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Exciting Catch	By : GabrielC Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 3279 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers and make no profit from writing this.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
A/N: Continuing the PxLDxOS saga for Inamorato - Cybertronian nights.

Hunt - Part 1

Ship Yards

Lockdown gazed up at the battered ship resting silently in front of him. He grinned to himself; it wouldn’t be long now until she was back in the air again. Her controls at his fingertips. He wished their reunion was under better circumstances but he’d pulled out all of the stops to get her repaired as quickly as possible. He knew that the Autobot council, with all their grand meanderings weren’t going to decide in his, in Prowl’s favour. Time wasn’t a luxury he had, as a bounty hunter Lockdown knew you only had a certain amount of time before your prey took to the hills and he wasn’t about to let that snake drag Prowl with him.

He growled his hand balling into a tight fist as he waited for the engineer. In an ironic twist, it was to an Autobot he had to turn, but this Autobot came recommended as the best at what he did. He was also a little odd, Lockdown noted as the rather exuberant mech gave his ship the once over. He resisted asking constantly what the random ‘umms’ and ‘aaahhs’ had been about. If anyone could get her airborne again; then this was the mech that all sources had said could get it done.

“Are ya done yet? Gettin’ old over here.”

The mech quirked an orbital ridge at him and his optics narrowed in a wide smile. The fins on the side of his helm flashed a bright blue when he chuckled and he simply carried on about his business, much to Lockdown’s chagrin.

He paced impatiently in the workshop, unable to watch the mech paw over his ship any longer. It was taking too long and he was getting irritable. This was also marred by his deepening ache of worry and fear of the likes he’d never felt before. It was eating at his very spark, making it difficult to think straight. “Just hang on Prowl… I’m gonna find ya…” He shuttered his optics in an attempt to focus his troubled thoughts. The ninja was constantly there whenever he tried to recharge, not that he’d been doing that much since he heard the news. He stood by his silent vow; Oilslick was going to pay.

No matter the outcome, one thing was certain; Oilslick was a dead mech.

****
Iacon – Council Chambers

Optimus sat rigid in his seat, not trusting himself to act in any way civilised. It had taken almost two solar cycles to travel back home from Earth. The first solar cycle being due to the fact he was in near stasis, it was only thanks to Ratchet’s unwavering determination that kept him from slipping that little bit further. The second day, Optimus didn’t take no for an answer when he told Ratchet he was returning to Cybertron.

The gruff medic had surprisingly relented, on the proviso that he tag along. Prowl was his friend too and he was going to be damned to the pit if he entrusted his friend’s spark to the absent-minded council.

It was at the council they both now sat. Jazz was pacing. He was more on edge than Optimus had ever seen him and couldn’t help feel a pang of something at Jazz’s concern. He’d always wondered if there had been something more between him and Prowl, that none of them knew about. Prowl, considering he was one of his closest friends was almost a complete mystery to him. It was only since his resurrection that Optimus had been building up the courage to get closer to the elusive, reserved ninjabot.

Second chances rarely came around and should be grabbed with both hands and held onto tightly when they do. Optimus felt his spark sink at the thought. If second chances were so few and far between, what were the chances of a third?

“The council will see you now.”

The stern voice shook him to his feet and he gave a curt, confident nod to Jazz and Ratchet who loyally followed him into the chamber to face Sentinel Magnus.

The three mechs stood before the council, all eyeing them with curious, questioning gazes. Sentinel was the one who spoke first. For once without his usual snark.

“We’ve reached a majority decision with regards to your request for a rescue mission.”

Optimus waited with stalled intakes.

“The majority vote was against the proposal, stating we simply do not have the resources to rescue one ‘bot from what can only be considered a personal matter.” To his credit, Sentinel avoided the angry optics of the mechs standing in front of him. He knew the vote hadn’t been fair, even he knew Prowl deserved more, as much as he wasn’t fond of the mech.

“I might’ve guessed ya’d do this!” Jazz retorted angrily. “Ya can’t ever stand it can ya? Someone bein’ more valuable than ya!” He snarled and tore his arm out of Optimus’s calming grip, holding him back. “Ya disgust me the lot o’ ya!” The white ninja was gone from the room before anyone could stop him.

