[IDW] Marry Me - Chapter Four
Aug. 31st, 2015 03:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Another chapter, woot! This is still SFW. And self-betaed so I won't be offended if you point out grammatical errors.
Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus, Swerve
Rated K+ for this chapter
Warnings only for some rather depressing thoughts from Swerve.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack
If there was one thing that truly irked Ultra Magnus – and Minibus Ambus – it was disorganization and lack of preparedness. Right now, he was wallowing in both. So while he let Swerve pick a place to sit, he went through the entirety of his office looking for something that would be of use for their current predicament.
Sadly, he feared most of the datapads of use were not only fiction, but only available behind the closed doors of Drift's habsuite, buried in Rodimus' desk, or in the back of Ratchet's closet. If the medic hadn't taken them with him.
Ultra Magnus had minimal experience of his own. Well, the persona Ultra Magnus at any rate. One of his previous incarnations had been quite the flirt. He had the vidfiles of that particular incarnation, but it wasn't quite the relationship ideal he was going for. He needed permanent, not 'whomever can be convinced into the berth.' Which back then turned out to be anyone said Magnus smiled at.
Harrumph.
Minimus Ambus' personal experience was thin at best. He'd been on dates here and there. He'd courted a lovely data clerk once. But once his loadbearer's spark was discovered and he'd been drafted into other duties, well, romance had fallen by the wayside. Far by the wayside. After all, Minimus Ambus became no more and Ultra Magnus was all who mattered and he could tell no one the farce. Not even his lover.
Better to keep to himself.
But where experience failed, there were always books. Manuals. Instructions. And Magnus had read quite a few of those. There was nothing wrong with a healthy desire to learn and one never knew when a piece of mild trivia became important.
Now would be one of those times. He'd studied the social requirements of courting in detail, hearkening back to that beautiful data clerk he'd left behind. He'd also studied, in depth, the laws surrounding relationships between members of command. Some of it was delineated in the Autobot Code, but for others, Ultra Magnus had needed to dig deeper for further clarification.
Optimus Prime had been distressingly unconcerned about what he considered appropriate and inappropriate behavior. He defaulted to Iacon Enforcer standard which essentially boiled down to happiness and consent and transfer if necessary. Rodimus had leapt upon such lax requirements for appropriate behavior and adopted them for the Lost Light as well.
He'd said, “There are enough of us in charge, Mags, that they can just report to someone else. Whatever. Don't make a big deal out of it. War's over. Let 'em get what they can out of it.”
Ultra Magnus could not argue with his commanding officer. Not matter how much it made him twitch. It had been one of the things he'd brought up to Tyrest and that... well, that wasn't worth thinking about anymore.
Rodimus' rules stood. He didn't even care about fraternization! He said, “so long as we aren't actively fighting them and they're not spies or whatever, who cares? Let it be, Mags. Let it be. Unbend. Unwind.”
Rodimus was quickly proving to be the burr in Ultra Magnus' armor. And yet, every time he looked at the flame-painted menace, it was with a rush of fondness. Because Rodimus had seen the Minimus within and it hadn't mattered.
So follow Rodimus he would. No matter what processor ache Rodimus gave him. Though their current situation was toeing the line.
Anyway, courting details. Dating protocols. Information. Data. He needed it.
Ultra Magnus finished rummaging through his neat stacks and selected a few datapads he thought would be most appropriate for the situation. These were what he took back to his desk, setting them down on top. He grabbed for his chair and was about to sit down when he noticed Swerve.
How in Primus' name were they to have this sort of conversation with Swerve all but on the other side of the room?
This was important. This task was delicate. It was highly personal. Ultra Magnus could not ask Swerve to pretend to be in love with him whilst a large desk was between them.
He frowned and cast about the room. He had no comfortable furniture like Rung so they could not share a couch. There was a lot less room on Swerve's side of the desk because the Magnus' office was not meant to be comfortable. Well, then. That left only one choice.
“Swerve, come sit beside me,” Ultra Magnus said, scooting his chair over to the side. “It is much more logical for us to discuss this while we are comfortable.”
Swerve slid down from his chair, gaze traveling between the empty space beside Magnus, and the space he currently occupied. “Comfortable,” he repeated. “Right.”
It was a rather large chair. Perhaps he needed assistance.
Ultra Magnus rose, leaned over the desk, grabbed the chair. He lifted it and set it beside himself. He adjusted it to a perfect angle and then patted the seat of it.
“Thanks,” Swerve said, a flash of something in his optical band. But it was there and back again before Ultra Magnus could identify it.
“You are welcome,” he said. “Courtesy is part and parcel to the role we are going to play. I wish to treat you with the utmost respect and while I try to do that anyway, I must take it to another level. Best to get the practice in now.”
Swerve audibly cycled a ventilation. “Practice,” he repeated. “Right.”
He grinned before circling the desk and taking the seat. He was near enough now that Ultra Magnus could detect the edges of his field and the wariness mixed with apprehension.
Well, Ultra Magnus supposed that this particular room did not make for comfort. He had hauled Swerve in here more than a few times for misconduct. It would be a waste of time to change locations, however. Perhaps Swerve would relax with time.
