Oracle 3/?
Someone needs to write me Optimus/Prowl smut...because for no apparent reason, this chapter is making me ship them so hard....
Insert the usual comments here about feedback and pointing out errors.
Title: Oracle
Chapter: 3/?
Rating: T
Setting: Bayverse, pre-earth
Pairings/Characters: Ironhide/Chromia (sort of), Optimus, Prowl, Ratchet
Summary: Ironhide really hated his job somedays. Mostly because he usually went above and beyond what was required of him, just because he felt he should.
---
Eventually, Ironhide decided to stop travelling and just focus on training. They were inside Autobot territory, a few days away from Iacon, so it was safe enough to park it for a few days, and Chromia wasn't improving any with just short evening sessions. She didn't do much better with full-day training sessions, either, as it turned out.
"You shouldn't be surprised by the recoil! You know it's going to be there when you fire! It's not going to magically go away!" Ironhide finally snapped one evening, his frustration having reached its limits.
"It's difficult to get used to," Chromia replied sulkily as she pushed herself up of the ground, where she'd ended up after losing her balance due to the recoil. "Just because you've shown me doesn't mean I'll remember it every time."
"You're not remembering it at all," Ironhide said with a growl. "Primus, at this rate the others will have decided I'm dead and had a memorial service by the time I get back!"
"I told you not to use Primus's name in that fashion," Chromia snapped. She still hadn't let that particular argument drop, either, and as he readied himself to snap back, Ironhide suddenly smirked. Maybe it was time to alter his training methods.
"And why the slag shouldn't I? It's not like you can do a Primus-fraggin thing about it," he taunted, crossing his arms. He'd seen some absolutely horrid trainees get up and out-perform their teachers when angered, and thought maybe Chromia would be one of those. If not, they could at least get in a decent fight instead of all this bickering, and hopefully clear the air a bit.
"You'd be surprised," Chromia said darkly.
"Oh really? You've given a pretty poor showing of what you can do so far," Ironhide said with a snort. "Frag, at this point I'd rather have your priests watching my back than you - at least they knew how to make a good distraction." It was a low blow, and Ironhide knew it - low, but effective. Unfortunately for Ironhide, getting Chromia angry didn't have the results he'd hoped for. Her furious gaze turning to him was the only warning he had before something blasted past his firewalls, flew through his processor, and was gone again. It didn't hurt, but it smarted, and sent his processor whirling.
"The frag was that, femme?!" he demanded as he tried to recover.
"Me copying all your combat protocols," Chromia said with a sniff, then raised the rifle and effortlessly shot the center of the target four times in a row, adjusting for the recoil perfectly. "That's better." Ironhide growled as he stalked over to the femme and ripped the rifle out of her hands, glaring down at her.
"Two things," Ironhide growled. "First: did you know you could do that all along?"
"Of course, it's part of the bond," Chromia replied irritably.
"Fine. Second: if you ever break into my processor that way again, I will shoot you, oath or no!" With that, Ironhide turned and stormed off, subspacing the rifle as he went. He badly needed to shoot something - something that wasn't the femme he'd sworn to protect, no matter how much he wanted to.
An hour later, when he no longer felt like shooting Chromia and had finished reducing an unsuspecting building to nothing but rubble, Ironhide made his way back to where he'd left her. She was sitting on the ground, glaring at the target and scowling, when he first spotted her. He could tell she wasn't lying about having copied his combat protocols, though, as the moment he made a sound, she jumped up into a defensive position that he recognized all too well. Ironhide snorted.
"Well, at least now there's something there to work with," he said, pulling his spare rifle out of subspace again and tossing it to her. She caught it automatically, looking surprised. "I'll sort out the mess of you having combat protocols designed by and for a mech twice your size tomorrow. Get some recharge."
---
Despite what Ironhide said, Chromia having his combat protocols wasn't as bad a mess as it seemed. There were certain hand-to-hand maneuvers she just couldn't pull off, but she seemed fairly good at realizing what they were. When Ironhide asked her about it, she admitted to using her gift to peek into the future a bit.
"Now that's a decent use for that talent, at least," Ironhide said with a snort, much to Chromia's surprise. "If you can manage it in combat, in fact, you'll be pretty much unbeatable."
"It...takes some concentration," she admitted.
"Yeah, and I've been goin' easy on ya," Ironhide mused. "Alright, lets try a real spar."
"I'm not sure it would be the same, considering our bond," Chromia observed.
"It'll be close enough for us to tell if the idea's reasonable, though," Ironhide replied.
Settling into combat stances, the two of them circled each other as they began their spar. She was right that the bond made it different, and Ironhide did his best to block out the sense of tension he got from her as he watched for an opening. After a few moments, he saw one, and launched his attack. She dodged it completely. When he looked back, she was grinning, clearly pleased with herself. Distracted as she was, she completely missed his next attack, taking the full brunt of it, and the spar was officially on. Their pace was rapid, blows going back and forth quickly, and by the end, it was clear that while Chromia could use her gift to avoid some attacks, she often payed for them afterwards, stepping into or missing obvious attacks.
"Well, I don't think you'll be wanting to do that in a real fight," Ironhide said with a grunt once they finished - he'd won, of course. "But it could be useful in some situations - maybe if you refined it a bit."
"Part of the problem may be that I'm trying to switch between the future and the present too much," Chromia said thoughtfully. "Perhaps if I focused entirely on the future, and wrote some sort of a...time-delay protocol for my movements, it would work better."
"Might work, but that'd be a tricky protocol to write," Ironhide commented - the danger of getting your processor out of sync with your body was one all Cybertronians knew of.
"I know," Chromia said, sighing. After a moment, she glanced up, looking at Ironhide in amusement.
"What?" he grunted.
"This is the first conversation in days that hasn't turned into us bickering," she replied. "And it's about combat protocols. You're a very strange mech."
"I'm a mech that's one of the best at what he does," Ironhide growled in response.
