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Becoming Mama Bear	By : Breech_Loader Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Het - M/F Views: 8539 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
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- 18
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Becoming Mama Bear

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651

~~~

Harley: Some people are wondering when exactly this fic takes place during the TFA series. Well, owing to Starscream being a member, I’d say it takes place some time in season 3, after everybody’s been brought back in. A hovering timeline, as they say.

Froggy: In other news, three other things are being planned as serious possibilities for this fanfic. A past for Prowl is very definitely in the works, and it involves both Jazz and Oil Slick. Let’s see if we can get it right before the series shows us what Prowl’s doing in a space-bridge repair team!

Harley: Secondly, a Bumblebee/Blurr relationship is a very real possibility for the future – although we haven’t forgotten about Dirge messing with everybody’s favourite yellow mech’s head. That’s got future plans too. And thirdly, I’ve got an idea. Maybe. A cute and horribly twisted idea.

~~~

Chapter Seventeen: Love Is Not Sex

Hotwire sighed. She didn't want to do this, but the fact was, she could either tell Prime about Bumblebee, or they'd notice that the loudest mech in the base was missing. Sari definitely would. And Prowl would tell them when he got back, whether he came back with Bumblebee or not. Honesty was the best policy. Probably. She approached Optimus.

"Ahem... Prime?" she asked him, "I have a problem?"

Optimus turned to face the ex-con, "What is it, Hotwire? Anything I can help with?" he asked, noting the way she had voiced a statement like a question.

"Well, not really... but it's something you ought to know," Hotwire swallowed, "You see, last night ago myself and Prowl were on the roof, talking... then Bumblebee interrupted us, and he saw us..." she waved her hands about, "Um... kissing." She talked faster, "And then Bumblebee ran off and drove away and he's turned off his com-link and Prowl went after him but neither of them has returned..."

"Correction. One of them has,” Prowl's calm voice called out from behind her. The ninja was walking towards them both, but even with his normally passive expression, the disappointment of failure was clear in his body language, "I searched all over Detroit for him, but I couldn't find Bumblebee anywhere. Most likely because he doesn't want to be found... or he's been captured by the Decepticons again. I do hope that's not the case..."

"If he has, we can't leave him behind again," Optimus said, "We have to go out and help him. I’m not going to believe he’s dead again, blocked energy signature or not."

"This was... my fault,” Prowl said, shaking his head and looking down at the ground, "I should have known he wasn't ready for this. For any of it. He and I have had the roughest time together. I should have known better." Hotwire had never seen him so distressed; it was the feeling of personal responsibility and failure that hurt the cyberninja so deeply.

"That's nice, but I was planning to blame myself, Prowl," Hotwire hesitated, "So that's what it feels like to listen to somebody blaming themselves for something that wasn't their fault," she thought aloud.

"None of that matters," said Optimus, "I'm going to get Ratchet to trace his energy signature. If he's too near the Decepticon base, we're going to bring him back right now. And if he's not back by tomorrow evening, we're still going to bring him back, even if we have to go right into that base to do it."

"Now why didn’t I think of that?" Hotwire said dryly, "Oh, because it’s suicide!" All the same, she looked incredibly worried.

Prowl sighed again, "No. If he's not captured by the Decepticons, we shouldn't force him to come back. That'll only make things worse. He'll come back eventually, and he can contact us when he wants us," the mech slumped, leaning against a nearby wall, "When he does come back... that's what I am worried about."

"I'm still going to get Ratchet to track his energy signature," Optimus repeated, walking out to talk with Ratchet, "He might have hurt himself while he was out there."

Hotwire watched him walk away, then returned her attention to Prowl, "Look on the bright side," she said, "I thought he'd go nuts when he found out about you and me."

"He's more worried about Bumblebee,” Prowl told her, “He may go nuts later.”

"Bumblebee will turn up," Hotwire said. She could hardly believe what she was saying. Usually she was the one who needed reassuring, "Ratchet will track down his energy signature, and I'm sure that by now he knows better than to go too near the 'con base. He'll come back when he's cooled down."

Prowl looked defeated, and he hadn't even been in a battle, "Yes, he will,” he said in agreement, "But what do we tell him when he does come back?"

"The truth?" Hotwire suggested, "That way we can work out what his problem was. I expect he was just surprised. I don't know why he would get so upset though..."

"He bonded with you emotionally during his time in the Nemesis. He likely feels very protective of you,” Prowl suggested despondently, "Seeing you with me... he may have viewed that as a threat."

“Prowl,” Hotwire walked up to him, cupping his face in her hands, “No one person is to blame for what’s happened. So don’t blame yourself. The longer you carry such a burden, the heavier it grows, but the harder it becomes to put down.”

Prowl embraced the femme, sighing softly, "You're right, of course,” he admitted, "But that's one thing we have in common; we're both very hard on ourselves."