“Now,” Ultra Magnus said, reaching for the first datapad on the stack. “Rodimus has gotten us into this debacle, but it is our duty to get him out of it. The only way to ensure we do not fail is if we are adequately prepared.” He frowned, inwardly casting aspersions toward Rodimus. “Recent event notwithstanding.”
“Kinda hard to prepare for Rodimus, huh?” Swerve said as he flicked on the datapad. “He's unpredictable.”
“The very definition of the term,” Ultra Magnus agreed. He turned toward Swerve, leaning close so that the minibot could see the datapad as well. “Firstly, clarification. Circumstances as they are, we are now 'engaged' with a pending wedding. We need to decide what that means for us. What we are comfortable with.”
Swerve let out a quiet chuckle. “Comfortable. Uh-huh. First we need background, right? Because they were bombarding me with questions earlier, and I couldn’t answer them because I didn't know what you were saying, and I didn't want to contradict anything.”
“A wise decision.”
Never let it be said that Swerve was stupid. He simply made poor decisions. But then, that was true of one-hundred percent of the residents of the Lost Light, including Ultra Magnus. Everyone made mistakes.
“Do you have any suggestions?” Ultra Magnus asked.
Swerve fiddled with the datapad. “It has to be believable,” he started and let out another small laugh, though it didn't sound very amused. “Which means it's already a bit too late for that.”
“Not precisely. I am a private individual, wouldn't you say?” Ultra Magnus suggested. He pulled out his own datapad, powering it on. “It is quite plausible that we have been keeping our relationship a secret, especially given the usual behavior of the riffraff aboard this vessel.”
“Riffraff.” Swerve blinked at him and laughed, genuine this time. “I'd say I'm insulted but that's probably true. I don't know how Rodimus did it, but he seems to attract all of the, uh, weird ones.”
“Indeed.” A touch of humor curved Ultra Magnus' mouth. He considered himself one of the 'weird ones.' Though certainly not riffraff. “A good starting point, I think, is Hedonia. It is plausible and anyone looking into it will remember that we interacted.”
Swerve coughed into his hand. “Right...” He fiddled with the datapad. “And we kept it a secret because everyone here teases everyone else mercilessly unless you're Cyclonus. Or Whirl, in which case you don't care who you're going to tease or what pointy object gets shoved in your face. Or optic.”
Ultra Magnus blinked. He tried to disentangle that rush of words and then decided it wasn't relevant and kept going. “Also, I did not want to play favorites or be seen as unprofessional. The personage of Ultra Magnus is very important.” He paused, something occurring to him. “Your behavior might be a point of contention.”
“My behavior?” Swerve's visor flickered.
Here it became Ultra Magnus' turn to hesitate with discomfort. How to put this delicately? “You are, as they say, something of a... a flirt.” He shifted again, the chair creaking beneath him. “Which might seem counter to being in an established relationship.”
“We could have an open relationship?” Swerve suggested, but the heat around his face spiked by several degrees from the mere mention.
“I do not see anyone believing that.”
“Yeah, neither do I.” Swerve's shoulders sagged a little. His field spiked and flattened, still that weird mix of anxiety and wariness. “Maybe it was a cover? You know. So no one would realize we were dating on the down low. Keep up appearances. That sort of thing?”
“Hmmm.” Ultra Magnus supposed it made sense. “And given your admission that you did have a partner, we decided there was little point in further perpetuating a ruse.” Ah, the irony.
Truth mixed into falsehood. He remembered once reading that the best lies had a little truth in them. That certainly seemed apt now.
“And also because you asked me to marry me,” Swerve said. “Because that would have come out eventually so we decided we might as well tell everybody so they could get used to it before the wedding.”
“That is acceptable.” Ultra Magnus made notes of their 'backstory' on his datapad, remembering to CC Swerve on the final draft so that he would have notes to study. “Now what about public displays of affection? These are essential demonstrations of a couple's fondness for each other.”
Swerve sagged a little in his seat. His faceplates once again registered heat. “You're, um, not much for touching people.”
“No, I am not.” Ultra Magnus sighed. “What is acceptable to you?”
Swerve's gaze suddenly found the wall very fascinating. He rebooted his vocalizer twice; Ultra Magnus counted the clicks. He fidgeted in his chair.
“Casual touching should be all right,” he said. “What you did in the bar, your hand on my, um, your hand on my back. That's okay.” The wall continued to fascinate him.
Ultra Magnus made note of it. “Casual,” he repeated. “Such as a hand on the shoulder, upper back, and lower back. Hand-holding, I assume, is also acceptable. Or a close approximation of it.” He paused, remembering the odd sight of Swerve loitering near the table in the bar as though he needed permission. “You may approach me at any time without fear of reprisal. You should be comfortable in my presence.”
“Got it.” Swerve's gaze wandered back, though this time with intense focus on the datapad. “Um, Rewind uses 'Domey' a lot. I'm not suggesting that I give you something cutesy or whatever but...”
Ultra Magnus tried not to twitch. “I suppose, given our relationship, 'Mags' would not be inappropriate. If used sparingly.” He loathed the mangling of his name, but if it helped Swerve feel more comfortable, he could tolerate it for now.
It was only for two weeks.
