Past Imperfection

There was a reasonable facsimile of a bar not far from Blitzwing's temporary quarters. The locals cleared out of his way, though a lot of optics were on the flashy little sports alt. Deftly the triplechanger guided his companion in front of him, keeping him in sight. Lockdown looked at the hand on his shoulder and at Angry's snarl when someone ventured to close.

"You I like," the little sports alt said.

"You count as a Decepticon agent now," Icy said as they walked through the bar and Random giggled, "At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it."

Blitzwing ordered two high grades and the bartender put a large and small barrel in front the pair. The triple changer sniffed at the fuel cans suspiciously. Not the best but it wouldn’t kill them. However the sports alt was clearly starved and his little glossa darted out as he licked his lips. Random giggled, completely charmed by this.

“Here,” the triple changer said giving his companion the bigger drink and Lockdown’s optics widened. The fuel can was so large that it took both hands to hold it.

“This is all mine?” he asked, looking up at Blitzwing.

“It‘s all yours,” he said.

“Thanks!” the sports alt beamed. His facial stripes turned up cutely and he clutched the barrel to his chest. It hardly classified as high grade but Lockdown was treating it pure energon. Emboldened by this, the triple changer stomped over to a table with a nice view and glared at the other customers until they fled. Random offered the stunned sports alt a seat and then sat down too.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. No one messes with you.”

“Eh, there’s always someone bigger,” Icy said, “I’m still working my up but still it’s hard to stand out.”

“But you’re a triple changer. Swindle told me all about it. Two alt modes with fire AND ice weaponry,” Lockdown said, optics glowing with admiration. Blitzwing was flustered and Random took over again.

“Ooh, but that wasn’t easy,” he said, “I was a Seeker before the experiment. But now I’m-”

“A freak,” Angry groused, “They think I can’t hear them talk! At least Megatron thought I was a worthy test subject.”

“And I always come back,” Icy finished, “Maybe not in one piece, but it’s better than some mechs.”

“Well, you impress the slag out of me,” the slender mech said with a cocky grin and he took a drink. Though hungry, Lockdown sipped lowly and after a swallow he put barrel down, glossa darting out to lick at a stray drop. Random leaned on the table, resting his chin on hand and sighed, watching the striped beauty. Maybe sports alt were useless but they were graceful. No, Lockdown was more than that, he was a flyer without wings.

“Here,” Icy said and pushed his can forward when the sports alt finished his drink.

“Ah, Blitzy you’re too much,” the sports alt chuckled, his voice dark and seductive, “But I’m topped off. My tank can’t hold anymore.”

“Oh,” Random sighed, a little saddened since they would have to go back now.

The little sports car scooted his chair closer and grinned at him. Lockdown’s purple optics were very becoming and his smile was cute, if a little predatory. While a powerful mech, Blitzwing was young and he didn’t have much experience with pretty things. Or anybody for that matter. He startled when Lockdown squeezed his thigh under the table.

“So you staying somewhere close?” the slender mech asked and his hand slid higher, “Or we can do this in an alley ‘cause Swindle has his place bugged.”

“Do what?” Angry asked, confused and flustered. Lockdown grinned, his striped facial markings so flirtatious and inviting.

“Slag, you are just the cutest thing. That’s more fuel than I‘ve had in ages,” the lean mech purred. His optics narrowed and he said, “I was just gonna blow ya, but if you if pay for the room you can do anything you want to me.”

“Okay!” Random giggling and then he asked, “So what do I do?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Lockdown chuckled.