[Transformers] Untitled (Pre)Dragon-verse fic bit
color:black;background:white">Here's hoping I haven't posted this yet. X____x
color:black;background:white">Title color:black;background:white">Untitled
color:black;background:white">Characters background:white">Sunstreaker, Prowl, Bluestreak, Sideswipe, Ratchet
Warnings None
Summary Sunstreaker does not appreciate the newest member of Prowl’s squad
Author’s Note This is set in Pre-Dragon ‘verse. This is only one scene, and simply posting it because I have sat on it for so long and I really really really like this one scene.
background:white">Sunstreaker was not known for his patience.
background:white">Indeed one could not say that he waited outside of the office door patiently. He shifted constantly: from one foot to the other, one arm dropping and the other lifting to drape across his canopy. He leaned against the wall and then straightened, only to bend one knee and rest his considerable weight on one leg. Yet he remained at the doorway waiting for any sign of the mech to whom the office belonged to.
background:white">He waited for a full cycle, glaring at anyone who attempted to question him, convincing them in one single look that it’d be wiser to find another route or to press against the wall as they passed. And when there was no one to glare at, he focused his glower on the marred paint on his forearm and chestplate, fully aware that he wasn’t even very presentable.
background:white">A second cycle passed and when a third cycle loomed, and Sunstreaker thought that he would have to go hunt down the mech he was seeking, he saw the officer striding down the hallway at his usual hurried pace.
background:white">Prowl didn’t even pause when he noticed the warrior standing outside his door. With a nod to Sunstreaker, he stopped only long enough to key in his entry code, not even waiting for the door to fully open before he stepped inside, his wing panel pinging lightly against the sliding door. “Make it quick, Sunstreaker, I am very busy.”
background:white">Sunstreaker followed Prowl into the office, watching the Commander pull a stack of datapads out of subspace and place them on the desk. Every wire in Sunstreaker’s frame pulled tightly against his joints, anger burning through his somewhat-calm façade.
background:white">Prowl finally did pause to look at Sunstreaker when the golden mech wasn’t forthcoming with his problem, his wing panels flicked and he seemed to sit back on his heels. “Is there something wrong with Sideswipe? Ratchet has reported no complications.” His optics flickered, no doubt double-checking with the medic.
background:white">“He almost killed him.”
background:white">The blue optics shut off and reset, focused on the golden mech. An annoyed frown finally crossed the grey face, yet Prowl did not allow his irritation to reflect in his tone. “The Decepticons find it as much their job to kill you as it is your job to kill them.” The black and white panels flicked and Prowl turned his attention to sorting through the datapads.
background:white">Sunstreaker--far more silent than a mech of his stature had any right to be--stalked over to Prowl and gained his commander’s attention with a fist slamming into the midst of the datapads. “Not the slagging Decepticon. I’m talking about that stupid gunner you assigned to work with us. He almost got Sideswipe killed!”
background:white">Irritation truly did flicker through Prowl’s face then; brow ridge drawing down and wingpanels rising. “As I recall he was warding off a stealth jet from your position when Sideswipe impetuously decided to take on a sentient tank-“
background:white">“He froze!” Sunstreaker screamed, pressing in on Prowl’s space, face nearly shoved into the commander’s.
background:white">“-and received a missile point blank for his effort,” Prowl continued as though Sunstreaker had not just broken in. His optics flashed as he tilted a not-quite-glare toward the golden mech. “Interrupt me again, Sunstreaker and you will be cleaning the mounted turrets.”
background:white">Sunstreaker straightened, hissing through his vents. It was raining outside. He took a moment to calm down, aware of Prowl’s still occasionally-twitching wing panels. “He froze, Prowl. What good is someone watching our backs if they’re going to freeze?”
background:white">Prowl tipped his head back, narrowed optics regarding the golden mech seriously. “Sunstreaker, if you wish to place blame on Bluestreak for the damage done to your brother, might I remind you that-though you were allotted times to do so-you never trained with him? He did not know what you were going to do; you did not communicate this with him.”
background:white">Sunstreaker seethed, shoulders stiffening with the desire to slug the haughty mech across his face. “You want us to shout out who we’re going to attack for all the Cons to hear? Yeah, that’s gonna work really fragging well, isn’t it?”
background:white">Prowl vented a sigh, and he leaned on his desk toward the warrior. “It is called ‘teamwork’ Sunstreaker. He needs to know the way you fight as well as you need to know his methods. When Sideswipe is fit for duty, provided we are not called to battle, I expect you three to work double-time on both training shifts, as well as off shift to make up for the training opportunities you have missed.” The commander straightened, wing panels flared out behind him. “Am I clear?”
background:white">“Fraggin’ crystal.” Sunstreaker turned, but a sharp signal from Prowl had him looking back.
background:white">“This is not a game. We do not have mechs to spare, much less lose. If you cannot trust him with your lives, how can you expect him to trust you with his?” Prowl stared at Sunstreaker, letting that sink in before he seated himself at his now cluttered desk and once again began sorting through the datapads, a dismissal.
background:white">Sunstreaker growled at no one in particular and stalked out of the room. He made his way back to the medbay, where he stood outside the door, in the general waiting area, ignoring anyone who attempted to approach.
background:white">Another mech joined him, and he didn’t even have to look to recognize the interloper (he didn’t look, if he saw that fragger’s face he would probably punch the mech). The normally talkative gunner twitched restlessly, his hands moving behind him then in front, tucked under his bumper, then over his hood. And he stayed silent except for the ever present whine of his systems running.
background:white">Sunstreaker pointedly avoided looking at the mech, though he could hear every time the gunner's vocalizer activated only to click off again, words unspoken. Finally Hound approached them, giving Sunstreaker a wide berth, though he held two cubes of energon in his hand.
background:white">Sunstreaker watched as Hound came up on the other side of the gunner. “Blue, you're going to be late for your shift.” The scout's blue optics shifted toward Sunstreaker, but the golden mech refused to deign recognition. “I, ah, brought you some energon. I didn't think you'd taken the time to refuel.” The green mech shifted uncomfortably with his now-single cube. “Uh, here, um, Sunstreaker, I know you've been worried about your brother and everything,” Hound's voice went up a few octaves as Sunstreaker finally turned to glower at the intruding mech. “I'll just set it on this seat here, you can grab it whenever you want. See ya in a bit Blue.” Hound turned and made a nearly blatant hasty retreat, with Sunstreaker's glare hot on his backside.
background:white">Still the gunner lingered, as though waiting for some form of acknowledgment from the warrior. Finally he vented a sigh wing panels whining their way down. “I'm sorry, Sunstreaker,” he said in an unusually soft voice.
background:white">Still Sunstreaker refused to look at him, even when the gunner finally got up and left.