"You mean being in love with your weapons and combat protocols?" Chromia asked innocently.
"Frag off," Ironhide retorted, and Chromia laughed.
With Chromia's combat skills sorted out, it was finally time for them to head back to Iacon. Ironhide lead the way quietly at first, trying to figure out the best way to broach one final topic regarding their cover - the fact that they were supposed to be playing bondmates. Eventually, he decided to just explain as bluntly as possible. Chromia didn't take it too well.
"I'm not going to play the perfect little subservient bondmate to you," Chromia argued after Ironhide tried to explain why her behavior would need to change yet again.
"Not subservient, femme, just not arguin' with me as much," Ironhide tried.
"Right, because anyone who knows you would believe that you'd bond with a femme that just stood back and let you take charge," Chromia said sarcastically.
"Exactly!"
"You are so deluded."
"I think I know what type of femme I'd slaggin bond with more than you fraggin do!"
"I think you know what type of femme you think you'd like to bond with. The type of femme that your friends will believe you bonded to is something else entirely, though."
"And how would you fraggin know?" Ironhide snapped, and Chromia stopped, giving him an incredulous look. Ironhide glared at her. "That's cheatin'. And you agreed not to do it anymore."
"Ignoring the fact that I agreed only under duress, I will point out that I didn't say anything - you just assumed," Chromia replied with a smirk. "Besides, you were accepting enough when I was using my gift to fight. I think you just don't like me using it to prove you wrong."
"Frag you, femme," Ironhide snapped.
"You know, if we're going to play bondmates, you really should use my name," she replied lightly, and Ironhide's only response was a low, dangerous growl before stalking off ahead. A snickering Chromia followed him.
---
"Showtime," Ironhide muttered a few days later as they came within range of the lookouts for the Autobot base. "Any questions from now on, you ask over the bond, y'here?"
"Of course," Chromia replied. "I'm not glitched."
"I would debate that," Ironhide retorted, then stopped as he was pinged by one of the lookouts. He pinged them back, and a moment later, received a confirmation to continue. He didn't even see whoever was on lookout as they proceeded into the base, and doubted Chromia even knew about the exchange - it was one of the security plans that Prowl had come up with. It was harder to shoot the lookouts and eliminate any warning the base had of an attack if you never saw the lookouts. Of course, the lookout had relayed his arrival back to base, and by the time they got there, there was a welcoming committee waiting - Optimus, Prowl, and Ratchet.
"Ironhide." Optimus seemed relieved to see him. "It is good to see you back."
"Yeah, sorry it took me so long. Had a bit of a side trip ta make," Ironhide replied.
"I assume that this side trip has to do with your companion?" Prowl, as expected, was eyeing Chromia carefully.
"It did," Chromia replied for Ironhide, stepping forward. "I'm Chromia. Ironhide's bondmate." Ironhide decided the entire mission up to that point had been worth it just to see the stunned looks on his three friends’ faces.
"You've said multiple times that you weren't bonded!" Ratchet was the first to recover, glaring at Ironhide.
"Yeah, well, there were safety concerns, since we were both in the security forces, so we didn't exactly spread it around," Ironhide said with a shrug. "Plus, she was in Kaon when it fell, so I figured it would be better not to draw attention to her."
"Which would have been a valid excuse if you had known where I was and that I was functional. But you didn't, because those fragging neutrals had me in stasis for repairs," Chromia amended cheerfully. "You just didn't want to admit you had no slaggin clue where your own bondmate was."
"Oh mute it. I found you eventually," Ironhide said with a mild glare. Snickering caught his attention, then, and he turned his glare to the source - Ratchet.
"I'd never imagined the perfect femme for Ironhide, but if I had, you would have been it, Chromia," the medic said. "Welcome to Autobot Headquarters."
"Indeed. It is always a pleasure to find old...friends," Optimus said, observing the femme in front of him. Something in the Prime's look made Ironhide worry.
~He knows,~ he said over the bond.
~He suspects something is amiss, nothing more. He has not personally seen me enough to recognize me, and without the Matrix of Leadership, no Prime can identify me on sight,~ Chromia replied easily.
~Looked that up, did you?~ Ironhide asked in a grumble, recognizing the particular surety in her voice.
~I wanted to know when this charade would end,~ Chromia retorted. Fair enough, Ironhide decided, returning his attention to his friends, who were watching with amusement.
"What?" he asked crankily.
"As I won't need to assign a second set of quarters, I believe I will leave you to get checked out by Ratchet," Prowl said, nodding to the two of them.
"When he releases you, I would very much like to hear your report," Optimus added, looking at Chromia thoughtfully, and Ironhide nodded.
"'Course," he said.
"Farewell, then," Optimus said with a nod, and then he and Prowl headed off. Ratchet, still grinning, motioned for them to follow him as he headed off.
~He speaks formally, why did I have to change?~ Chromia grumbled over the bond as they went.
~Because he's the Prime,~ Ironhide shot back.
~And what about - Prowl?~ Ironhide felt Chromia pull the name from his databanks, and glared at her. ~If we're bondmates, they will assume you've talked about them to me somewhat,~ she said reasonably.
~Right, sure - I told ya before not ta poke around in my processor. Ask if you wanna know,~ Ironhide growled.
~You're so touchy,~ Chromia grumbled.
~I am not touchy - I just like to be the only one in my own fraggin' processor!~ Ironhide snapped.
~...you do realize that the very definition of a bond is that you aren't alone in your processor anymore.~
~Frag off. You know what I meant.~
"Right. As amusing as this is - mute your mental argument and get up on the berths." Ratchet's amused voice brought Ironhide's attention back to the real world, and he realized they'd arrived at the med bay without him noticing. Glaring at Chromia again, he went and hopped up on a berth. Chromia hopped up on one next to him, and Ratchet set to work. As the medic scanned the two of them, it quickly became clear that he and Chromia were going to get along famously - especially when it came to ganging up on Ironhide. The weapons specialist quickly decided that if his friends really thought he'd bond with someone like Chromia, they all secretly hated him. Fortunately, Optimus was not so prone to siding with random femmes against his friends.
