[IDW] Marry Me - Chapter Thirteen
Universe: IDW, MTMTE
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus/Swerve, Rodimus, Megatron, Tailgate, Rewind, Lost Light Ensemble
Rated K+ for this chapter
In which Rodimus gives the performance of a lifetime while Swerve and Minimus Ambus take one for the team. Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "Marry You," Bruno Mars
Marry Me - Chapter Thirteen
Minimus was glad that he'd left planning and preparation to someone else. While it would have served as a healthy distraction, he feared his current scattered thinking would have resulted in a mess. As it was, he could barely keep his thoughts in order. He was nervous.
Minimus was accustomed to being anxious at least. He longed for the Magnus Armor. He would have felt far more confident within the frame he'd worn for countless centuries. Ultra Magnus would not falter. He would not be anxious.
Minimus Ambus, however, could not stop pacing.
It didn't matter that he'd been polished and waxed to a sheen. He'd been given an updated paint job, courtesy of Rodimus, and had been pleasantly surprised that it hadn't been done with a flourish and flames and all manner of atrocious things. He gleamed in a tasteful way. He looked younger and more confident.
His spark, however, squirmed. He paced, something that seemed slow and measured, but inside, he was panicking.
Was this a mistake? He and Swerve had chosen to do this, but Minimus still worried. He'd agreed to give this a try, to make something out of their fake relationship. But what if his feelings were as false as their plot? What if in the end, he'd fallen for his own lie?
Minimus didn't want to hurt Swerve. He knew this much for certain. He cared for Swerve as a mech. He would never want to break Swerve's spark. But he was terrified of getting this wrong, of making a mistake.
But mostly, he feared that it wasn't a mistake. That he was taking this vow and it wasn't born of falsehood. That it was real, and Primus, Minimus did not want to lose this, lose Swerve. There was a chance for happiness. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
Fear gripped his spark. Because he was Minimus, not Magnus, and Minimus was a coward. A Primal Vanguard wash-out worth nothing save for the loadbearer spark that gave him the gift of the Magnus Armor.
I like you no matter what form you take.
Minimus shook and hoped neither of his attendants noticed. Though it was almost laughable to call them attendants. While Ultra Magnus had few friends, Minimus Ambus had even less. So he was left with Rodimus and Megatron to serve as attendants and what that said about Minimus that the former leader of the Decepticons was his “mech of honor” for his commitment ceremony, Minimus didn't know.
“Are you all right?” Rodimus asked.
“Of course he's not all right,” Megatron cut in before Minimus could so much as open his mouth. Megatron snorted and leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Given this farce you've forced him into.”
“He volunteered,” Rodimus countered.
“You gave him little other choice,” Megatron retorted.
They glared at each other. Minimus sighed and pinched his olfactory sensor with a hand. Both mechs towered over him, but he suddenly felt the largest mech in the room. He was certainly the oldest and more mature. Neither of them were helping his anxiety.
“Gentlemechs, please,” Minimus said, palming his face. His spark wouldn't stop cycling and his limbs felt cold.
“Sorry, Minimus.” Rodimus, at least, sounded contrite. He tried to offer Minimus a smile. One hand touched the top of his chestplate within inches of the bomb, but never quite brushing it. “What do you need us to do?”
“Argue less for one,” he said and then gave them both a wan smile. “And tell me the plan is going to work.”
Rodimus thrust himself to his pedes and clasped Minimus by the shoulders. He looked down into Minimus' optics and said, with all the certainty Rodimus seemed to have in spades, “This is going to work. My spark depends on it.”
Minimus cycled a ventilation. “Thank you.”
“And if it doesn't, then none of us will ever have to worry again,” Megatron added in a dry tone.
Which didn't help matters at all. Thanks, Megatron. Thanks a lot.
0o0o0
Swerve had never been more nervous in his entire functioning.
He paced back and forth, wearing a path in the floor. He gleamed and sparkled like new. Between Tailgate and Rewind, they made certain that he looked amazing for his wedding day. He'd been polished and detailed until his armor gleamed and all the little details shone. He'd even been given a repaint and all of the scratches buffed out of his paint. And Swerve couldn't even tell them that it was only half-real.
