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Beauty Within	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 4015 -:- 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

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To Rescue a Friend

“Hey Bee, heard you needed to see us,” Z’ren asked. The teal colored femme slowly crawled up through the tight tunnel, a group of fellow dancers close behind her.

Bee nodded, his optics scanning the group of garbage mech dancers. They were all pretty and sharp-witted, both of which he needed to make his plan work. But would they agree to do something so dangerous? To possibly anger the Decepticons whom they made a lot of credits off of? But without their help, Bee thought it’d be almost impossible to rescue Cliffjumper – so he had an idea..

“So what ya need cutie?” CoLene asked. She winked at the gorgeous yellow mech even as she enjoyed his blush. All the prostitutes loved this mech, for he was always cheerful and happy, told killer stories about where he’d been – and most importantly – didn’t want the femmes for anything more than friendship. Which the femmes just ate up, since they weren’t used to that kind’ve respect from male mechs.

“Well, one of my old friends is in a fix. I was wondering if you ladies would help me get him out of it?” the yellow mech said.

Droct watched silently, still amazed at how popular his friend had become. His core lightened a little bit as he sank back against the side of the cramped tunnel. At least it wouldn’t be just him and Bee trying to pull this rescue stunt off!

“So what kind’ve fix are we talking about?” S’taq asked. The red dancer winked conspiratorially at her yellow friend. A few of the other femmes snickered, figuring it was some kind of ‘bonding’ fix; perhaps handcuffs or something similar? Maybe Bee wanted them to play one of their ‘bonding’ jokes on a mech – now that’d be fun! Granted, these ‘femmes of the night’ tended to have strange senses of humor when it came down to playing pranks on males.

“It’s easier for you all to see it, than for me to explain it,” Bee said. Motioning towards the tunnel entrance, he told them to look at the front of the Decepticon ship.

The femmes crowded past him, poking their heads out of the tunnel and focusing in on what he wanted them to see. Several exclamations of ‘damned sloggers’, ‘poor mech’, and ‘hell what can we do?’ could be heard from the group. Then they closed the tunnel cover, and crawled back down to Bee and Droct.

“Sloggers, your friend’s gotten himself into a hell of a jam – now hasn’t he?” CoLene drawled. Her core still felt heavy with disgust, but what the Decepticons had done – really didn’t surprise her. They were notorious bastards, and the dancers had had their share of trouble out of them. But they did tip well – once they were over-energized. And if a femme stayed on her toes, she wouldn’t get raped too badly when they paid her for some bonding fun.

“So what can we do? He pissed off the cons, and their going to off-line him – you know that,” S’taq added. She too was sickened, but she was pragmatic. And a mech was foolish to tangle with the cons. There were certain cons the prostitutes even tried to avoid – for they seemed to think sadism was a fun sort of bonding. They just didn’t pay enough to make THAT worthwhile to a dancer.

Z’ren gave Bee a hug, her pity for his friend in her optics. “He’s an Autobot, I saw his insignia. You worked with him, didn’t you?” she asked softly.

Bee knew there was only one way he could convince the dancers to help him – to make it a possibility of a big payoff. Barely scraping a living, these femmes would all be tempted to risk it all, if they knew there was a big financial gain to be had. “Yes, I worked with him. He’s one of Optimus Prime’s right hand mechs.” Granted, it was a little white lie. But Bee knew that HE could get the payoff outt’ve Prime.

CoLene whistled, “You’re serious? Prime’s right hand mech?!” In her meta, she could envision the reward that the Autobots were probably offering for the mech’s return.

“Wow, really?” Z’ren asked. Her optics widened as she also realized the potential funds that could be involved. And if Bee was saying he knew this mech – then he must’ve met Optimus Prime himself! “Sloggers! Have you actually met Prime, Bee?!” she asked, her optics gleaming in idolization.

“Yep, took a lot of personal courier jobs for him. Know him pretty good. In fact, I think I could get him to double the reward for you femmes.” Yes, a few more white lies mixed with truth. But Bee knew that he probably could get the Autobots to double the ‘return fee’ that they gave to these dancer femmes. His engines warmed as he could see the femmes becoming motivated to help Cliffjumper.

S’taq leaned over to him, her helm scraping the low ceiling. This caused a slight cascade of dust and refuse to come down, lightly coating her shiny red shoulders. Brushing it off without really noticing, her brilliant blue optics gleamed with her thoughts. “Few questions before we agree to help you. First – is this mech as good looking as you are? When he’s not half-dead that is. Second – does he like femmes? Third – is he single? And Fourth – just how much funds are we talking?”

Bumblebee shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t really like the idea of putting words in his friends’ mouths by any means – but he had to say what he knew the dancers wanted to hear. “Well, um, he looks pretty much the same as I do, but he’s red. As far as I know, he’s always preferred femmes.” At least Bee hoped so, the femmes would kick his aft if he was wrong. For he could see the appraising looks they were giving his own chassis as they were picturing it in red. But then, Cliffjumper probably just LOVE having a bunch of dancers after his tail pipes. So Bee didn’t think he’d be mad about it. “Last time I saw him, he was unbonded.” At least that was true… “And I think you’d each get at least a thousand credits, if not more..” Bee gulped, he’d convince Prime – he would!

The five dancers all looked at each other, their optics gleaming at the prospect of not only getting more funds than they earned over several orbit cycles – but also helping to ‘fix-up’ a rich, single mech. Perhaps one of them would indeed catch his optic and get to leave this rock of a planet? Yes, it seemed like a good ‘business proposition’ indeed.

Nodding their heads to Bee, they agreed to help.

----

“Why the hell do we get guard duty?! This sucks!” Runabout bitched. He was pacing on the rocky ground from one end of the ship to the other. Grumbling in disgust, since all the other cons were partying and causing trouble at the metropolis.

