[IDW] Marry Me - Chapter Five
Sep. 7th, 2015 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus, Swerve, Atomizer, Getaway, Megatron, Whirl, Rodimus, Brainstorm, Perceptor, Rung
Rated K+ for this chapter
Warnings for some uncomfortable situations
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack
The next day proved that Ultra Magnus had given himself fully to this ruse.
Swerve awoke to someone pinging at his door and when he opened it, there Ultra Magnus was with a cube of energon for him.
“I know you have to clean up first thing this cycle,” Ultra Magnus said as Swerve gaped up at him. “I thought this might help with your fatigue. We were up quite late last night.”
“I'll bet you were!” Atomizer cackled as he walked by, making sure to stare long and hard at the two of them.
He went so far as to walk backward and ogle them all the way until he turned a corner. And then he peeked back around it quickly as though he might have missed something before vanishing from sight again.
Well. That was sure to hit the rumor mill soon.
Swerve sighed. “Thank you,” he said and reached for the cube. “You're probably about to go on shift, right? What am I thinking? Of course you are.”
His hand slipped as he wrapped fingers around the cube and he almost dropped it. A quick snatch and it was saved. Phew. That would have been another mess. Swerve was quite tired of embarrassing himself.
“I run no chance of being late,” Ultra Magnus said, his weight shifting from foot to foot.
He seemed awkward standing there, shoulders hunched as he looked down on Swerve. The height difference between them bordered on the realm of ridiculous.
“I thought it would be nice to swing by and wish you a good morning and say that I look forward to seeing you tonight.”
Tonight?
Oh, right. Swerve's face burned again. This was Ultra Magnus in character. Not Ultra Magnus being nice for the sake of being nice. He had to remember that. Even if meant reminding himself every second of every minute of every hour.
It was all a ruse.
“Oh. Me, um, me, too.” Swerve managed a lopsided grin up at Ultra Magnus. “But, I actually have to hit the washracks first so you don't have to walk me.”
And while it wouldn't be unusual for two mechs to share the washracks platonically, Swerve didn't know if he could handle Ultra Magnus' hands on him without freaking out. Or betraying how often he'd dreamed of such a thing. Somehow, he didn't think his cooling fans clicking on in the middle of a friendly backscrub would be acceptable.
“I see.” Ultra Magnus nodded slowly. “Very well. Then I will see you later, perhaps at my mid-cycle break.” He bent at the waist in a barely perceptible motion – was that a bow? – and walked away.
Swerve absolutely did not stare dreamily after him. Or admire his aft. Nor did he startle when Jackpot whistled, winked and gave him two thumbs up as he passed, side by side with Mainframe.
Swerve did, however, whirl on a heelstrut and vanish back into his habsuite where he could finish his energon in peace and quiet. And where he could also calm down his rapidly pulsing spark.
It took him the better part of ten minutes to finish his energon and prepare himself to greet the day. He planted a smile on his face, squared his shoulders, and strutted into the hallway.
Let the teasing commence, he told himself, and turned straight for the washracks. A quick rinse to get the day started and then he'd go to his bar to check out the damage.
He had a plan. It was a good plan. But the minute he opened his door and stepped into the hallway, he collided with Getaway.
“Well,” the escapologist drawled, slinging an arm over his shoulders. Or as close to it as he could manage anyway. “If it isn't Swerve, newly engaged to Ultra Magnus. I'm surprised you're walking straight today.”
Oh, Primus.
Swerve's engine screeched with embarrassment. His vocalizer squawked static.
“That, um, that has nothing to do with anything,” he said and wriggled out from under Getaway's arm. Was he lying in wait or something? “I'm walking just fine.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. Guess old Mags is the traditional type, huh?” Getaway winked and jostled Swerve with his elbow. “How'd you get him to loosen up long enough to propose anyway, huh? I gotta say. I'm a bit shocked. I mean, what with you flirting with me last week.”
“A cover!” Swerve blurted, trying to move his feet faster but alas, Getaway easily caught up with him. He wondered if Magnus would cite him if he shifted to alt-mode and raced away. “It was a cover, you know, to uh, cover us.”
Getaway chuckled. “I'll bet it was.” He gave Swerve another wink and elbow jostle. “You fooled everyone. Maybe I oughta learn some tricks from you, eh?”
Swerve managed a small laugh. “Maybe.”
Oh, Primus. Today was going to be the absolute Pit.
0o0o0
Ultra Magnus headed for the bridge but was intercepted by a frowning Megatron. The former warlord's arms were crossed over his chest and his red optics were as baleful as ever. He presented quite the barricade, forcing Ultra Magnus to stop and wait. Thankfully, the corridor was empty with no one to bear witness to Megatron's posturing.
“Have you no control over that miscreant you call a captain?” the former Decepticon hissed, all of his plating fluffed out. Megatron's field was an agitated thing rasping against Magnus' own as though it were a secondary form of intimidation.
Magnus resisted the urge to rub his forehelm. The day had only begun and it was already aching. “I'd ask what he's done, but I feel I already know. I presume he told you.”
