Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

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.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
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
Shozurei : you know the gears are turning in there somewhere …
GabrielC : as for what their futures hold, I have a plan. ^^ I don't know if it'll be a full fic or just an epilogue, but you'll see it.
Hi, everyone! This has not been my week. This includes a frankly insane work schedule, having to look for another job, injuring my foot (not serious, but painful), and then yesterday coming down with a dreadful flu. However, I flipped off destiny and got this chapter to you anyway! You can expect updates on Sundays from now on.
In this chapter: Sentinel-bashing and ninja sparring.
***
Chapter 13: Cyberninja Rap
***
      This was the most fun that Sunstreaker had had in a long time. This blue chinbot was so easy to wind up – and it didn't involve getting shot at or smudging his chrome. Through his link to his twin, he could tell that Sideswipe was enjoying himself too. Sides had always had a penchant for mischief; Sunny thought it came from having red paint. Thus far they'd taken Sentinel on a purposely meandering tour through the ship, pointing out "notable" sights such as Compartment ID-10-T, the orientation detector (a large spike that always pointed in the direction the ship was facing), and the contrail maintenance depot. Sides tricked him into setting off one of the paint traps that hadn't been removed yet, giving him a rather fetching redeco . All that was only the setup, though; once they had him good and wound up, they took him to a compartment near the stern of the Ark.
      "Now, in here we've got an infestation of turbonigglers ," Sunny announced.
      "It's a tradition for anyone who's new to the ship to try to get rid of them," Sides continued. "Nobody's ever got them all, but the more you zap, the better a fighter you are."
      "Ha! Let me at them!" Sentinel drew his lance and charged through the door … only to fall face first into a vat of waste engine fluids. Sunny and Sides clapped servos at this flawless execution. The glitch deserved it for mouthing off on Optimus Prime – though Sunny would never say so to anyone but his twin. Loyalty wasn't part of his image, after all. Some bots weren't even sure why he wore the red ensign instead of the purple; but Prime was the only bot he respected, Sides was the only bot he cared about, and Megatron had tried to frag him for no apparent reason. Reason enough for Sunstreaker . Besides, Autobots knew how to take a joke, at least most of them.
       Sentinel had managed to clamber out of the tank. "You can't do this, you screwloose oil stains! I'm going to – "
       "Do what?" Sunny sneered. "You're a glitched -out data pusher with delusions of competence. Go interface your desk, and let the real soldiers do the work."
       "We're only required to keep you in one piece," Sideswipe added. "Aw, scrap, the paint washed off."
       Sunny frowned; the waste fluids weren't nearly as eye-catching. Before he could do more than list the remaining paint trap locations, Sentinel charged towards him. Not three steps later he crashed to the floor, as if his pedes had been hooked out from under him. Then, out of nowhere, a splatter of pink paint blossomed on his back. Then another. Sunny grinned.
       "Nice one, Mirage."
       "I knew the Sentinel Prime of this universe, before the war." The still-invisible Autobot flipped Sentinel over and fired another two paint rounds at his chest. "He was a capable enough leader in peacetime, but he didn't deal well with surprises. Like you, he thought he was all that and a pair of fuzzy dice. Unlike you, he lived up to it when the chips were down. Your behavior thus far is an insult to his memory, his name, and his sacrifice. Change it."
       < Fuzzy dice? Chips are down? I think our Mirage is less respectable than he pretends,> Sides said through the Spark-link.
       < I like him more already.> Sentinel was well and truly owned. Now that he knew where to look, Sunny could see the faint outline of Mirage's hologram as he turned towards them.
       "On another note, you may be interested to hear that Young Prowl is sparring with otherworld Jazz." His footsteps receded down the corridor.
       < I'm there. That metallikato is hot, > Sides said.
       < And other Jazz is supposed to be better than him. > Sunny hauled Sentinel upright by the back of his shoulder plates. < Go ahead, we'll catch up.>
***
      "Been a while, ain't it, Prowl."
      "Indeed it has." Prowl faced Jazz across the dusty expanse of the Autobots' sparring field, in the bowl of the caldera above the Ark. He settled his pedes into the fine volcanic ash, poised. To use his skills in combat was one thing, but he hadn't sparred with another Metallikato user since before leaving the dojo. This would test his processing on a whole other level.
