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Market Commodity - Recycled	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Round Robins Views: 1764 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own Transformers, Hasbro holds all rights - author is not making a dime off of this fanfic

Chapter List
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**Do not own Transformers – Hasbro holds all the rights**
Auction Treasures – Part 2
G1 clone universe/written by stSE
Note: Been a long time since I’ve gotten a muse. Been reading through all of my and other author’s clone stories lately. Ended up with a muse – thanks everyone!
Setting: 8+ years after the Autobots began selling clones. But before any calamities hit. Now there is a big used clone market for those buyers that aren’t rich. Though most of these used clones have some unique glitches…
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Dawn felt a light kiss on her cheek. Eyes slowly opened, blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the morning brightness.
“Good morning, Dawn,” Scraps purred. Balanced in his hands was a tray set with perfectly mixed coffee and her normal Saturday morning breakfast of a cheese egg omelet and a bowl of berries. The Scrapper clone beamed with pride as he nodded a silent greeting to the other clone whom was just now rebooting. Constructicon clones were not known for being skilled at domestic tasks – and yet he had eventually mastered most of them.
Scooting herself up to a sitting position against her pillow, Dawn tipped her chin up to meet the expected kiss as Scraps leaned down to place the tray across her lap. It was then that she noticed that he was covered in dried splatters of muddy water. “What happened this morning?” she asked, as she sipped her coffee.
Scraps had a beach towel thrown over his shoulder. Nonchalantly, he spread it out next to her before settling himself on the bed next to her. He was not about to soil her sheets, and he knew that he hadn’t been able to fully clean himself off from the morning’s chaos. “The storm that blew in at 3am, caused some trees to fall on the back fence,” he explained.
Her eyes opened wide in shock! She was usually awakened by storms like those. “The horses?” she asked, putting an imploring hand on his arm.
“Spooked, and loose in the neighbor’s field,” he grinned as he patted her arm, “but they were uninjured. I caught them up and put them in stalls for now.”
“Oh, thank god!” She looked up at Scraps and kissed his bare cheek plate, “You’re so wonderful Scraps! So wonderful!”
The clones met optics as Dawn leaned into Scraps’ offered arms. “This means we’ve got a lot of work to do today. No shopping for you,” the mentor clone informed him with a humor filled gleam to his red orbs.
“Whatever you want me to do, sir” the Magnus clone replied. He assumed that since this clone would be basically his superior here at this new home – he would treat him as such.
Scraps stood up, motioning for Mags to follow him. “Sorry to take your new bed toy away so quickly,” he joked to Dawn with quite the obnoxious wink.
Tossing Mags’ pillow at him, she managed a direct hit to his chest plate. “Humph! You wish!” she shot back.
The Magnus clone remained stoically silent, though his face plate heated up a bit at the obvious insinuations. Dawn had commanded him to not speak of her interest. Why she wanted to hide it from his mentor clone – he hadn’t the slightest clue. And the directness of Scraps – he’d never seen a clone truly act as an equal to his owner before. The teens back at the concessions stand were right – Scraps really did act human!
Grabbing Mags’ arm, Scraps chuckled as he dragged him along to his workshop out in the barn. He was still chuckling to himself as he motioned for Mags to lie down on a table in the center. “You do realize, the stronger she denies it – the more she’s really into you?” he snickered as he pulled his grease gun out. “That’s what happens in all the movies.”
Mags kept his mouth clamped shut, afraid that if he’d opened it – he’d disobey Dawn.
Opening panels with an experienced hand, the repair bot began to grease up all of Mags’ failing bearings. He needed him capable to do a lot of heavy lifting today – bad bearings and all. At least the layer of grease would help patch him up until the parts came in. “Still depressed?” he asked as he finished up one hip and began to work on the other.
“Um, no sir,” the Magnus clone stammered.
Scraps paused in his quick patch up job. His sharp optics easily spotted the rise in temperature of the other’s armor. “So what’d you two do last night?” he asked with a hopeful glint in his ruby orbs.
“She, uh,” Mags paused – afraid he’d tick off his new mentor on his very first day. “She ordered me to tell you that it is none of your business.” He dropped his optics to stare at his peds, just waiting for the Scrapper clone to go off.
Instead, the purple and green clone howled in laughter. “Ah-Ha! I knew it!” he hooted as he patted his patient’s hood. “She’s more attracted to Ultra Magnus than she let on – isn’t she?” he asked as he leaned over and peered directly into Mags’ optics with an expectant gleam in his orbs. “And you suck at avoiding the topic.”