Ratchet went after him, in the hope of calming the mech down while they came up with another plan. Leaving Optimus facing the council. He glared at each and every one of them in turn and came to a standstill when he reached Sentinel.

“I honestly expected, hoped that you’d at least be on our side for this… just this once.” His words were clipped, filled with his rage and pain. Memories of another they’d both left behind rising painfully to the surface. Optimus had stopped Sentinel from going in after Elita and now the tables were turned, Sentinel was finally getting even.

He raised his voice so the whole chamber could hear him. “Prowl died fighting Megatron, saving Earth, he almost died not long ago.” He lowered his voice, in an attempt to get the tremor under control. “Saving Cybertron. That mech is a hero twice over and you sit here in your ivory tower and turn your back on him!” He held Sentinel’s optics with venom he rarely ever showed. “I honestly expected more from you.”

Sentinel’s optics widened, he knew exactly where Optimus’s words were solely directed. He knew Optimus had expected nothing from the council. He’d lain his hopes on him and he had failed. He bowed his head, not wanting to reveal his utter shame that filled him at Optimus’s words. It didn’t matter that he’d been one of three mechs to vote for the rescue. He was only acting Magnus and the majority had overruled him.

Even heroes were forgotten in the wake of politics.

****

“Calm down, we’ll think of something.”

Optimus could hear Ratchet trying to placate the irate ninja but Jazz was having none of it. The white mech looked about ready to kill someone. This wasn’t a Jazz he was used to seeing.

“Like slag we will Doc! What are we suppose t’ do? Steal a ship?!” He stopped for a moment a strange look crossing his face.

“No… don’t even think it.” Ratchet warned.

Optimus jumped in. “They’d throw you in the stockade Jazz, before you even got close.” He shook his head. “We need to find someone who has a ship and is willing to help.”

Jazz slumped into a nearby seat, his head in his hands and vented an exasperated sigh. Ratchet looked at him with sadness in his optics.

“We don’t know anyone…”

Silence filled the room at Ratchet’s honest statement. It was fact, they didn’t know anyone who had a ship and was willing to help. There was no doubt that Prowl was no longer planet bound. They needed a ship just to start somewhere.

“Yeah we do.” Jazz stood up suddenly his face a picture of revelation.

“Who?” Ratchet frowned.

“Lockdown.”

“No way… No fraggin’ way!!” The medic swore, it now his turn to pace. He hadn’t seen that bounty hunter since that time at Inamorato. A moment he did not want to remember.

Jazz glared at Optimus with earnest determination. “His spark is hot for Prowl, ya know it. I know it and he has a ship. If we’re lucky we can catch him before he leaves t’ rescue Prowl without us.”

As much as it pained him to admit it, Optimus knew Jazz was right. The hunter clearly had feelings for Prowl and had so far been his only obstacle in getting close to the black and gold mech. Right now, it seemed the gruff, dangerous mech was their only choice.

He nodded once. “Alright how do we contact him?”

“Already on it OP.” Jazz was activating his comm as he spoke.

//Arcee, nah I’m ‘fraid not….I know, I know. Look I need LD’s comm frequency.// He paused listening to the femme on the other side of the comm. //I got it, yeah…. He is… I will. Thanks Arcee.//

He smirked at Optimus some of his old self returning, if only for a brief moment. He glanced across at Ratchet. “Arcee said t’ tell ya, t’ take care of yerself. And not t’ go huntin’ no hunters until the job’s done.”

Optimus smirked at that, having heard of the incident through Jazz himself.

They waited patiently while the white mech disappeared to make another comm call to the bounty hunter. He returned shortly after with a grim expression. “He’ll work with us, but we’re followin’ his lead on this OP, he is the hunter after all. And he knows ‘Slick the best outta all of us.”

“That’s fine. Where will he meet us?”

“He won’t we’ll find him at the ship yards in Iacon. If we’re not there in the next cycle, he leaves without us.”

Ratchet inwardly groused about having to work with the unscrupulous mech. He didn’t trust him and he certainly didn’t approve of his advances towards Prowl. Biting back his pride, he made the decision for them.

