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ayngelcatTitle: You Have To Be Kidding!
Universe: G1
Rating: PG13
Characters: Elita One, Shockwave
Warnings: None. No smut, only drama. Wannabe smut, but alas poor Shockwave.
Prompt: #1 Just walking away
Notes: More from While You were Gone femme antics whilst OP and the others were inside the volcano for 4 million years. At this stage Elita insisted to herself that Prime would come back.
Not betad, written quickly (well - its speedwriting !!) probably few things need fixing up.
You Have To Be Kidding!
Elita One looked with interest at The Decepticon second in charge, the ‘custodian’ of Cybertron, as he had named himself. She found herself, interestingly, unable to muster the usual dislike. For a ‘change’ seemed to have come over Shockwave. Gone was the usual arrogance, the cruel contempt. Instead, she watched with curiosity as as he puttered by the computer, fumbling with a datapad. He seemed uncertain – nervous even.
And - Elita realized to her amazement - he was extraordinarily clean; in fact, he radiated meticulous ablutions. His chest jutted out, the front panels gleaming white whilst the rest of him was finished to a high purple shine. There was not a trace of rust anywhere; and - Elita’s olfactory sensors twitched - was that afterwash she could smell? A rather expensive brand, at that!
The femme was incredulous. Where the heck had he gotten afterwash in these times? And more to the point, why in the Universe was he wearing it? Megatron, she knew, had been partial to such adornments - well - when she was around, anyway. But Shockwave?
The big mech was still dithering by the computer, his optic glancing here and there, seemingly trying to work out how to begin. Eventually, he put down the datapad, but then he just stared at the screen, twisting his hands together, anxiously.
Elita frowned. More than a little suspicion was creeping in. This was Shockwave, after all! Time to take control. A quick check detected the energy signatures of her team, told her that Chromia and Moonracer were still where she’d stationed them, just outside the door. Good. Now to get to the bottom of this most irregular behaviour.
The femme leader cleared her throat. “I understand you have a proposal for me, Shockwave?”
The optic flared, once; and then as the mech turned in her direction, a most ‘unhappy‘ look came into it. “Yes, I - er - yes .... indeed ....” Shockwave stammered.
A particularly potent wave of afterwash floated in Elita’s direction. She frowned. ”Shockwave?”
He turned away, then, clenching his fists. It seemed to Elita that he struggled internally, with something rather more difficult than the usual run of the mill business of managing Decepticon headquarters. And then he turned back, his optic blazing bright crimson.
“Join with me!” he declared. “Let us put an end to 'Autobot' and 'Decepticon!' Let us mark a new era of - only Cybertronian ....” he paused, and she could hear his intakes rasping erratically. “You and I. Together!”
At first, Elita was too stunned to reply. Shockwave was seriously proposing a truce? Not just a truce, but an end to hostilities? She wondered whether he was underenergised. Deluded, maybe? Perhaps supplies had, in fact, reached a more critical low than the Decepticon had made out.
But the optic burned - and now Elita imagined she saw a ‘look’ in it. A look which could only mean ... Oh no, surely not ....
Now, Shockwave was coming towards her. “There will be no fighting, only rebuilding!” he insisted, his voice thick with urgent earnestness. “Please Elita! Allow me to – take care of you! Let us move together into a new future for Cybertron!”
For a microsecond, Elita had to resist the temptation to laugh out loud. She nearly transmitted the conversation to her femmes outside : Hey, you’re never gonna believe this – guess who has the hots? But no – she must remain professional. However ridiculous this was.
“Shockwave - we can’t forget the war, just like that!” she said, matter of factly. “I hardly need taking care of, and there’s only one mech I want to move into the future with. I think you know who that is. And it's - uh - it's not you!"
But Shockwave was in front of her, his whole being bristling with intensity. The scent of weapons oil and afterwash rose all around as he reached out and clutched her hand. “He’s not coming back, Elita!” he rasped. “Face it. You and I both know that we will never see either Megatron or Prime again!”
Now, bitter cold and pain rushed from where his hand touched hers, spearing straight into Elita's spark. She snatched her hand away, any amusement there may have been vanishing instantly. The femme's optics glittered dangerously. “Don’t say that!” she growled. “Don’t you ever say that!”
But Shockwave was not giving up. The pained look came into the optic. “Please – give me a chance! I implore you!” he cried, catching hold of her again and hanging on this time. “Elita! I don’t only ask this for pragmatic reasons. I ask .... because its you!”
His clasp was surprisingly tender. And, as he gazed at her, his energy field let off a flare, wanting and full of devotion. For just a split second Elita wavered. It had been a long time since she had known or allowed herself any ‘desire’ from another.