“Can I ask you something, sir?” Mags asked, trying to get enough courage to even ask. After Scraps gave him an amused nod, he continued, “Why are you so interested in what goes on between her and I?”
The constructicon clone snickered as he started working on Mags’ shoulder servos. “I’ve been here six months. She told me at the very beginning that she’d never been with a clone – and never intended to be. And during those six months, I’ve started noticing a pattern.”
Mags cringed as he moved to his other shoulder and stuck the grease gun into his servo. “Which is?” he asked, encouraging the other clone to continue.
“Every time Dawn watched a news show, or a documentary, or even an interview – with either Optimus Prime or Ultra Magnus – she’d disappear into her room and lock the door soon after,” the Scrapper clone grinned behind his mask, “and I know what she does in there.”
The Magnus clone waited patiently for his mentor to finish his story.
Leaning down, Scraps whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “She masturbates.” He motioned for the other clone to sit up. “For some reason, she won’t come to me for release. And I don’t want her to find it in the arms of some human male.”
“Why not?” Mags innocently asked.
Scraps threw up him arms in disbelief. “Which humans treat us with the most contempt?” He leaned forward and pushed an almost accusatory finger into Mags’ hood, “And I’d bet that most of your abuse came at the hands of human males – didn’t it?”
The Ultra Magnus clone tried to look down on his peds, very uncomfortable at the direction this conversation was taking. But he couldn’t outright lie – so he nodded.
“See?!? Don’t you see why I will do anything to keep a human male from staking his claim on her?” Putting his grease gun away, the scrapper clone held a hand out to the other. “I’m the only male she needs for keeping her farm in order – and you are the only male she should need in the sack. We must work together to ensure our current and future happiness here.”
Not willing to shake on it, the new clone looked up at his mentor in disbelief. “But I told you that I didn’t want pleasure programming before you bid on me!” he accused.
Scraps shrugged, “You seemed to have adjusted quickly to her touch – in just a single night,” he gave the other a knowing wink.
Standing up, the Mags clone shrank back. “She said it’s none of your business,” he replied in a defeated tone.
Chuckling, the purple and green clone wrapped an arm over his back armor. “I’m saying that it’s in our best interest for you to attempt to learn to do anything she asks you to. She treats us well. We do not want a human male to move in. Take control over us.”
“It’s none of your….” Mags’ words were cut off by a hand over his mouth.
“Think about it Mags. Your model is as intelligent as mine. You know what’s best for us – just as I do.” Scraps grinned behind his mask as he freed the Magnus clone’s mouth. “No more abuse – ever! To be treated like equals. To be always properly trained before our performance is judged. And…” he paused for effect, “the longer it takes for Dawn to chase you down – the more attached she will be to you. The chase is as exciting as the catch to a woman. Wouldn’t you like that Mags? To be loved and cherished? To be the only one sharing her bed?”
It did sound like a dream world – that he might have at his fingertips. But he’d always screwed everything up in the past with humans, why would this be any different? “But what if I – screw it up?” he groaned. He was certain he’d fail, he always failed.
“That’s the beauty of your shot with Dawn, Mags!” Scraps’ optics were gleaming in brilliant fire. “Dawn expects you to expect to fail at everything at first. That’s what will make you irresistible to her when you’re finally strong enough to agree to the pleasure download. She’ll feel like – she turned you back into a mech with some ball bearings!”
It made sense from all he’d experienced of the woman already. “So you really want this? Me – and her?” he asked in amazement. “You chose me – because I have no confidence in myself?”
“Yes, yes and most definitely yes!” Scraps retracted his face mask so that Mags could see his happy grin. “And it doesn’t matter if it takes you years to get there. As long as she’s focused on getting under your armor – no man has a shot at catching her eyes!”
Tentatively, Mags held his hand out; now ready to give his pledge to attempt to learn how to be a pleasure clone. A true smile spread across his lips as the other clone’s hand met his. He had his first ‘brother’ clone. A strong clone who would help guide him to achieving their mutual goal. “What do I tell Dawn when she asks about your inquiries?”
Scraps shrugged, “Just tell her that I keep pestering you – and it makes you feel uncomfortable. It’d be pretty typical behavior for me,” he grinned mischievously.
“However, it is the truth,” Mags replied – his smile widening.