"Ironhide, Chromia, have a seat," Optimus welcomed them to his office when they arrived. Ironhide happily flopped into the bigger of the two chairs in front of the Prime's desk - Optimus always had chairs of different sizes available, making it much more comfortable to visit his office than anyone else's. How he always seemed to have the right ones out in front of his desk when 'Bots showed up to talk to him, expected or not, was a mystery that no one had yet tried to solve.
"It's good to have you back, Ironhide," Optimus said. "I must admit, I was worried when we finally reached the Temple, only to find the Oracle and her priests dead, and you missing." Ironhide stared at him for a moment.
~Some of the femme priests were able to look like me at a moment's notice, much as I was able to change my plating,~ Chromia explained smoothly. ~I hadn't realized the deception would last through death, or close scrutiny, however.~
~They probably didn't scrutinize too much. Y'are 'holy', after all,~ Ironhide replied, then returned his attention to Optimus, who was looking at him oddly. "Yeah, sorry bout that. Woulda left you a message if I could."
"I'm sure," Optimus said. "So, what did happen?"
"Pretty much what we expected. I showed up, told 'em the Decepticons were right behind me, aiming to kill them. The priests dithered for a bit, but in the end, did nothing," Ironhide said with a shrug.
"The Oracle said nothing?" Optimus asked, a curious note in his voice.
"Nope," Ironhide said, resisting glancing over at Chromia. "The Oracle didn't make a sound, and the priests apparently took that as a sign that the 'Cons wouldn't dare kill them. Guess they found out the hard way that they fraggin would dare." Optimus sighed.
"Without the Oracle backing you up, there was nothing you could do," he said. "To stay and fight would only have led to your death."
"Yeah. They wouldn't even let me set up defenses," Ironhide grumbled, still a bit sore about that. "I did stay and fight for a bit, though. Until Chromia contacted me." He nodded towards Chromia, who snorted in amusement.
"That's unusually mild phrasing for you, Ironhide," she said, then turned a narrowed glare on Optimus. "Imagine my reaction when I finally manage to reach my bondmate, only to realize he's about to nobly sacrifice himself." Optimus shifted uncomfortably. "I would appreciate it, Prime, if you didn't send my bondmate on missions where you know his own moronic tendencies will put him in such a position." Ironhide frowned at her, wondering where this was coming from.
"The Temple was an important symbol," Optimus said. "The Oracle even more so. Losing them is a blow to our morale."
"If they were that important, you should have sent a squad, and not just Ironhide," Chromia snapped, and Ironhide understood. This wasn't for him, it was for her priests - she was chewing Optimus out for not sending more Autobots to defend them, and her.
"There were other targets that took priority. We were in the unfortunate position of having too many important targets to protect, and not enough troops," Optimus said with a shake of his head. "The Decepticons likely planned it so."
"Then you should have either sent a squad or no one," Chromia said, glaring at Optimus. He looked equal parts amused and guilty at being told off by the femme, and in the end, simply nodded.
"I will see to it that such a thing does not happen again."
"Good," Chromia replied, nodding in satisfaction.
"Sooo...Prowl wants a written report of all'a this?" Ironhide asked awkwardly, to break the sudden silence.
"Yes, he does," Optimus seemed grateful for the change in topic. "From both of you, of course. We can always use more information on neutrals, especially around Kaon."
"We can finish those up easily enough," Ironhide said with a nod. "When does he want them by?"
"Considering this is Prowl, as soon as possible," Optimus said dryly. "But feel free to put it off for awhile. Ratchet's recommended a half an orn off-duty for the both of you, and I agree entirely. Especially as Chromia's not even technically part of the Autobots yet."
"We can fix that easily enough," Chromia commented, and Optimus nodded.
"In half an orn," he said pleasantly.
"Prowl's annoyed over Ratchet's recommendation, isn't he?" Ironhide asked dryly, recognizing the mischievousness in the Prime's tone.
"Extremely," Optimus said with a wide grin. "As usual, he wants to get everything worked out and back in order straight away." Ironhide chuckled.
"I think for once, I'm gonna stay outta the Prowl-baiting. He'll have our reports by the end of the day," the weapons specialist said, standing. Chromia followed his lead and stood as well, though she was obviously curious about the exchange.
"Spoil-sport," Optimus accused good-naturedly.
"Nah, I just don't want him stalking me while I'm off-duty," Ironhide said with a shudder. Optimus' gaze flickered over to Chromia, and he smirked.
"I imagine not," he said.
"Bye, Prime," Ironhide said with a shake of his head, and Optimus laughingly returned the farewell. Outside, Chromia looked curiously at Ironhide. "Don't ask. Just...don't ask. And if you ever see Optimus with that particular gleam in his optics again, make yourself scarce and deny ya ever saw him."
"Right," Chromia said with amusement. Ironhide chuckled again, not for the first time finding himself glad that Optimus hadn't made him second in command. The Prime seemed to delight in tormenting Prowl - Ironhide shuddered to think how much worse it would have been for him, where he'd known Optimus for longer.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ironhide decided to head for the wash racks first. As much as he wanted to get those reports done for Prowl, he'd just remembered what an absolute mess he'd left his quarters. He wanted to see if he could get Chromia settled in the wash racks, then sneak out ahead of her and clean them up a bit. Not that he was worried about making a good impression or anything, but he wouldn't have even let Optimus into his quarters, the way they were - the Autobots had been scrambling to defend against the Decepticons for the past few orns, leaving him unable to clean up.
Unfortunately for Ironhide, it turned out that Chromia had absolutely no clue what to do in a public wash rack. She'd only washed privately before, with the help of a few priests. So Ironhide had to stick around and explain things to her as he scrubbed himself down. Fortunately, they were alone in the wash racks, so he didn't have to be very covert about it. When they finally finished, Ironhide reluctantly led the way back to his quarters.