0o0o0
Was there a more awkward start to a relationship, even a fake one? Swerve didn't know. But sitting here officially declaring the different aspects of their fake engagement was, well, borderline ridiculous. He half-suspected Ultra Magnus to whip out a contract or something for him to sign.
Anyway.
So far, at least, it was all stuff that Swerve would have no problem remembering. Nothing terribly romantic or anything. In fact, anyone on the outside looking in would find no issues.
Except Swerve wondered, what about the important things? The tiny little details that defined a relationship? The personal things?
That was where Swerve hit a road block because, well, he already knew a lot about Ultra Magnus. Probably a lot more than the casual observer slash occasional miscreant should know. In fact, one might almost call it a bit creepy.
Like, he knew Ultra Magnus' favorite drink. This could be excused easily enough. Swerve was a bartender. He made drinks. He had regulars. He knew their drinks, too. Maybe he didn't know what specific engex matched their mood like he did Ultra Magnus. But still. He could explain that.
The other stuff? Not so much.
Who else would know Ultra Magnus' favorite music? Who knew Ultra Magnus listened to music?
Or that Magnus organized his datapads not by title but by author. Because it was more aesthetically pleasing to him. And that Ultra Magnus had actually read every datapad he owned because he liked knowledge no matter what application it might have in the future. If any.
Or that Magnus liked to sit so that he could see most if not all of the room. He didn't like baring his back to unknown entities.
Little things like that. Swerve shouldn't admit to knowing before but could admit now because they were engaged. Fake engaged, but still. He had an excuse to know it. But that didn't explain why he already knew these things.
And worse. Eventually they'd have to go back to normal. Once Rodimus was saved and they were far from Exelon Five, he and Ultra Magnus could tell everyone that the engagement was fake and wasn't it hilarious? And he and Ultra Magnus would have to go back to being third in command and bartender with no relationship between them.
Dear Primus. What had he gotten himself into? How was he supposed to flip flop between that? How could he go from pretending one thing to pretending something else?
How was he going to stop himself from touching Ultra Magnus in the future if he started now? How was he going to forget these intimate details later? How could he forget how nice Ultra Magnus was being, even now, when he'd only seen the stern and authoritative Magnus before.
How was any of it going to help this ache suddenly building in his spark?
No. This was not okay. He was not okay with this at all. And it was too late for him to turn back. Too late to pull out and tell Ultra Magnus to find someone else. Because surprise, surprise. Rodimus had jumped the gun and none of them were prepared for it, least of all Swerve.
Rodimus' life was on the line. And who was to say that the Exelons wouldn't just execute them all for daring to lie? Who's to say they wouldn't go after Ultra Magnus next? And then Swerve?
He was trapped.
Swerve's ventilations hitched. He tightened his grip on the datapad Ultra Magnus had given him, one that was slowly filling with updates on the details of their fake relationship.
How was he supposed to do this? He couldn't even ask anyone for advice. No one else was supposed to know!
“Swerve?”
He blinked and forced himself to ventilate. “I... uh...” And now he sounded like an idiot. What were they last talking about?
“I don't have a nickname,” Swerve blurted.
Ultra Magnus blinked at him. “I asked about your favorite activities.”
“Oh.” Yep. Idiot. There he was. “I like to stargaze and experiment with engex mixes and work on my marksmanship.” Because it was universally known that Swerve was a terrible shot.
He watched as Ultra Magnus scribbled the notes down. “We will have to spend time together in public now,” he said. “Interaction must be initiated between you and myself in equally amounts.”
“You mean dates?”
“Yes.” Ultra Magnus didn't even look at him when he said that. “Though those may not be necessary. The Grand Regent just sent me the itinerary for the celebrations they have planned and there are... many.”
He frowned and it wasn't his angry frown, just a confused one. It was one of Swerve's favorite frowns.
“The first will be tomorrow night,” Ultra Magnus added and Swerve's datapad pinged as the invitation and reminder popped up on a calender. “In a local bar. It appears to be a casual affair, but our attendance is mandatory. No doubt they wish to view the happy couple.”
Oh, yay. A mandatory first date. This could not possibly be more romantic. Swerve would try to contain his enthusiasm.
He nodded. “We should probably arrive together, right? To put on a good show.”
His spark swelled. Swerve reminded himself not to think too much of it. It was fake, he fiercely reminded himself.
Fake, fake, fake, fake--
“That is a good idea.” Ultra Magnus made another note of it. “We could leave from here together. Perhaps I could pick you up from your bar?”
“Works for me.” Swerve injected as much happiness into his vocals as he could spare. In fact, he channeled Tailgate just to make it seem legit. “It'll be nice to go to a party where I'm not the one doing the serving.”
A touch of amusement entered Ultra Magnus' field. “Indeed,” he said. His stylus flicked across the datapad before he lowered it and gave Swerve his full attention. “Are there any other concerns you wish to address?”
Was he squirming? He hoped he wasn't squirming. It was too late to back out and he definitely wasn't going to tell Ultra Magnus all the reasons this was a bad idea.
“No,” Swerve said. “Not that I can think of at the moment. But I know where to find you if I do.” Ugh. That didn't sound creepy at all either.
