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Better Halves	By : sefiru Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Crossovers Views: 8853 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers and make no money on this.

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Better Halves
A Transformers fan fiction
By Sefiru
Summary: (G1, TFA) a space bridge experiment ends up connecting to an unexpected place.
Disclaimer: I don't own it and I make no money. Ba weep gra na weep nini bong.
Pairing(s): Optimus Prime/Prowl, Optimus Prime/Prowl
Warnings: NC-17, stickyfic , cross-continuity, language, violence
Greetings, flesh creatures ^^. First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who read the TF humor pieces I've posted before. This one will be more serious, mostly – my longtime readers know I'm always a little crazy. My goal in this fic is to write a multi-chapter TF drama *without* referring to Decepticon rape (srsly, what is with that?). So if you want a hundred hanky angst fest, seek elsewhere. In addition, there isn't enough O/P fanfic out there. And finally, I have a secret goal of something to include in every chapter; there's a virtual cookie for anyone who can guess it.
Updates are to be, as usual, every second Friday.
Still here? Let's roll …
***
Chapter 1: Talking to Himself
***
The wooded hillside was the only place in the galaxy where Prowl truly felt relaxed. There had been one other, once, but Master Yoketron's dojo had been gone for more than a million stellar cycles. For most of that time he'd roamed the galaxy on his optics quest, and he was barely closer to understanding than when he'd left. Earth's nonsentient organics, perhaps, could give him some hints. The trees didn't worry, didn't even think; they simply lived.
There was also the less philosophical pleasure of soft soil under his pedes . Cybertron had pavement, rock, the occasional patch of sand, but no soil. He'd almost embarrassed himself with a groan of delight the first time he'd stepped onto the spongy surface. The humans were wise to name their planet after the stuff; it was one of his few indulgences.
The AllSpark moved in mysterious ways. Initially he'd resented running into Optimus's repair crew, but they'd taken him in as one of their own; the only family he'd ever had besides Master Yoketron . Albeit a fuse-blowingly annoying family. Then, not a dozen stellar cycles after that, they'd found the AllSpark itself and set off a sequence of events that brought them here. To Earth. To Detroit. To the brink of a new Great War. And often, when the city noise and petty squabbling became too much, to this secluded grove of trees.
Unfortunately he couldn't stay in the forest forever. Even cyberninjas needed fuel, and he had a sensor watch coming up. He changed to bike mode and turned his wheels towards the city. < Prowl to base. I'm coming back in. Any situations I should know about? >
Ratchet's voice answered him. < It's been quiet. No 'Cons sighted, and the others are off chasing an AllSpark shard. >
< Business as usual, then. >
< Pretty much. Bulkhead picked up some strange transwarp energy, so Prime wants us all to keep our optics open. > With no exhortations to work as a team, thank Primus. Optimus had dialed back on those since arriving on Earth, or more precisely, since facing the Decepticons . That sort of thing came off better in practice than in preaching.
< Thanks, I'll keep that in mi— > The air in front of him shimmered, then rippled. He slammed on his brakes so hard that he skidded, but too late; he slewed sideways right into the … thing. A burst of static filled all his senses, and then he hit the ground, hard. " – nd ."
Changing to robot mode, he stood up and surveyed his surroundings. He was at the bottom of a dry, rocky valley, sand underfoot; he turned around in time to see the last shimmer of the anomaly vanish from the air. Strange transwarp energy, indeed. His diagnostics showed that he was functioning normally, aside from overheated brake disks; there was a strange flutter, almost an echo, in his Spark. There were human radio sources all around him, all analog and all mass media; a few minutes of listening gave him the year 1988. He'd been displaced in time as well as space. But what he sensed on Cybertronian channels truly terrified him – something he hadn't sensed since his youth. Heavy traffic, encrypted, on the Decepticon bands … and dozens of Autobot sources which were also heavily encrypted. War.
Where in Primus's name am I? And alone in a hot zone, with no support, no com codes, and no military grade weapons, what chance did he have?
He heard an engine approaching; to his relief, an Autobot transponder accompanied it. The weird resonance in his spark grew stronger. A black and white police car crested the hill above him, stopped, and transformed to reveal a massive bot with vehicle-door "wings" and broad chest plates, the Autobot ensign blazoned prominently in the center. They stared at each other for a long moment, feeling the resonance echo from Spark to Spark, and both of them reached the same astonishing conclusion. "You're …"
"…me." Bike-Prowl stepped closer to his counterpart, who was head and shoulders taller than him. "I've landed in an alternate dimension."