“Yep, and we all know that your model sucks at lying!” Scraps agreed. With a nod, he motioned for the Magnus clone to follow him. “Now it’s day one of training. We’ve got to cut up five large downed trees, clean up and then fix the fences. Hope you’ve got a full charge…”
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Sipping her second cup of coffee, Dawn stepped out on the back deck and looked down the main field. There they were – Scraps at the wheel of her big four wheel drive tractor and Mags riding in the front bucket of it. Poor thing was probably trying to hold down the chainsaws and other tools too! She thought to herself with a wry grin. Scraps was a very specific clone when he was put in charge of something. Fortunately, Ultra Magnus clones were very good at following directions without argument. So they’d make a good team.
Finishing up her coffee, she set the cup in the kitchen sink and wandered back to her bedroom. Without even being conscious of it, she locked the door as it closed. Her mind was now focused on reminiscing of warm armor sliding under her fingertips… Of his terrified shivers as he desperately tried to handle her touch.. His weak moan of defeat as he succumbed to shut down time after time…
“Mmmmm,” slipping off her nightshirt, she touched her breasts as she peaked out the window. The object of her desire was trudging through the mud as he drug a section of a thick log that Scraps had just cut. Getting to the front bucket of the tractor, the clone knelt down and lifted the entire six foot section as if it weighed nothing and tossed it into the bucket. She licked her lips as he turned and went back for more. So strong…. Yet he didn’t even realize it himself.. Maybe that’s what turned her on about the real mech? He was so powerful – and didn’t have a lick of pride.
Her fingers slipped down between her legs, pleasuring herself as she continued to watch him work. The bucket full on the tractor, he and Scraps seemed to be deep in discussion as Scraps showed him how to drive it and work the hydraulics. She could almost see the look of trepidation on his handsome face as he drove the tractor back towards the barn and house by himself – while Scraps pushed the chain saw to its limits getting the next load readied. Mags drove the tractor very, very slowly – terrified that he’d hit something. His cautiousness was so.. arousing…. To Dawn..
She sat on the bed, the sheer curtains allowing her to continue watching him in secrecy as he stacked the logs against the side of the barn – in perfect line of sight from her bedroom window. She sank her fingers deeper into her need, as her eyes ravaged his chassis. Finished unloading and stacking, he turned towards the house as he began to step back up on the tractor in order to drive it back. He paused there for a long moment, almost seeming to stare directly at her through her sheer curtains. His blue orbs full of contemplation – his intelligence obvious when he didn’t think he was being observed… judged… condemned…
Dawn caught her breath as she felt like the one being watched for that long moment. Did he know she was secretly observing him? Lusting after him – even as he worked? The excitement… the thrill of possibly being caught… pushed her right over the edge.. Her eyes threatened to roll into her head as she moaned her release. Wonderful waves of ecstasy racing through her as her muscles contracted. She sagged onto the bed – relaxing in the after glow.
Unbeknowest to Dawn, or most humans for that matter, was the fact that clones sporting the thin audio receptors had the ability to receive and interpret the slightest sound frequencies. Their hearing, if you would call it that, made a dog’s ability seem like child’s play. They never made this ability very well known, since it was normally the calmer of the models whom displayed it. And the mechs assumed it was simply a normal level of functioning anyways. But this hidden ability had unwittedly alerted Mags to the evidence that Scraps suspicions were completely on target. He could detect Dawn’s low moans the second that he had turned the tractor’s diesel engine off.
Hearing those muffled moans, he felt the creepy sensation that he was being watched as he stacked the logs. He kept his optics down whenever he turned to heft another log up, terrified that if he looked up and actually saw her watching him – he’d lose it to another panic attack. Pausing, he silently counted to ten as he swung back up on the tractor in order to leave. His meta calmed by the counting, he was able to maintain a poker face as his optics glanced at the window he knew was hers. Behind those thin curtains he was positive that she watched him.
He let out an audible sigh of relief as he pivoted on his leg and sat down in the tractor’s seat – his back armor now facing that window. He leaned his head against the steering wheel for a moment, trying to regain his composure again, as he started it back up. How was he going to learn to deal with this situation? In truth, it seemed to be the most promising home he’d ever had. But the strings that were so obviously attached… Could he come to terms with them? Scraps had sworn that it wouldn’t matter if it took years for him to warm up to the idea – but he knew how deep Dawn’s desire went. She owned him. It wasn’t like she’d actually have to wait – if she chose not to. Then again, she seemed to actually consider her clones’ feelings to a point.. He banged his head against the steering wheel in frustration – before throwing it in gear and heading back to Scraps. He was such a glitched up clone – that he couldn’t even find happiness in the home of an owner who valued him!
