whether they have some other sort of spirit guide or connection. For objects, I can sense their connections to people - for instance I could see Mirage and Hound's connection with their hardlight avatars, and knew that those forms were not alive in the same way they were."

"Fascinating," Perceptor murmured, excited enough that his EM field flickered in a small dance. "Can you tell anything about the nature of a soul's damage?"

"Have you read the Harry Potter novels?" she asked with a laugh. "That Rowling girl was really on to something when she wrote that murder tears apart ones soul. It truly does, creates gaps, fissures, places where darkness can creep in and find a long-term home. But not only murder. Any unprocessed pain or grief can do long term damage. One of my jobs as a curandera is to help folks come to terms with damaging events and memories. You have a base full of damaged souls, dear, but I'm sure you are all aware of it. A soul can never be completely destroyed, but the damage can be very severe. Most of it's self inflicted, but it can also be inflicted by others."

She thought about the thousands of tiny lights trying to escape from Jazz's spark and shivered.

"Yes, the war has been long and brutal," a small sound escaped his vents and he reached our to stroke her hair lightly. "It has not been uncommon to hear a mech state that the extinguished are the lucky ones. Yet for those of us who have survived, we are in a time of great hope again, no matter the damage we bear. We may finally have the time and resources to begin to heal as a people."

"No one is beyond the possibility of healing, even if it is simply learning to live with ones damage," she smiled and patted the long, thin finger that was stroking her with an almost maternal look. "So, tell me about this connection you have with the mech with the sword?"

His field flared again, as hot as it ever had. "His designation is Drift. He is courting me, I believe. I am not sure why, now that I have returned to the sciences."

Corazon felt his field, and it made her shiver again with pleasure. "Because you will not let the past and what he has been affect how you view him now. That is the nature of your logic and compassion. And it makes sense for one who has killed so many to be attracted to someone whose value is in learning and discovery rather than destruction. He wants what you would give to any sparks you create, the reason for functioning beyond the war and vengeance."

A shadow flickered across his features and his spark, memories and grief too fresh not to hurt, but already dimming from acceptance. Right on the grief's heals was a flicker of hope.

"You do not believe he desires the sniper he took as a lover?" he asked, a subtle hint of uncertainty in his voice. "He met the warrior, not the scientist."

"He desires you, whatever your current function," she said softly, looking closely at the connection between the two. "But in the scientist he sees not just one who is a lover, but one who can be a bondmate and creator. There is a strong desire to create life in what connects you, and in that way, you are an ideal match. Your uncertainty about yourself is the only thing preventing this connection from becoming much deeper."

Perceptor hummed thoughtfully and filed that to run as a second priority analysis. "I will consider this. Can you tell how many times a spark has been sent to live ... can you see the spark Jazz is carrying?"

She thought for a moment, recalling her short time on the tarmac. Her short-term memory was not the best any longer. But even though she could not recall everything that was said, if she focused, she could recall what her sight had seen in vivid detail.

"I could see the new spark, but it had no sentience, no identity of its own. It registered only as energy connected to Jazz, Prowl, and even to their young man, but not as a person, not yet.

"As to the age of others, I cannot tell exactly how many times. Perhaps with time and study I could learn to read sparks as I can souls. What I can see is that some are very old, like Optimus, Prowl, the small yellow mech with the little wings, even the twins. Some have only come a few times - the large black mech with the cannons, for instance. And some, like you, Ratchet, your brother, and your lover are somewhere in between."

Perceptor hummed again, though his field rippled excitedly at the information no one had ever thought existed, of an idea that had never existed before.

"Can you tell what caused the damage in a given spark?"

Corazon shook her head. "I haven't looked that closely. Even though I can see a lot, I also deliberately don't see things, especially those secrets. Some things, like colors and connections I can't help but to see. I have to look deep to see the damage. With the people I've helped, usually I see the damage, and sometimes the cause because of broken relationship connections. But what I do is to help them figure out what has caused it, how to heal it or live with it. I haven't done that with one of your kind yet. I can try, if someone is willing. I don't have any special ability to heal a soul. People do that themselves in a way, I just guide them along the way."