“Indeed you do.” Ultra Magnus gave him a long look before he went back to his datapad. “I will suggest that we have regular meetings, however. Both to exchange information and to cement our cover. That way we do not have to worry about conflicting details. Does that seem fair?”
Swerve nodded.
“Glad you agree. Feel free to contact me if you have any concerns outside of our regularly scheduled meetings.”
Swerve's datapad dinged a new message, this one with a series of meetings arranged between himself and Ultra Magnus. If anyone ever got a hold of this datapad, their ruse would be revealed. Swerve reminded himself to put it somewhere no one could find it. Given that he shared his habsuite with no one, that shouldn't be too much of an issue.
Ultra Magnus was quiet as his stylus moved over his datapad and Swerve watched him, waiting for the rest. He told himself to follow Ultra Magnus' lead no matter what. Lest he embarrass himself and reveal something he ought not.
Two weeks, he reminded himself. Or even less if they could get that collar off Rodimus and make their escape. After which Exelon Five would be a planet they would never, ever return to.
“There.” Ultra Magnus' stylus swept off the datapad with a sense of finality and he turned and placed it on the desk. “I think that is all we need cover for tonight. We have a plan of action, we have a code of conduct, and we have a fully realized relationship that should stand up to scrutiny.”
“Sounds like we have all we need then,” Swerve said and he hopped off the chair, skirting around it and the desk.
Being that close to Ultra Magnus the entire time had been more than a little unnerving. He'd felt every ex-vent and Ultra Magnus radiated heat. Maybe he should see Ratch-- err, First Aid about that. Maybe his cooling system wasn't running efficiently.
Or maybe Swerve was imagining things and really needed to put some distance between them.
“So I suppose I'll see you tomorrow,” Swerve continued, tucking his new datapad under his arm. “It's getting late after all and I'll have to get an early start on tomorrow. Blue makes for a great assistant, but not so great at the cleaning. So, you know, I'll have to take care of that.”
Ultra Magnus rose to his pedes. “Nonsense,” he said. “What sort of partner would I be if I sent you to your room alone?”
Swerve's ventilations stalled. Surely Ultra Magnus didn't mean to... to... share a room? A berth? No way would they fit! Not unless Swerve recharged on top of Ultra Magnus and dear Primus, that was not a mental image he was prepared to accept or put into practice!
“Um,” Swerve said.
“It is standard procedure.” Ultra Magnus circled the desk and preceded Swerve to the door, keying the panel for it to open. “Especially in most courting practices. It will also do us good if I am seen walking you to your habsuite.”
All of the gathered air left Swerve in a whoosh. Escorting. Phew. He could handle that.
“You're right,” he was quick to say, hoping that he didn't stammer. “And appearances are what's important.”
Ultra Magnus fell into step beside him, this time matching his pace to Swerve's instead of the other way around. And it felt more than odd to be walking beside Ultra Magnus without a pair of cuffs on his wrists.
Not like that!
His imagination was out of control. Swerve shook his head to clear his thoughts. This was going to be difficult enough with daydreams taking over.
“Swerve?”
“Oh, nothing. Just a thought.” He beamed a smile up at Ultra Magnus. “I have those. From time to time. But doesn't everybody? Ha ha.”
Ultra Magnus blinked, but didn't push the issue.
Sadly, the corridors were deserted and there was no one to witness Ultra Magnus escorting Swerve back to his quarters. What a wasted chance of being seen together. Hopefully whoever was on monitor duty was the gossiping sort. Well, more than the usual anyway. Swerve didn't think there was a single mech on the Lost Light who didn't gossip.
And what would they see anyway? Just Swerve and Ultra Magnus walking next to each other silently. Lost in their own thoughts. Which was probably not helpful.
Chromedome and Rewind were always talking to each other. They were always touching, too. Small things, barely noticeable, but you couldn't look at them without thinking they were obviously together.
“Thanks for the datapad,” Swerve said to fill the silence.
“You are welcome.” Ultra Magnus made a noise of contemplation and rubbed his jaw. “I shall consider other gifts. They are also acceptable methods of display.”
Display. Right. Everything for the ruse.
Swerve sighed and thanked Primus when his habsuite came into sight. He didn't quite run to his door, but it was a near thing.
“Well, thanks for making sure I got here safely,” Swerve said with a little laugh. “Can't be too careful with all the, uh, riffraff around here.” He beamed up at Ultra Magnus and was utterly shocked to find Ultra Magnus giving him a genuine smile in return.
It was small and soft, but it was a smile and it left Swerve absolutely floored.
“No, you cannot,” Ultra Magnus agreed. “Good recharge, Swerve. And thank you for all your help. I am quite sure Rodimus is grateful as well.”
Rodimus. Right.
Swerve absolutely did not deflate. “Well, you know how it is, anything for Rodimus.” He fumbled at the door panel and was relieved when it slid open. “Good night!”
He dove into his habsuite before Ultra Magnus could say anything else that would leave Swerve simultaneously elated and disappointed. The door slid shut behind him and Swerve braced himself against it, ex-venting a long, slow cycle.
His head thunked back against the door. He was in over his head. He was so in over his head it wasn't even funny anymore.