"Wow," Chromia said dryly, turning and giving him an arched look after she stepped inside. Various weapons, and parts thereof, were littered around the room, datapads with schematics hidden amongst the mess, along with polishing cloths and a few empty energon cubes. The large couch had only enough clear space on it for him to sit, and the accompanying low table had boxes haphazardly shoved underneath containing data crystals and tools. Most of the surfaces had some type of grease stains on them - the only completely clear, and clean, space was the berth.
"I've been busy," Ironhide grumbled as Chromia slowly picked her way over to the berth, sitting gingerly.
"I can see that," Chromia replied mildly, looking meaningfully at the clutter, and Ironhide glared at her before beginning to neaten up. When he found a blank datapad, he tossed it to the watching femme, telling her to make herself useful and write the report for Prowl. A few minutes later, she poked him tentatively through the bond.
"What?" he snapped, trying to figure out where to put a half-finished cannon upgrade he was working on.
"Since you're so touchy about your privacy, I thought I'd ask for an example of how to write a report," Chromia said. Ironhide, still a bit sore about her initial comments on the state of his quarters, looked over at her with a smirk.
"So you can learn without breaking into a mech's processor," he said.
"Oh frag off," she retorted, throwing the datapad at his head. Ironhide chuckled and returned to neatening up.
---
Eventually, Ironhide got around to writing his report for Prowl, then wrote one up for Chromia, too - she didn't have the experience with neutrals or anything around Kaon to write it properly, much to her own irritation. She re-wrote the report once Ironhide finished, of course, using her own language. Once she was done, Ironhide told her to stay put and went to drop the reports off.
"Thank you, Ironhide," Prowl acknowledged with a nod as the weapons specialist gave him the two datapads. "By the way. I realized I forgot to ask for combat specifications for Chromia. While Optimus has given you both half an orn off, I would like to make use of the time to determine the best unit for Chromia to be placed with." Ironhide froze, suddenly realizing the massive, gaping flaw in his cover story. If Chromia could fight, she would be expected to go into battle - where he couldn't protect her.
~You're just realizing that now?~ Chromia said with amusement over the bond. Ironhide just growled in response, shoving her out as he turned his full attention to Prowl.
"Er - Chromia doesn't have any combat specifications at the moment. The slaggin neutrals had to practically rebuild her, and they took out all her combat upgrades when they did."
"I assume she'll be getting those upgrades replaced?" Prowl said patiently, and Ironhide nodded. "Then you should have some idea of her specifications for me to work with."
"Uh, well, see, thing about femmes, they're kinda unpredictable," Ironhide said in a rush. "I have no slaggin clue what that femme is gonna want for upgrades when it comes down to it - she could completely change what she had."
"I...see," Prowl replied slowly.
"I'll letcha know once she decides, though," Ironhide concluded cheerfully, then fled Prowl's office. Stalking back to his quarters, he was arguing with Chromia before he even reached them. ~You knew that you were gonna have to fight, and you didn't mention this problem?~
~The moment I left the Temple, it was set that I would end up fighting, one way or another,~ Chromia said reasonably. ~There were a multitude of reasons and ways that it would come about. This cover story of yours was the most desirable out of all the ones I saw.~
~The most desirable to who? You?~ Ironhide snarled.
~Yes.~
~Well it ain't desirable to me!~
~Unfortunately for you, through your own actions, and through the deaths of my priests, I have ceased to be a pretty bauble that does as told. I can, and am, thinking for myself for the first time in my life - which, I'll remind you, has been longer than yours,~ Chromia snapped. ~I'd like to think that a thousand vorns of service to the Cybertronian people, serving as their link to Primus, has given me the right to chose my own future.~
~And so you chose a future that involves fighting? This war isn't a pleasant thing, femme. No war ever is -~
~I know that! I have seen it!~ Chromia hissed, interrupting Ironhide. ~You do not grasp just what my gift has shown me! I saw Megatron massacring the senate, in vivid detail, before it happened! I have seen every major battle of this war, whether or not it has happened! I have seen mechs have parts ripped out and crushed, seen mechs get ripped apart. Fraggit Ironhide, I need only to look at an Autobot or Decepticon to see how they will die. Do you think that such visions are all sunshine and high-grade? Because they aren't. They are a never-ending display of death and carnage, tragedies that I cannot prevent. Not unless I do something - and unfortunately, sitting around spouting prophecies no longer counts as doing something. This war is so far out of control that the only way I can affect the future anymore is with my own actions and decisions. Everyone else is set on their path - even you.~
Ironhide opened the door to his quarters, stepping inside and meeting Chromia's furious glare. Silence hung between them as the door slid shut behind him.
"There is a difference between seeing fighting, seeing killing, and doing it yourself," Ironhide rumbled finally, giving Chromia a piercing look, willing her to understand that he wasn't chastising her. He had sworn an oath to protect her, and in his processor, that didn't just mean from physical harm. Chromia looked away.
"Refusal to fight on my part will only lead to your death," she said finally, softly. "And I will not be responsible for the death of anyone else through my own inaction." Ironhide grimaced, stepping over to the femme and resting a hand on her shoulder. In response, she stepped forward and latched onto him, hugging him tightly and hiding her face against his shoulder. Ironhide had no idea what to say - he couldn't really tell her it wasn't her fault, because they'd already been over that, and she'd pretty much admitted that she could have saved some of her priests if she'd tried. She'd chosen not to, though. So Ironhide just stood there, holding her and letting her hold onto him.
In the end, it was a comm ping that made her draw away, a confused look on her face as she spoke on her internal comms turning into a frown, and then a grin as she looked up at Ironhide.
"It seems Ratchet has been made aware of the fact that I need combat upgrades, and would like me to return to med bay to sort them out," she said, and Ironhide winced.
"Fraggin Prowl doesn't waste any time," he said, and Chromia laughed, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him towards the door.