"Why should you be so hard on yourself?" Hotwire asked him, cuddling up in his embrace, "You've never done anything wrong, surely. You’re an Autobot."

Burying his face in her neck, the mech chuckled softly at her assumption, "Believe it or not, even Autobots can do bad things. I for one can be too rash. It's gotten me into plenty of trouble before,” he admitted to her.

"Were you too rash in kissing me?" Hotwire asked him quietly, her head resting on his shoulder, her lips very close to his neck. The words sounded like a joke, but there was an edge to her voice that suggested the answer could be taken very seriously indeed.

Prowl considered his response carefully, but he didn't know exactly what Hotwire was hoping to hear. Honesty seemed to be the best policy around her, "Passion is supposed to be rash,” he told her after a moment, "It isn't meant to be tempered by logic and reason. But if you're asking me if it was a mistake... no, it wasn't."

"Hmmm..." Hotwire smiled properly for the first time since Bumblebee had run away. Then she sighed, still in Prowl's arms, "You... make me feel... happy," she said quietly, "But I feel bad about feeling happy when Bumblebee has gone missing like this..."

Prowl rubbed her back slowly as he placed his cheek against hers, "I know,” he whispered, “But he will come back, and he'll understand eventually. We just have to give him time. "

Still smiling a little, Hotwire hesitated, before planting a very soft kiss on Prowl’s neck, her arms still wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Prowl returned the gesture, kissing her cheek and resting his forehead against hers. Finally, he smiled too, letting himself relax slightly in her presence. He didn't want to worry. Not here.

"This helps," Hotwire told him. Her visor was still down, but for whatever reason, she wanted Prowl to be able to see how she felt easily. With one hand, she pushed it back, her green optics and scarred face coming into view. She didn't know why, but somehow she expected a different reaction to the first time she had shown him her face.

Prowl gazed into her optics and smiled again, holding her loosely as he pulled back so he could have a better look at her, "How did you get those scars?" he eventually asked, although his expression held no judgement in them, "If you don't mind telling me, of course."

"It's not that I mind telling you," Hotwire said, glancing down, "It's just that you might not like the answer... or believe me..."

"I've believed you so far,” Prowl told her, "I doubt I'm about to stop now."

Hotwire sighed, "I was in a Triage situation on a battlefield, repairing both Autobots and Decepticons," she told him, "I trod on a landmine, and lost my right leg. Red hot shrapnel hit my visor, shattering it and tearing up my face. The heat of the blast melted the visor, and the shards melted into the cuts. I had to repair myself with nothing but a welding torch and scrap metal because the Medi-bots were prioritising Autobots," she paused, "It was an Autobot mine too."

"Mines are indiscriminate weapons,” Prowl replied, nodding in understanding, "Accidents happen. Still, why did you never get your face repaired properly? You obviously don't like the scars."

"Because it’s hard enough to repair your own leg when you’re half-blind, let alone your own face," Hotwire said, “By the time I’d managed to repair my leg, my face had cooled down and the scars had hardened. A quick repair job isn’t going to fix them. Nothing short of a new face is going to fix them. The scars are so old now that even the Allspark key didn’t heal them. Also, I deserve them."

"Do I have to defend your actions against yourself again?" Prowl sighed, half-joking, "Because I will, you know." He drew Hotwire closer to him again, hugging her against his chassis, "You're a healer, Hotwire, in more ways than one,” he added.

Hotwire held onto him, nuzzling his chassis, "Prowl?" she asked him, heat flushing to her cheeks at the implications of what she was about to ask of him, "Can we... go somewhere more private?"

Looking down at her, Prowl nodded slowly, understanding what she was asking. "Yes,” he answered softly, "Nobody will bother us in my room..."

Hotwire walked with him, still feeling kind of bad about all of this when it was practically Bumblebee seeing them kissing that made him run away. She dismissed this guilt with the absolute promise to herself that if he hadn't returned by tomorrow evening, she was going out to track down his energy signature.

Prowl led her through the warehouse to his own room, where a large tree had grown through the floor, supported by the sunlight that streamed through a hole in the ceiling. Asides from that, it was a relatively empty room, revealing the simple way in which Prowl had chosen to live. There were a few posters of Japanese culture on the walls. It was a little island of peace in the middle of the bustling city.

Hotwire closed the door behind her, then looked up at Prowl again, "It's strange, how you can feel bad about feeling good when you're worried," she said, a little sadly, "But then you end up feeling good about feeling bad... and it all goes around in circles. Until your hard drive melts."

"I usually take it as a sign that my ethics programs are functioning,” Prowl replied, understanding what she meant. He waited a moment, giving Hotwire a chance to look over his room, before he held onto her, pulled her towards him, and kissed her for the second time.