Megatron twitched. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Then you know good and well that, no, I don't have any control over him and yes, we are required to do whatever it takes to prevent his execution. That is part of what it means to be an Autobot,” Ultra Magnus said. “Now if you'll excuse me...”
He tried to step around Megatron, but the former warlord was as stubborn if not more so than Rodimus. He smoothly stepped back into Ultra Magnus' path. His glare hardened. His feet planted solidly. He bristled.
Magnus could probably take Megatron now, weakened and unarmed as he was. But it would cause damage and a mess and trouble for public relations. Not to mention he had no desire to start his day with a brawl.
“Was there something else?” Ultra Magnus asked.
“I can't believe you're actually going through with this farce,” Megatron said. His face went through a variety of emotions before settling on aggravation. “You let him get away with far too much.”
Ultra Magnus inclined his head. “And do you have a better idea?”
Silence. Megatron's optics narrowed. His field burst and then withdrew. Magnus wondered if this was how it felt to be Starscream.
“I didn't think so.” Ultra Magnus sighed. “It is a temporary solution to a very real problem, Megatron. So unless you have a better one, I suggest you do your best to maintain our ruse.”
Megatron's orbital ridge ticked upward. “And what part do I have to play in this farce?”
“In order for us to comply with Exelon law, Rodimus had to be our captain. You are now third-in-command,” Ultra Magnus explained through gritted denta. Though to be fair, that was only if the Exelons asked. Magnus still hoped they remained dark to the fact there was a former Decepticon warlord on board.
Had Rodimus told Megatron nothing?
… Of course, he hadn't. This was Rodimus here. He'd probably waltzed in, announced to the bridge at large that Ultra Magnus and Swerve were now engaged, and pulled Megatron aside to tell him about his new piece of jewelry. Probably in the guise of bragging about being the new heir to the throne here in Exelon.
Ultra Magnus bit back another sigh.
“I see.” If Megatron's frown got any deeper, it would be permanently etched into his face. “Only Rodimus could cause this much trouble.”
“Indeed.” In this, at least, he and Megatron had found a common ground. Though Ultra Magnus had gotten used to the kind of shenanigans Rodimus could cause, it was still new territory for Megatron, who was more used to the treachery Starscream presented, not the absurdity that was Rodimus.
Sometimes, Ultra Magnus wondered if Optimus allowing Megatron to join the Lost Light had been the punishment rather than a way to avoid it.
“Now as Rodimus should be spending his time with Perceptor and Brainstorm, and I have a wedding to plan, we'll be relying on you to manage the Lost Light,” Ultra Magnus continued, though the very words tasted like stale energon.
Also, it was telling that he felt marginally more comfortable leaving Megatron in command than he would have Rodimus. It was slim, but there was a half-point difference between them. Sadly.
“Fine,” Megatron bit out and he stepped aside, giving Ultra Magnus room to pass. “But when this is over, I think we should all have a nice, long talk.”
“If you think that is going to have any effect on Rodimus' behavior in the future, you are surely mistaken,” Ultra Magnus tossed over his shoulder.
Megatron snorted.
0o0o0
Swerve barely escaped from the washracks.
He'd thought he timed it well. He figured they would be mostly empty at this point in the cycle. He was wrong.
Crew members bombarded him with questions and congratulations. Or outright inappropriate commentary. Mechs who would have never given Swerve a second look leered at him. Others told jokes that Swerve was too anxious to laugh at.
For once, Swerve was not glad for all the extra attention. He would have been desperate for it once upon a time. He would have luxuriated in it. Now, the added scrutiny was just another stress. And sure they meant well but...
Okay. No. They probably didn't mean well at all. They were just a bunch of nosy slaggers all up in everyone else's business because it was a form of entertainment.
No matter how many times Swerve smiled and said “a gentlemech doesn't tell” they wouldn't stop asking him about the size of Magnus' equipment. As if he knew! Okay, sure, he had his suspicions. His faceplate heated to think of taking something that large. But he didn't know. And he wasn't going to get to know.
Frustration!
Swerve sought refuge in his bar. It was too early to be open. He should be the only one there. He could clean and talk to himself and get mentally prepared for tonight.
Except when he got there, he was almost immediately waylaid by Whirl. Of all the two-hundred plus residents of the Lost Light, it had to be Whirl. He had no off button.
Swerve sighed.
Whirl cackled. “Good morning, motormouth. Finally emerged from your den of inequity, yeah?” His pincers clacked excitedly. “Come on. How's about you slip me a drink and tell me all about it?”
“The day just started, Whirl. Don't you think it's a bit early for engex?” Swerve asked, deftly avoiding the arm that was probably meant for his shoulder. What was with all the touching all the sudden?
He keyed open the door to his bar and stepped inside, only to draw up short and groan. Dear Primus. It looked like a tornado had been through here. A tornado or one very drunk Whirl.
His optical band flashed as he turned a glare upon said Autobot.
“Wasn't my fault this time!” Whirl protested, holding up his pincers. “Someone got Strafe wasted and he took exception to Repugnus' paint scheme. It was pretty epic though. You missed an awesome fight.”
Swerve sighed. “And I'm sure you did your best to break it up.” He gingerly stepped over the shattered remains of two chairs. This was why Bluestreak made a poor bar manager. But at least it was better than everyone skipping off to Mirage's bar.