"Come on, I'm going to need help deciding what to get," she said gleefully, and Ironhide groaned.
Insert the usual comments here about feedback and pointing out errors.
Title: Oracle
Chapter: 3/?
Rating: T
Setting: Bayverse, pre-earth
Pairings/Characters: Ironhide/Chromia (sort of), Optimus, Prowl, Ratchet
Summary: Ironhide really hated his job somedays. Mostly because he usually went above and beyond what was required of him, just because he felt he should.
---
Eventually, Ironhide decided to stop travelling and just focus on training. They were inside Autobot territory, a few days away from Iacon, so it was safe enough to park it for a few days, and Chromia wasn't improving any with just short evening sessions. She didn't do much better with full-day training sessions, either, as it turned out.
"You shouldn't be surprised by the recoil! You know it's going to be there when you fire! It's not going to magically go away!" Ironhide finally snapped one evening, his frustration having reached its limits.
"It's difficult to get used to," Chromia replied sulkily as she pushed herself up of the ground, where she'd ended up after losing her balance due to the recoil. "Just because you've shown me doesn't mean I'll remember it every time."
"You're not remembering it at all," Ironhide said with a growl. "Primus, at this rate the others will have decided I'm dead and had a memorial service by the time I get back!"
"I told you not to use Primus's name in that fashion," Chromia snapped. She still hadn't let that particular argument drop, either, and as he readied himself to snap back, Ironhide suddenly smirked. Maybe it was time to alter his training methods.
"And why the slag shouldn't I? It's not like you can do a Primus-fraggin thing about it," he taunted, crossing his arms. He'd seen some absolutely horrid trainees get up and out-perform their teachers when angered, and thought maybe Chromia would be one of those. If not, they could at least get in a decent fight instead of all this bickering, and hopefully clear the air a bit.
"You'd be surprised," Chromia said darkly.
"Oh really? You've given a pretty poor showing of what you can do so far," Ironhide said with a snort. "Frag, at this point I'd rather have your priests watching my back than you - at least they knew how to make a good distraction." It was a low blow, and Ironhide knew it - low, but effective. Unfortunately for Ironhide, getting Chromia angry didn't have the results he'd hoped for. Her furious gaze turning to him was the only warning he had before something blasted past his firewalls, flew through his processor, and was gone again. It didn't hurt, but it smarted, and sent his processor whirling.
"The frag was that, femme?!" he demanded as he tried to recover.
"Me copying all your combat protocols," Chromia said with a sniff, then raised the rifle and effortlessly shot the center of the target four times in a row, adjusting for the recoil perfectly. "That's better." Ironhide growled as he stalked over to the femme and ripped the rifle out of her hands, glaring down at her.
"Two things," Ironhide growled. "First: did you know you could do that all along?"
"Of course, it's part of the bond," Chromia replied irritably.
"Fine. Second: if you ever break into my processor that way again, I will shoot you, oath or no!" With that, Ironhide turned and stormed off, subspacing the rifle as he went. He badly needed to shoot something - something that wasn't the femme he'd sworn to protect, no matter how much he wanted to.
An hour later, when he no longer felt like shooting Chromia and had finished reducing an unsuspecting building to nothing but rubble, Ironhide made his way back to where he'd left her. She was sitting on the ground, glaring at the target and scowling, when he first spotted her. He could tell she wasn't lying about having copied his combat protocols, though, as the moment he made a sound, she jumped up into a defensive position that he recognized all too well. Ironhide snorted.
"Well, at least now there's something there to work with," he said, pulling his spare rifle out of subspace again and tossing it to her. She caught it automatically, looking surprised. "I'll sort out the mess of you having combat protocols designed by and for a mech twice your size tomorrow. Get some recharge."
---
Despite what Ironhide said, Chromia having his combat protocols wasn't as bad a mess as it seemed. There were certain hand-to-hand maneuvers she just couldn't pull off, but she seemed fairly good at realizing what they were. When Ironhide asked her about it, she admitted to using her gift to peek into the future a bit.
"Now that's a decent use for that talent, at least," Ironhide said with a snort, much to Chromia's surprise. "If you can manage it in combat, in fact, you'll be pretty much unbeatable."
"It...takes some concentration," she admitted.
"Yeah, and I've been goin' easy on ya," Ironhide mused. "Alright, lets try a real spar."
"I'm not sure it would be the same, considering our bond," Chromia observed.
"It'll be close enough for us to tell if the idea's reasonable, though," Ironhide replied.
Settling into combat stances, the two of them circled each other as they began their spar. She was right that the bond made it different, and Ironhide did his best to block out the sense of tension he got from her as he watched for an opening. After a few moments, he saw one, and launched his attack. She dodged it completely. When he looked back, she was grinning, clearly pleased with herself. Distracted as she was, she completely missed his next attack, taking the full brunt of it, and the spar was officially on. Their pace was rapid, blows going back and forth quickly, and by the end, it was clear that while Chromia could use her gift to avoid some attacks, she often payed for them afterwards, stepping into or missing obvious attacks.
"Well, I don't think you'll be wanting to do that in a real fight," Ironhide said with a grunt once they finished - he'd won, of course. "But it could be useful in some situations - maybe if you refined it a bit."
"Part of the problem may be that I'm trying to switch between the future and the present too much," Chromia said thoughtfully. "Perhaps if I focused entirely on the future, and wrote some sort of a...time-delay protocol for my movements, it would work better."
"Might work, but that'd be a tricky protocol to write," Ironhide commented - the danger of getting your processor out of sync with your body was one all Cybertronians knew of.
"I know," Chromia said, sighing. After a moment, she glanced up, looking at Ironhide in amusement.
"What?" he grunted.
"This is the first conversation in days that hasn't turned into us bickering," she replied. "And it's about combat protocols. You're a very strange mech."
"I'm a mech that's one of the best at what he does," Ironhide growled in response.
"You mean being in love with your weapons and combat protocols?" Chromia asked innocently.