This time there was no long, uncomfortable pause while Hotwire did nothing; she started responding almost immediately. One small hand stroked up and down Prowl's arm, while the other rested on his waist. As the kiss continued, her plait coiled up and slid around his shoulders.

Prowl deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking her lips before slipping carefully into her mouth, one of his hands rubbing against the unusual, tail-like plait as it coiled around him, the other pausing at her side. He guided the femme towards the cot he kept by the tree for recharging and sat them both down.

He could feel Hotwire smiling into the kiss. She broke the kiss gently, moving her lips down to his neck. It all felt so close, so warm, so safe... not feelings she was used to, but all feelings she was very much enjoying.

Prowl couldn't help but smile, relaxing and letting Hotwire tend to him gently, letting her explore him in the privacy of his room. He had the feeling that she had not done this in a long time. He wouldn't rush her; this intimacy was hers to enjoy this time.

Hotwire continued to kiss Prowl's neck, her hands shifting somewhat. The hand on his arm moved down to rest on his leg, while the end of her plait stroked his cheek.

"This is nice,” Prowl rumbled softly, stroking the top of her head and letting his hand slide down to the back of her neck. He rubbed it, feeling servos relax under his touch. He lived a very solitary existence, even among his friends, so this moment of intimacy was a rare occurrence for him, too. He didn't often let people get close to him.

"Yes, it is," Hotwire agreed, pausing with her head on Prowl's shoulder, "I like your room," she said, looking at the tree, and the hole it was growing through, "I bet all this organic life... looks really beautiful in the moonlight."

Prowl sounded surprised as he replied, "Few people seem to notice it." He looked at her again, seeing a hint of something he hadn't noticed before.

"It's not so much the nature," Hotwire said softly, "It's more... all of it together. The tree is fighting with the building itself... but one of these days, despite all the resistance the artificial construction is putting up, the organic life will win..."

"Yes,” Prowl said, knowing this topic very well, "Despite seeming so still and peaceful, even plant life is constantly fighting to survive. If cities were left on their own, nature would consume them in a few years."

Hotwire sighed happily, and shifted again, this time to kneel on Prowl’s cot facing him. Even her plait shifted. Now, while her head rested on his shoulder, looking up at him, her plait coiled around his waist. One hand lay on his thigh, while the other reached up, trailing over his lips.

Prowl kissed the tips of her fingers gently, one of his own hands trailing down her torso suggestively. He rubbed upwards, along her neck and across her cheek, cupping her face.

A genuine smile spread across Hotwire's scarred features, and a purr of contentment revved from her engine as she closed her optics, "Prowl," she murmured, tilting her head back as his hand moved down her torso, "You... make me feel... so happy..."

Prowl smiled back, kissing her neck and letting his fingertips lightly touch her midriff, curving off to the side to run over her hips, "Me too,” he whispered.

Hotwire’s engine gave another low purr, and she shifted closer to Prowl, their chassis bumping together lightly. She pressed her cheek into his hand, her optics still closed. Then they snapped open again, and she flushed deeply as her hips gave a slight buck of pleasure at his gentle touch.

Prowl hummed softly, noticing her encouraging reaction. Seeing her jerk suddenly like that, the obvious pleasure written all over her flushed face... it was more than his carefully constructed emotional blocks could handle. He could feel his own desire for the femme medic growing. Still smiling, he carefully slid aside her crotch plating and slipped his fingers inside.

"Um... nnngh..." Hotwire squirmed a little as Prowl explored the very sensitive area. To say she'd never been touched there would be a lie. But what was true was that she had never been touched there so gently. Prowl stroked her access port as if it was made of the finest china, causing heat to pool downwards. She managed to concentrate enough to move her right hand from his hips to start prying gently between his thighs.

Prowl offered no resistance, merely making soft, rumbling sounds of pleasure, one hand stroking the femme's waist while the fingers between her legs slid along exposed wires and an access port, already wet with lubricants.

Hotwire bit her lip hard, further moans leaving her as she squirmed in pleasure against Prowl's touch. Then her fingers found the catches they had been searching for, and Prowl's crotch-plating moved aside easily. With another mewl of pleasure, she slipped her fingers inside, probing carefully.

Prowl jerked and shivered slightly, a grunt of satisfaction escaping his mouth as he felt Hotwire's small hand inside him, jolts running up through his circuits into his CPU, his spark pulsing with energy, "Hotwire,” he whispered hoarsely before kissing the femme deeply and easing a finger into her, trying to provide as much pleasure as he could.

Hotwire's gangly body was trembling against his as she returned the kiss passionately, "Prowl... oh, Prowl..." she gasped out. Then her fingers began to search deeper, locating his interface cables and wrapping around them. She squirmed again, then began to search over his body for other sensitive places.

