A/N:I said before that there was a second side-story to Nortan Antivirus, and I have had it half-written for ages. I only recently got the motivation to beat up on Thundercracker again, so I managed to pump it all out in a single night. Hooplah. :) It is the last installment, but that's okay. It's been a fun run.

This is just kind of a fun extension to the scene where Skywarp is forced to sleep in Thundercracker's corner, because I do not believe that Skywarp would take that kind of humiliation without a spectacular fit of immaturity.

Disclaimer: I never claimed to own them. I just like to borrow them once in a while for destructive purposes. :)

Title: Nortan Antivirus
Characters: Predominantly Skywarp and Thundercracker. Nonslash.
Genre: Humor
Summary: Skywarp always got what he wanted—and by Primus, he wanted that berth.

Night Terror

He knew that he was irresistible to every sense- good looking, good smelling, good sounding… He did not blame any mech or femme for desiring him with every fiber of their being.

But the Constructicons had been tracking Skywarp for four of Earth's solar cycles. It disturbed him how badly they seemed to desire him.

Now if that Constructicons had been attractive femmes wanting to play medic, then that would have been different. As it was, they were green, hulking mechs that hauled dirt and dug holes.

Frankly, he did not want them anywhere near him.

Three of them had tackled him down days before, grunting something about his 'annual upgrade', which was considerably less flattering than being tackled and lavished in nothing but compliments surrounding how shiny and well maintained his plating was, or how inexplicably better-looking than Starscream he was. He knew then and there that his life was in mortal danger. The Constructicons were not going to catch him.

Not this time.

He had, moments after, left behind his humble life and taken on the life of a fugitive. He moved from utility closet to utility close, keeping track of the Contructicon's movements, their shifts, and even eavesdropping on their 'plans'. He had several close calls in which they may have seen or heard him, but thanks to his ability to warp halfway across the ship in half of a nanoklik, he had been relatively safe…

Until he realized that he was actually a lot less safe than he had previously thought. Even an unsuspecting broom closet was fallible, as Skywarp had learned the hard way.

Cycles without proper recharge had driven him to ask for refuge from the only understanding mech on the Nemesis. He knew that if no one else, at least Thundercracker would be willing to provide him with safe, comfortable recharge conditions…


"The corner?" Skywarp cried, following his friend's finger with his optics.

"May I remind you that you offered to sleep there first?" Thundercracker asked smugly, obviously enjoying himself.

"I didn't actually mean it!"

"Well then you should not have offered it."

"TC, you are the sparkless spawn of the inferno!" Skywarp slumped. When he thought of 'comfortable' and 'safe' recharge space, his thoughts did not automatically jump to 'dark, damp corner'.

"I'm glad you think so. Now get to your corner. If you'd like, I could go fetch a broom."

Skywarp would have argued further, but Thundercracker was already laying back down with an air that left no more room for arguing. So resigned to his fate for the time being, he scowled and grudgingly sauntered to the corner of Thundercracker's quarters, which he already despised more than any other corner in the whole base. He inwardly vowed that before the night was up, he would get what he wanted.

And he wanted that berth.

Thankfully, he considered himself a master of manipulating the environment to bend to his will. In his case, manipulating the environment consisted of driving Thundercracker crazy until he surrendered his recharge berth. If there was one thing he was exceeding good at, it was harassment.

He cheered up a little knowing that at least step one had been a success—infiltrating TC's room in the first place. Not always an easy task, especially when it came to t he grouchy mech. It was just a matter of time before step two was in progress.

The cheer was very short lived, however, as he finally came face-to-face with the left-most corner of the darkened room. Skywarp could not help but to stare at it as if its very existence offended him. It was better than sleeping in a closet, no doubt, but at least in the closet he had managed to retain a shred of dignity. No one even knew he was sleeping in them except for his triune (and Ramjet, though no questions were asked at the time), and they were already well aware that he was not in possession of anything that even vaguely resembled shame. Ultimately it boiled down to the fact that it had been his choice to sleep in the closet, and it was certainly not his choice to sleep in the corner of his best, and only friend's room.

Primus frag it, it just wasn't fair!