"Frag off," Ironhide retorted, and Chromia laughed.
With Chromia's combat skills sorted out, it was finally time for them to head back to Iacon. Ironhide lead the way quietly at first, trying to figure out the best way to broach one final topic regarding their cover - the fact that they were supposed to be playing bondmates. Eventually, he decided to just explain as bluntly as possible. Chromia didn't take it too well.
"I'm not going to play the perfect little subservient bondmate to you," Chromia argued after Ironhide tried to explain why her behavior would need to change yet again.
"Not subservient, femme, just not arguin' with me as much," Ironhide tried.
"Right, because anyone who knows you would believe that you'd bond with a femme that just stood back and let you take charge," Chromia said sarcastically.
"Exactly!"
"You are so deluded."
"I think I know what type of femme I'd slaggin bond with more than you fraggin do!"
"I think you know what type of femme you think you'd like to bond with. The type of femme that your friends will believe you bonded to is something else entirely, though."
"And how would you fraggin know?" Ironhide snapped, and Chromia stopped, giving him an incredulous look. Ironhide glared at her. "That's cheatin'. And you agreed not to do it anymore."
"Ignoring the fact that I agreed only under duress, I will point out that I didn't say anything - you just assumed," Chromia replied with a smirk. "Besides, you were accepting enough when I was using my gift to fight. I think you just don't like me using it to prove you wrong."
"Frag you, femme," Ironhide snapped.
"You know, if we're going to play bondmates, you really should use my name," she replied lightly, and Ironhide's only response was a low, dangerous growl before stalking off ahead. A snickering Chromia followed him.
---
"Showtime," Ironhide muttered a few days later as they came within range of the lookouts for the Autobot base. "Any questions from now on, you ask over the bond, y'here?"
"Of course," Chromia replied. "I'm not glitched."
"I would debate that," Ironhide retorted, then stopped as he was pinged by one of the lookouts. He pinged them back, and a moment later, received a confirmation to continue. He didn't even see whoever was on lookout as they proceeded into the base, and doubted Chromia even knew about the exchange - it was one of the security plans that Prowl had come up with. It was harder to shoot the lookouts and eliminate any warning the base had of an attack if you never saw the lookouts. Of course, the lookout had relayed his arrival back to base, and by the time they got there, there was a welcoming committee waiting - Optimus, Prowl, and Ratchet.
"Ironhide." Optimus seemed relieved to see him. "It is good to see you back."
"Yeah, sorry it took me so long. Had a bit of a side trip ta make," Ironhide replied.
"I assume that this side trip has to do with your companion?" Prowl, as expected, was eyeing Chromia carefully.
"It did," Chromia replied for Ironhide, stepping forward. "I'm Chromia. Ironhide's bondmate." Ironhide decided the entire mission up to that point had been worth it just to see the stunned looks on his three friends’ faces.
"You've said multiple times that you weren't bonded!" Ratchet was the first to recover, glaring at Ironhide.
"Yeah, well, there were safety concerns, since we were both in the security forces, so we didn't exactly spread it around," Ironhide said with a shrug. "Plus, she was in Kaon when it fell, so I figured it would be better not to draw attention to her."
"Which would have been a valid excuse if you had known where I was and that I was functional. But you didn't, because those fragging neutrals had me in stasis for repairs," Chromia amended cheerfully. "You just didn't want to admit you had no slaggin clue where your own bondmate was."
"Oh mute it. I found you eventually," Ironhide said with a mild glare. Snickering caught his attention, then, and he turned his glare to the source - Ratchet.
"I'd never imagined the perfect femme for Ironhide, but if I had, you would have been it, Chromia," the medic said. "Welcome to Autobot Headquarters."
"Indeed. It is always a pleasure to find old...friends," Optimus said, observing the femme in front of him. Something in the Prime's look made Ironhide worry.
~He knows,~ he said over the bond.
~He suspects something is amiss, nothing more. He has not personally seen me enough to recognize me, and without the Matrix of Leadership, no Prime can identify me on sight,~ Chromia replied easily.
~Looked that up, did you?~ Ironhide asked in a grumble, recognizing the particular surety in her voice.
~I wanted to know when this charade would end,~ Chromia retorted. Fair enough, Ironhide decided, returning his attention to his friends, who were watching with amusement.
"What?" he asked crankily.
"As I won't need to assign a second set of quarters, I believe I will leave you to get checked out by Ratchet," Prowl said, nodding to the two of them.
"When he releases you, I would very much like to hear your report," Optimus added, looking at Chromia thoughtfully, and Ironhide nodded.
"'Course," he said.
"Farewell, then," Optimus said with a nod, and then he and Prowl headed off. Ratchet, still grinning, motioned for them to follow him as he headed off.
~He speaks formally, why did I have to change?~ Chromia grumbled over the bond as they went.
~Because he's the Prime,~ Ironhide shot back.
~And what about - Prowl?~ Ironhide felt Chromia pull the name from his databanks, and glared at her. ~If we're bondmates, they will assume you've talked about them to me somewhat,~ she said reasonably.
~Right, sure - I told ya before not ta poke around in my processor. Ask if you wanna know,~ Ironhide growled.
~You're so touchy,~ Chromia grumbled.
~I am not touchy - I just like to be the only one in my own fraggin' processor!~ Ironhide snapped.
~...you do realize that the very definition of a bond is that you aren't alone in your processor anymore.~
~Frag off. You know what I meant.~
"Right. As amusing as this is - mute your mental argument and get up on the berths." Ratchet's amused voice brought Ironhide's attention back to the real world, and he realized they'd arrived at the med bay without him noticing. Glaring at Chromia again, he went and hopped up on a berth. Chromia hopped up on one next to him, and Ratchet set to work. As the medic scanned the two of them, it quickly became clear that he and Chromia were going to get along famously - especially when it came to ganging up on Ironhide. The weapons specialist quickly decided that if his friends really thought he'd bond with someone like Chromia, they all secretly hated him. Fortunately, Optimus was not so prone to siding with random femmes against his friends.
