Ficlets

[yami_samuraiflo]

Short fics I wrote a while ago, inspired by the Murphy's Laws website and tf_bunny_farm
Enjoy!

1. Murphy’s Law of love: Never Say No.

One fundamental law in falling in love is to never say ‘no’ to the one you’re in love with. Because you just know it’s going to be trouble.

 

At first, there was what the humans referred to as the ‘puppy look’, with quivering lips. He had managed to hold his position by quickly reading the reports Red Alert had given him.

 

Then, he tried the ‘glare’, and he had shivered. Oh, he disliked that look, and he really wanted to erase that from the face of his love; but once again, he managed to escape, this time by giving chase to the twins after they had booby trapped his office door.

 

And finally, there was the worst. He had been more or less ‘sentenced to the couch’, his lover having changed the password which granted access to their shared quarters and locked them up.

 

And he was now looking at him with a neutral face, arm crossed over his chest, waiting for his answer.

 

Had he a choice anymore? Not really.

 

Sighing, Prowl looked at Jazz.

 

“Yes, I will take a few days off next week so we can go together to that concert. Happy now?”

“More than you can imagine,” answered his lover before kissing him.

2. Bunny: “If anybody asks, don’t answer.”

 

Hook and Scrapper stared at their fellow Constructicons with incredulity. Slowly, the surgeon pinched the bridge of his nose, while Scrapper rested his head in one hand.

 

They just knew this was going to be a disaster. Why did they choose to listen to Megatron instead of their instincts? Ah, yes; their leader was unhappy and Starscream wasn’t around to take the fusion cannon shot that would probably come around in no time.

 

And their gestalt brothers had said they would be fine. Right.

 

Bonecrusher snorted. Long Haul shrugged. Scavenger looked sheepish. Mixmaster wasn’t even listening, lost in a daze and muttering about pretty shiny liquids.

 

“Five joors. Five slagging joors since we left you alone. The room was in a perfect state. And now... How could that happen in so short a time?” asked Hook.

 

Scavenger tried to smile weakly.

 

“Well, you see, it’s quite funny. You see, Long Haul tripped on Bonecrusher’s foot, because he was carrying too much and he wasn’t watching the ground, then he pushed me and well, I couldn’t grab anything fast enough to stop my fall, so I tripped on Mixmaster while he was adding something in his new experiment and well, perhaps he added a bit more than he wanted, because the flask fell into the mix and well, there was that smoke and it dyed everything it came across...”

“Nevermind,” sighed Scrapper. “I’m sorry we asked. The four of you, hit the washracks, and try to not be seen by someone else. Now.”

“As to why the Medbay is now neon pink and will probably stay that way for a while... If nobody asks, don’t answer,” added Hook while reaching for a cube of high-grade he kept in subspace for days like these.

 

It was going to be a long, long day...

3. Bunnies: ‘Smokescreen/Perceptor’ and ‘Perceptor’s upset with his lover for losing him in a bet.’

 

Smokescreen tried to calm himself. The other wasn’t heavily armed. He wasn’t going to kill him, or at least not now, in front of Red Alert’s cameras. For once in his life, he was happy the paranoid Security Director had installed so many of them.

 

Sighing, he looked at his lover with a tense smile.

 

“I take you’re upset I lost you in this bet?”

 

Perceptor looked at him with wide and almost innocent optics. One could have given him Primus’ blessing without question, but Smokescreen knew better.

 

“What may have given you that idea?” the scientist quietly asked.

 

Smokescreen shrugged.

 

“Well, I don’t know. Perhaps it was the fact you didn’t say more than three words to me these last two days. Or perhaps it was finding myself glued to my seat in the Rec. Room by a chemical you could access anytime you wanted. Then again, finding all my belongings on the floor outside our quarters yesterday was a dead give away.”

“I’m sure it was,” nodded the microscope, smiling in a predatory way. “So, now we have managed to corner each other, care to explain why you choose to bet me?”

 

His tone indicated it had better be a very good reason, or Smokescreen was a dead mech.

 

“Well, perhaps I had a tad bit too much to drink; but I was sure I was going to win, so when he said he was going to bet Bluestreak...”

“... You decided to get even by betting your own lover?”

“... Yes. Sorry. If it gives you any comfort, I think he cheated...”

“I don’t care. Now, no thank to you, I have to go on a date with Sideswipe of all the mechs!”

 

Smokescreen faltered.

 

“A... a date? I thought he just wanted some help to set a prank...”

“Well, guess what? You thought wrong,” answered his lover with a snarl. “And I can’t really say no, can I? Since I belong to him for two weeks. So, I prefer to warn you,” stated coldly the scientist.

 

Mechs couldn’t gulp like humans did, but right now, Smokescreen wished he could.

 

“I pray he acts like a perfect gentlemech during this date, because if not, you’re not going to set foot in my berth for the next million vorns,” warned Perceptor, arms crossed over his chest.

 

And at this instant, Smokescreen knew he wasn’t going to get laid for a long, long time...