Dawn watched him as he bowed his head into the steering wheel for a moment – and then banged his head against it twice. She could sense some frustration within his frame. Poor thing, he was so worried that he’d screw up for Scraps. A sad little sigh left her lips as she began to dress herself. One day he’d be confident again… One day…
But today, she’d thought of a few things that might brighten his evening up. She just had to go to the store and get them. So off she went….
************
With heavy metallic footsteps, the Ultra Magnus clone obediently followed his mentor clone back into the barn. They’d spent the last ten hours cutting up and removing the fallen trees, after which they patched the fence back together as best they could on such short notice. It had been a bonding experience for the abused clone. An experience that he’d never had before. The Scrapper clone had shown him how to do most tasks – before asking him to complete them. He had been a positive and supportive leader, never yelling when Mags screwed up – instead he calmly retrained him. It had happened over-and-over with the same calm reaction.
“Set the fence cutters back on those hooks,” Scraps ordered – his fingers pointing to the exact hooks. Today, he’d learned to leave nothing to the imagination with this Magnus clone. The poor glitch had so little self direction that he’d stand there in confusion when a task wasn’t laid out for him in a move-by-move sequence. But if it was clear to him, he’d proven to be a tireless hard worker whom stayed totally focused on the assigned task until it was fully completed. So all weaknesses aside, the Scrapper clone was rather pleased with his choice of assistants.
Mags strode by with a quiet nod. He felt the darkness of his world lifting with each passing hour at this new home of his. His mentor clone seemed to understand his glitches, and had been truthful that he’d train him well for any task he would be assigned. Lifting the cutters up, Mags carefully set them on their assigned hook, making sure they settled in the exact orientation as the other tools hanging next to them. He’d learned that his mentor was a stickler for order.
“Very good,” Scraps complimented. Motioning for the other to follow him, he turned and strolled to the feed room. “We will feed the horses. When they are finished eating, I will show you how we put them out.”
The Magnus clone preened at the quick compliment. It was the first time that he could remember anyone being pleased with his work. Following along, he listened and watched intently as Scraps explained about the feeding and management of the farm’s horses. True, he’d been around horses before – having been swapped amongst the horse traders for a few weeks. But he’d never been trained on how to effectively deal with them. So more often than not, he’d get kicked or pawed at, and have a trader yelling at him for his stupidity.
“So, are you trained in the handling of horses?” Scraps asked as he carried the feed buckets down the stall row.
Tromping along behind him, Mags shook his helm and mumbled “Not really,” in a quiet voice.
“Hmmmm,” the Scrapper clone stopped in front of one stall. Opening the feed gate, he chuckled as an enormous brown horse stuck her head out. She began to rub against him as she neighed in greeting.
Mags couldn’t help but stumble back a few steps in shock! He’d been around a lot of horses, but had not seen many of this size! Much less this friendly to a clone!
“It’s ok,” Scraps grinned back at him. Pouring her grain into a bucket tied to the front of the stall, he rubbed her neck as the mare gleefully began to chow down. “This is Copper. She’s a Belgium Walking horse cross.” He motioned for Mags to approach. “She’s my horse,” he explained.
“You have your own horse?” the magnus clone exclaimed in disbelief. Hesitantly, he touched her neck as Scraps was nodding for him to do. Clones didn’t own living things! It made no sense!
Scraps motioned for him to keep stroking the copper brown mare as he opened the feed gate of the next stall. A small white and black horse that could walk under Copper stuck its head out, neighing a greeting and banging her bucket. “This is Patches. She is Dawn’s horse. She’s a spotted saddle horse.”
Mags came over to scratch the tiny mare’s neck as she ate. “Can we really own living things?” he asked the purple and green clone.
The Scrapper clone shrugged, “Don’t know if it’s legal and all. But Dawn bought her for me so that I could accompany her on her training rides.” He smirked under his face mask. “The park rangers gave her all kinds of hell for having me drive along behind her. So she found a horse big enough to handle me. You should’ve seen the looks on their faces when I showed up riding a horse the next time.” He patted his mare with a loving hand. “Nothing in their rules about a mounted clone. And since the trails are designated ‘horse riders only’ – what could they say?” His optics gleamed in devilish mirth at the memory.