Perceptor nodded thoughtfully. "Yours is a skill that has been long lost among our kind," he said softly. "Medics of all kinds were targeted during the war. They were lost almost as completely as the nobles and priests. Even Ratchet, gifted as he is, is as much a soldier as he is a healer. I would assess that much of the damage you can see is there because we have no one who knows how to heal. Smokescreen does his best, but it was never more than a tertiary function for him." He barely held back that several mechs would willingly claim her simply to keep her skill alive for an extra vorn or two. "It would be a valuable experiment to conduct, to see if you can assist one of us, or teach us how to help ourselves."

The old witch smiled, seeing more in his colors than she let on. "It would mean a lot to me to help the people who mean so much to my granddaughter. You are her people now, as much or more than humanity ever has been."

He smiled faintly. "We consider her one of us. Sockets are very important, not just to the mech who claims them, but to all of us." He reached out to stroke her hair, then her back. "Now, perhaps I can probe your body to explore how your responses compare to younger females?"

Corazon gave a hearty laugh at his suggestion, affectionately patting his long finger.

"Querido, I thought you would never ask. It takes a little longer to stoke my fire, but I run hot if a lover has the patience. Do you have a thing for older women? Of course, I'm just a jovencita to you."

"Yet you call me the young one," a small smile played across his features, her playful nature drawing out what little playfulness he had. "I can not say I have ever considered it," he admitted, fingers designed to manipulate things far smaller that her exploring and stroking her body. "I do have patience."

"Everyone seems young to me, querido. Even you old ones, and on one level, I have come back many more times than you...not that it has gained me the wealth of experience one of your lifetimes would."

She sighed and lay back, allowing his graceful hands to play along her body and slip off her turquoise dress. She was utterly comfortable in her own skin, having lived in it so long. She had cared well for her body, considered it a good friend. Her wrinkles were as much from the sun as from her age, and to her, they were marks of a life well enjoyed.

I'm still full of life, she thought as his touches slowly roused her. Not the hot fire of youth, but more like the coals after a fire burns out - gray on the outside, but still red hot under the ash of time.

Her own hand absentmindedly brushed her chest where she had lost a breast to cancer 30 years earlier. She had always told Alicia and Esperanza that it made her look like an amazon warrior, and she said the same to Perceptor simply to watch how he would respond to the allusion.

His optics unfocused, though his hands and cables did not slow their exploration and gentle arousal. "A fascinating practice, if they existed and did so."

She grinned at him and put her hands behind her head to better watch his exploration as one of his fingers slid between her legs, vibrating slightly. It has been long...far too long since another had touched her like this. She'd had partners, but old men were almost more impatient than young ones, inwardly afraid it was their last time and trying to get themselves off as quickly as they could lest they accidentally had a heart attack before they came.

"Do you know why you only had one child?" Perceptor asked as he teased the folds concealing her clit with a finger while his other hand continued to caress her skin.

She shivered and pressed herself up against his touch, pleased at how her body could still respond, still feel so good with the right attention.

"I didn't marry my son's father. Being the only curandera with the sight in all the Southwest and Northern Mexico did not leave me much time for a family. He'd long had a crush on me, and I felt sad for him when he was drafted. I was normally more careful, but I slept with him before he was shipped off to fight in the Battle of the Bulge, and he was dead before his son was born. I ... wasn't as attentive of a mother as I should have been. My mind was on my work and I often failed to see the brokenness in my own son, or to give it the same attention I gave to those I worked to heal. I knew I should not have another."

She closed her eyes, lost for the moment in memory.

"My son knocked up and married Esperanza right before he was drafted to Vietnam. When he came home, he was a broken man. I tried to help him, but he wouldn't let me. He drank too much and eventually took off. Died a few years later in an accident - he was drunk."