He sent a disgusted glance at Thundercracker's very relaxed, very comfortable form as he settled down on the very comfortable looking berth. He glanced once more at the corner he had been assigned to. The cold, lonely, metal corner that looked like it had never been acknowledged before in its whole existence. It seemed at least ten degrees colder than the rest of t he ship. Its color seemed a little less purple, and a little more grey than any other walls.

It was lonely in that corner…


With a 'klang' of metal on metal, he pressed his back against the wall, watching Thundercracker turn his back to him dismissively. He observed the other seeker as he relaxed, laying partially on his front, and partly on his side, his wings awkwardly angled in a way that Skywarp himself could not even fathom being remotely comfortable. Still, he seemed comfortable and that bothered the darker Seeker. It bothered him a lot.

With a scowl, he sulkily slid down the wall with an ear-splitting 'SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH' as his wings slid against the metallic slab, noting with satisfaction that Thundercracker's frame tensed at the noise. The silence seemed to ring in the air as Skywarp's aft finally reached the floor. Thundercracker's frame relaxed.


Skywarp slid the rest of the way down, his back and wings on the floor and his legs outstretched before him. He propped his head uncomfortably against the wall.

Allowing a few long moment of silence, he listened to Thundercracker shift irritably, but frowned when he did not further acknowledge him.

Skywarp would not be ignored.

Lifting his head slightly forward, he brought it back against the wall, filling the otherwise silent room a soft metallic clink. He wasted no time repeating the action several times, watching Thundercracker twitch slightly with each impact. There was an irritated groan from his trinemate's general direction. Encouraged, he kept going. Before long, though, Thundercracker stopped reacting to the noise altogether, so he took that as his cue to stop and instead laid his head on the floor. He contemplated the sudden deafening silence. He hated silence… so, in an attempt to remedy the situation, he began to hum softly to himself.

"Warp…" came Thundercracker's warning growl, though he did not make any effort to move.


"Would you be quiet?"

"I am being quiet." Skywarp stated softly, not without a snarky undertone. Thundercracker's definition of 'quiet' was considerably different than his own.

"Then be silent."

"Well I can't be completely silent." Skywarp tried to hide the smile in his voice. "My internal systems will be revving, my vents will be cycling, I'll probably twitch—you know I'm a restless recharger. Also my chronometer dings every 2 hours and I don't know why, I think I have a clog in my–"

"Skywarp. Silent."

"Right, silent…"

Several more long minutes passed where Skywarp really did do his best to be silent, if only to give the blue seeker a false sense of security… but it was fleeting. It did not take long for the first twangs of discomfort to make themselves known. He let out a small noise of discontentment, folding his arms over his chest. Unable to effortlessly keep them folded, he moved his arms from his chest to a sprawled position on each side of him. From there, he folded them behind his head, using them as a makeshift pillow. He almost felt comfortable, but his knee joint felt stiff. He bent his leg, listening to the hydraulics wheeze. He let the bent leg fall sideways, his still-bent knee impacting the floor softly, just enough to reverberate through the room.

Primus almighty…

He sat up and plopped down on his chest and stomach.

Definitely not.

He flopped onto his back, metal against metal making a spectacular clanging noise.


Skywarp jerked, sitting up abruptly.

"I will feel absolutely zero guilt kicking you out on your aft. Better yet, turning you straight into the Constructicons! Stop making noise and fracking shut down!"

Skywarp frowned. "The floor is hard."

Thundercracker sat up, the slight glow of his red optics illuminating a withering stare.

"It's metal."

"It's scratching my paint!" Skywarp said, sounding truly upset.


"It's uncomfortable. It's getting in the way of my wings. Also, I can hear the pipes banging. I think an Insecticon is having a midnight snack in the form of the base's structural integrity."

"Then I hope it chews a hole directly under and through your slagging aft." Thundercracker growled lowly.

"Speaking of eating pipes," Skywarp continued, ignoring the blue jet, "I'm low on energy. Where's your stash?"