And then, the full horror of having Shockwave fancy her careened into Elita, just as her spark twisted with the absence of Optimus Prime. This sycophant, this one who had part caused the war, ruining Cybertron and destroying anyone in his path! He was the epitome of everything Optimus was not. And she hated him!
She pulled back violently, her optics narrowing. “Are you out of your processor?” She hissed. “I’m Optimus Prime’s bondmate. He’s coming back and when he does I’m going to have kept Cybertron intact! And if he finds out you’ve been ‘propositioning me’ like this – he’ll tear you apart!”
Shockwave winced, looking almost as though he might crumple. That shadow crossed Elita's spark again. It did not do to be uncontrolled, or to behave as they did, But she chastised herself. Foolish! This could still be a trap! Alpha Trion would be apalled!
But the Decepticon only looked even more pained. He dropped to one knee. “Please Elita! I implore you!” he begged.
It didn't seem like a trap. But the pain of Prime’s absence bit in savagely, and Elita felt only bitterness. “As if you could even begin to think you could replace him!” she snarled.“ At least Megatron wouldn’t have …” But Elita stopped, not quite sure what Megatron would or wouldn't have done.
Shockwave was still on the ground. Looking at the floor, he sadly shook his head. “Megatron would not have been so - foreward. Forgive me!” he whimpered.
Elita composed herself. The most important thing was that they were still Autobots and Decpticons; that she was still Autobot leader, and when Optimus came back - as he would - she would have bravely held the fort, a fact of which he would overflow with gratitude before he took control once more, a king restored to his rightful throne.
“This doesn’t become you, Shockwave!” she said, firmly. “For now, I am going to just walk away, and I am going to forget this conversation ever took place. But I suggest you pull yourself together! It’s like we agreed. You have Iacon central; we have the western suburbs. Let’s keep it that way, and not have this .... this ....”
But he looked up at her then. Standing up, he gave her a single baleful glance and went miserably back to the computer. “You’re right,” he said. “It was foolish of me!”
For a microsecond Elita wavered again. It was as though a tiny portal to somewhere unknown opened, just for an instant, and the destination at the end could be vaguely glimpsed and was not entirely unlikeable.
But Elita did not even want to contemplate such possibilities! Without looking at him again, she turned and exited through the door, which hissed open.
She did not speak to either of her colleagues. But at a jerk of her head, Moonracer and Chromia looked at each other and raised optic ridges. Then they followed their leader quietly away down the corridor.
Universe: G1
Rating: PG13
Characters: Elita One, Shockwave
Warnings: None. No smut, only drama. Wannabe smut, but alas poor Shockwave.
Prompt: #1 Just walking away
Notes: More from While You were Gone femme antics whilst OP and the others were inside the volcano for 4 million years. At this stage Elita insisted to herself that Prime would come back.
Not betad, written quickly (well - its speedwriting !!) probably few things need fixing up.
You Have To Be Kidding!
Elita One looked with interest at The Decepticon second in charge, the ‘custodian’ of Cybertron, as he had named himself. She found herself, interestingly, unable to muster the usual dislike. For a ‘change’ seemed to have come over Shockwave. Gone was the usual arrogance, the cruel contempt. Instead, she watched with curiosity as as he puttered by the computer, fumbling with a datapad. He seemed uncertain – nervous even.
And - Elita realized to her amazement - he was extraordinarily clean; in fact, he radiated meticulous ablutions. His chest jutted out, the front panels gleaming white whilst the rest of him was finished to a high purple shine. There was not a trace of rust anywhere; and - Elita’s olfactory sensors twitched - was that afterwash she could smell? A rather expensive brand, at that!
The femme was incredulous. Where the heck had he gotten afterwash in these times? And more to the point, why in the Universe was he wearing it? Megatron, she knew, had been partial to such adornments - well - when she was around, anyway. But Shockwave?
The big mech was still dithering by the computer, his optic glancing here and there, seemingly trying to work out how to begin. Eventually, he put down the datapad, but then he just stared at the screen, twisting his hands together, anxiously.
Elita frowned. More than a little suspicion was creeping in. This was Shockwave, after all! Time to take control. A quick check detected the energy signatures of her team, told her that Chromia and Moonracer were still where she’d stationed them, just outside the door. Good. Now to get to the bottom of this most irregular behaviour.
The femme leader cleared her throat. “I understand you have a proposal for me, Shockwave?”
The optic flared, once; and then as the mech turned in her direction, a most ‘unhappy‘ look came into it. “Yes, I - er - yes .... indeed ....” Shockwave stammered.
A particularly potent wave of afterwash floated in Elita’s direction. She frowned. ”Shockwave?”
He turned away, then, clenching his fists. It seemed to Elita that he struggled internally, with something rather more difficult than the usual run of the mill business of managing Decepticon headquarters. And then he turned back, his optic blazing bright crimson.
