Finally

Rainy afternoons

When he walked past Starscream’s quarters Skyfire was only mildly surprised to hear grumbling and muttered curses. Backtracking to knock on the door and enquire about his bondmate’s latest bone of contention, he was caught with a fist in the air as the seeker opened the door and poked his head out. Expression jumping from annoyance to alarm, Starscream recovered admirably from the proximity of Skyfire’s knuckles to his faceplate.

“Wha-?! Ah...Skyfire, I was just looking for someone to...er...give me a hand...Would you mind...?” “-Of course!” The scientist replied quickly, dropping his hand like a naughty child. Starscream grinned and pulled back into the room, Skyfire hurriedly following.

“Primus, Starscream - what did you do to your back?” He exclaimed as the seeker moved to shut the door. “It looks like half your sensor arrays are hanging out!”

“They are,” Starscream said, turning awkwardly and wincing as a stray wire sparked. “I just got back from a survey on the minor continent and a slagging lightening storm filled my wings with water.” Skyfire ignored the exaggeration - it did look like the storm hadn’t been kind. But were they ever? “Most of my internals are fine, but some of the sensor arrays are shot. The maintenance crew doesn’t know anything about my...specialised versions, and I can’t get at some of them to fix the things.” He smiled wryly up at Skyfire. “Can you give me a hand or two?”

“I am a bit big for this...” he warned, stepping over to his partner’s side.

“You’re the only one who knows enough about my modifications to do anything with them.” The smile turned sly. “You were there when I came up with most of them, after all...”

The scientist laughed. “Fair enough then, though it probably won’t be pretty.”

“Anything’s better than being half blind.” Starscream grumbled. “I’ve got used to having enough energon to run all my arrays at once, and it’s not much fun to lose practically all of them in one go.”

“Just so you know it won’t be an oil painting.” Skyfire muttered absently, picking up one of the tools scattered over a worktop as Starscream perched uncomfortably on the end.

“A what?”

Skyfire smiled. He’d been nonplussed too when he’d first heard that little humanism. “An oil painting. It’s like... Do you remember the little gallery that had started up in that artisan block before we left for Earth?”

“Yes...Betacron, wasn’t it? It didn’t look like much - the place was tiny.”

Skyfire grimaced. “I know.”

The seeker laughed. “The block, not the gallery! Though if you had to keep dragging me to galleries you could’ve picked the ones where you wouldn’t keep hitting your head.” Skyfire shook his head in mock disapproval as he picked through a tangle of wires. “That’s beside the point. Remember that Impression of the sunset in one of the side rooms? The texture of that’s like an oil painting...it’s a sort of paste the humans use for artwork.”

“So what’s that got to do with my wings?”

“I did some background research...” The seeker groaned. “Oh, stop it. Oil paintings were traditionally produced by masters of their trade and were only done for rich patrons - to begin with, anyway. So your wings won’t be attractive, but at least the sensors’ll work.” He trailed off as the snarls of wires and sensor clips became more tightly wound together. Minutes passed in companionable silence before Starscream spoke, almost to himself.

“That sounded just like one of your lessons at the Academy, you know.”

Skyfire didn’t look up. “Old habits die hard, I suppose. It beats teaching Dreadmoon astral cartography. ”

The seeker snickered. “His face was priceless. He didn’t thank me for it, though...”

“I wonder why.”

The seeker sniggered again. “It could be worse - he could have Ripplewing as a teacher.”

Skyfire groaned at the memory before returning to the task literally in hand - he’d come to a particularly vicious knot of complex, synthesised parts almost fused to one wing’s exoplating and barely missing the fuel canals; worse, it looked like they would start functioning again as soon as the root connection was fixed - and Skyfire couldn’t work out the tangle if he didn’t reconnect the lot. This array was Starscream’s tactile deck for his wings - and if this side was wrecked, logic said the other would be too.

The scientist frowned. If he plugged the array in like this, Starscream could be in serious pain until he’d fixed and tuned the entire layout through both wings - he couldn’t tell what a totally distorted sensor grid would do to a mech, but that was the most likely - and painful - scenario. Starscream’s numerous alterations and additions to his many sensor arrays had left the tactile grids arranged in an unusual, almost spiderweb fashion. No wonder maintenance couldn’t get through the tangle...

“What’s wrong?”

Skyfire started slightly, almost cutting through a chunk of wires that hadn’t come loose in the storm. Mentally chiding himself, he warned the seeker about the damage and what might happen as he fixed it - but the scientist was surprised by Starscream’s flippant reply of “I’ve had worse. I know you wouldn’t hurt me deliberately, Skyfire ...” A wicked grin flashed over his shoulder as the seeker added “...and I probably wouldn’t mind if you did, within reason -”

Skyfire snorted and shook his head, rolling his optics heavenwards. But he didn’t miss Starscream’s grip tightening ever so slightly on the edge of the table.

The scientist steadied himself, then gingerly picked up the cords of wire.

Some time later Skyfire put down his tools with a sigh of relief. He glanced at Starscream, still hunched at the edge of the table; the seeker had barely moved the entire time, hadn’t made a sound.

“Starscream?”

The jet grunted and wriggled in place, shaking his wings as if to flick off imaginary raindrops. He stretched, catlike, and hopped off the tabletop, turning to face the scientist. “Thank you, Skyfire. Let’s never, ever do that again.” “Whatever you like, dear one,” Skyfire laughed, the tension barely noticeable before draining away like the constant rain outside.

Starscream grinned up at him. “What would I do without you on rainy afternoons?” The scientist looked down into his bondmate’s impish red optics and drew the seeker close.

“Well...” He drawled, watching the sparkle in Starscream’s optics grow wicked.

“Yes?...” the seeker purred, snuggling closer.

Skyfire grinned. “You could always teach Dreadmoon astral cartography yourself.”

The End.