"Even if you had not already consumed my whole stash, I would not give you any because you are a wayward rump-fed clotpole and I hope the Structies' rebuild you into a Transformer-sized blender. Now if I hear one more fragging word out of your slog-leaking mouth, I will weld your aft to the ceiling above Megatron's throne and let him beat you like a piñata!"

Skywarp flashed him a crooked grin.

"You have such a way with words."

He fell to the ground as a datapad flew through the air and impacted his cranial unit.

Shuffle shuffle..

Thundercracker's optics shot open.

Shuffle shuffle…

He instinctively tensed at the strange noise before his memory quickly reminded him of the nuisance he had banished to his corner. A familiar feeling of dread began to creep through his fuel lines as he had the uncomfortable feeling that said nuisance was no longer in his designated area.

Shuffle… Shuffle…

He jerked into a sitting position and scrambled to the opposite edge of his berth at the sudden, unexpected touch on his leg.

"Fraggit-!" he cursed in alarm, struggling to maintain his balance.

"TC, there is something growing in your corner…"

Thundercracker shook his head in an attempt to clear it, having been woken up from a very light stage of recharge. He checked his chronometer—only four terrestrial minutes had passed since Skywarp had gone relatively quiet, allowing him just enough time to slip into the very early stages of his cycle.

"What the slag are you talking about?" He snarled, irritation looming like a cloud.

"Mold. Your corner is moldy. It's disgusting."

"My corner.." Thundercracker grumbled dangerously. "-is not moldy."

"It is too. And it growled at me."

"Then..." Thundercracker spoke slowly, internally scraping the sides of his quickly depleting 'vat-o-patience'. "-go sleep in the other corner."

"And what can I expect to find there? A radioactive tubesock? Penicillin? A container of Ramjet's used oil? Your room is a safety hazard, TC."

"Not my problem."

"Actually it is." Skywarp began smartly, leaning back on his thrusters in thought. "Due to the radioactive nature of your floor, I think it is safer to be on the berth. So as your duty as my friend, if you would just make a little room-"he trailed off, beginning to crawl onto the berth. With both hands and one knee on the surface, his efforts were immediately halted as Thundercracker planted a raised foot against the darker Seeker's head.

"Nuh uh."

"Oh come on!" Skywarp keened pitifully, batting the foot off of his forehead. "It's not like I take up that much space!"

"You kick."

"What? You liar." Skywarp looked unconvinced. "How would you even know?"

"This isn't the first time you have tried to take over my berth, Warp, and believe me when I say that it will not be the last."

"I promise I'll sleep on the very edge."

"No. I don't want you near me." Thundercracker prodded Skywarp once more with his foot to get his point across, though it was irately batted away by a black hand. Skywarp set both of his palms against the berth, opening his mouth and audibly drawing air into his vents as he prepared to speak.


"Don't touch my berth." Snapped Thundercracker. Skywarp pulled his hands away quickly, looking upset.

"Okay… Look…" Skywarp continued, his hands now held forward in a placating gesture. "I think that it would just be better for the both of us if we were to cooperate with each other."

Thundercracker's optics narrowed.

"So, just hear me out, okay?" Skywarp paused, waiting for Thundercracker to object. He placed his palms together and continued when the objection did not come. "This is my proposition. You give me 1/3rd of your berth, and I solemnly to not kick you, harass you, or otherwise derail you in any way for the rest of the cycle."

"Absolutely not."

"What! You didn't even think about it!"

"You have nothing to bargain with." Thundercracker crawled back to the middle of his berth, his previous aggression replace with cool logic. "Technically, you could have easily avoided being in this position if you would just stop being a cowering pile of organic feces. As it is, you deserve nothing more than my moldy corner. Even offering you that much is pure generosity on my part."

"Did you really just call me a pile of feces?"


"Have you no spark!" Skywarp threw out his arms pathetically, looking genuinely flustered.

"None at all."

"That's a lie. The friend I know would never ever force his wingmate to sleep in his corner with mold. The wingmate I know is selfless and compassionate and noble jet who cares about his friends more than himself or his own comfort."

"What delusional little world have you been living in? I am none of those things. And I am going to force you into my moldy corner. In fact, I hope it growS a consciousness, thumbs, a strange desire to mimic an duck every time Starscream says the word 'leader' and fuses with you. May you be misshapen and desire breadcrumbs for the rest of your days."

