Author's Note – As always, much love to Lunnaei, my soul-sister and first sounding board, and to MyAibou who not only is willing to beta fics for me in a fandom she's not familiar with but puts up with my making her "care about the BAD GUYS!" XD Luv ya, BB!
Disclaimer – "Transformers" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Hasbro, Takara, and any other related owners/distributors/producers. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters.
"California Cookin' "
This is slag. This is so much slag.
It wasn't the first time the complaint had crossed Thundercracker's processor. Considering he had no idea how much longer he still had to wait, he was pretty sure it wouldn't be the last, either.
He sat in alt-mode, parked on a runway among other blue fighter jets. The sun beat down on his back from a cloudless sky, threatening to blister his paint with its scorching heat. The unbearable humidity wasn't helping either, riding on the laden air currents through his seams and into his substructure to drive the high temperature deeper. Heat waves shimmering up off the ground played havoc with his short-range scanners and cooked his belly and the undersides of his wings. He'd already shunted the sensors around his landing gear. If his tires had melted to the tarmac the way it felt like they must have . . . he really didn't want to know it.
"Starscream, how much longer?" he asked over the comm link.
"Getting a little warm, Thundercracker?" The smirk in his trine leader's tone was unmistakable.
Thundercracker growled. "Why don't you come out and join me? I'd love the company." Not really. Just that if he had to endure this infernal misery, his trine should have to suffer with him.
"Hmmm..." Starscream made an audible show of considering it. "Nope. Think I'll pass, thanks."
"But Screamer, it's pretty slaggin' hot in here too." That was Skywarp. 'Here' was the nearby aircraft hangar in which he and Starscream were hiding.
"Don't call me that!" their trine leader snapped. Then he huffed, and seemed to grin. "At least it's not as bad as out there. So nice of the humans to provide fans for circulation. It really does help, all things considered."
Thundercracker growled again, louder this time, but his retort was cut off.
"RADIO SILENCE: EXPECTED." Soundwave's monotone voice broke into the comm frequency, stern in its warning. "OPERATION INFILTRATION: NOT TO BE COMPROMISED."
Busted! came Skywarp's lilting voice over the trinebond as he snickered. Thundercracker could also feel Starscream's smirk. They'd all commented, but Thundercracker was the one who'd initiated it, so breaking the radio silence fell primarily on him.
Thundercracker winced inwardly. "Copy, Soundwave," he acknowledged after a beat. Frag... He'd just have to bide his time.
He didn't know exactly what it was that Megatron wanted from this human celebration of military flight they simply called an "air show" . . . nor frankly, did he care anymore. His job was to hide among the jets apparently known as the "Blue Angels" until he was given the okay to attack. All he had to do was wait for Megatron's order and act when he was expected to, and he'd be fine.
Assuming his circuits didn't melt into a pool of useless scrap in his processor first.
I'm so slagged.
Author's Note – Admittedly no real plot or "point" to this, except that the image of TC stuck on a tarmac came to mind to me the other day while I was out running errands and noting how FREAKING HOT it's been and how much I hated climbing into my oven of a car after I'd been in a store or wherever for only ten minutes. There just might also be some influence from my excitement over the upcoming Miramar Air Show, which I've not been to for many, many years. Can't wait to watch the Blue Angels fly again! 8D