***
a/n: Slowly but surely we're getting into the plot here. Coming up next, the big celebration. More awkward dancing around each other. More Rodimus hijinks. More uncomfortable moments. Stay tuned!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus, Swerve
Rated K+ for this chapter
Warnings only for some rather depressing thoughts from Swerve.
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack
Marry Me – Chapter Four
If there was one thing that truly irked Ultra Magnus – and Minibus Ambus – it was disorganization and lack of preparedness. Right now, he was wallowing in both. So while he let Swerve pick a place to sit, he went through the entirety of his office looking for something that would be of use for their current predicament.
Sadly, he feared most of the datapads of use were not only fiction, but only available behind the closed doors of Drift's habsuite, buried in Rodimus' desk, or in the back of Ratchet's closet. If the medic hadn't taken them with him.
Ultra Magnus had minimal experience of his own. Well, the persona Ultra Magnus at any rate. One of his previous incarnations had been quite the flirt. He had the vidfiles of that particular incarnation, but it wasn't quite the relationship ideal he was going for. He needed permanent, not 'whomever can be convinced into the berth.' Which back then turned out to be anyone said Magnus smiled at.
Harrumph.
Minimus Ambus' personal experience was thin at best. He'd been on dates here and there. He'd courted a lovely data clerk once. But once his loadbearer's spark was discovered and he'd been drafted into other duties, well, romance had fallen by the wayside. Far by the wayside. After all, Minimus Ambus became no more and Ultra Magnus was all who mattered and he could tell no one the farce. Not even his lover.
Better to keep to himself.
But where experience failed, there were always books. Manuals. Instructions. And Magnus had read quite a few of those. There was nothing wrong with a healthy desire to learn and one never knew when a piece of mild trivia became important.
Now would be one of those times. He'd studied the social requirements of courting in detail, hearkening back to that beautiful data clerk he'd left behind. He'd also studied, in depth, the laws surrounding relationships between members of command. Some of it was delineated in the Autobot Code, but for others, Ultra Magnus had needed to dig deeper for further clarification.
Optimus Prime had been distressingly unconcerned about what he considered appropriate and inappropriate behavior. He defaulted to Iacon Enforcer standard which essentially boiled down to happiness and consent and transfer if necessary. Rodimus had leapt upon such lax requirements for appropriate behavior and adopted them for the Lost Light as well.
He'd said, “There are enough of us in charge, Mags, that they can just report to someone else. Whatever. Don't make a big deal out of it. War's over. Let 'em get what they can out of it.”
Ultra Magnus could not argue with his commanding officer. Not matter how much it made him twitch. It had been one of the things he'd brought up to Tyrest and that... well, that wasn't worth thinking about anymore.
Rodimus' rules stood. He didn't even care about fraternization! He said, “so long as we aren't actively fighting them and they're not spies or whatever, who cares? Let it be, Mags. Let it be. Unbend. Unwind.”
Rodimus was quickly proving to be the burr in Ultra Magnus' armor. And yet, every time he looked at the flame-painted menace, it was with a rush of fondness. Because Rodimus had seen the Minimus within and it hadn't mattered.
So follow Rodimus he would. No matter what processor ache Rodimus gave him. Though their current situation was toeing the line.
Anyway, courting details. Dating protocols. Information. Data. He needed it.
Ultra Magnus finished rummaging through his neat stacks and selected a few datapads he thought would be most appropriate for the situation. These were what he took back to his desk, setting them down on top. He grabbed for his chair and was about to sit down when he noticed Swerve.
How in Primus' name were they to have this sort of conversation with Swerve all but on the other side of the room?
This was important. This task was delicate. It was highly personal. Ultra Magnus could not ask Swerve to pretend to be in love with him whilst a large desk was between them.
He frowned and cast about the room. He had no comfortable furniture like Rung so they could not share a couch. There was a lot less room on Swerve's side of the desk because the Magnus' office was not meant to be comfortable. Well, then. That left only one choice.
“Swerve, come sit beside me,” Ultra Magnus said, scooting his chair over to the side. “It is much more logical for us to discuss this while we are comfortable.”
Swerve slid down from his chair, gaze traveling between the empty space beside Magnus, and the space he currently occupied. “Comfortable,” he repeated. “Right.”
It was a rather large chair. Perhaps he needed assistance.
Ultra Magnus rose, leaned over the desk, grabbed the chair. He lifted it and set it beside himself. He adjusted it to a perfect angle and then patted the seat of it.
“Thanks,” Swerve said, a flash of something in his optical band. But it was there and back again before Ultra Magnus could identify it.
“You are welcome,” he said. “Courtesy is part and parcel to the role we are going to play. I wish to treat you with the utmost respect and while I try to do that anyway, I must take it to another level. Best to get the practice in now.”
Swerve audibly cycled a ventilation. “Practice,” he repeated. “Right.”
He grinned before circling the desk and taking the seat. He was near enough now that Ultra Magnus could detect the edges of his field and the wariness mixed with apprehension.
Well, Ultra Magnus supposed that this particular room did not make for comfort. He had hauled Swerve in here more than a few times for misconduct. It would be a waste of time to change locations, however. Perhaps Swerve would relax with time.