"Too much focus on the present than the future," Perceptor murmured. His head turned slightly to look behind him, though his fingers did not pause their efforts to arouse her. "Greetings Drift. What do you require?"

A tiny smile crossed the samurai's features as he stepped closer. "I require nothing, Perceptor. I came to see if you had your energon today."

"Oh," a bright smile flashed across the scientist's features, only to have them fall to a moan of pleasure as Drift slid a finger around the rim of Perceptor's light cannon.

"Hello Drift," Corazon said with a warm smile as she watched the colors of their auras interact with one another, mingle, and strengthen their connection.

"Good afternoon, Corazon," Drift inclined his head to her, his fingers continuing to play with his lover's light cannon as he watched Perceptor pleasure her. "You have caused a great deal of excitement among the scientists here. Your energy is quiet strong for a body so old."

"So I've been told ... OH," Corazon suddenly closed her eyes and moaned. Drift's touches seemed to bring out a new mood in Perceptor, who had leaned down to taste her. She could feel the energy they spoke of pulsing in her, could see it if she focused. In her mind's eye, she was no longer an aged body, close to her end, but a human shaped light, surrounded by colors, brighter spots at her chakras that were swirling, receiving energy and sending it out, nearly strong enough to reach the two sparks above her without the connection, but not quite.

"She is bright," Drift's voice rumbled above her in unmistakable desire before whispering something in their own language that made Perceptor shudder. "Pretty one, would you like to experience a proper spiking?"

"A proper spiking!" Corazon cackled, "Is that what the muchachos are calling it these days? As long as you think my ticker can take it. Of course ... even if my ticker can't take it, it would be a good way to go."

Corazon grinned wide at the two mechs, spreading her legs suggestively.

Perceptor raised an optic ridge at her, pausing look up several terms and association, before Drift chuckled softly and turned the red mech's head by the chin to kiss him soundly. It thoroughly distracted the scientist from thinking about anything other than pleasure.

Despite it taking attention off her for a moment, watching and feeling the way the lovers' energy fields flared and mingled during the kiss, finally locking into an interconnected mesh, was enticing in its own right. The sounds Perceptor made were sexy as well. When they parted, Perceptor focused on her once more and offered his hands. "A berth is better for interfacing."

"What a gentleman!" Corazon grinned, climbing confidently onto his hands. "Not taking me on your desk the first time. If only all of those who propositioned me were so polite." The elderly woman sat cross-legged in the scientist's hand, looking strangely like a little girl. The colors that were whirling around her in the mechs' still enmeshed fields was enchantingly different.

"Ratchet is also notoriously ill-tempered with those who are injured while interfacing," Perceptor said as he walked towards a small back room intended for him to recharge without leaving his lab, but was far more often used by Drift to recharge, or the pair for pleasure.

"I tend to break some of his more delicate components when we hit the floor," Drift rumbled, his hands ghosting down the large flat panel of Perceptor's chest, causing the scientist to shudder with silent but bright desire.

"I imagine you do," Corazon said with a laugh, watching the wildly violent yet self-controlled colors pulsating in the Samurai mech. A keen sense of justice, desire for peace even though he was, at spark, extremely violent, and willingness to do anything it took to achieve the world he wanted for his future sparklings. He was all but transparent in his desire for Perceptor to be the one who created that future with him.

With a mechanical sound of pleasure, Perceptor sat on the berth, then laid back so Corazon could sit comfortably on his chest. Drift knelt by the side of the berth, one arm by Perceptor's head, supporting him, as he leaned down to kiss his lover. His other hand slid between the scientist's legs to scrape claws against the interface panel.

"Open up, let her ride you," Drift whispered loud enough for her to hear as Perceptor shuddered and retracted the panel.

Corazon trembled, her sharp wit fleeing in the face of what was to come. She regretted for a moment that she didn't have the socket installed yet. Watching her energy flow into the scientist's living soul would have been breathtaking. Her body ached to be filled, no less now than when she had been young. She was just more choosy with age.