His fingers twisted together. His ventilations came far too fast for his comfort. His processor kept spinning. He swore he was overheating.
In the distance, he could hear music. He knew that Exelon and Cybertronian alike were running around together, preparing the ballroom to house the ceremony. Tradition had demanded that Swerve and Minimus - no Magnus Armor for the wedding - would be separate until they met at the altar. That only made Swerve's anxieties double.
He was used to Ultra Magnus being there to answer his questions and to reassure him. All he had right now were Tailgate and Rewind and neither of them knew the truth.
Swerve paced back and forth, thoughts peppering inside his head faster than he could answer them.
He was getting married. To Ultra Magnus. To Minimus. For real. Or half-real anyway. It was part of a ruse, but it felt real to Swerve because they had made this decision together. They decided to do this for Rodimus.
But once the ruse was over, what then? What if Ultra Magnus figured out how much of a mistake he had made and decided to go through with the annulment ceremony? What if this was as much of a lie as Swerve feared it was?
What if he screwed it up? What if he scared Ultra Magnus away? What if he ended up alone again with only the failed echoes of a relationship in his dreams?
Swerve's panic intensified. His spark pulsed so fast it made him dizzy. His visor flared. He really thought he might lose consciousness here and now.
“This kind of nervousness is normal,” Rewind kept saying. “I remember when me and Domey were waiting to take our vows. We weren't separate like this, but Chromedome wouldn't stop pacing and my camcorder kept glitching. But in the end, it was perfect.” He gave a little sigh and Swerve could all but see the little sparks dancing over his head.
Tailgate clapped his hands together, his own visor burning with happiness. “It's very romantic,” he said. “I can't wait until it's my turn.”
Neither of them were helping.
Swerve looked at his chronometer. There was still some time left to go. He resumed pacing, fingers twisting and twisting together.
Please Primus let this work. Let them save Rodimus properly and get the frag off this planet. Let this be real. Let Ultra Magnus not regret it. Let Swerve be happy.
Please.
0o0o0
He thought his nervousness would ease the moment the ceremony began, but it didn't. As more witnesses filed into the ballroom and filled the seats, Minimus' spark pulsed faster and faster. He peered through the doorway, watching the Exelons chat among themselves. The crew of the Lost Light were equally thrilled. It had been a long time since any of them had seen a commitment ceremony.
Rodimus was already waiting on the stage, shifting from pede to pede as time ticked closer toward start. Perceptor, Minimus knew, was nearby, on call for his opportunity. Hound was in the front row of the witnesses, holographic array prepped to provide cover for Perceptor.
It was all of their hopes that the Exelons would be paying attention to the happy couple and not Rodimus. Hound could cover Perceptor, but not for long, and the activation of the array would cause a brief, but noticeable ripple in the atmosphere. That second would be crucial.
Minimus worked his intake. His fuel tanks churned. This had to work.
His chronometer ticked forward. It chimed. It was time to start.
Minimus strode out from his hiding place, Megatron in tow to serve as his primary witness in the same way that Tailgate would be serving as Swerve's. Rewind had chosen to document the occasion.
Minimus was not unaccustomed to being the center of attention, but it felt odd to be so without the Magnus Armor attached to his frame. He felt very, very small and did his best to plant a smile on his face. After all, it was meant to be the happiest day of his life. He was being promised to another and receiving a promise in return.
Except he couldn't see Swerve.
His intended had not emerged from the staging area and Tailgate was nowhere in sight. Rewind was already in position, ready to record, but there was no sign of Swerve.
Minimus faltered, head sweeping to the left and right as he searched for signs of his intended. He heard the whispers pick up from the crowd of onlookers. Panic started to settle into his spark.
Had Swerve changed his mind? Had he decided he couldn't go through with this after all? What would the Exelons do if Swerve didn't show up?
The door opposite slid open just then. Tailgate stepped out, his faceplate lit up with happiness as he all but bounced on his pedes. Just behind him was Swerve and Minimus felt his ventilations hitch.