"Mold does not grow on metal…"

"My point exactly. My corner is not moldy."

Skywarp was silent for a long moment. "…Why a duck?"

"Because I hate ducks, and I hate you."

"Well wouldn't that just make your life twice as miserable?"

"Get the frag back into that corner."

"-I mean honestly. You need to think these things through, TC."


The room was filled with the resounding and unmistakable sound of a metal foot colliding with a metal head, followed by a mad scramble to the edge of the room.

Skywarp sulked.

Things were not going according to plan. It had been nearly half of a terrestrial hour and Skywarp was still exiled to the floor. He watched, curled up with knees hugged to his chest, through glaring optics as Thundercracker recharged peacefully. He felt nothing but resentment, and listened cynically to the steady hum of recharging systems and components, perpetually entertaining the idea of clogging his wingmate's intakes with paper-mache paste. He ultimately decided against it.

Attracting flies with honey instead of vinegar and whatnot.

As it was, he did not recharge much. It was like Thundercracker had taken his portion of recharge years ago to use for his own selfish, well-rested purposes and left him with just enough recharge time to minimally function. Thundercracker recharged a lot. Skywarp avoided it, convincing himself long ago that it was a boring waste of time anyway, meaning that he had far too much time on his hands to wreak havoc and leave a trail of destruction in his wake.

Regardless, while he had previously felt ready for a nice cycle of recharge mere minutes before, the effort it took to commandeer his friend's berth had only succeeded at presenting him a challenge. It was no longer an attempt to recharge comfortably; it was now a mission that he was willing to lay his life down in order to accomplish.

He pillowed his head with his arms and folded one ankle over the other, shaking his pedes restlessly to the tune of Mission Impossible as he hummed it.

He began to plot new ideas as his feet continued their steady bounce. Each new scheme was more ridiculous than the last, but he did not mind the entertainment it presented through the silent, dark gloom. He smiled to himself as he considered the idea of welding Thundercracker to his berth, but dismissed the thought as he realized that it would be counterproductive and probably unsuccessful.

He glanced towards the recharging mech again, feeling his previous amusement ebb away and remind him that he was supposed to be bitter. He was often criticized for having a one-track mind, but he did not see it as a curse or a nuisance as others viewed it. He saw it as an opportunity to chase after what he truly wanted.

Primus above, he wanted that berth.

He made a sour face and looked away, deciding that it was time to put his next plan into action.

His sour expression quickly turned to a dark smirk while his CPU reeled through a list of options to serve as his 'next plan'. He mentally halted on a single, simple plan that was bound to at least further his plans for ultimate berth-conquest.

If not that, it would break the monotony.

He whispered a hardly audible 'oops' and ignited his thrusters before he realized that he really should have thought things through.

The familiar smell of burning fuel combined with the deafening sound of ignited flame overwhelmed the relatively small quarters in a very short amount of time. Just as quickly as it had started, however, it came to a halt as Skywarp was propelled backwards and impacted the wall with his cranial unit. The next moment found him curled up in a semi-fetal position, holding onto his new dent with a sob of anguish.

"Oh holy mother of Megatron's rusted codpiece! I am very much hurt!" Skywarp cried, half exaggerated, yet also half serious.

Thundercracker, who had been forced to evacuate his bed for the umpteenth time that night, stood and stared at his wingmate with an expression that could only be described as 'bat-shit insane'.

"What. Just. Happened." Thundercracker's vocalizer crackled in his half-awake state. He had not even articulated it as a question, which Skywarp took as a bad sign.

Skywarp dared to glance up from his position on the floor, still holding his head as if it would soothe the pain and the many colorful varieties of error messages and diagnostic screens popping up in his peripheral vision.

"My thrusters ignited."

Thundercracker growled, staring.

Skywarp shook his head slowly, actually feeling the burning glare of his partner bore into his cranium.

"Stop staring at me please. It hurts."