"Ironhide, Chromia, have a seat," Optimus welcomed them to his office when they arrived. Ironhide happily flopped into the bigger of the two chairs in front of the Prime's desk - Optimus always had chairs of different sizes available, making it much more comfortable to visit his office than anyone else's. How he always seemed to have the right ones out in front of his desk when 'Bots showed up to talk to him, expected or not, was a mystery that no one had yet tried to solve.
"It's good to have you back, Ironhide," Optimus said. "I must admit, I was worried when we finally reached the Temple, only to find the Oracle and her priests dead, and you missing." Ironhide stared at him for a moment.
~Some of the femme priests were able to look like me at a moment's notice, much as I was able to change my plating,~ Chromia explained smoothly. ~I hadn't realized the deception would last through death, or close scrutiny, however.~
~They probably didn't scrutinize too much. Y'are 'holy', after all,~ Ironhide replied, then returned his attention to Optimus, who was looking at him oddly. "Yeah, sorry bout that. Woulda left you a message if I could."
"I'm sure," Optimus said. "So, what did happen?"
"Pretty much what we expected. I showed up, told 'em the Decepticons were right behind me, aiming to kill them. The priests dithered for a bit, but in the end, did nothing," Ironhide said with a shrug.
"The Oracle said nothing?" Optimus asked, a curious note in his voice.
"Nope," Ironhide said, resisting glancing over at Chromia. "The Oracle didn't make a sound, and the priests apparently took that as a sign that the 'Cons wouldn't dare kill them. Guess they found out the hard way that they fraggin would dare." Optimus sighed.
"Without the Oracle backing you up, there was nothing you could do," he said. "To stay and fight would only have led to your death."
"Yeah. They wouldn't even let me set up defenses," Ironhide grumbled, still a bit sore about that. "I did stay and fight for a bit, though. Until Chromia contacted me." He nodded towards Chromia, who snorted in amusement.
"That's unusually mild phrasing for you, Ironhide," she said, then turned a narrowed glare on Optimus. "Imagine my reaction when I finally manage to reach my bondmate, only to realize he's about to nobly sacrifice himself." Optimus shifted uncomfortably. "I would appreciate it, Prime, if you didn't send my bondmate on missions where you know his own moronic tendencies will put him in such a position." Ironhide frowned at her, wondering where this was coming from.
"The Temple was an important symbol," Optimus said. "The Oracle even more so. Losing them is a blow to our morale."
"If they were that important, you should have sent a squad, and not just Ironhide," Chromia snapped, and Ironhide understood. This wasn't for him, it was for her priests - she was chewing Optimus out for not sending more Autobots to defend them, and her.
"There were other targets that took priority. We were in the unfortunate position of having too many important targets to protect, and not enough troops," Optimus said with a shake of his head. "The Decepticons likely planned it so."
"Then you should have either sent a squad or no one," Chromia said, glaring at Optimus. He looked equal parts amused and guilty at being told off by the femme, and in the end, simply nodded.
"I will see to it that such a thing does not happen again."
"Good," Chromia replied, nodding in satisfaction.
"Sooo...Prowl wants a written report of all'a this?" Ironhide asked awkwardly, to break the sudden silence.
"Yes, he does," Optimus seemed grateful for the change in topic. "From both of you, of course. We can always use more information on neutrals, especially around Kaon."
"We can finish those up easily enough," Ironhide said with a nod. "When does he want them by?"
"Considering this is Prowl, as soon as possible," Optimus said dryly. "But feel free to put it off for awhile. Ratchet's recommended a half an orn off-duty for the both of you, and I agree entirely. Especially as Chromia's not even technically part of the Autobots yet."
"We can fix that easily enough," Chromia commented, and Optimus nodded.
"In half an orn," he said pleasantly.
"Prowl's annoyed over Ratchet's recommendation, isn't he?" Ironhide asked dryly, recognizing the mischievousness in the Prime's tone.
"Extremely," Optimus said with a wide grin. "As usual, he wants to get everything worked out and back in order straight away." Ironhide chuckled.
"I think for once, I'm gonna stay outta the Prowl-baiting. He'll have our reports by the end of the day," the weapons specialist said, standing. Chromia followed his lead and stood as well, though she was obviously curious about the exchange.
"Spoil-sport," Optimus accused good-naturedly.
"Nah, I just don't want him stalking me while I'm off-duty," Ironhide said with a shudder. Optimus' gaze flickered over to Chromia, and he smirked.
"I imagine not," he said.
"Bye, Prime," Ironhide said with a shake of his head, and Optimus laughingly returned the farewell. Outside, Chromia looked curiously at Ironhide. "Don't ask. Just...don't ask. And if you ever see Optimus with that particular gleam in his optics again, make yourself scarce and deny ya ever saw him."
"Right," Chromia said with amusement. Ironhide chuckled again, not for the first time finding himself glad that Optimus hadn't made him second in command. The Prime seemed to delight in tormenting Prowl - Ironhide shuddered to think how much worse it would have been for him, where he'd known Optimus for longer.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ironhide decided to head for the wash racks first. As much as he wanted to get those reports done for Prowl, he'd just remembered what an absolute mess he'd left his quarters. He wanted to see if he could get Chromia settled in the wash racks, then sneak out ahead of her and clean them up a bit. Not that he was worried about making a good impression or anything, but he wouldn't have even let Optimus into his quarters, the way they were - the Autobots had been scrambling to defend against the Decepticons for the past few orns, leaving him unable to clean up.
Unfortunately for Ironhide, it turned out that Chromia had absolutely no clue what to do in a public wash rack. She'd only washed privately before, with the help of a few priests. So Ironhide had to stick around and explain things to her as he scrubbed himself down. Fortunately, they were alone in the wash racks, so he didn't have to be very covert about it. When they finally finished, Ironhide reluctantly led the way back to his quarters.