“What the slag are we waiting around here for then? Come on! I know this city like the back of my hand with my optics offline. I’ll take us a shorter route.”

Jazz grinned and gave Ratchet a friendly slap on the back. “My mech, yer singin’ sweet music t’ my audio. Lead the way maestro.”

****

The Death’s Head was humming beautifully once more. Her consoles once again warm and alight to the touch. Just a few more minor adjustments.

Lockdown was feeling much better about his choice of engineer. Wheeljack had proven to be nothing short of a genius. Although he’d caught the mech staring at his feet once or twice with a strange look in his optics. That was enough to make Lockdown want off the planet already. He was fidgeting and ready to kick the engineer off his ship and lift off.

His comm buzzed startling him back into reality. //Who th’ spark’s this? How’d ya get this frequency?//

He frowned and sat in his captain’s chair. //Oh it’s you. I see… well it’s gonna’ cost ya I aint no taxi service.// He paused and flinched at the obvious tirade of abuse he was receiving from the other end of the comm. //Alright, hold ya horses kid. Ya got a deal, be here in a cycle. I’m not waitin’, Prowl’s life depends on the time we got now. So get yer afts shiftin’. Oh and one more thing.// He paused his optics narrowing as he worked out the dynamics of such an undertaking.

//Ya follow my rules, my instructions or ya can get out n’ walk that clear?// He nodded as he heard the affirmative and he cut the comm without any pleasantries.

“Well darlin’” He spoke aloud, his fingers trailing along the smooth console. “There goes the neighbourhood.”

****
Undisclosed Location – Somewhere on the edge

Dim light casts a dull glow over the dingy cot. The room dank and dreary. The light exudes from a single low powered, flickering bulb.

A lone hand grips the dirty padding of the cot tightly and the sounds of retching fill the room, drowning out the silence.

The 'bot empties his tanks onto the already filthy floor. His frame trembling with exertion. Tightening his grip on the small berth he hauls himself onto the thin padding, falling onto his side, low shaky keens escaping his vocaliser.

****
Death’s Head – In flight

Lockdown was pissed, he couldn’t exactly put his finger on why, but he was not happy. He could possibly have put it down to Jazz’s incessant pacing, the ninjabot was unusually impatient and wound up. Optimus’s simpering certainly wasn’t winning him any brownie points either.

“What the frag is wrong with this blasted ship. What did you put her together with duct tape?!”

Lockdown glowered and shrank down in his captain’s chair with a low growl. That was it. The gruff old medic, Ratchet. The initial meeting had been awkward to say the least and despite being cooped up on the Death’s Head, they had managed to keep a wide berth of each other.

The griping however had gotten louder and it was beginning to wear thin on Lockdown’s last remaining nerve. The rest having already been frittered away in worry for Prowl, not that he would ever admit that of course.

He didn’t want to think about what was potentially happening to the absent ninjabot. He comforted himself in the knowledge that Oilslick wanted him alive, although the mech had never really specified in what kind of state. Lockdown had an uneasy feeling that Oilslick didn’t care how Prowl broke, as long as he stayed broken and that thought alone gave him chills.

“What in the slag happened to the central circuit board? Are you trying to blow us up?!” The grating vocals of the ever constantly irate medic finally burst into Lockdown’s cortex like a thousand fiery needles. He was up out of his seat and pinning the medic to the bulkhead by his throat, before his processor had had chance to register what was happening.

“Do ya think I care what ya think? Do ya think I give a fuck, what ya problem is?!” His voice raised with the intensity of his words as he leaned into the stunned red and white ‘bot.

“Yer on my ship now doc… and we’re here to find Prowl so if ya don’t sit down and shut ya trap, I’m gonna throw ya outta my airlock and blast ya ageing chassis t’ the nearest fucking star and watch ya burn!”