Thundercracker let out another strangled noise from his vocalizer, sounding for all of the world as if he was choking on a taser. Skywarp almost asked him if he was indeed choking on a taser, but decided that he would probably not live to hear an answer if he did.

Skywarp uncurled from himself slowly, sitting up with all of the dignity that he could muster. He grinned sheepishly, lifting a hand to prod at the large dent in his helm.

"Thrusters malfunctioned… ha." He offered pathetically.

Thundercracker stared at him with deadly intention for a very, very long moment, before clenching his fists and plopping back down on his berth. Skywarp continued to have the decency to look sheepish as Thundercracker's glare stayed fixated on him.

The purple seeker squirmed under the harsh look.

"You know." Skywarp said quietly after an extensive period of awkwardly trying to meet Thundercracker's optics, but failing due to the radioactive aggravation-waves emitting from him. "I can't recharge when you're staring at me like you're going to hurt me."

"Skywarp, I am going to hurt you."

"Well now I really can't recharge."

Something within Thundercracker's physical make-up gave a mighty whirr before he began to slowly initiate a routine calm-down-sequence.

"You do know that I came this close to killing you, right?" Thundercracker held up his hand and held his thumb and index finger shockingly close to each other. "This close."

"Because my shoes blew up?"

"Because you are making it your personal goal to be as obnoxious as possible and my tolerance for you is dwindling at an alarming rate. You should fear for your life."

"Yet here I am, alive and dented."

"Do you really… truly get sick enjoyment out of doing this to me?"

Skywarp opened his mouth to reply, but Thundercracker simply lifted his hand to silence whatever inane reply that was about to fly from the darker Seeker's mouth.

"Nevermind, don't you dare answer that. Yes, you do. You are the punishment for something horrible and inhumane that I did in a past life. I have a target on my head, and you are the missile. You hate me and secretly took an oath to make my existence as miserable as possible. Or perhaps, somehow, I have taken on the aroma or something that only you are attracted to. Like the stench of dung beetle or tapioca pudding."

"I love the smell of tapioca pudding."

Thundercracker grunted.

"Have you been watching the Food Network?"

"Discovery. Now lay down and shut up."

Skywarp grinned an irresistible grin, hitching his shoulders nervously in a half-shrug. "Is this an indication that you'll share your berth?"

Thundercracker stared for an excruciatingly long moment, before his lips spread into a kind smile.

Skywarp's grin faltered, instantly transforming into a terrified gape.

"Oh, no." Thundercracker practically purred, slowly throwing his legs over the side of the berth. "I am going to offer you something even better."

Skywarp looked visibly nervous, not quite expecting… this.

"Really, it's okay. I don't need anything better, I just need… a… well, some of your… berth." He trailed off, as Thundercracker continued to smile unsettlingly in his direction.

Skywarp knew that Thundercracker was crabby, and occasionally deadly when shaken from recharge, but whatever this was made his fuel lines run cold.

He almost contemplated crawling back to the corner.

"Believe me Warp', you have already proven to me that you deserve nothing but the best."

"Well… I can make an exception." Skywarp shifted awkwardly.

"No, I would not ask you to do that. You know the saying: if you give a little slack you lose a mile."

Skywarp put an uneasy hand to his helm. "Um… right."

Thundercracker stood and made his way towards the slowly retreating mech, grabbing him by a wing as he passed. Skywarp struggled.

"Hey! The slag are you doing? No! You are NOT!" Skywarp desperately flailed about, wincing as Thundercracker's grip tightened on the edge of his wing. "Don't do this! Please don't! I'll be good! No! I need an adult!"

In a single, fluid motion, Thundercracker pressed down on the panel on his wall and tossed the purple seeker unceremoniously out of his now-open door and into the brightly-lit hallway. Skywarp, unprepared for such an awkward throw and unable to regain any form of balance or grace, flew forward and impacted the wall opposite of the door, falling backwards with a pitiful moan.

"And STAY out!"

Skywarp did not know how it was possible to slam an automatic door, but somehow his furious wingmate had managed it.

Thundercracker felt a great sense of satisfaction as he ambled back to his berth. He had genuinely tried to be nice. He had offered his insufferable companion a safe place to recharge, but he should have known better than to expect any form of respect in return. He was so sick of his wingmate's immature antics. It was not as if he was being cruel, there was just so much that a mech could and would take.