“Join with me!” he declared. “Let us put an end to 'Autobot' and 'Decepticon!' Let us mark a new era of - only Cybertronian ....” he paused, and she could hear his intakes rasping erratically. “You and I. Together!”
At first, Elita was too stunned to reply. Shockwave was seriously proposing a truce? Not just a truce, but an end to hostilities? She wondered whether he was underenergised. Deluded, maybe? Perhaps supplies had, in fact, reached a more critical low than the Decepticon had made out.
But the optic burned - and now Elita imagined she saw a ‘look’ in it. A look which could only mean ... Oh no, surely not ....
Now, Shockwave was coming towards her. “There will be no fighting, only rebuilding!” he insisted, his voice thick with urgent earnestness. “Please Elita! Allow me to – take care of you! Let us move together into a new future for Cybertron!”
For a microsecond, Elita had to resist the temptation to laugh out loud. She nearly transmitted the conversation to her femmes outside : Hey, you’re never gonna believe this – guess who has the hots? But no – she must remain professional. However ridiculous this was.
“Shockwave - we can’t forget the war, just like that!” she said, matter of factly. “I hardly need taking care of, and there’s only one mech I want to move into the future with. I think you know who that is. And it's - uh - it's not you!"
But Shockwave was in front of her, his whole being bristling with intensity. The scent of weapons oil and afterwash rose all around as he reached out and clutched her hand. “He’s not coming back, Elita!” he rasped. “Face it. You and I both know that we will never see either Megatron or Prime again!”
Now, bitter cold and pain rushed from where his hand touched hers, spearing straight into Elita's spark. She snatched her hand away, any amusement there may have been vanishing instantly. The femme's optics glittered dangerously. “Don’t say that!” she growled. “Don’t you ever say that!”
But Shockwave was not giving up. The pained look came into the optic. “Please – give me a chance! I implore you!” he cried, catching hold of her again and hanging on this time. “Elita! I don’t only ask this for pragmatic reasons. I ask .... because its you!”
His clasp was surprisingly tender. And, as he gazed at her, his energy field let off a flare, wanting and full of devotion. For just a split second Elita wavered. It had been a long time since she had known or allowed herself any ‘desire’ from another.
And then, the full horror of having Shockwave fancy her careened into Elita, just as her spark twisted with the absence of Optimus Prime. This sycophant, this one who had part caused the war, ruining Cybertron and destroying anyone in his path! He was the epitome of everything Optimus was not. And she hated him!
She pulled back violently, her optics narrowing. “Are you out of your processor?” She hissed. “I’m Optimus Prime’s bondmate. He’s coming back and when he does I’m going to have kept Cybertron intact! And if he finds out you’ve been ‘propositioning me’ like this – he’ll tear you apart!”
Shockwave winced, looking almost as though he might crumple. That shadow crossed Elita's spark again. It did not do to be uncontrolled, or to behave as they did, But she chastised herself. Foolish! This could still be a trap! Alpha Trion would be apalled!
But the Decepticon only looked even more pained. He dropped to one knee. “Please Elita! I implore you!” he begged.
It didn't seem like a trap. But the pain of Prime’s absence bit in savagely, and Elita felt only bitterness. “As if you could even begin to think you could replace him!” she snarled.“ At least Megatron wouldn’t have …” But Elita stopped, not quite sure what Megatron would or wouldn't have done.
Shockwave was still on the ground. Looking at the floor, he sadly shook his head. “Megatron would not have been so - foreward. Forgive me!” he whimpered.
Elita composed herself. The most important thing was that they were still Autobots and Decpticons; that she was still Autobot leader, and when Optimus came back - as he would - she would have bravely held the fort, a fact of which he would overflow with gratitude before he took control once more, a king restored to his rightful throne.
“This doesn’t become you, Shockwave!” she said, firmly. “For now, I am going to just walk away, and I am going to forget this conversation ever took place. But I suggest you pull yourself together! It’s like we agreed. You have Iacon central; we have the western suburbs. Let’s keep it that way, and not have this .... this ....”
But he looked up at her then. Standing up, he gave her a single baleful glance and went miserably back to the computer. “You’re right,” he said. “It was foolish of me!”
For a microsecond Elita wavered again. It was as though a tiny portal to somewhere unknown opened, just for an instant, and the destination at the end could be vaguely glimpsed and was not entirely unlikeable.
But Elita did not even want to contemplate such possibilities! Without looking at him again, she turned and exited through the door, which hissed open.
She did not speak to either of her colleagues. But at a jerk of her head, Moonracer and Chromia looked at each other and raised optic ridges. Then they followed their leader quietly away down the corridor.