“Now,” Ultra Magnus said, reaching for the first datapad on the stack. “Rodimus has gotten us into this debacle, but it is our duty to get him out of it. The only way to ensure we do not fail is if we are adequately prepared.” He frowned, inwardly casting aspersions toward Rodimus. “Recent event notwithstanding.”
“Kinda hard to prepare for Rodimus, huh?” Swerve said as he flicked on the datapad. “He's unpredictable.”
“The very definition of the term,” Ultra Magnus agreed. He turned toward Swerve, leaning close so that the minibot could see the datapad as well. “Firstly, clarification. Circumstances as they are, we are now 'engaged' with a pending wedding. We need to decide what that means for us. What we are comfortable with.”
Swerve let out a quiet chuckle. “Comfortable. Uh-huh. First we need background, right? Because they were bombarding me with questions earlier, and I couldn’t answer them because I didn't know what you were saying, and I didn't want to contradict anything.”
“A wise decision.”
Never let it be said that Swerve was stupid. He simply made poor decisions. But then, that was true of one-hundred percent of the residents of the Lost Light, including Ultra Magnus. Everyone made mistakes.
“Do you have any suggestions?” Ultra Magnus asked.
Swerve fiddled with the datapad. “It has to be believable,” he started and let out another small laugh, though it didn't sound very amused. “Which means it's already a bit too late for that.”
“Not precisely. I am a private individual, wouldn't you say?” Ultra Magnus suggested. He pulled out his own datapad, powering it on. “It is quite plausible that we have been keeping our relationship a secret, especially given the usual behavior of the riffraff aboard this vessel.”
“Riffraff.” Swerve blinked at him and laughed, genuine this time. “I'd say I'm insulted but that's probably true. I don't know how Rodimus did it, but he seems to attract all of the, uh, weird ones.”
“Indeed.” A touch of humor curved Ultra Magnus' mouth. He considered himself one of the 'weird ones.' Though certainly not riffraff. “A good starting point, I think, is Hedonia. It is plausible and anyone looking into it will remember that we interacted.”
Swerve coughed into his hand. “Right...” He fiddled with the datapad. “And we kept it a secret because everyone here teases everyone else mercilessly unless you're Cyclonus. Or Whirl, in which case you don't care who you're going to tease or what pointy object gets shoved in your face. Or optic.”
Ultra Magnus blinked. He tried to disentangle that rush of words and then decided it wasn't relevant and kept going. “Also, I did not want to play favorites or be seen as unprofessional. The personage of Ultra Magnus is very important.” He paused, something occurring to him. “Your behavior might be a point of contention.”
“My behavior?” Swerve's visor flickered.
Here it became Ultra Magnus' turn to hesitate with discomfort. How to put this delicately? “You are, as they say, something of a... a flirt.” He shifted again, the chair creaking beneath him. “Which might seem counter to being in an established relationship.”
“We could have an open relationship?” Swerve suggested, but the heat around his face spiked by several degrees from the mere mention.
“I do not see anyone believing that.”
“Yeah, neither do I.” Swerve's shoulders sagged a little. His field spiked and flattened, still that weird mix of anxiety and wariness. “Maybe it was a cover? You know. So no one would realize we were dating on the down low. Keep up appearances. That sort of thing?”
“Hmmm.” Ultra Magnus supposed it made sense. “And given your admission that you did have a partner, we decided there was little point in further perpetuating a ruse.” Ah, the irony.
Truth mixed into falsehood. He remembered once reading that the best lies had a little truth in them. That certainly seemed apt now.
“And also because you asked me to marry me,” Swerve said. “Because that would have come out eventually so we decided we might as well tell everybody so they could get used to it before the wedding.”
“That is acceptable.” Ultra Magnus made notes of their 'backstory' on his datapad, remembering to CC Swerve on the final draft so that he would have notes to study. “Now what about public displays of affection? These are essential demonstrations of a couple's fondness for each other.”
Swerve sagged a little in his seat. His faceplates once again registered heat. “You're, um, not much for touching people.”
“No, I am not.” Ultra Magnus sighed. “What is acceptable to you?”
Swerve's gaze suddenly found the wall very fascinating. He rebooted his vocalizer twice; Ultra Magnus counted the clicks. He fidgeted in his chair.
“Casual touching should be all right,” he said. “What you did in the bar, your hand on my, um, your hand on my back. That's okay.” The wall continued to fascinate him.
Ultra Magnus made note of it. “Casual,” he repeated. “Such as a hand on the shoulder, upper back, and lower back. Hand-holding, I assume, is also acceptable. Or a close approximation of it.” He paused, remembering the odd sight of Swerve loitering near the table in the bar as though he needed permission. “You may approach me at any time without fear of reprisal. You should be comfortable in my presence.”
“Got it.” Swerve's gaze wandered back, though this time with intense focus on the datapad. “Um, Rewind uses 'Domey' a lot. I'm not suggesting that I give you something cutesy or whatever but...”
Ultra Magnus tried not to twitch. “I suppose, given our relationship, 'Mags' would not be inappropriate. If used sparingly.” He loathed the mangling of his name, but if it helped Swerve feel more comfortable, he could tolerate it for now.
It was only for two weeks.