Ratchet fell silent under the sheer emotional intensity of Lockdown’s words. He’d seen that look in the optics of mechs before, to know well enough not to push the bounty hunter. Lockdown was scared, terrified for someone other than himself and the old medic couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt at his insensitive attitude. He’d known Lockdown had a soft spot for Prowl and while he would never approve, he could see right now, red optics just inches from his face, just how deep that soft spot bled into Lockdown’s spark

“Whoa…LD… chill mech alright.” Jazz was by Lockdown’s side as soon as he’d entered the bridge and caught sight of the spectacle. “We’re all on the same team here ya dig?” He placed a hand on the forearm of Lockdown’s arm still gripping Ratchet’s throat. It was a soothing gesture, coupled with an unspoken warning. The ninja was more than capable of dealing with Lockdown if he had to. He met red optics with an intense blue visor. “I’m worried too, we can’t take it out on each other, I know ya may not like the mech but we need every man on the job for this.” He shot a glare to Ratchet and relaxed a little as Lockdown released him with a snarl.

“So let’s just be cool.”

Lockdown clenched his good hand and counted backwards silently from ten. “Just keep ya fraggin’ hands and opinions o’ my ship t’ yer fraggin’ self. Or ya can get out n’ walk!”

He stormed from the bridge, heading swiftly to his private quarters. The whole situation had him thoroughly burnt out. A never ending torrent of emotions, a rollercoaster ride for his spark. He sat heavily on his berth and rubbed his face with a loud exvent of hot air.

“Primus Prowl… if only ya knew what ya do t’me.” His optics flickered and dimmed as he sat for a moment. His intakes were shaky as he tried to regain some modicum of control over his fraying psyche. He grabbed a can of coolant and rocked back and rested his weary helm against the cool bulkhead, optics staring out of the nearby port, while he gulped the unpleasant sludge.

They weren’t on Cybertron anymore, they were heading to the colonies located on the edge. That would be where someone like Oilslick could hide. He would disappear among the rest of the bottom feeders that were most likely his central customer base.

A frown creased Lockdown’s tattooed white face as he gazed out at the streaks of light zipping past his window. It was difficult to picture Prowl, the prim and proper and ever so seemingly repressed ninja bot, with the likes of Oilslick. The bounty hunter had a hard time dealing with what kind of life a pretty chassis like Prowl would have led in that sort of environment. A growl escaped his vocaliser and the can crumpled like so much paper in his fist. He was not going to let Prowl get sucked back into that dark and hopeless existence. The ‘bot was more than that, he’d picked himself up and got himself out and away from the slimy claws of Oilslick and Lockdown was going to be damned to the pit if he allowed that to be snatched away from the ninja.

“Ya better stay alive Prowl, ya hear me? Don’t let him have yer spark, hang on kid…. I’m comin’ fer ya.”

The alert klaxon rang out and Lockdown shot up and out of his room. The crushed can was discarded on the floor, joining so many others, all littering the room with the hunter’s drowned sorrows.

****
Somewhere on the edge

Wrists strain against tight restraints. Ankles strapped to the berth in the same fashion. The ‘bot writhed and moaned on the thin padding. His stained chassis arching off the small berth with a painful cry.

His fists are balled and they shake violently as something crawls its way through his systems.

Poison, another new concoction, a potent stimulant.

He is strapped down for his own safety, so his captor has said. He is the test subject, it’s a crude method but it works. Red optics narrow at the ‘bot’s reactions and the corner of his mouth curls upwards in satisfaction.

The constant din of the nearby laboratory is not enough to smother the lithe mech’s cries and pleas. His frame is suddenly racked with convulsions, joints lock and he strains against the straps holding him down with a high keen.

“Frag.” The red optics widen and the watcher shouts a number of commands back into the brightly lit lab. “I told you to tone down the active. Give me the counter agent, frag it! Quick before the fragger goes into stasis!”

He moves beside the berth and injects another dark liquid into the slender neck. The struggling mech whimpers as he regains control of his body. His piercing gaze locking with amused red optics.

“Please… no more…”

“If only you’d accepted my offer.” His hand strokes the dark helm. “Things could have been so very different.” He stands and makes to leave the tied down ‘bot where he is. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you dear Prowl. You’ll never dare leave me again.”

“Don’t leave me here, please! PLEASE!! Not like this!”

The room falls dim once more and locks sheer across the heavy metal door. Blue optics glow dimly in the shady room, before they go dark entirely followed by a soft whimper.

“Not like this…”
- 7
- 8
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Exciting Catch