Fic: Cat and Mouse (Thunderstreak's Adventures Ch 2)
Here's chapter two, and I apologize for the fact that it's technically late. School has been driving me crazy this week. Anyways, read and leave feedback/ideas if you want about any antics you'd like to see Alex/Thunder do. I'll try my best to put suggestions into future chapters. Also, any parenting joys or crises you'd like Sam and Bee to participate in, leave feedback on and I'll see what I can do. Half the fun of writing this stuff is getting ideas to fuel the fire even more.
Title: Cat and Mouse
Pairing: Sam/Bee
Rating: PG for slight peril
Summary: Post RotF. Takes place in the same timeline and after the 'Ponderings' series. Sam goes looking for Thunderstreak and finds something else entirely.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor do I make any money out of writing this.
Now Sam didn’t have anything against games, really he didn’t, but when your three year old goes missing for five hours while playing a game of hide and seek, it’s easy for a person to wonder whether playing the game is worth the aggravation.
One would think that a hybrid alien robot with a wireless connection to other alien robots would be able to find his hybrid alien robot son, unless said son turns off his wifi comlink. And in Sam’s opinion, no matter how safe, the Autobot base is still very large and potentially dangerous and he feels his son is still too young to be exploring it all by himself.
Of course Sideswipe was supposed to be watching his son, but the mech and the twins had leapt at the chance to ‘play’ hide and seek, allowing Thuderstreak to run off in joy to hide and for the others to wander off to do whatever their sparks desired.
Oh yes, Sam was pissed.
Five hours later there was still no sign of or way of reaching Thuderstreak and Sam had lost it. After thoroughly chewing out Sideswipe and the twins, Sam had commandeered every other mech in the base at the time to help him search for his son. Images of Thunder stuck under an overturned pile of boxes or locked within some deserted storage room had Sam’s protoform’s processors nearly going haywire.
Methodically moving through the base, Sam came to a previously, for him, unexplored area of the base; a series of rooms that branched off behind the med bay that were obviously used for medical storage. Not finding a light switch in the near vicinity, Sam merely brightened his optics more, in an attempt to pierce through the darkness and clutter of the room he was currently searching.
Sam nearly jumped out of his protoform’s shell after seeing not his son, but the assumedly repaired by Ratchet form of Ravage, optics a relieving blank gray. Though offlined, Sam didn’t want to be anywhere near a Decepticon creation and tried to back up quickly in the crowded room, only to trip and end up falling sideways, his hands shooting out in a reflex to try and brace himself upon impact, only to have his hands land on Ravage’s body while releasing a noticeable amount of Allspark energy.
And that is when the proverbial shit hit the fan.
The whirring sound of gears and operating systems coming online had Sam scrambling up and frantically searching for the room’s exit.
Dashing out of the storage room, Sam risked a glance behind him, revealing a fully functional Ravage that was picking itself up off the table it had been laying on, creepy purple optics focusing and narrowing on Sam before leaping in his direction.
Sam didn’t waste any more time looking, he simply took off, sending emergency requests for help through his comm link.
Knowing he wouldn’t be able to outrun the feline ‘Con, Sam rushed into the med bay, desperately searching for something to keep the Decepticon’s movements restricted.
However, Sam’s luck and time had both run out as the catlike Decepticon charged him and slammed him into the ground. When the expected pain of slashing claws and slamming bullets never came, Sam cautiously opened his optics to peer up, only to find the large metal cat sitting atop his chest plate and thrumming in what could be called mechanical purring.
Letting out a high, shrill sound that he would deny he ever made later on, Sam swiftly shoved the cat off and scooted away, only to have the blasted thing follow him, this time rubbing itself up against any part of him it could reach.
Standing shakily, Sam began to edge towards the med bay’s door, Ravage winding in and around his legs, the mechanical purring still constant.
Sam was forced to stop though as Ratchet ran into the med bay with Bumblebee right on his heels, Thunder firmly pressed to his chest plates. At the other mech’s entrance, Ravage suddenly went from happily purring kitty to killer attack mode in precisely .28 seconds.
“Oh Primus,” Ratchet said, cycling his vents. “So you found Ravage and somehow brought him back online with Allspark energy. You’ll need to let him know that we’re not a threat Sam or he’s going to attack very soon.”
Shooting Ratchet an incredulous look, Sam told Ravage in a hopefully soothing voice that the other mechs were ‘friends’ and then to clarify stated they were ‘allies’.
The feline’s stance relaxed somewhat, but his eerie purple optics remained narrowed and wary.
“Ratchet,” Sam said with undercurrents of warning in his tone. “What the hell is going on and why is the kitty cat suddenly playing nice?”
“It is a simple explanation of data,” Ratchet began. “Ravage, like Frenzy, cannot function without the guidance of a Creator, one who has a higher intelligence and data processors to direct his missions. With the destruction of Soundwave three months ago, Ravage’s programming would recognize the need for a new Creator with whom to partner. The Allspark energy that you released onlined him and his programming reformatted to match most closely to yours. That would be why his optics are no longer red and he is ‘playing nice’ as you put it. It is probable that he saw chasing you as a game that you had initiated.”
By this point, Bumblebee had snuck in closer to Sam and tried to discreetly nudge him away from Ravage, but the feline was having none of it, sticking even closer to Sam and growling low in his throat at Bumblebee, though not attacking due to the data received that the yellow mech was his Creator’s bonded.
“So, he’s like my pet then?” Sam asked, brows furrowed in puzzlement.
“Yes and no,” Ratchet helpfully supplied. “His programming allows for him to be governed by your decisions, but he is not a mindless drone either. It would rather be more exact for him to be described as one of your human butlers or nannies.”
Thunder had clamored down from Bumblebee during Ratchet’s explanation and raced over to the former ‘Con with a childish joyful squeal of ‘kitty!’. Though both Sam and Bumblebee tensed in worry and started to move to intercept their son from the perceived threat, the former ‘Con did nothing but purr in contentment as the young sparkling threw his arms around the feline in delight.
Turning his optics upwards to the weaker-willed of his two Creators, the larger yellow ‘bot, little Thunder voiced his plea.
“Can we keeps him Papa? Pwease?”
Bumblebee’s resolve buckled under his sparkling’s optics and turned a helpless look to Sam, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.
Cycling his vents in frustration, Sam grumbled under his breath about pushover mechs before giving in and saying that they would indeed keep the feline, the squeals of delight and even louder purring making him feel a bit less grumpy about the whole thing.
Having had a sudden thought though, Sam snapped around to face Ravage, placing one of his arms on his hip and pointing his index finger in a condemning motion, looking scarily similar to Judy Witwicky.
“Now you listen and listen good,” Sam vehemently stated. “If I catch you lubricating on anyone or anything in the base without my say so, you’ll be deactivated quicker than you can say ‘bad kitty’.”
Ravage suddenly made a great effort to look as harmless and innocent as possible amidst the stifled laughter of the two grown mechs.
“I don’t even like cats,” Sam muttered to himself. “At least this way I won’t have to worry about whether to get Thunder a puppy or not.”
Thunder was wise enough to be content with what he had. After all, how many boys got a giant guard cat that could shoot ammo as well as purr and play chase?