The Magnus clone stroked the small mare as he pondered the story. He’d already figured out that Scraps was the kind of clone that like to test his boundaries in human society – and now it appeared that in many ways Dawn supported him.
Startling him out of his thoughts, Scraps put a brotherly arm across his shoulders. “Tell you what – I’ll give you riding lessons on Copper this week. Maybe you’ll get good enough that we can convince Dawn to buy another one for you?” He gave him a big wink, “Can’t wait to see those rangers’ faces when she shows up with two mounted clones!”
Not quite sure that he really wanted to, but realizing that he was probably already trapped into it – Mags nodded his agreement. No sooner had he finished nodding, than he was being dragged down the aisle to see if he ‘fit’ in the saddle Scraps had designed and built for himself. He soon found himself straddling a saddle sitting on top of a sturdy saddle rack – all the while the purple and green clone walked around with a tape measure studying fit and talking to himself about design modifications that would have to be made when building one for Mags.
“He’s always designing something,” a female voice joked from the door way of the tack room.
Scraps didn’t even bother to look up from his measurements, only a dismissive shrug indicated he’d heard her.
Turning his optics to the floor, Mags couldn’t help but blush. He couldn’t tell if his owner was amused or irritated with the situation.
Striding in, Dawn patted his thigh armor as they both watched Scraps. That clone was now on his knee plates, sliding Mags’ peds in and out of his custom designed stirrups, mumbling to himself about specific design changes. “So let me guess, he’s told you that you’re going to learn to ride – and that I’ll buy you a horse too?” The woman rolled her eyes, knowing the answer before she’d even asked.
“Yes, ma-am” Mags confirmed. He fought the urge to bolt from the tenseness he felt in her voice.
Poking Scraps’ helm, Dawn finally got him to stop for a moment. “Do you really want to piss off the Park rangers that bad?”
Unashamed in the least, the Purple and green clone nodded; His hidden smirk easily seen by the other two. “They wouldn’t let a disabled woman’s assistant follow her on his own wheels – they might as well eat some more humble pie,” he stated as if it was a fact of life.
Rolling her eyes, Dawn motioned for Mags to get off of the saddle. “Please don’t turn into a smart ass like him,” she pleaded with a humor filled smile.
Before Mags could reply, Scraps did for him. “Humph, Ultra Magnus clones aren’t known for challenging authority,” he snickered.
“Whereas Decepticon Commander’s clones are – hmmm?” Dawn teased back. Circling Mags’ hand with hers, she began to lead him towards the front yard. “Sometimes I even feel sorry for that Megatron alien!”
Scraps’ laughed as he followed along behind them. “You wanted a self directed clone – you got what you wanted,” he retorted.
Dawn chuckled, not phased in the least by the back talking clone. “Ok, Mr. Self directed, get yourselves cleaned up while I turn the mares out.” With that, she released Mags’ hand and marched back towards the stalls.
The Scrapper clone’s optics glinted in merriment as he nodded for Mags to trot after him as he sprinted to the driveway. He had the water on, even before the Magnus clone caught up to him. “This,” he sprayed the other clone full on with the hose, “is exactly why I’m building a shower that fits us!”
Staggering back slightly at the unexpected pressure, Mags merely nodded his agreement as he turned around and got his muddy armor soaked down.
“Doesn’t it bother you in the least to have to wash in the driveway like some processorless car?” Scraps asked as he handed the other clone the hose in order to get soaked down in turn.
The Magnus clone merely shrugged again, he’d lived with owners who never let him get cleaned up. At least here Dawn wanted them cleaned daily.
“Oh yeah, forgot you had worse owners than I.” Now thoroughly drenched, Scraps added some soap to a big bucket he kept there just for washing and began to fill it up with water. “How long has it been since you’ve had a decent wax?”
Grabbing one of the sponges and dipping it into the sudsy water, Mags sighed unhappily as he added the time up. “Four years, five months and two days,” he replied as he began soaping up his hood.
“Hmmmm, no wonder you look like a faded off white clone – instead of a bright Ultra Magnus model,” Scraps noted. Finished with his own front side, he motioned for Mags to turn around so that he could soap up his back side. “This is easier with two of us,” he admitted.
Nodding his dull blue helm in agreement, Mags waited until he’d finished. Turning, he nodded for his mentor to turn around so that he could repay him in kind.
About that time, Dawn walked by on her way to the house. Pausing at the public ‘shower scene’ she couldn’t help but pick on Scraps a bit. “Looks like you’re enjoying his attentions – more than I,” she teased.