“Frack, no. But I did win a tidy sum of shanix afterward.”
Swerve made an appropriate noise of disinterest and went in search of a broom and dustpan. He would also need a mop. And to restock. And where was Ten? Shouldn't he be here, bouncing Whirl on out the door?
Whirl who, by the way, was following Swerve around as though he had nothing better to do and nowhere better to be.
“So,” he said with a clack-clack of his pedes. “You and Magnus, huh? Never saw that coming. You kept a secret, Swerve! Good for you!”
Swerve started to sweep. It looked like he would have to restock some of his glassware while they were on Exelon Five. He swore he went through more broken cups than anything else.
“Don't you have somewhere to go? Somewhere that's not here?”
“Nope. I have all the time in the world to spend with you.” Whirl propped himself on a table and got comfortable. His legs swung back and forth. “So tell me more about Magnus. Does he quote the Autobot Code in the berth? Is it all by the book. One, two, three, overload?”
Swerve choked on his next ventilation. “Whirl! That's none of your business!” He almost dropped his broom.
“Does the Magnus Armor even have interfacing capabilities?” Whirl asked, purposefully deaf to Swerve's protests. “Or does he, you know, take it off to do the horizontal tango? What's Minimus like? Oh, Swerve! Did you finally get to be a mech?”
It took all he had not to violently throw Whirl from his bar. Not that he could. But he imagined himself doing it a few times just to make the urge go away.
He wasn't at all prepared for this.
0o0o0
Ultra Magnus found Rodimus surrounded by Brainstorm and Perceptor, both scientists staring at him as though he were a mysteriously locked box and they had no idea where to find the key. Rodimus was both twitching and grinning, his field wildly flickering throughout the lab and betraying an unhealthy mix of agitation and glee.
“Well?” Ultra Magnus prompted as he strode into the laboratory. It was impossible to hide his agitation. He was not happy with any part of this situation.
“There is a metal unlike any I have ever seen before,” Perceptor stated. He slowly circled Rodimus, examining him from all angles.
“I didn't even know a metal of this density was possible,” Brainstorm added and he tossed Perceptor a sideways look. “There's no way it occurs naturally. Not unless...”
Perceptor met his gaze. “Black hole?”
Brainstorm nodded. “Black hole.”
Rodimus blinked. “Magic?”
Ultra Magnus barely refrained from echoing him though with a more precise term. “And the circuitry?”
“Complex but not beyond our understanding,” Perceptor said. He made a contemplative noise. “The issue is the tampering mechanism. It is incredibly sensitive. There are feedback loops for every circuit.”
“Which means...?”
“Boom.” Brainstorm's fingers flicked through the air. “No more Rodimus. We so much as tug too hard on a wire and that's all she wrote.”
“Who wrote?” Ultra Magnus asked.
“The Grand Regent,” Perceptor said. “Or at least we assume. I can only guess that this sort of complicated incendiary device is one of the reasons the Exelons are open to intergalactic visitors. They are more than capable of defending themselves.”
Ultra Magnus rubbed his forehead. “Options?”
“We'll keep looking. In the meantime, try not to agitate them,” Perceptor said. He picked up his datapad and examined a readout on it.
“Also,” Brainstorm added, giving Ultra Magnus two thumbs up. “Congratulations on your pending nuptials. Of all the mechs on the ship, you picked Swerve? I thought you were trying to be believable?”
Ultra Magnus gave him a dark look. “Swerve was a matter of coincidence. Even so, he is proving more than capable of the task.” His performances so far were exemplary. Ultra Magnus had not known him to be capable of such deception until now.
Brainstorm held up his hands. “Wow. Defensive much? I was just observing.” He abruptly whirled back toward Perceptor, peering around the other scientist's shoulder at the datapad. “What about those readings, Percy?”
“It's Perceptor,” he corrected tightly.
Rodimus hopped down from the stool and joined Ultra Magnus as they left the lab and the soon to be bickering duo behind.
“How's that going, by the way?” Rodimus asked.
Ultra Magnus sighed. “It would be better had you not taken it upon yourself to make a public announcement.”
“You want an apology for that?”
“I want you to start thinking first,” Ultra Magnus corrected and he rounded on Rodimus, forcing his captain to screech to a halt in the corridor. “Your inability to do so is what landed us in this predicament in this first place. I would also ask that you treat this situation with the gravity it deserves.”
Rodimus folded his arms. “You want me to mope around and worry the crew? How's that going to help us?”
Ultra Magnus ex-vented a burst of air and pinched his olfactory sensor. “I want you to stop pretending this is some kind of game. You have a bomb strapped around your neck, Rodimus. Kindly don't forget that.”
“It is literally impossible for me to forget, Magnus.” Rodimus rolled his optics and looked away, his frame set with tension. He fidgeted and continued with, “And for what it's worth, I appreciate everything you're doing for me.”
He wouldn't meet Ultra Magnus' gaze. Only then did he detect the embarrassment and shame buried deep within Rodimus' field.