She touched herself, hoping she would be slick. It was one way in which her body did not cooperate well any longer.

Perceptor moaned, his body tensing under her. She glanced towards his groin and smiled to see Drift sliding fingers in and out of Perceptor's body. The slick sound was similar to sex, but with a metallic addition. After a few thrusts the white mech pulled his fingers out, drawing a sound of objection from Perceptor that was ignored. He brought his fingers up to her.

"This should be slick enough," Drift smiled at her, his energy hot and raging, wanting loose but tightly reigned in for now.

She felt her body tense and her toes curl in anticipation and Drift began to spread the ample lubricant around her folds, and then sliding one slender finger slowly inside to coat her clenching passage. He removed the first finger, then slid the other in.

The curandera sighed in pleasure, her hands gripping gaps in the armor underneath her, drawing appreciative sounds from its owner. She relaxed as Drift removed his finger only to slide them both between her legs to support her as she was lifted and set down within arm's reach of Perceptor's human-sized but not very human-looking red phallus.

With the energy of a woman a quarter of her age, she launched herself at the sensitive, malleable metal, encircling it with hands that had a lifetime of experience, sucking on the tip and sliding her tongue into the slit, all the while watching to see what it would do to the colors of the calm scientist who as not nearly as calm any longer.

His voice echoed his colors; a sharp, wordless cry of pleasure that rippled through his aura and EM field as strongly as the mechanical static rippled through his voice. She watched as Drift slowly slid two fingers into Perceptor not far below her, drawing another rush of desire from the scientist.

She wanted to feel what he was feeling. She was so close, could sense so much from him. She felt hot, hotter than she had in so long. Her normally cold hands were sweating as she stroked him, the buzz of his energy field all around her further igniting her body and mind with desire. She watched in fascination and lust as Drift scissored his fingers in the scientist's valve, eliciting a sharp cry.

Meeting the Samurai mech's optics, she lifted herself to slide on to Perceptor, his own lubricant smoothing the way. Drift got the point and sheathed himself in his lover right after. Perceptor's response was a strangled, static-heavy cry as his backstrut arched and delicate hands gripped the berth tightly.

"Yesss!" he hissed, gripping the spike inside him and thrusting up into the organic heat above him.

"You will be fighting mechs off with energy like that," Drift rumbled, pleasure tightening his vocalizer as he thrust in time with her movements. His field danced and flickered in time with Perceptor's pleasure as much as his own.

Corazon could not respond in words, only with a serene smile as she reveled in both the physical act and whirl of colorful energies around her. When one of Perceptor's cables found her nub to caress in time with his thrusts, she cried out, her heart bursting with happiness that her body could still respond this way, with aliens of all people!

Without warning Drift changed his angle, causing Perceptor to keen sharply, the sound quickly leaving her hearing range as the new contact pushed him close to overload. His circuits tingled with extra energy, pushing nearly all his analytical protocols to the back of his processors as he briefly lost himself in the moment.

Remembering something that Alicia had told her, Corazon dug her fingers into the wires and tubing in the joints between Perceptor's legs and torso, enjoying the way his energy flowed in the heat of the moment, so much more emotion swirling in his colors. It was becoming more difficult to concentrate. She closed her eyes to await the results, wanting to only see the colors of the energy and nothing physical, even as their physical selves reached climax.

Another shift behind her as Drift reached his limit and roared, slamming into Perceptor and leaning forward to put that much more force behind it. His EM field pushed into his lovers hard and deep, needing to feel the pleasure pushing back into him, needing to know, to feel that the overload wasn't just his.

The hard thrusts into the scientist's valve pushed his spike just that much harder into the ancient curandera. "Mama Maria!" she cried out as her own energy flared. It seemed almost criminal that it didn't flow into the bright sparks she could see in her mind's eye - so powerful, yet so hungry.

It was all more than enough to drive Perceptor over the edge, his energy rippling out from him, flowing over and through Drift's, entwining with it, pulling as much as pushing as their overloads mingled outside the mech's control.