Lowering his guard, Prowl let her explore anything and everything she wanted as he carefully slid another finger into her port, stretching it gently. All the while, he put all of the knowledge he had of the Cybertronian body, its pressure points and erogenous zones, once used to defeat an enemy, now put to use pleasuring his new lover. His free hand slowly stroked her chassis and his wandering lips nipped at her audio sensors. His moans of pleasure urged her on, letting her know what he liked.

Hotwire sucked in a deeper vent of air as Prowl's hand trailed over her headlights. A slow smile spread over her face as she traced her fingers over the 'wings' on his shoulders, prompting a rather deeper moan from him. Pulling herself closer, she began to squeeze and stroke at them with both her plait and her hand.

Prowl shivered with passion as she toyed with his wings, and returned the gesture, letting his kisses trail over her shoulders down to her headlights.

Hotwire gave a whimper of pleasure, her hips bucking again. She could feel the steady flow of warmth and desire pooling between her thighs as Prowl moved two of his fingers inside her. She hadn’t interfaced for millennia. It had earned her a reputation as ‘frigid’, though that was infinitely preferable to Dirge’s reputation as a slut.

Prowl groaned, his hips shaking, and ran his tongue over her neck, “Hotwire...” he murmured, even as his fingers pressed inside of her, his voice rasping with desire; desire for her body, desire for her warmth, desire for her love...

Hotwire shivered and moaned at the touches. Her lips began to shower Prowl's neck with soft, brief kisses. And her fingers pressed firmly against his interface cable as she searched for the right pressure point. Did she dare... to think of Prowl as a lover? Did she really love him? Was she even capable of that feeling anymore? There was no doubt that this felt so very... very... good... But was it really love?

Prowl paused in his kisses, letting his fingers rest still in her for moment, as he looked into her optics. He sensed the brief hesitation, felt the uncertainty in the tenseness of her servos, "Is everything alright?" he whispered.

"I... just..." Hotwire was unsure of what to say. Somehow she doubted that Prowl would be doing this if he didn't care very deeply for her. She knew by now he wasn't flighty, and took everything seriously. She wasn't so sure about her own feelings, "It... feels good, if that's what you mean," she said, half of her hoping that was all he meant... and half of her hoping it wasn't.

Prowl frowned, looking over her carefully, "Something is bothering you,” he replied softly, patiently, "If you don't want to do this right now, I'll understand. You can trust me."

"It... it's not that," Hotwire said quietly, still very aware of his fingers inside her port, "I can't explain... I know you mean it, but I don't know if I mean it... and I'm not even sure how to mean it..." She spoke quickly, as if afraid that if she didn't get it all out at once she wouldn't be able to get it out at all, "I don't want to be wrong about you..."

Prowl smiled knowingly, "You want me to love you, but you don't know how to tell if I do,” he translated for her, "Well I can't say anything to prove it; it's only something we can feel."

Hotwire smiled sadly, "It's not you I don't trust," she released Prowl's cables gently, easing her hand out of the sensitive area, before carefully easing his fingers out of her with a shiver, "It's me."

Prowl looked at his hands and then glanced back at her, a puzzled look on his face, "Why would you not trust yourself?"

"Because..." Hotwire looked down. She trusted Prowl. And he had trusted her, "You see..." she started to speak fast again, "There was this other mech I trusted. Then I told him something, and he... pushed me off the edge of the building we were standing on. I fell 250 feet into a car compactor. He switched it on. I managed to get out and he tried to get me back in and I stung him and pushed him in..." she shuddered, "I lost an arm and a leg in there,” she shuddered again, “I loathe Seekers... and heights...”

Prowl shuddered himself, but turned it into a sigh, "It's what you told him,” he said, carefully examining her words, "You're afraid that if I know too much about you, that I'll react in the same way."

"It's not just that," Hotwire replied, "I thought it was love... I think he did too... But then he pushed me off a building. It can't have been love if he did that. I... I can't trust my spark."

Prowl's frown deepened as he drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace, "You can't blame yourself for that,” he whispered into her audio, "We all misjudge people at some point. But closing your spark to love because of it will just leave you in pain."

Hotwire didn't say anything. She just wrapped her arms around Prowl and started to sob quietly, burying her face in his beautiful black and gold chassis.

Prowl leant back so that Hotwire now lay on top of him, holding her close and showering her cheeks, neck and shoulders with soft, comforting kisses. Supporting her, trying to take some of the weight off her back. Despite her facade of being a hard, chilly femme, she was so warm and vulnerable inside, and a desperate need to protect her from herself rose up inside of him. In some ways, this was the most vulnerable he too had been, in a long, long time. And for once, he wasn't afraid of that.

~~~

Harley: Here’s a tip for writing arousing scenes – if you find yourself heating up by reading them, you’re doing a good job.

Froggy: Read and review!
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Becoming Mama Bear