Was there a more awkward start to a relationship, even a fake one? Swerve didn't know. But sitting here officially declaring the different aspects of their fake engagement was, well, borderline ridiculous. He half-suspected Ultra Magnus to whip out a contract or something for him to sign.
Anyway.
So far, at least, it was all stuff that Swerve would have no problem remembering. Nothing terribly romantic or anything. In fact, anyone on the outside looking in would find no issues.
Except Swerve wondered, what about the important things? The tiny little details that defined a relationship? The personal things?
That was where Swerve hit a road block because, well, he already knew a lot about Ultra Magnus. Probably a lot more than the casual observer slash occasional miscreant should know. In fact, one might almost call it a bit creepy.
Like, he knew Ultra Magnus' favorite drink. This could be excused easily enough. Swerve was a bartender. He made drinks. He had regulars. He knew their drinks, too. Maybe he didn't know what specific engex matched their mood like he did Ultra Magnus. But still. He could explain that.
The other stuff? Not so much.
Who else would know Ultra Magnus' favorite music? Who knew Ultra Magnus listened to music?
Or that Magnus organized his datapads not by title but by author. Because it was more aesthetically pleasing to him. And that Ultra Magnus had actually read every datapad he owned because he liked knowledge no matter what application it might have in the future. If any.
Or that Magnus liked to sit so that he could see most if not all of the room. He didn't like baring his back to unknown entities.
Little things like that. Swerve shouldn't admit to knowing before but could admit now because they were engaged. Fake engaged, but still. He had an excuse to know it. But that didn't explain why he already knew these things.
And worse. Eventually they'd have to go back to normal. Once Rodimus was saved and they were far from Exelon Five, he and Ultra Magnus could tell everyone that the engagement was fake and wasn't it hilarious? And he and Ultra Magnus would have to go back to being third in command and bartender with no relationship between them.
Dear Primus. What had he gotten himself into? How was he supposed to flip flop between that? How could he go from pretending one thing to pretending something else?
How was he going to stop himself from touching Ultra Magnus in the future if he started now? How was he going to forget these intimate details later? How could he forget how nice Ultra Magnus was being, even now, when he'd only seen the stern and authoritative Magnus before.
How was any of it going to help this ache suddenly building in his spark?
No. This was not okay. He was not okay with this at all. And it was too late for him to turn back. Too late to pull out and tell Ultra Magnus to find someone else. Because surprise, surprise. Rodimus had jumped the gun and none of them were prepared for it, least of all Swerve.
Rodimus' life was on the line. And who was to say that the Exelons wouldn't just execute them all for daring to lie? Who's to say they wouldn't go after Ultra Magnus next? And then Swerve?
He was trapped.
Swerve's ventilations hitched. He tightened his grip on the datapad Ultra Magnus had given him, one that was slowly filling with updates on the details of their fake relationship.
How was he supposed to do this? He couldn't even ask anyone for advice. No one else was supposed to know!
“Swerve?”
He blinked and forced himself to ventilate. “I... uh...” And now he sounded like an idiot. What were they last talking about?
“I don't have a nickname,” Swerve blurted.
Ultra Magnus blinked at him. “I asked about your favorite activities.”
“Oh.” Yep. Idiot. There he was. “I like to stargaze and experiment with engex mixes and work on my marksmanship.” Because it was universally known that Swerve was a terrible shot.
He watched as Ultra Magnus scribbled the notes down. “We will have to spend time together in public now,” he said. “Interaction must be initiated between you and myself in equally amounts.”
“You mean dates?”
“Yes.” Ultra Magnus didn't even look at him when he said that. “Though those may not be necessary. The Grand Regent just sent me the itinerary for the celebrations they have planned and there are... many.”
He frowned and it wasn't his angry frown, just a confused one. It was one of Swerve's favorite frowns.
“The first will be tomorrow night,” Ultra Magnus added and Swerve's datapad pinged as the invitation and reminder popped up on a calender. “In a local bar. It appears to be a casual affair, but our attendance is mandatory. No doubt they wish to view the happy couple.”
Oh, yay. A mandatory first date. This could not possibly be more romantic. Swerve would try to contain his enthusiasm.
He nodded. “We should probably arrive together, right? To put on a good show.”
His spark swelled. Swerve reminded himself not to think too much of it. It was fake, he fiercely reminded himself.
Fake, fake, fake, fake--
“That is a good idea.” Ultra Magnus made another note of it. “We could leave from here together. Perhaps I could pick you up from your bar?”
“Works for me.” Swerve injected as much happiness into his vocals as he could spare. In fact, he channeled Tailgate just to make it seem legit. “It'll be nice to go to a party where I'm not the one doing the serving.”
A touch of amusement entered Ultra Magnus' field. “Indeed,” he said. His stylus flicked across the datapad before he lowered it and gave Swerve his full attention. “Are there any other concerns you wish to address?”
Was he squirming? He hoped he wasn't squirming. It was too late to back out and he definitely wasn't going to tell Ultra Magnus all the reasons this was a bad idea.
“No,” Swerve said. “Not that I can think of at the moment. But I know where to find you if I do.” Ugh. That didn't sound creepy at all either.
“Indeed you do.” Ultra Magnus gave him a long look before he went back to his datapad. “I will suggest that we have regular meetings, however. Both to exchange information and to cement our cover. That way we do not have to worry about conflicting details. Does that seem fair?”