LongHaul watched his comrade, his red optics narrowing in agreement over the blasted assignment. He felt like strangling that prick Starscream, for he knew it was that slogger who’d assigned them this grunt duty. Looking up at the nose of the space ship, he snickered again as he looked at the limp Autobot strapped to it. Granted, it’d be fun to rape the pathetic Autobot to pass the time while they were guarding. But since the mech was pretty much off-lined, at least he was useful for a snicker. Vortex and Brawl had finally come up with a good idea. Their first ever!

Stomping by the Constructicon, Runabout stopped and stared up at Cliffjumper. “Figures that the little freager’ off-lined. Can’t even have a little fun while we do slag duty,” he continued to grumble. Picking up a rock, he threw it at the unconscious mech. The solid thud of it as it hit his target; brightened his foul mood slightly.

“Ya, those Autobots are pretty pathetic. Can’t even handle a little bonding,” LongHaul snickered. He’d really enjoyed the gangbang they’d done to the mech. And he couldn’t wait until they caught themselves another one. His engines revved a bit at the thought. Maybe they’d catch that slogger Ironhide? It’d be so much fun to thrust his circuits into that bastard’s aft and listen to him scream.

Lost in his thoughts, LongHaul didn’t even notice the five dancers strolling towards them. Until Runabout drew his gun and ordered them to stop. Shaking himself back to reality, LongHaul whipped his out and walked up to the group.

The femme’s looked at each other in apparent shock. Their big blue optics stared up at the Decepticons. Scanning them with his sensors, LongHaul couldn’t detect any weapons. “What is your business?” he demanded, using his most threatening of tones.

The femme’s all seemed scared, and they trembled as he lowered his weapon at them. “Um, we’re just on our way to the club. Um, for the dance competition,” a light blue femme said. Her beautiful face looking up at LongHaul, her optics shined with honesty. She gulped, apparently intimidated by the two cons.

LongHaul and Runabout looked at each other. The prostitutes were quite attractive, and hell they didn’t have anything better to do – did they? Runabout nodded to LongHaul – both of them knowing that they were thinking along the same lines. This planet did have some ‘advantages’, for there were many beautiful femmes whom were more than willing to be ‘hired’ by a mech; at least for an astrohour or so.

Putting his gun away, Runabout strolled up to one of the dancers, a mischievous smile on his face. “So you’re dancers huh? Why don’t you prove it to us?” With that, he roughly took her lips, the femme not resisting in the least. She wrapped herself around him, knowing exactly what he was expecting. The picture of a thousand credits locked in her meta; she let him carry her into the ship.

Snickering at his comrade, LongHaul put his own weapons away. Grabbing two of the good looking femmes, he strolled away from the ship. Yep, at least he’d have some fun with the whores while he pulled grunt duty. There wasn’t anything or anyone on this planet to challenge the cons – so why guard the damned ship in the first place?!

Z’ren and S’taq just looked at each other and grinned. For this had been far too easy for the ‘femmes of the night’ to con the mechs away from the ship! Bee had been so right about the Decepticon guards. They were more interested in personal gratification, than doing their duties. Such easy males for the dancers to con! Going over to the side of the cliff, the two femmes helped the two mechs up.

Bee and Droct quickly came around to the front of the ship. Letting the dancers climb on their shoulders, they stood still while Cliffjumper was cut down. The femmes slowly lowered him into the waiting arms of the males, and jumped lithely from their shoulders. Their feet didn’t make a sound as they touched the rocky ground, small plumes of dust rising into the still night air.

Walking quietly away from the ship with Cliffjumper hanging limply between them, Bee hoped that the other three femmes would get away as cleanly – before the cons realized their ‘decoration’ was now gone. But he had no doubt that those sharp-witted dancers would disappear into the night when the time was right.

After they were out of audio range, Droct transformed. The other three wrapped the unconscious mech up in a tarp and gently curled him up in Droct’s bed. Then they piled the supplies that they had gathered, on top of the tarped mech, and covered it all with another tarp. This way they could hide him while they got to a safe location.

Bumblebee transformed and let the two femmes piled his seats high with energon cubes, His shocks strained under the weight. But he knew it may be weeks before they dared to come back to the metropolis.

Finished loading everything, the two femmes transformed and followed the mechs as they all headed towards the far-off mountains.

---

“How much further Droct?” Z’ren asked. Her voice showed the strain of the long journey through the night. The bright teal of her paint was now hidden under layer upon layer of thick mountain dust.

“It’s still a ways. We can’t go to any of the active mines, they’d find us there,” Droct explained. Even though he was carrying the most weight, he didn’t seem overly strained.

“That makes sense. So how long do you think it’ll take to fix this mech up?” S’taq asked. She was concerned that the mech hadn’t reactivated at all during the high-speed trek.

Droct concentrated, he could feel the warmth of the mech’s chassis in his bed, and he had felt him try to reactivate a few times. But then the mech had just shut down again. He didn’t really know what was damaged until he looked, so he really couldn’t answer her. Though they’d brought most of the supplies that he thought they’d need to fix the mech. “I’m not sure until I really examine him, but he’s tried to reactivate a few times.”

Bee’s spark pulsed, for at least they’d rescued Cliffjumper alive! And if any mech could fix him it was Droct and T’ran. Z’ren would go fetch that femme after they made it to their hideout. While they waited for her, he and Droct would repair what they could.

The star’s rays began to chase off the night. A sinking feeling went through Bee, for if they didn’t go underground by daylight, Megatron’s Seekers would easily spot them. Staying silent, he knew that Droct fully understood this, and would get them underground soon.

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Beauty Within