"Apparently." The other Prowl's door-wings waved slowly. "The warp rift?"
"Yes." He ran his sensors over the space he'd emerged from; the transwarp energy was still there, very faint. "It may be cyclical."
"Our science officers will examine it. Meanwhile, I'll take you to Optimus Prime." Great, this universe would have a counterpart of Optimus . Both bots dropped into vehicle mode, with bike-Prowl wondering if this Optimus was as irritating as the one he knew.
***
"You're sure this is Prowl's last known location?" Optimus was worried; the ninjabot had vanished from sensors a megacycle ago, and there wasn't a trace of him in the area.
"He was cut off in mid-sentence, of course I'm sure. And these skid marks match his tires." He could tell that Ratchet was concerned, too; the angrier he sounded, the more worried he was.
Bulkhead pushed some buttons on the portable scanner he was carrying. "Hang on, I think I've got something. It's that transwarp anomaly I saw before; it must have sucked him in."
"You don't think the Cons are messing with space bridges again, do you?" Bumblebee said.
"Whatever caused this, we have to find it and shut it down," Optimus declared.
"No!" yelled Bulkhead. "I mean, the anomaly's still there, it's just too weak to form a bridge. I think its amplitude is a sine wave derivative of the power source."
Bumblebee blinked. "English, please?"
"Bulkhead, how long until the bridge opens again?"
"Uh, probably a couple of solar cycles. I'd have to see the hardware to know for sure."
"Bulkhead went over my head?" Bee stammered. "Bulkhead went over my head!"
"What? I thought everyone knew calculus."
***
The two Prowls rolled side by side along the twisting road, the bike slightly behind. His black-and-white counterpart was silent; they were alike in at least that much. The echo between their Sparks was all the communication they needed at the moment. It was reassuring, in a way, to know he could rely on this bot as much as himself.
They rounded the curve of the hill and looked down into a broad canyon, where several Autobots were clearing up the site of a battle. Car-Prowl picked up speed. As bike-Prowl followed him, he struck a small bump in the road and they were suddenly rocked by an explosion. A land mine! The car skidded and spun out on the road, but bike-Prowl's lighter chassis was flung into the air. Realizing that he was falling into the canyon, he changed to robot mode to better control his landing. He hit hard anyway, rolled, and came up facing a small group of bots.
He could clearly tell which one was the leader, with the subtle sense of authority that he projected … wait. That red and blue paint. The way he stood. There could be no mistake … "Optimus Prime."
"An Autobot ," mused the other, "But not as we know them. What is your name?"
The voice was deeper. And more commanding. Prowl unconsciously stood straighter as he answered, "Prowl. Sir."
At this point, car-Prowl rolled up beside his leader and transformed. "Remarkable isn't it? And he has my Spark."
"Is that so?" Prime gazed down at him thoughtfully. "I can see that this is a long story, and one best told over energon . Autobots , transform – "
"Not so fast, Optimus Prime!" The voice came from the rim of the canyon. Prowl spotted the source; a Decepticon of Seeker design, shrill voice – please tell me that isn't …
"What do you want, Starscream ?"
Scrap. The Decepticon cackled, "That fool Megatron was too busy to notice, but I saw that curvy new piece you have there. Where'd you get the little ho-bot anyway, one of Wheeljack's experiments?"
Prowl covertly reached for his throwing stars. He'd gotten enough of these comments as a sparkling; he'd go to the Pit before taking them from Starscream . But before he could do anything rash, all of the Autobots had their weapons out and trained on the Seeker.
"If all you're here for is to make rude comments," Prime announced, "We'll give you a good reason to leave!" With that, the Autobots fired one warning shot each; Starscream shrieked and hastily retreated.
Prime lowered his rifle and turned to look at Prowl. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, sir. Aside from the disturbing idea that Starscream finds me attractive."
"That would disturb anyone," Prime said. " let's get you back to the ship. Autobots , transform and roll out!"
***
Prowl, meet Prowl. *silent glowering*
Next chapter: Is the crew of the Ark ready for two Prowls?
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Better Halves