Mortified at her connotations, Mags dropped the sponge in shock. “No ma-am, I…”
Shoving the sponge back into his hand, Scraps snorted dismissively. “She’s just teasing us!” he whispered and motioned for Mags to finish. Only this time, the Constructicon clone began to moan obnoxiously with every swirl of the soapy sponge. “You’re just jealous Dawn – admit it!” he taunted back.
He was rewarded with the roll of human eyes as the reply. The slamming of the back door was all that was heard…
“Why… Why do you keep teasing her about it?” Mags asked as he scrubbed at a thick spot of dried mud that was caught in the corner of his mentor’s scoop.
“Ah,” Scraps’ turned his head, meeting Mags’ optics, “the more I tease her – the more determined she will be to hide what she does with you. It becomes an exciting game to a woman to have a secret tryst.” He’d seen that plot in so many movies – it seemed a logical scenario. Noticing some mud caught in between Mags’ thin audio receptors and his helm, he began to gently work on it with the soapy hand towel.
Wonderful sensations rolled through Mags’ sensory grids at the repair bot’s knowledgeable touch. His chassis began to hum before he even realized it.
Scraps paused, but didn’t remove his fingers. “There is no fear of another clone’s touch, hmmm?” he mused with a gleam in his ruby optics.
Blushing slightly, the Magnus clone didn’t dare move – terrified that he’d disappoint his mentor. But the scrapper clone was correct – he had no reactionary anxiety to another clone’s touch. He frowned slightly as he contemplated this turn of events.
“Logical if you consider your past. I would hazard to guess that you’ve never been abused by another clone – have you?” the purple and green clone cocked his helm curiously as he began working on the mud again.
Their optics still locked, Mags nodded slightly. His mentor seemed to always guess correctly when it came to why he had developed the programming glitches over the years.
“And I’m betting that you about leapt out of the bed screaming last night when Dawn began to touch you, hmmm?” his optics flashed in amusement. He now worked his soapy towel along the seam between Mags’ neck servos and helm.
Chewing on his lower lip, Mags began to recite the ‘it’s none of your business’ answer again. Yet, both he and Scraps now understood that that answer merely confirmed the question. He trembled anxiously as a panic attack threatened to overtake him. What would his owner think if he preferred a clone’s touch – to hers?
“Oh, calm down,” Scraps chuckled. He found this whole situation more entertaining each day. “I’ve seen Dawn’s internet search history – she’s at least viewed some clone-on-clone porn. Doubt she’ll care.”
Was he meaning that – Mags was also supposed to one day interface with him?!? To be all of their pleasure clone?!? The Magnus clone shrank back from him for a moment, terror on his face plate.
The quick thinking Scrapper clone grabbed his arm, before he could run off. Mags fell to his knee servos, his chassis shaking terribly, a panic attack fully upon him. As the mini-Constructicon forced him to look up – his panic attack blended with a memory echo of Ultra Magnus’s………..
….’Such beautiful engineering’ Scrapper taunted him as he forced him back onto his knee plates. He ran his digit along his jaw line, forcing his damaged jaw servo to open again. ‘What a wonderful glossa,’ he complimented as he thrust his cable back down the Autobot’s throat unit. ‘Perhaps I’ll keep you cranial unit and torso in one piece – and just use the rest of you for my newest design?’ he looked down at the helpless mech, his digits curling around those thin audio receptors, trapping the Autobot’s head.. Forcing him to suck his cable’s length. ‘Yes, I think you’d like that – wouldn’t you? You seem to enjoy my cable’
Ultra Magnus tried to slam his chassis weight backwards, to break loose from this torture.. Instead, he felt rough hands grab his arm servos from behind, painfully twisting them as they were chained more tightly together. He was trapped – with no way to escape.. Then total blackness overcame him….……
“No…. No… I won’t…. Scrapper… No…” Mags’ legs crumpled under him as he fell into a sobbing heap in the driveway. His arms tied behind him, as the Scrapper clone had quickly bound him with a tie-down strap in order to keep him from hurting himself.
“Damn! Come out of it!” Scraps hollered at him as he shook him rather violently. This just caused the Ultra Magnus clone to dive further into his memory echo – now completely unaware of reality as he relived the brutality of the mech’s civil war. “Shit! I’m doing this for your own good!” the purple and green clone snarled as he ripped open an access panel on Mags’ abdomen and manually forced him to shut down.