“You are welcome,” Ultra Magnus said, tone kinder than before. “You would also do well to thank Swerve. He has put himself at risk for you, too.”
Rodimus nodded. “I will.”
“Good.”
0o0o0
So Whirl left eventually. But that was only so Rung could poke his helm in and smile nicely and speak in concerned tones and make sure that Swerve was all right. Which of course he was. Why wouldn't he be?
Rung congratulated him again on his engagement, patted his hand, and said he'd see Swerve later tonight at the party.
Then Rung was gone and Swerve had a few blissful moments of silence. He managed to get all of the chairs righted and most of the debris swept into neat and tidy piles.
Rodimus swung by. He strode into Swerve's bar, a smile on his lips, a bomb around his neck, and his hands planted on his hips.
“So we're still having no luck getting this thing removed,” he said as he looked around, taking in the destruction left behind. “I'm going to have to ask you to carry on this ruse a little while longer.”
Swerve cycled through a series of responses, none of them polite. Rodimus wasn't usually a stickler for formal addresses but still, several of these crossed the line. Not that Rodimus didn't deserve every last one of them.
“Sure,” Swerve said instead and planted a wide smile on his face. “I mean, I'm having so much fun already. No point in stopping the party now.”
Rodimus chuckled. “See? That's what I like about you, Swerve. You're such a team player.” He winked and clapped Swerve on the shoulder. “Also, can I just say, that you and Magnus make for an adorable couple.”
He batted Rodimus' hand away. Seriously? What was with the touching all of the sudden?
“A fake couple,” Swerve corrected.
“Yeah. I remember.” Rodimus held up his hands and then lowered them, giving Swerve an odd look. “Thanks for that, by the way. I'm kind of fond of my helm where it is.”
Swerve snorted and went back to sweeping debris into the dust pan. One of these days, he might invest in a cleaning drone to go with his serving drone.
“You're welcome,” he said. “I guess I like where your helm is, too.”
Rodimus chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Good, good. And everything is going well with Magnus? He's not being an aft, is he?”
Not as much as you are.
“No. We've worked it out. We have a plan.” Swerve picked up his dustpan and juggled his broom as well. “Is there something you need? Because if you're not going to help, you're kind of in the way.”
Did he sound annoyed? Maybe because he was. Barely a day had gone by and he was being bombarded with reminders of this fake relationship that was going to be the end of him. He was in way over his head and they'd barely begun.
Rodimus blinked. “Uhh, no. That was it.” He paused and leaned closer, lowering the volume of his vocals. “You need anything, let me know, okay?”
Was that a moment of selflessness? Color him surprised.
“Um, sure. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.”
“You do that.” Rodimus leaned back with a wink and a smile. “Well, I'm off to lie about my new accessory and make sure Megatron isn't going to lead my crew astray. See you tonight.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Swerve watched Rodimus go. He replayed the whole conversation in his mind and still couldn't make heads or tails out of it.
Rodimus was fragging weird.
0o0o0
Swerve's comm led him not to the bar as he would have expected but back to Swerve's habsuite. Ultra Magnus pinged for entry and waited patiently, planting an appropriate small smile on his face. The door opened and Swerve peered out, wary as though someone was lying in wait to pounce.
Ultra Magnus blinked. “Is everything all right?”
“Depends on what you mean by that.” Swerve visibly relaxed and stepped into the hallway. “I've been bombarded with people who want to know the details. Which, you know, is to be expected but it was more than a little unnerving. And Whirl! Primus, Whirl! Someone ought to put him on a leash or something.” His field flared with his aggravation, only for it to flatten and wisp away.
Ultra Magnus dipped his helm. “I apologize. You could have commed me. I could have provided assistance.”
“Pssh. That would have made things worse.” Swerve's visor flickered. He waved a hand dismissively. “They wanted to know details. Way too many details. And he was being, well, he was being Whirl about it. But I can handle it. I'm an adult, right?”
“You are,” Magnus agreed though he couldn't quite shake his concern. Swerve was even more scattered than usual. “Are you ready for this event?”
Swerve grinned and reached up, patting him on the arm. “Course I am. We gotta do this, right? For Rodimus?”
He sounded eager, which was comforting, but Ultra Magnus couldn't help feeling there was something off about it. Swerve's smile was genuine and his field had evened out, but underneath it was a sense of agitation.
Hmm. Something to look into later. Right now, they had somewhere to be and couldn't afford to be late.
“For Rodimus,” Ultra Magnus agreed.
He reached down and rested his hand at the top of Swerve's back. It was on their list of acceptable public displays of affection and he did not miss the way Swerve leaned into his touch. He was a natural at this.
Still, it never hurt to ask for clarification.
“Is this all right?” Ultra Magnus asked.
“Fine.” Swerve beamed up at him, his visor flickering. He patted Ultra Magnus' hip, the furthest he could reach.
Were he Minimus, they would have been more adequately matched. But there was something to be said about having one's partner be smaller than oneself.
“Feel free to let me know should anything become unwelcome,” Ultra Magnus said and he guided Swerve toward the exit.
Time to get this show started.