He did not feel a single shred of guilt for his actions.

For several long minutes he lay in his berth, listening intently for any noise or sign of intrusion. There was none. That small detail made his suspicions rise considerably. Skywarp was too stupid to know how to give up, so he would not have simply walked away from this situation. There had to be a-

Thundercracker stiffened at the sound of a familiar 'CLANK' for what seemed like the twentieth time that night, followed by the high-pitched 'screeeeeeeeeeeech' of Skywarp sliding his back down the outside of his door .

"Praxis, Vos, and Tarn, here it comes." Thundercracker cursed irritably to himself. He wondered for a moment if he would ever recharge again.

"So this is how it is…" Skywarp's condemning voice sounded from outside of his room. "Good to know where I stand in the scheme of things. Banished from the safety of my own wingmate's protection. Literally kicked out on my aft, defenseless, cold, and alone!" Skywarp cried.

Thundercracker's optics narrowed while he stared at his closed door at the opposite end of his quarters, arms irately crossed over his chest with internal systems humming their displeasure.

"-Where they will offline me. Permanently. They will melt me into scrap and sell me. Then I will be someone's new toaster. Every time I make a perfect piece of toast, I will think of you and your betrayal. I will haunt your dreams. You will begin see toast everywhere. It will be my curse to you. You will hear the sound of phantom toast popping, you will smell it, and then you will know that one cannot simply get away with cold-blooded betrayal. There are consequences for treachery. Once you betray someone, it is a permanent scar in the history of the universe. Negative energy is released and you will kill a tree. How could you live with yourself, TC? You are a horrible person. Did you know what? You are absolutely horrible. Where is the honor in this? Where is the honor, I ask you! How can you sleep knowing what is occurring within this very base?"

Thundercracker's wings were rigid as he listened to the pathetic spiel from outside of his doorway. Primus, Skywarp was persistent. Unfortunately, Thundercracker's patience was running in the negative numbers.

"I swear upon Vector Sigma's spherical shape, I will haunt you. I will haunt you so bad that you will never recharge again. Have you ever heard of possession? Yeah! Guess what I'd make you do! One word: CONHEADS."

Thundercracker could not hold back a tremor that shook his frame as he realized right then and there that Skywarp was thoroughly enjoying himself. He was not about to get bored, nor was he going to give up until he got what he wanted. Apparently, he also had a death wish, because Thundercracker's optics had darkened to a dangerous shade of crimson.

"It could all be avoided, too… but alas." There was a dramatic sigh. "I am nothing but a spare lugnut on Cybertron for the empties to fight over. Then one of them would drop me, I would roll away into the nearest drain, and fall into it. I would make a spectacular journey through the underlayer of Cybertron, where robosharks would fight over me, turborats would try to gnaw on my manly metal essence, and then I would eventually be found by some poor sparkling who would love and care for me forever and ever… perhaps I would be used to secure a panel in his father's false leg, which he would have lost in the war… but that is all besides the point. Point is, I WILL haunt you until your offlining day, where I shall therein harass you in the afterlife."

Thundercracker let out a ferocious snarl as he leaped, once again, from his berth, and stomped towards his door with all of the impressive malevolence of a sleep-deprived barbarian. His growl was mixed with the piercing sound of his hand slapping the door panel. The door flew open with all of the grace that Thundercracker lacked, and light from the hallway flooded in, revealing the undignified silhouette of Skywarp on his hands and knees mere inches from Thundercracker's legs, apparently previously shouting into the very small vent at the bottom of the door. Skywarp looked up from his position near the floor, his sheepish smile meeting Thundercracker's murderous sneer.

"I knew you weren't a sparkless tin can of bitter resentment." Skywarp said sweetly.


Skywarp's smile diminished as his optics flickered, standing upright and taking a hasty step backwards.

"Easy, TC… you're smoking. That can't be healthy."

"If you do not get in this room right fracking now…."

"Hulk smash…?" Skywarp concluded timidly, shrinking back a little.