Swerve nodded.
“Glad you agree. Feel free to contact me if you have any concerns outside of our regularly scheduled meetings.”
Swerve's datapad dinged a new message, this one with a series of meetings arranged between himself and Ultra Magnus. If anyone ever got a hold of this datapad, their ruse would be revealed. Swerve reminded himself to put it somewhere no one could find it. Given that he shared his habsuite with no one, that shouldn't be too much of an issue.
Ultra Magnus was quiet as his stylus moved over his datapad and Swerve watched him, waiting for the rest. He told himself to follow Ultra Magnus' lead no matter what. Lest he embarrass himself and reveal something he ought not.
Two weeks, he reminded himself. Or even less if they could get that collar off Rodimus and make their escape. After which Exelon Five would be a planet they would never, ever return to.
“There.” Ultra Magnus' stylus swept off the datapad with a sense of finality and he turned and placed it on the desk. “I think that is all we need cover for tonight. We have a plan of action, we have a code of conduct, and we have a fully realized relationship that should stand up to scrutiny.”
“Sounds like we have all we need then,” Swerve said and he hopped off the chair, skirting around it and the desk.
Being that close to Ultra Magnus the entire time had been more than a little unnerving. He'd felt every ex-vent and Ultra Magnus radiated heat. Maybe he should see Ratch-- err, First Aid about that. Maybe his cooling system wasn't running efficiently.
Or maybe Swerve was imagining things and really needed to put some distance between them.
“So I suppose I'll see you tomorrow,” Swerve continued, tucking his new datapad under his arm. “It's getting late after all and I'll have to get an early start on tomorrow. Blue makes for a great assistant, but not so great at the cleaning. So, you know, I'll have to take care of that.”
Ultra Magnus rose to his pedes. “Nonsense,” he said. “What sort of partner would I be if I sent you to your room alone?”
Swerve's ventilations stalled. Surely Ultra Magnus didn't mean to... to... share a room? A berth? No way would they fit! Not unless Swerve recharged on top of Ultra Magnus and dear Primus, that was not a mental image he was prepared to accept or put into practice!
“Um,” Swerve said.
“It is standard procedure.” Ultra Magnus circled the desk and preceded Swerve to the door, keying the panel for it to open. “Especially in most courting practices. It will also do us good if I am seen walking you to your habsuite.”
All of the gathered air left Swerve in a whoosh. Escorting. Phew. He could handle that.
“You're right,” he was quick to say, hoping that he didn't stammer. “And appearances are what's important.”
Ultra Magnus fell into step beside him, this time matching his pace to Swerve's instead of the other way around. And it felt more than odd to be walking beside Ultra Magnus without a pair of cuffs on his wrists.
Not like that!
His imagination was out of control. Swerve shook his head to clear his thoughts. This was going to be difficult enough with daydreams taking over.
“Swerve?”
“Oh, nothing. Just a thought.” He beamed a smile up at Ultra Magnus. “I have those. From time to time. But doesn't everybody? Ha ha.”
Ultra Magnus blinked, but didn't push the issue.
Sadly, the corridors were deserted and there was no one to witness Ultra Magnus escorting Swerve back to his quarters. What a wasted chance of being seen together. Hopefully whoever was on monitor duty was the gossiping sort. Well, more than the usual anyway. Swerve didn't think there was a single mech on the Lost Light who didn't gossip.
And what would they see anyway? Just Swerve and Ultra Magnus walking next to each other silently. Lost in their own thoughts. Which was probably not helpful.
Chromedome and Rewind were always talking to each other. They were always touching, too. Small things, barely noticeable, but you couldn't look at them without thinking they were obviously together.
“Thanks for the datapad,” Swerve said to fill the silence.
“You are welcome.” Ultra Magnus made a noise of contemplation and rubbed his jaw. “I shall consider other gifts. They are also acceptable methods of display.”
Display. Right. Everything for the ruse.
Swerve sighed and thanked Primus when his habsuite came into sight. He didn't quite run to his door, but it was a near thing.
“Well, thanks for making sure I got here safely,” Swerve said with a little laugh. “Can't be too careful with all the, uh, riffraff around here.” He beamed up at Ultra Magnus and was utterly shocked to find Ultra Magnus giving him a genuine smile in return.
It was small and soft, but it was a smile and it left Swerve absolutely floored.
“No, you cannot,” Ultra Magnus agreed. “Good recharge, Swerve. And thank you for all your help. I am quite sure Rodimus is grateful as well.”
Rodimus. Right.
Swerve absolutely did not deflate. “Well, you know how it is, anything for Rodimus.” He fumbled at the door panel and was relieved when it slid open. “Good night!”
He dove into his habsuite before Ultra Magnus could say anything else that would leave Swerve simultaneously elated and disappointed. The door slid shut behind him and Swerve braced himself against it, ex-venting a long, slow cycle.
His head thunked back against the door. He was in over his head. He was so in over his head it wasn't even funny anymore.
a/n: Slowly but surely we're getting into the plot here. Coming up next, the big celebration. More awkward dancing around each other. More Rodimus hijinks. More uncomfortable moments. Stay tuned!
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
