Less Dirt, More Blushes.

Summary: When Starscream becomes curious about the value of humans to Cybertronians, when searching for a suitable human to find out, his optics fall upon the totally unsuspecting Miles Lancaster...

Continuity: Movieverse.

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro and Dreamworks/Paramount, I make no claim to ownership

Rating: M

Less Dirt, More Blushes.


Starscream landed at the Decepticon Base with an overloud jet-scream, which told Barricade that Starscream was annoyed or bothered by something. Not wanting to risk the irate Seeker taking it out on him for assumed tardiness, the black and white frontliner wandered out to where Starscream could see him and call him if he wanted him, but not so close that he could be accused of invading the Decepticon Leader's space if he preferred privacy.

Starscream saw him and strode over, annoyance and confusion written over his faceplates.

"I saw that Witwicky insect washing the yellow Autobot scout on the drive again," he said. "I do not understand why the Autobot tolerates it, he could vaporise any dirt on his plating with a quick sonic blast. He hardly needs it, so why does he allow it? Once a week, and sometimes twice a week the fleshling boy washes the Autobot. Why does the Autobot put up with it? He could just tell him not to do it but he doesn't seem to have done that."

"Perhaps he enjoys it?" Barricade suggested. Starscream gave a full-body shudder.

"Don't be ridiculous! Why would he enjoy the sensation of flabby, fleshy hands all over him?" Starscream snorted. "Or maybe it's some odd Autobot perversion? Disgusting, I call it!"

"You shouldn't judge it without trying it," Barricade said. "I've actually had a wash by humans down at the Police pound and it's not as revolting as you might imagine. The water is warm, and those nimble little organic fingers can reach and remove dirt from places we can't get to. It's such a relief to feel those soft little digits pick out a bit of grit in a joint, or clear dirt off an awkward to reach surface."

"Really?" asked Starscream. "Are they not all flabby and slimy and damp?"

"Not at all," Barricade replied. "Unless they are hot or frightened they are not the least bit slimy or damp. They are dry and smooth and warm, their touch is more pleasant than their appearance would suggest."

"Try it, you say?" Starscream said. "You forget that it is not so easy for myself as for you. Not many people have a plane they could wash."

Barricade shrugged one shoulder. "Then find a place in private and a willing human. One off the streets won't be missed and can likely be trained to do what is needed."

"I'll think about it, I'm going to go for another flight, maybe an idea will come to me," Starscream said. He stopped off only long enough to refuel, then converted back to plane form and headed off.

Barricade went back inside. If he were lucky, Starscream would be absent for a nice long time, allowing him time to himself.