****
a/n:It's been an interesting journey, writing all these characters I've never written before. Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated. And life willing, I hope to update this fic every Monday. -fingers crossed-
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus, Swerve, Atomizer, Getaway, Megatron, Whirl, Rodimus, Brainstorm, Perceptor, Rung
Rated K+ for this chapter
Warnings for some uncomfortable situations
Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack
Marry Me – Chapter Five
The next day proved that Ultra Magnus had given himself fully to this ruse.
Swerve awoke to someone pinging at his door and when he opened it, there Ultra Magnus was with a cube of energon for him.
“I know you have to clean up first thing this cycle,” Ultra Magnus said as Swerve gaped up at him. “I thought this might help with your fatigue. We were up quite late last night.”
“I'll bet you were!” Atomizer cackled as he walked by, making sure to stare long and hard at the two of them.
He went so far as to walk backward and ogle them all the way until he turned a corner. And then he peeked back around it quickly as though he might have missed something before vanishing from sight again.
Well. That was sure to hit the rumor mill soon.
Swerve sighed. “Thank you,” he said and reached for the cube. “You're probably about to go on shift, right? What am I thinking? Of course you are.”
His hand slipped as he wrapped fingers around the cube and he almost dropped it. A quick snatch and it was saved. Phew. That would have been another mess. Swerve was quite tired of embarrassing himself.
“I run no chance of being late,” Ultra Magnus said, his weight shifting from foot to foot.
He seemed awkward standing there, shoulders hunched as he looked down on Swerve. The height difference between them bordered on the realm of ridiculous.
“I thought it would be nice to swing by and wish you a good morning and say that I look forward to seeing you tonight.”
Tonight?
Oh, right. Swerve's face burned again. This was Ultra Magnus in character. Not Ultra Magnus being nice for the sake of being nice. He had to remember that. Even if meant reminding himself every second of every minute of every hour.
It was all a ruse.
“Oh. Me, um, me, too.” Swerve managed a lopsided grin up at Ultra Magnus. “But, I actually have to hit the washracks first so you don't have to walk me.”
And while it wouldn't be unusual for two mechs to share the washracks platonically, Swerve didn't know if he could handle Ultra Magnus' hands on him without freaking out. Or betraying how often he'd dreamed of such a thing. Somehow, he didn't think his cooling fans clicking on in the middle of a friendly backscrub would be acceptable.
“I see.” Ultra Magnus nodded slowly. “Very well. Then I will see you later, perhaps at my mid-cycle break.” He bent at the waist in a barely perceptible motion – was that a bow? – and walked away.
Swerve absolutely did not stare dreamily after him. Or admire his aft. Nor did he startle when Jackpot whistled, winked and gave him two thumbs up as he passed, side by side with Mainframe.
Swerve did, however, whirl on a heelstrut and vanish back into his habsuite where he could finish his energon in peace and quiet. And where he could also calm down his rapidly pulsing spark.
It took him the better part of ten minutes to finish his energon and prepare himself to greet the day. He planted a smile on his face, squared his shoulders, and strutted into the hallway.
Let the teasing commence, he told himself, and turned straight for the washracks. A quick rinse to get the day started and then he'd go to his bar to check out the damage.
He had a plan. It was a good plan. But the minute he opened his door and stepped into the hallway, he collided with Getaway.
“Well,” the escapologist drawled, slinging an arm over his shoulders. Or as close to it as he could manage anyway. “If it isn't Swerve, newly engaged to Ultra Magnus. I'm surprised you're walking straight today.”
Oh, Primus.
Swerve's engine screeched with embarrassment. His vocalizer squawked static.
“That, um, that has nothing to do with anything,” he said and wriggled out from under Getaway's arm. Was he lying in wait or something? “I'm walking just fine.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. Guess old Mags is the traditional type, huh?” Getaway winked and jostled Swerve with his elbow. “How'd you get him to loosen up long enough to propose anyway, huh? I gotta say. I'm a bit shocked. I mean, what with you flirting with me last week.”
“A cover!” Swerve blurted, trying to move his feet faster but alas, Getaway easily caught up with him. He wondered if Magnus would cite him if he shifted to alt-mode and raced away. “It was a cover, you know, to uh, cover us.”
Getaway chuckled. “I'll bet it was.” He gave Swerve another wink and elbow jostle. “You fooled everyone. Maybe I oughta learn some tricks from you, eh?”
Swerve managed a small laugh. “Maybe.”
Oh, Primus. Today was going to be the absolute Pit.
Ultra Magnus headed for the bridge but was intercepted by a frowning Megatron. The former warlord's arms were crossed over his chest and his red optics were as baleful as ever. He presented quite the barricade, forcing Ultra Magnus to stop and wait. Thankfully, the corridor was empty with no one to bear witness to Megatron's posturing.
“Have you no control over that miscreant you call a captain?” the former Decepticon hissed, all of his plating fluffed out. Megatron's field was an agitated thing rasping against Magnus' own as though it were a secondary form of intimidation.
Magnus resisted the urge to rub his forehelm. The day had only begun and it was already aching. “I'd ask what he's done, but I feel I already know. I presume he told you.”
Megatron twitched. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Then you know good and well that, no, I don't have any control over him and yes, we are required to do whatever it takes to prevent his execution. That is part of what it means to be an Autobot,” Ultra Magnus said. “Now if you'll excuse me...”