"Get. IN." Thundercracker growled through clenched denta.

"Nuh-uh." Said Skywarp, slowly backing into the wall. "You're gonna hurt me."

"Very thoroughly. Now IN. THE. ROOM."

"I ain't going in there… What do you think I am? An idiot?"

A whirring cannon was at once thrust into his face.

"Ooohhh… guess you don't care. Right then. Going in." he held his hands up meekly, cautiously inching around Thundercracker and through the door, taking special care that his back was never exposed.


Skywarp practically leaped the rest of the way into the room, hands still peacefully held before him. He knew that Thundercracker would never really do serious damage, but if the fritzed expression on his face or the sizzling cranial unit was anything to go by, he would probably end up with a nice angry punch to the noseplates. He did not put it past him to purposely toss an aardvark into his turbines the next time they were on patrol, either. That was always an unfortunate (and absolutely disgusting) experience. Thundercracker tended to premeditate his revenge.

Thundercracker glowered at him, cannons still thrust threateningly at his head. Skywarp offered a charming smile, which only made Thundercracker's face darken further. The blue jet's optics flickered from Skywarp to the berth. He harshly gestured to the recharge-surface with his cannon before centering it back on Skywarp.

"On the berth." he all but barked.

Skywarp's optics flicked to the berth slightly behind him, then back to the whirring cannon on his friend's arm. Despite having a loaded weapon pointed at him, he couldn't help but smirk and put a jaunty hand on his hip.

"Why Thundercracker, I didn't know you felt that way about me."

Skywarp barely managed to finish his sentence before the room was filled with a loud whirr, instantly followed up with the sound of booming cannon-fire. He didn't even have time to move an inch before a warning-shot was fired inches from his head, impacting the wall behind him with a deafening crash. Skywarp's smirk was instantaneously reduced to a blank stare.

Silence ensued.

"You're not going to make any friends that way, you know."

The familiar sound of a whirring cannon filled the room once more.

"Eh." Skywarp smiled nervously, his self-preservation skills finally kicking in. "… Guess I'll get on the berth now…"

"Good idea." Thundercracker growled, deadly and dangerous.

Skywarp slowly backed to the berth, sat down cautiously so not to startle Thundercracker in any way, and felt an instant sense of satisfaction at the feel of the slightly flexible material underneath him. It was as if he had taken a seat upon a physical embodiment (a very comfortable physical embodiment) of victory.

His victory berth.

Any previous fear forgotten in his short-term-memory, he pushed himself off the ground with his heels, and landed sprawled on his back over the width of it. He shuttered his optics and reveled in the comfort—it sure beat any closet he had slept in thus far. He only onlined his optics again when he felt Thundercracker punch his thigh plating with unnecessary force.

"Move the slag over, you slagger."

He found himself scrambling over, having no desire to poke a Dinobot already on a rampage… metaphorically speaking. Thundercracker plopped moodily next to him, arms crossed in a huff and his back turned to the black and purple jet as if he did not even want to look at him.

"Oh, look what you did to your wall…" Skywarp lamented, getting his first good look at the consequence of the cannon-fire.

Skywarp yelped as Thundercracker kicked him harshly.

"Love ya too, TC."

"I hate you." Thundercracker snapped.

Skywarp chuckled, feeling too proud of his accomplishments to feel stung by Thundercracker's tone. Shuttering his optics and settling down onto his back, exhaustion instantly overtook him.

"Night', TC."

"I hope you die."

"Ooh, not likely. See you in the sun cycle."

Thundercracker's only reply was another harsh kick to his shin-plate.


"… I told you my chronometer dings."



A/N: One of my reviewers brought up a magnificent point: I write these guys like they are part of a sitcom. A sitcom with giant, armed robots. This thought has amused me endlessly since I read that review, and I have even come up with a theme song for the sitcom that I hope can be bludgeoned from my head before it is stuck there forever.

In any case, this story has finally been wrapped up in a nice, fluffy bow… made of swiss cheese. Because like this chapter, a swiss-cheese bow is just silly. Yet it is still a bow that completes the present.

Remind me never to get a career that allows me to create analogies.