The faded blue and red clone went completely limp underneath him. Standing up, Scraps considered the situation. With a shrug, he began to rinse the soap off of them both. Drying himself off quickly, he did the same for the unconscious clone before gently lifting him up and carrying him into the house. He could repair any clone’s chassis – but their programming glitches were beyond his capabilities…
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Sensory grids slowly came on one by one with agonizing slowness. He lay face plate down on a very soft surface. Hands worked along his back and leg armor. Many hands… The gentle action of waxing and buffing that every clone knew so well. His olfactory sensors filled with the sweet smell of warm fresh wax.
Mags cringed as he fully came back on line. He could feel a strap tied snugly around his hips, effectively pinning his arms against his sides. He knew with a brutal uncertainty that his brief time was over here already. He’d had these severe panic attacks in the past; generally they locked his meta up for days on end. The second he’d finally staggered out of meta lock – his owners would clean him up and sell him as fast as they could. In one town, he’d been pawned so many times – that they’d even put a red flag on his serial number. That was when he’d been dumped onto the auction scene.
And now it was about to happen again. He just knew it! Tears filled his optics, wetting the thick towel beneath him. But he stayed absolutely still and quiet, not wanting them to know he was online just yet.. Not wanting to endure the rejection and abandonment just yet… So he lay still – and just listened..
“So when do you think he’ll reboot?” Dawn asked as she spread another coating of blue wax over one of his faded legs.
Scraps shrugged, “Programming is not my specialty.” He paused and got another handful of wax, before continuing his work on the back of Mags’ helm. “But it has been four hours since I forced the shutdown. That usually initiates the defragmentation process – which completes a cycle in four-to-five hours.”
So the repair bot had forced a shutdown when he had processor locked? No wonder he hadn’t been out of reality for days this time. Mags would at least thank him before saying goodbye.
“So what did you find when you looked up the cloneFax on him?” Scraps asked.
Dawn sighed, “He’s been red flagged – unrepairable glitch – listed on his record.” Finished with that leg unit, she let the wax set while she started working on the other.
“Hmmmmm, no wonder he ended up where we found him,” the repair bot mused. He began spreading wax across the blue back armor now.
“Well, what do you think? Is it a dangerous glitch – or one that you can handle as we work on it?” Dawn now moved to the backs of Mags’ thighs, continuing to spread the much needed wax.
“While I wouldn’t recommend that we take him into a public situation until it’s worked out – I can easily overpower him and shut him down when he locks up here on the farm.” Scraps nodded to her as she squirted more thick wax into his outstretched hands. “He is not dangerous during these episodes – he is merely attempting to escape from something only he sees.” He paused for a moment as he started working on a new section of armor. “He called me by my mech’s name. Seemed to have gone into a memory echo that was triggered by the panic attack.”
“What if you’re not right next to him? How can you stop him then?” Dawn’s eyes were full of concern, not only for her newest fixer-upper, but for her dedicated farm manager.
“I can install a remote kill switch. I will build a wristwatch control unit for you tomorrow. That way, either of us can initiate an automatic shutdown from a distance.” The designs were already congealing in his meta as he thought of the idea.
“Is he worth it to you, to invest the time and energy to slowly straighten his glitches out?” Dawn cocked her head, waiting for his honest answer. Sure, she was physically attracted to the Ultra Magnus clone – but who’s to say she wouldn’t be as attracted to another, less screwed up one?
Scraps nodded, “He’s proven himself to be a quick learning, honest worker. I was most satisfied with his performance today.”
The silent Magnus clone beneath their hands felt his power core try to burst at his mentor clone’s words. He’d never pleased anyone or anything in his life! But here Scraps was, once again attempting to convince their owner of his worth! Deep inside, the beaten down clone swore an oath of loyalty to this Scrapper clone. No matter what his fate was – he’d forever be loyal to Scraps.
“And what about you Dawn?” Scraps purred with a knowing gleam in his optics, “Are you willing to put the time into him – to get what you eventually desire from him?”
Grabbing a pillow, Dawn pegged him right in the face mask. “Maybe he had his panic attack – because you keep pressuring him about that?!?” she accused.
Easily returning her smack with the pillow – with his own well-aimed hit back, Scraps chuckled. “Why surprise an abused clone with a hidden agenda later on? I’m just preparing him for the inevitable.”
“Argh!” She came at him with the pillow again. “You think just because you’ve watched all those chic flicks with me – that you’re now some expert on human sexuality! Well, I hate to blow you’re bubble – but you’re not!”