He tried to step around Megatron, but the former warlord was as stubborn if not more so than Rodimus. He smoothly stepped back into Ultra Magnus' path. His glare hardened. His feet planted solidly. He bristled.
Magnus could probably take Megatron now, weakened and unarmed as he was. But it would cause damage and a mess and trouble for public relations. Not to mention he had no desire to start his day with a brawl.
“Was there something else?” Ultra Magnus asked.
“I can't believe you're actually going through with this farce,” Megatron said. His face went through a variety of emotions before settling on aggravation. “You let him get away with far too much.”
Ultra Magnus inclined his head. “And do you have a better idea?”
Silence. Megatron's optics narrowed. His field burst and then withdrew. Magnus wondered if this was how it felt to be Starscream.
“I didn't think so.” Ultra Magnus sighed. “It is a temporary solution to a very real problem, Megatron. So unless you have a better one, I suggest you do your best to maintain our ruse.”
Megatron's orbital ridge ticked upward. “And what part do I have to play in this farce?”
“In order for us to comply with Exelon law, Rodimus had to be our captain. You are now third-in-command,” Ultra Magnus explained through gritted denta. Though to be fair, that was only if the Exelons asked. Magnus still hoped they remained dark to the fact there was a former Decepticon warlord on board.
Had Rodimus told Megatron nothing?
… Of course, he hadn't. This was Rodimus here. He'd probably waltzed in, announced to the bridge at large that Ultra Magnus and Swerve were now engaged, and pulled Megatron aside to tell him about his new piece of jewelry. Probably in the guise of bragging about being the new heir to the throne here in Exelon.
Ultra Magnus bit back another sigh.
“I see.” If Megatron's frown got any deeper, it would be permanently etched into his face. “Only Rodimus could cause this much trouble.”
“Indeed.” In this, at least, he and Megatron had found a common ground. Though Ultra Magnus had gotten used to the kind of shenanigans Rodimus could cause, it was still new territory for Megatron, who was more used to the treachery Starscream presented, not the absurdity that was Rodimus.
Sometimes, Ultra Magnus wondered if Optimus allowing Megatron to join the Lost Light had been the punishment rather than a way to avoid it.
“Now as Rodimus should be spending his time with Perceptor and Brainstorm, and I have a wedding to plan, we'll be relying on you to manage the Lost Light,” Ultra Magnus continued, though the very words tasted like stale energon.
Also, it was telling that he felt marginally more comfortable leaving Megatron in command than he would have Rodimus. It was slim, but there was a half-point difference between them. Sadly.
“Fine,” Megatron bit out and he stepped aside, giving Ultra Magnus room to pass. “But when this is over, I think we should all have a nice, long talk.”
“If you think that is going to have any effect on Rodimus' behavior in the future, you are surely mistaken,” Ultra Magnus tossed over his shoulder.
Megatron snorted.
Swerve barely escaped from the washracks.
He'd thought he timed it well. He figured they would be mostly empty at this point in the cycle. He was wrong.
Crew members bombarded him with questions and congratulations. Or outright inappropriate commentary. Mechs who would have never given Swerve a second look leered at him. Others told jokes that Swerve was too anxious to laugh at.
For once, Swerve was not glad for all the extra attention. He would have been desperate for it once upon a time. He would have luxuriated in it. Now, the added scrutiny was just another stress. And sure they meant well but...
Okay. No. They probably didn't mean well at all. They were just a bunch of nosy slaggers all up in everyone else's business because it was a form of entertainment.
No matter how many times Swerve smiled and said “a gentlemech doesn't tell” they wouldn't stop asking him about the size of Magnus' equipment. As if he knew! Okay, sure, he had his suspicions. His faceplate heated to think of taking something that large. But he didn't know. And he wasn't going to get to know.
Frustration!
Swerve sought refuge in his bar. It was too early to be open. He should be the only one there. He could clean and talk to himself and get mentally prepared for tonight.
Except when he got there, he was almost immediately waylaid by Whirl. Of all the two-hundred plus residents of the Lost Light, it had to be Whirl. He had no off button.
Swerve sighed.
Whirl cackled. “Good morning, motormouth. Finally emerged from your den of inequity, yeah?” His pincers clacked excitedly. “Come on. How's about you slip me a drink and tell me all about it?”
“The day just started, Whirl. Don't you think it's a bit early for engex?” Swerve asked, deftly avoiding the arm that was probably meant for his shoulder. What was with all the touching all the sudden?
He keyed open the door to his bar and stepped inside, only to draw up short and groan. Dear Primus. It looked like a tornado had been through here. A tornado or one very drunk Whirl.
His optical band flashed as he turned a glare upon said Autobot.
“Wasn't my fault this time!” Whirl protested, holding up his pincers. “Someone got Strafe wasted and he took exception to Repugnus' paint scheme. It was pretty epic though. You missed an awesome fight.”
Swerve sighed. “And I'm sure you did your best to break it up.” He gingerly stepped over the shattered remains of two chairs. This was why Bluestreak made a poor bar manager. But at least it was better than everyone skipping off to Mirage's bar.