Swerve, like Minimus, had been polished and painted within an inch of his spark. He looked beautiful. His hands were shaking, Minimus could tell this from a distance. There was a shine to his visor that suggested his own nervousness, but he looked happy, too. He had a warm glow about him, and his field was tangible even across the distance.
He hadn't changed his mind after all.
Minimus couldn't stop staring at Swerve. His frame felt overly hot and he had to remind his cooling fans to cycle.
Swerve joined him on the stage and smiled. “Sorry,” he whispered with a quick glance to their audience, “I stumbled and scratched my paint and Tailgate told me I couldn't go out like that even if it meant I was late.”
Well, that was a relief.
Minimus reached for his hands. “I understand. This day is supposed to be perfect, right?”
“In every way,” Swerve breathed.
Their hands touched and Minimus received his first taste of Swerve's field. It was indeed a bubbly burst of joy and affection. His thumbs swept over Minimus' palms. His hands squeezed tight, for all that they were shaking. His paint gleamed.
Just what had Minimus been afraid of?
A hush swept through the crowd. All eyes and optics were on them and Minimus couldn't be bothered to care. This felt real, for however long it lasted, and he was glad that chance had tipped the scales toward Swerve.
“Are you two ready?” Rodimus asked.
Minimus turned toward his captain and smiled. “I am.”
“Me, too.” Swerve squeezed Minimus' hands and grinned.
“Great!” Rodimus looked a whole lot happier suddenly as he clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms. “Then let's get this show on the road.” He noisily rebooted his vocalizer and raised his hands. “Femmes and mechs and Cybertronians and Exelons, if I could have your attention please, this happy couple would like to begin their commitment ceremony.”
The hush turned into silence. Somewhere, Minimus could hear soft music playing, a romantic little ditty without words. The tune was familiar though Minimus could not immediately place the title or composer. It added to the atmosphere of the moment.
Minimus and Swerve turned toward Rodimus. Minimus' left hand was clasped in Swerve's right as tradition dictated.
“Now,” Rodimus said with a beaming smile, putting on a performance the likes of which none of them had ever seen. “Today is a celebration, my friends. A celebration of love, of commitment, of friendship and family, and two mechs who are in it for the long haul.”
Minimus glanced at Swerve and caught his intended sneaking a glance at him as well. The corners of Swerve's mouth were curved with a smile and he was all but trembling. But it was the happiness in his field that spoke the loudest.
“Because despite our differences, love is what we all share,” Rodimus continued, making grand gestures with his hands now. He paced back and forth in front of Swerve and Minimus, performing for them as much he was for the audience. “It's the great unifier, a cosmic truth, till all are one, if you will.”
Minimus groaned and resisted the urge to facepalm. He knew Swerve must have felt the same. He wondered who'd won that bet, because surely the crew had been taking wagers on how long it would be before Rodimus spouted what was quickly becoming a catch-phrase.
A ripple of chuckling rose from the audience, but it was there and gone again and seriousness returned.
Rodimus grinned and tossed Minimus a wink.
“No matter who we are, where we've come from, what we believe, we all know this one truth,” Rodimus continued. “Love is what we share. It's what we're doing right.”
He stood between Minimus and Swerve now and placed one hand on Swerve's left shoulder and the other on Minimus' right. He looked them right in the optics.
“That's why you, Swerve and Minimus Ambus, are standing here today,” he said in a tone that might have been solemn if Minimus squinted.
Rodimus patted them and then gestured to the audience as a whole. “That's why all of you are here as well. Watching these two stand before me ready to make a commitment. Have we all not loved in our lifetimes? Loved and lost?”
Rodimus began to pace again, a slow and measured walk back and forth across the stage. In the background, the music grew a bit louder. Someone dimmed the lights. Minimus colored himself impressed.
“In this moment, we are reminded that the ability to love is the very part of us that burns brightest,” Rodimus said and he raised his hands to the sky, only to clench them and draw them back to his flame-covered chassis. “It is what separates us, what defines our spark.”
Behind Minimus, Megatron reset his vocalizer and politely coughed into his fist. It was as if he were subtly telling Rodimus to hurry up. Or not so subtly. Rodimus was giving the performance of the lifetime. Minimus was simultaneously touched and amused. Swerve looked as though he didn't know what to say.