"Wow," Chromia said dryly, turning and giving him an arched look after she stepped inside. Various weapons, and parts thereof, were littered around the room, datapads with schematics hidden amongst the mess, along with polishing cloths and a few empty energon cubes. The large couch had only enough clear space on it for him to sit, and the accompanying low table had boxes haphazardly shoved underneath containing data crystals and tools. Most of the surfaces had some type of grease stains on them - the only completely clear, and clean, space was the berth.
"I've been busy," Ironhide grumbled as Chromia slowly picked her way over to the berth, sitting gingerly.
"I can see that," Chromia replied mildly, looking meaningfully at the clutter, and Ironhide glared at her before beginning to neaten up. When he found a blank datapad, he tossed it to the watching femme, telling her to make herself useful and write the report for Prowl. A few minutes later, she poked him tentatively through the bond.
"What?" he snapped, trying to figure out where to put a half-finished cannon upgrade he was working on.
"Since you're so touchy about your privacy, I thought I'd ask for an example of how to write a report," Chromia said. Ironhide, still a bit sore about her initial comments on the state of his quarters, looked over at her with a smirk.
"So you can learn without breaking into a mech's processor," he said.
"Oh frag off," she retorted, throwing the datapad at his head. Ironhide chuckled and returned to neatening up.
---
Eventually, Ironhide got around to writing his report for Prowl, then wrote one up for Chromia, too - she didn't have the experience with neutrals or anything around Kaon to write it properly, much to her own irritation. She re-wrote the report once Ironhide finished, of course, using her own language. Once she was done, Ironhide told her to stay put and went to drop the reports off.
"Thank you, Ironhide," Prowl acknowledged with a nod as the weapons specialist gave him the two datapads. "By the way. I realized I forgot to ask for combat specifications for Chromia. While Optimus has given you both half an orn off, I would like to make use of the time to determine the best unit for Chromia to be placed with." Ironhide froze, suddenly realizing the massive, gaping flaw in his cover story. If Chromia could fight, she would be expected to go into battle - where he couldn't protect her.
~You're just realizing that now?~ Chromia said with amusement over the bond. Ironhide just growled in response, shoving her out as he turned his full attention to Prowl.
"Er - Chromia doesn't have any combat specifications at the moment. The slaggin neutrals had to practically rebuild her, and they took out all her combat upgrades when they did."
"I assume she'll be getting those upgrades replaced?" Prowl said patiently, and Ironhide nodded. "Then you should have some idea of her specifications for me to work with."
"Uh, well, see, thing about femmes, they're kinda unpredictable," Ironhide said in a rush. "I have no slaggin clue what that femme is gonna want for upgrades when it comes down to it - she could completely change what she had."
"I...see," Prowl replied slowly.
"I'll letcha know once she decides, though," Ironhide concluded cheerfully, then fled Prowl's office. Stalking back to his quarters, he was arguing with Chromia before he even reached them. ~You knew that you were gonna have to fight, and you didn't mention this problem?~
~The moment I left the Temple, it was set that I would end up fighting, one way or another,~ Chromia said reasonably. ~There were a multitude of reasons and ways that it would come about. This cover story of yours was the most desirable out of all the ones I saw.~
~The most desirable to who? You?~ Ironhide snarled.
~Yes.~
~Well it ain't desirable to me!~
~Unfortunately for you, through your own actions, and through the deaths of my priests, I have ceased to be a pretty bauble that does as told. I can, and am, thinking for myself for the first time in my life - which, I'll remind you, has been longer than yours,~ Chromia snapped. ~I'd like to think that a thousand vorns of service to the Cybertronian people, serving as their link to Primus, has given me the right to chose my own future.~
~And so you chose a future that involves fighting? This war isn't a pleasant thing, femme. No war ever is -~
~I know that! I have seen it!~ Chromia hissed, interrupting Ironhide. ~You do not grasp just what my gift has shown me! I saw Megatron massacring the senate, in vivid detail, before it happened! I have seen every major battle of this war, whether or not it has happened! I have seen mechs have parts ripped out and crushed, seen mechs get ripped apart. Fraggit Ironhide, I need only to look at an Autobot or Decepticon to see how they will die. Do you think that such visions are all sunshine and high-grade? Because they aren't. They are a never-ending display of death and carnage, tragedies that I cannot prevent. Not unless I do something - and unfortunately, sitting around spouting prophecies no longer counts as doing something. This war is so far out of control that the only way I can affect the future anymore is with my own actions and decisions. Everyone else is set on their path - even you.~
Ironhide opened the door to his quarters, stepping inside and meeting Chromia's furious glare. Silence hung between them as the door slid shut behind him.
"There is a difference between seeing fighting, seeing killing, and doing it yourself," Ironhide rumbled finally, giving Chromia a piercing look, willing her to understand that he wasn't chastising her. He had sworn an oath to protect her, and in his processor, that didn't just mean from physical harm. Chromia looked away.
"Refusal to fight on my part will only lead to your death," she said finally, softly. "And I will not be responsible for the death of anyone else through my own inaction." Ironhide grimaced, stepping over to the femme and resting a hand on her shoulder. In response, she stepped forward and latched onto him, hugging him tightly and hiding her face against his shoulder. Ironhide had no idea what to say - he couldn't really tell her it wasn't her fault, because they'd already been over that, and she'd pretty much admitted that she could have saved some of her priests if she'd tried. She'd chosen not to, though. So Ironhide just stood there, holding her and letting her hold onto him.
In the end, it was a comm ping that made her draw away, a confused look on her face as she spoke on her internal comms turning into a frown, and then a grin as she looked up at Ironhide.
"It seems Ratchet has been made aware of the fact that I need combat upgrades, and would like me to return to med bay to sort them out," she said, and Ironhide winced.
"Fraggin Prowl doesn't waste any time," he said, and Chromia laughed, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him towards the door.
"Come on, I'm going to need help deciding what to get," she said gleefully, and Ironhide groaned.