“Frack, no. But I did win a tidy sum of shanix afterward.”
Swerve made an appropriate noise of disinterest and went in search of a broom and dustpan. He would also need a mop. And to restock. And where was Ten? Shouldn't he be here, bouncing Whirl on out the door?
Whirl who, by the way, was following Swerve around as though he had nothing better to do and nowhere better to be.
“So,” he said with a clack-clack of his pedes. “You and Magnus, huh? Never saw that coming. You kept a secret, Swerve! Good for you!”
Swerve started to sweep. It looked like he would have to restock some of his glassware while they were on Exelon Five. He swore he went through more broken cups than anything else.
“Don't you have somewhere to go? Somewhere that's not here?”
“Nope. I have all the time in the world to spend with you.” Whirl propped himself on a table and got comfortable. His legs swung back and forth. “So tell me more about Magnus. Does he quote the Autobot Code in the berth? Is it all by the book. One, two, three, overload?”
Swerve choked on his next ventilation. “Whirl! That's none of your business!” He almost dropped his broom.
“Does the Magnus Armor even have interfacing capabilities?” Whirl asked, purposefully deaf to Swerve's protests. “Or does he, you know, take it off to do the horizontal tango? What's Minimus like? Oh, Swerve! Did you finally get to be a mech?”
It took all he had not to violently throw Whirl from his bar. Not that he could. But he imagined himself doing it a few times just to make the urge go away.
He wasn't at all prepared for this.
Ultra Magnus found Rodimus surrounded by Brainstorm and Perceptor, both scientists staring at him as though he were a mysteriously locked box and they had no idea where to find the key. Rodimus was both twitching and grinning, his field wildly flickering throughout the lab and betraying an unhealthy mix of agitation and glee.
“Well?” Ultra Magnus prompted as he strode into the laboratory. It was impossible to hide his agitation. He was not happy with any part of this situation.
“There is a metal unlike any I have ever seen before,” Perceptor stated. He slowly circled Rodimus, examining him from all angles.
“I didn't even know a metal of this density was possible,” Brainstorm added and he tossed Perceptor a sideways look. “There's no way it occurs naturally. Not unless...”
Perceptor met his gaze. “Black hole?”
Brainstorm nodded. “Black hole.”
Rodimus blinked. “Magic?”
Ultra Magnus barely refrained from echoing him though with a more precise term. “And the circuitry?”
“Complex but not beyond our understanding,” Perceptor said. He made a contemplative noise. “The issue is the tampering mechanism. It is incredibly sensitive. There are feedback loops for every circuit.”
“Which means...?”
“Boom.” Brainstorm's fingers flicked through the air. “No more Rodimus. We so much as tug too hard on a wire and that's all she wrote.”
“Who wrote?” Ultra Magnus asked.
“The Grand Regent,” Perceptor said. “Or at least we assume. I can only guess that this sort of complicated incendiary device is one of the reasons the Exelons are open to intergalactic visitors. They are more than capable of defending themselves.”
Ultra Magnus rubbed his forehead. “Options?”
“We'll keep looking. In the meantime, try not to agitate them,” Perceptor said. He picked up his datapad and examined a readout on it.
“Also,” Brainstorm added, giving Ultra Magnus two thumbs up. “Congratulations on your pending nuptials. Of all the mechs on the ship, you picked Swerve? I thought you were trying to be believable?”
Ultra Magnus gave him a dark look. “Swerve was a matter of coincidence. Even so, he is proving more than capable of the task.” His performances so far were exemplary. Ultra Magnus had not known him to be capable of such deception until now.
Brainstorm held up his hands. “Wow. Defensive much? I was just observing.” He abruptly whirled back toward Perceptor, peering around the other scientist's shoulder at the datapad. “What about those readings, Percy?”
“It's Perceptor,” he corrected tightly.
Rodimus hopped down from the stool and joined Ultra Magnus as they left the lab and the soon to be bickering duo behind.
“How's that going, by the way?” Rodimus asked.
Ultra Magnus sighed. “It would be better had you not taken it upon yourself to make a public announcement.”
“You want an apology for that?”
“I want you to start thinking first,” Ultra Magnus corrected and he rounded on Rodimus, forcing his captain to screech to a halt in the corridor. “Your inability to do so is what landed us in this predicament in this first place. I would also ask that you treat this situation with the gravity it deserves.”
Rodimus folded his arms. “You want me to mope around and worry the crew? How's that going to help us?”
Ultra Magnus ex-vented a burst of air and pinched his olfactory sensor. “I want you to stop pretending this is some kind of game. You have a bomb strapped around your neck, Rodimus. Kindly don't forget that.”
“It is literally impossible for me to forget, Magnus.” Rodimus rolled his optics and looked away, his frame set with tension. He fidgeted and continued with, “And for what it's worth, I appreciate everything you're doing for me.”
He wouldn't meet Ultra Magnus' gaze. Only then did he detect the embarrassment and shame buried deep within Rodimus' field.
“You are welcome,” Ultra Magnus said, tone kinder than before. “You would also do well to thank Swerve. He has put himself at risk for you, too.”