Sound, energy and touch mingled into a single explosive moment where none of them were fully aware of anything but the ecstasy that washed through them and between them.

"Wow," Corazon whispered as she came back to herself. "I haven't seen it so vibrant since Alex Martinez in the 10th grade. Those soldiers shipping off to Europe, who'd never been laid, had amazing energy."

"I'm sure they did," Perceptor smiled at her, his energy already settling into his normal, sedate pattern, though there was a softness to it as he reached up to stroke Drift's angular features.

"Will this be your typical experimental day with her?" Drift nearly purred, pressing into the contact with little inclination to separate their chassis just yet.

Perceptor smiled faintly. "I believe so. There is so much to learn from her."

"And so much to learn from you." Corazon pulled herself gently off of Perceptor's spike, knowing that if she stayed in one position for too long, she would have trouble getting out of it. "You two are adorable together. Life is short. You should get on with it," she winked at them, audacious as ever. "I'd love to see what a new little spark's energy looks like."

"Jazz, Shimmerfire and Bumblebee are carrying now," Perceptor suggested, somewhat missing the point, which only brought a tolerantly amused look from his lover.

"Perhaps you will be there for the creation of one," Drift suggested with a small smile and reluctantly pulled out of Perceptor, unsubspacing several cloths for them to clean themselves.

"Oh, that would be marvelous. I imagine Hound, Mirage and my Alicia will try again soon, but I doubt I will be up close and personal for that one."

"Most likely," Drift agreed, drawing a soft series of clicks from Perceptor as he cleaned his lover's valve and now full-sized spike. "Sideswipe will try with Prime again. I have heard that Silver Shadow and Starjumper have approached him as well."

"It would be so fascinating to watch the energy flow as a new spark is created, and to figure out when it becomes sentient. My daughter-in-law is a midwife, and I've had a chance to observe the developing energy of a fetus, to see when it appears to have a life-force or soul of its own. Human conception is amazing energetically as well." Corazon curled on her side on the surprisingly comfortable heat of Perceptor's chest plates.

"According to Jazz and the Seekers, the spark becomes sentient between third and half way to term. That is also the point when aborting becomes a significant risk for the carrier," Perceptor explained. "Until then, it seems that the energy can be reabsorbed by the carrying spark with limited chance for harm."

"I wonder how that works," Corazon eyes shifted up as she thought about what kind of energetic process would give a 'soul' to a person or a spark. "I'd give anything to watch the exact moment it was happening, or at least to be able to see if it was a slow process or something immediate. How long did you say mechs carry? Perhaps I will live long enough to watch the process."

"If you are not claimed, you should live long enough to see Jazz's sparkling," Perceptor said smoothly, watching with hungry optics as Drift cleaned himself up. "If you are claimed, you are likely to be alive for the separation and framing of everyone kindled in the next vorn. Not even the young sockets are likely to see any of them upgrade from sparkling to youngling, though."

"My granddaughter may very well make it that long, if I'm reading what I see in her correctly. Her dedication to her lovers' sparks borders on religious."

"Possible, though not probable," Perceptor acknowledged. "If she lives a very long time and their first sparkling upgrades quickly, she may witness it."

"Perceptor, you turned your comm off again," Drift interrupted. "Ratchet wants her back."

"He wants me? That pretty young thing's not giving him enough?" She gave her classic cackle of a laugh.

"Oh, I'm giving him more than he knows how to deal with, but I like the trouble you give him. You certainly have my blessing to give him more of that," a female voice said, peaking in from the lab. "Ratchet sent me to collect his patient."

"Ratchet is not one to keep waiting," Perceptor said and picked her up as he shifted to stand and walk to his desk where her clothing was.

She quickly dressed and was then lowered to Mikaela. "Let's walk, sweetie. I need to work out the new kinks they gave me." She turned back toward the two mechs and gave a wide grin. "Looking forward to your next experiment, youngster. Those folks down in Roswell have got nothin' on me now when it comes to probings."