“Deny that you’re physically attracted to his model. I dare you,” Scraps growled playfully as he blocked her pillow attack.
“Geese!” Dawn rolled her eyes at the playful clone; she just knew there was a smirk behind that face mask of his. “Just because a woman is attracted to a guy does not mean she’s gonna sleep with him! I’ve worked with men I’ve desired for decades – and never touched a single one of them.” She triumphantly stuck her tongue out at him.
“That’s because you were married and had to keep your legal vow,” Scraps shot back with a wink. He patted the seemingly unconscious clone in front of him. Granted, he knew for a fact that Mags was already back online. No clone could hide that fact from a medic clone! So he decided to push the topic with Dawn. Perhaps it would show the depressed clone that he had truly found some permanence? “Now you’re single and have all the control over the object of your desire. He’s yours if you command it – and you know that. Are you telling me that you will still abstain?” he more accused – than asked, his optics gleaming…
She looked abruptly away from him. “I can stay in control of my own hormones,” she snorted.
“You didn’t answer my question,” his ruby optics gleamed mischievously as he backed his owner into a moral corner. “So you’re trying to convince me that you’ll be satisfied with your unanimated toys? Hmmmm,” leaning forward, he rubbed Mags’ aft armor in a sensuous manner, “When you have an animated one that you desire to use – at your disposal?”
She slapped his hand away from Mags’ aft. “I said I can stay in control of myself. And I’m not even sure I’d ever be able to be with a clone anyways.” She slapped his hand again as he threatened to tease her again using the unconscious clone between them as bait. “So why don’t you just quit pressuring Mags and ME about it – period!”
“A direct order – my lady?” Scraps challenged with humor filled optics.
“Yes, we’ll call it that,” Dawn humphed.
“So you still want to keep him – despite the fact that he will take an inordinate amount of time to straighten out.. And may never return to original specs?” Scraps cocked his helm, waiting for her reply. He was asking as much for his knowledge – as for the still-faking-unconsciousness Mags.
Scraps was right, Mags felt his engine stop as the mentor clone dared to ask that very question. Time seemed to stand still as he waited for her answer. Would she still want him despite everything? Would she fulfill her promise of a permanent home if he’d proven to be a hard worker – which he had! Gnawing on his lower lip, he tasted energon as his dentals slit open his thin rubberized lip component covering… Waiting….
Dawn glanced down at the still clone laid out on the bed, his arms tied to his sides for his own safety. Yes, he’d be a major project – but if they pulled him through – he’d been magnificent! And she’d never be able to afford a better maintained one anyways. Ultra Magnus clones rarely came on the used market. Stroking his back armor, she nodded to Scraps.
“I can’t hear you,” Scraps prodded – crossing his arms, he leaned back – forcing her to voice her answer.
“Damn-it! I nodded yes – and you saw me!” Setting a hand on Mags’ back armor, she leaned forward – trying to peg Scraps with her other. That’s when she felt the chassis shaking under her hand. Looking down in concern, she ran both of her hands along him. Muffled sobs could be heard as Mags’ cried into the towel beneath him in total relief.
“He’s been activated for at least the last ten minutes,” Scraps informed a confused Dawn. His face mask retracted, revealing a very large smirk.
“So he heard everything?” Dawn rubbed the sobbing clone’s back armor, not even noticing the dried wax.
“Pretty much,” Reaching forward, the powerful Constructicon easily lifted up the sobbing clone so that he was on his knee servos.
“Thank.. you… thank ..you..” Mags managed to stammer between his sobs of joy. He’d never felt joy before. Didn’t know how to handle it. But he was valued here… Wanted here… Timidly meeting both of their eyes he swore his loyalty to them.. To try his hardest to learn everything they taught him…
Dawn finally silenced his babbling with a kiss. “And that’s my oath to you – never to throw you away,” she stopped him from answering with a gentle finger held against his lips.
His big blue optics flashed once, as something clicked deep inside his meta processor. She had given him an oath of loyalty as well! He was now fully hers in both meta and chassis. He would try do whatever she asked – to the best of his pitiful ability..
“Now lay back down so that we can buff out this wax that has set,” Scraps ordered.
With a happy thud, the Ultra Magnus clone did as ordered. His meta processor finally able to enjoy their soft caresses as they worked to repair years of neglect on his armor – and his mind….
**You know what to do, please review!!!!***
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