Rodimus nodded. “I will.”
“Good.”
0o0o0
So Whirl left eventually. But that was only so Rung could poke his helm in and smile nicely and speak in concerned tones and make sure that Swerve was all right. Which of course he was. Why wouldn't he be?
Rung congratulated him again on his engagement, patted his hand, and said he'd see Swerve later tonight at the party.
Then Rung was gone and Swerve had a few blissful moments of silence. He managed to get all of the chairs righted and most of the debris swept into neat and tidy piles.
Rodimus swung by. He strode into Swerve's bar, a smile on his lips, a bomb around his neck, and his hands planted on his hips.
“So we're still having no luck getting this thing removed,” he said as he looked around, taking in the destruction left behind. “I'm going to have to ask you to carry on this ruse a little while longer.”
Swerve cycled through a series of responses, none of them polite. Rodimus wasn't usually a stickler for formal addresses but still, several of these crossed the line. Not that Rodimus didn't deserve every last one of them.
“Sure,” Swerve said instead and planted a wide smile on his face. “I mean, I'm having so much fun already. No point in stopping the party now.”
Rodimus chuckled. “See? That's what I like about you, Swerve. You're such a team player.” He winked and clapped Swerve on the shoulder. “Also, can I just say, that you and Magnus make for an adorable couple.”
He batted Rodimus' hand away. Seriously? What was with the touching all of the sudden?
“A fake couple,” Swerve corrected.
“Yeah. I remember.” Rodimus held up his hands and then lowered them, giving Swerve an odd look. “Thanks for that, by the way. I'm kind of fond of my helm where it is.”
Swerve snorted and went back to sweeping debris into the dust pan. One of these days, he might invest in a cleaning drone to go with his serving drone.
“You're welcome,” he said. “I guess I like where your helm is, too.”
Rodimus chuckled and clapped his hands together. “Good, good. And everything is going well with Magnus? He's not being an aft, is he?”
Not as much as you are.
“No. We've worked it out. We have a plan.” Swerve picked up his dustpan and juggled his broom as well. “Is there something you need? Because if you're not going to help, you're kind of in the way.”
Did he sound annoyed? Maybe because he was. Barely a day had gone by and he was being bombarded with reminders of this fake relationship that was going to be the end of him. He was in way over his head and they'd barely begun.
Rodimus blinked. “Uhh, no. That was it.” He paused and leaned closer, lowering the volume of his vocals. “You need anything, let me know, okay?”
Was that a moment of selflessness? Color him surprised.
“Um, sure. Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.”
“You do that.” Rodimus leaned back with a wink and a smile. “Well, I'm off to lie about my new accessory and make sure Megatron isn't going to lead my crew astray. See you tonight.”
“Yeah. See you.”
Swerve watched Rodimus go. He replayed the whole conversation in his mind and still couldn't make heads or tails out of it.
Rodimus was fragging weird.
Swerve's comm led him not to the bar as he would have expected but back to Swerve's habsuite. Ultra Magnus pinged for entry and waited patiently, planting an appropriate small smile on his face. The door opened and Swerve peered out, wary as though someone was lying in wait to pounce.
Ultra Magnus blinked. “Is everything all right?”
“Depends on what you mean by that.” Swerve visibly relaxed and stepped into the hallway. “I've been bombarded with people who want to know the details. Which, you know, is to be expected but it was more than a little unnerving. And Whirl! Primus, Whirl! Someone ought to put him on a leash or something.” His field flared with his aggravation, only for it to flatten and wisp away.
Ultra Magnus dipped his helm. “I apologize. You could have commed me. I could have provided assistance.”
“Pssh. That would have made things worse.” Swerve's visor flickered. He waved a hand dismissively. “They wanted to know details. Way too many details. And he was being, well, he was being Whirl about it. But I can handle it. I'm an adult, right?”
“You are,” Magnus agreed though he couldn't quite shake his concern. Swerve was even more scattered than usual. “Are you ready for this event?”
Swerve grinned and reached up, patting him on the arm. “Course I am. We gotta do this, right? For Rodimus?”
He sounded eager, which was comforting, but Ultra Magnus couldn't help feeling there was something off about it. Swerve's smile was genuine and his field had evened out, but underneath it was a sense of agitation.
Hmm. Something to look into later. Right now, they had somewhere to be and couldn't afford to be late.
“For Rodimus,” Ultra Magnus agreed.
He reached down and rested his hand at the top of Swerve's back. It was on their list of acceptable public displays of affection and he did not miss the way Swerve leaned into his touch. He was a natural at this.
Still, it never hurt to ask for clarification.
“Is this all right?” Ultra Magnus asked.
“Fine.” Swerve beamed up at him, his visor flickering. He patted Ultra Magnus' hip, the furthest he could reach.
Were he Minimus, they would have been more adequately matched. But there was something to be said about having one's partner be smaller than oneself.
“Feel free to let me know should anything become unwelcome,” Ultra Magnus said and he guided Swerve toward the exit.
Time to get this show started.
a/n:It's been an interesting journey, writing all these characters I've never written before. Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated. And life willing, I hope to update this fic every Monday. -fingers crossed-
