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How May I Help You?	By : Ozphoenix Category: Transformers > G1 > Het - M/F Views: 3106 -:- 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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Elita was gloriously re-living the early days of her relationship with Optimus Prime.
She wanted him, he was (mostly) available, and she damn well HAD him – several times during one Cybertronian day/night cycle. The interfacing was constant, beautiful and armor-tingling. The only downside she could see was that she hadn’t been able to produce this effect without the help of her magical little implant. It made her feel twinges of inadequacy, like she wasn’t ‘good enough’ without it. It didn’t get to her too much though, she was having lots of fun.

“Chromia, could you please repeat that again?” Elita kept her head still, not daring to move it TOO much. She’d been dizzy and somewhat un-steady on her feet since the morning before last. Not daring to march to the medical centre and report her symptoms to her regular medic, she had been putting up with it and hoping it would pass. She didn’t have time right now to return to the femme medic who had helped her with the implant and discuss the situation.

“No problem,” Chromia smoothly repeated the conclusion to her report. The older femme was having no trouble seeing that the Femme Commander was doing her best not to appear distracted. Chromia could see the tiny hesitations and missing authorative mannerisms that signalled Elita was not quite herself.

The short conference ended and the gathered femme warriors exited the small meeting chamber. Elita was quick enough to see Chromia’s concerned optics looking her way and she darted out of the room before the other femme could catch her, but Elita’s tactic backfired, her quick movements brought on a much stronger dizzy attack and she found herself floundering sideways and tripping over her feet.

“Catch her~!” Chromia cried out as Elita headed for a fall. Fortunately, a mech walking past had already taken note of the situation and had caught up the ungainly femme in his arms at the same time as Chromia’s warning words sounded through the corridor.

“I thought you might have had a thing going for me once, but you don’t have to be so dramatic, Elita,” Springer looked down at the Femme Commander he was helping get to her feet. His hands were guiding her around her waist.

Elita stood uncertainly, one hand on Springer’s chest, the other hand pressed to her optics. She was wobbling on her feet. Her vision was going fuzzy.

“What..? Springer?” The deep green glinting metal of the mech holding her upright was setting off bright flashes in her optics. She couldn’t think straight. She heard someone saying something about Optimus, then felt herself carefully guided to a bench in the hallway and made to sit down.

“Elita? Whats wrong?” Chromia’s concerned face appeared in front of her.

“I think I should carry her to the med centre,” Springer murmured, tilting his head at the distressed femme, concerned about her condition.

“Don’t bother, tech’s are on the way,” interjected Firestar from behind him, lowering her wrist comlink. “Elita, how are you feeling? Optimus is coming.”

Elita One sat with her hands on her knees, staring at the floor. “I’m... fine. I’d just like to sit still for a moment,” she responded faintly. “I don’t need Optimus, really...”
She didn’t want to move. Her balance and motion gyro-stabilisers were going crazy. Her head felt like it was too hot. (This is ridiculous. And embarrassing), she thought.

“Elita?”

Not even the reassuring and blessedly familiar deep mech voice could get her to lift her head. Optimus bent over in front of her, one hand touching her shoulder. He tried to look her in the face. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

“She took a tumble in the hallway, I caught her before she fell,” Springer stood behind Optimus and crossed his arms over his ample chest, shaking his head, “she looked like she might pass out.”

Optimus tried to get more information out of his mate, but she wasn’t very forthcoming with answers. ‘I’m just a bit dizzy’ was about the extent of it.

“Techs are here,” Chromia said with relief.

“What’s going on?” yet another concerned mech voice made Elita whimper with indignity. Ultra Magnus appeared next to Optimus, two medtech’s coming up behind him. “Elita? Are you okay?” Magnus asked.

Elita frowned, still hesitant to move, keeping her gaze locked on the floor, “Does EVERYONE have to be here?” she demanded.

“Council chambers, silly, of course they do, and fainting in the corridor gets everyone’s attention,” the friendly voice of Rodimus Prime answered her. He had followed Magnus and the tech’s, curious at what was going on (and very tired and bored with the meeting he had made excuses to leave from).

“I did NOT faint,” Elita ground out in a hiss. She was getting mad at all the fuss.

She now had a concerned collection of mech’s and femme’s surrounding her. Optimus, Magnus, and Rodimus stood in front of her. Springer, Chromia and Firestar hovered to the side behind them. The two unfortunate medtech’s tried to elbow their way past the hulking males to attend to their patient.

“Fainting?” Magnus murmured, turning questioning optics to Optimus, “she’s not, um.... you know...”

“NO I AM NOT~!” Elita yelled, startling the medtech who had pushed past the other ‘bots to take her readings. “Would you all go get lost?!” she said forcefully, losing her famous cool composure, frustrated and mortified with the unwanted attention.

“Magnus, sheesh, no tact,” Springer reprimanded the City Commander.

Chromia turned her amused optics to the ceiling, barely keeping a grin off her face. She knew Optimus and Elita had in fact been interfacing like Earth bunny rabbits, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Elita was carrying a spark lifeform. It was rare, but it did happen, especially with as often as those two had been doing it.

“Everyone step back and return to your business,” Optimus commanded, recognising the situation was getting out of control. He didn’t want Elita crowded like this.

“Forget that, I’M leaving,” Elita staggered upright – and fell forwards.

“There she goes again!” Springer yelped.

This time she landed in Optimus’ arms. “Hey, I got the right mech this time,” she mumbled against his shoulder, trying to get upright.

“Back to work,” Ultra Magnus backed up Optimus’ order, shooing off all the onlookers with his menacing height. The femmes and mechs reluctantly backed off.

Optimus picked up Elita into his arms, “You’re not going ANYWHERE except medbay.” He turned set off down the corridor, the medtech’s following him for support. “And we need to talk about whats REALLY been going on,” Optimus added, for her hearing only.

Elita frowned, (Damn it, here we go), “Oh no we don’t,” she grumbled, cradled against his chest. She had no doubt he was referring to her other strange behaviour as well. What she wanted to do was get herself to the neutral femme medic and sort things out. But since she couldn’t walk, and she wouldn’t let Optimus carry her in THAT direction.... oh well.

“Don’t worry,” Optimus’ sharp blue optics stared down at her with love, “we’ll get this sorted out.”

(Like slag we will!) Elita groaned inwardly. What was she going to say??

***
Chapter 4 will be up soon. I hope. I'll try! :-)
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