       Jazz blurred out of sight, even with the increased frame rate he was using. His first instinct was to leap, but Jazz knew that; he sprang into the air to meet him. Fortunately, Prowl got a pede against his chest and kicked off, slamming Jazz back to the ground and flinging himself halfway across the arena. Jazz was on him almost before he landed. Strike, strike, block, strike; at these speeds, the fight depended on memory and automated response more than processing. Prowl unleashed a series of his trademark flying kicks to drive Jazz backwards, until Jazz caught his ankle and used the leverage to flip him into the ground. They sprang apart to select their next moves.
       "I thought ya'd come find me at least once all this time," Jazz told him.
       "I did not wish to interrupt my optics quest," Prowl answered. I didn't think you'd want to see a failure like me.
       "You won't get new data without talking to people."
       "So I've learned." This time Prowl moved first. He feinted, pretending to strike Jazz's neck, but instead seized his wrist when he blocked. He twisted Jazz's arm into a pin but the ninjabot slithered out of it as nimbly as a snake. The battle intensified; Jazz's speed went up another notch, but Prowl had a secret weapon to draw on. When Jazz zipped behind him, he whirled around to face him. When Jazz faked a strike at his knee joints, he was ready. He smirked. He had learned much about the value of teamwork recently …
***
      On the balcony overlooking the sparring ground, Prime watched elder Prowl observe – intently observe – the match going on below. "You're sharing data with him, aren't you, Prowl."
      "Jazz said he would spar with Prowl. He didn't specify which one." Prowl's tone was distant, but his wings flicked with amusement. "I wonder if he will catch on."
      Prime's optics twinkled. However much Prowl pretended to be the dour and dutiful officer, there was always that touch of wildness that made life with him interesting. As he was about to reply, his counterpart and Ultra Magnus came out of the access tunnel; they had finished their own debriefing. Ultra Magnus apparently had not told Optimus of all that he knew, or Optimus would have felt a lot more disturbed. He gave Ultra Magnus a sharp glance as he turned to them, but he respected his choice to remain silent. "Optimus, I've reviewed the logs of your exercise. I thought your knee joint kept you from transforming?"
       "I thought so too, but my auto-repair seems to have adapted to it. Ratchet still wants to install a proper replacement."
       Down below, Jazz had realized that something was amiss. He looked up at the balcony and noticed elder Prowl's intent optics. "Hey! If y'all are gonna be all two-processors-are-one, come down here and fight like a bot!"
       "As you wish." Prowl leaped over the edge of the balcony and landed with a boom on the arena floor, rising from the dust cloud like an avenging angel. He smacked one servo into the palm of the other in wordless challenge.
      Now Jazz was faced with a dilemma. If he attacked the elder Prowl, the younger was free to come at him from any direction. And if he went after the younger, Prowl would lure him into the elder's range; elder Prowl, though not a technical fighter, was powerful and brutally efficient. He was also the Autobots' senior tactical officer. Within minutes, Jazz was fully on the defensive.
      Of course, he had a counterpart watching as well. Seeing how the match was progressing, the larger Jazz stepped into the arena as well. "Yo , bro. Looks like we gotta teach my fellow officer some manners."
      "Bring it, you chrome-faced dilettante!" And with that, the battle began in earnest. The numbers were a bit more even now – a cyberninja and a soldier on each side – but the Prowls still had the upper hand. Chiefly because they had full command of their Spark-link; they moved as one being, data flowing between them unimpeded. The Jazzes' greater fighting skill did not quite make up for that, and they were ever so gradually being ground into the dust.
       Up above, Optimus watched the battle with barely concealed excitement. Prowl and Prowl, both in their element, showing off moves that made his engine run hot just from looking at them. He caught a matching glow of desire coming from Prime.
     he asked.
      < Both of them, both of us? > Prime answered. He looked out over the field, where elder Prowl had just backhanded ninja-jazz into his counterpart's face. Optimus felt him grin under his mask. < I think we could get them to do anything we wanted … >
***
Sentinel got told.
I obviously have been reading too much Harry Potter, because the Lambo Twins are acting more like Fredswipe and Georgestreaker (ok, that sounds awful).
Next chapter: OP/P/P/OP foursome! Probably with some P/P, I will also take suggestions.
- 12
- 13
- 14
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Better Halves