Rodimus' spoiler twitched. He returned to the stage, taking his position up once again. He looked Swerve and Minimus in the optics and clasped his hands together in front of his abdominal plating.
“You fell in love by chance,” he said, “but you're here today because you are both making a choice. You are choosing each other. You are choosing to be with someone who enhances you, who makes you think, makes you smile and makes every day brighter just by sharing it with you.”
Minimus blinked. Surely those beautiful words weren't coming from Rodimus? They weren't quite the traditional script Minimus was used to hearing, but they were somehow better. More from the spark.
“Love is like that, you know,” Rodimus said and there was something soft in his vocals now, as though he had taken the words personally. “It comes from humble beginnings and through a combination of serendipity and effort, imperfect beings shape it into something extraordinary. It's the process of making something beautiful when there was nothing at all. Something beautiful like the couple you see standing here today.”
Minimus' spark throbbed. He smiled before he could help himself. Imperfect beings. It resonated strongly with him.
“Now are you two prepared to publicly declare your commitment?” Rodimus asked.
Minimus nodded. “I am.”
“Me, too,” Swerve said with a nervous grin. His hand squeezed Magnus' once more.
“Great!” Rodimus gestured to each of them with a hand. “Turn toward one another. Swerve, place your right hand over Minimus' spark and Minimus, you place your right hand on Swerve's spark.”
They did so and chose to clasp their left hands together. It wasn't technically part of the ceremony, but it did leave them feeling more connected. Looking right at each other highlighted how happy Swerve was, even if Minimus had to tilt his helm just a little.
He could feel the rapid pulsing of Swerve's spark beneath his fingertips and wondered if Swerve could feel his own as well. Minimus was both elated and nervous and he felt that it showed. The weight of their witnesses seemed to crowd on his shoulders.
“Recognize the weight of the sparks beneath your fingers,” Rodimus continued as he brought his hands together, clasping them. “Recognize the responsibility that you will bear and share. Recognize that once you take your vows, these are the hands that will lift each other up.”
Minimus nodded and Swerve echoed him. They shared another glance and heat flooded Minimus' faceplate. In the background, the music went soft again. He all but heard the audience hold their collective breath and ventilations.
Rodimus looked at Minimus first, as the elder in the partnership, “Will you, Minimus Ambus, keep Swerve as your favorite person - to laugh with him, to go on adventures with him, to support him through life's tough moments. We've had so many of those after all. And do you vow to be proud of him, to age with him, and find new reasons to love him every day?”
Minimus worked his intake. He licked his lips. “I will,” he said. It wasn't even the hardest thing he'd ever promised.
Rodimus winked and turned to Swerve. “And will you, Swerve, keep--”
“I will!” Swerve blurted out, loud enough to echo in the ballroom and completely override Rodimus' recitation of the vows. His face instantly flooded with color and he ducked his helm.
Swerve squeezed Minimus' hand and looked him straight in the optic. “I mean,” he murmured with a cycled ventilation. “Yes, I will. I'll do all those things. For you. For both of you.”
Both of you.
Of course Swerve would remember how much Minimus felt torn between himself and the Magnus Armor. How he struggled to define himself and how he didn't want to lose either.
Minimus smiled, and it was the largest, most genuine smile he can ever remember himself giving. “Thank you, Swerve,” he murmured.
Swerve beamed back at him.
Rodimus coughed into his hand. “You two are precious,” he said. “Will you, Swerve and Minimus Ambus, vow to be each other's partners from this day forward? Will you bring out the best in one another, share your happiest moments together, and love each other absolutely - for the rest of this lifetime and in the Well thereafter?”
Minimus' hand shook as he tightened his grip on Swerve's. He felt Swerve squeeze him in return, their fields rising and mingling together. It began to feel more and more real with each passing moment.
“We will,” Swerve and Minimus said together, in perfect unison. They couldn't have planned it better if they tried.
Minimus repeated the words to himself, meeting and keeping Swerve's gaze as he did so. I will, he vowed, to both himself and to Swerve.
He wanted to try his hardest to make this work. He knew that Swerve felt the same.
“You are now one,” Rodimus said, his vocals humbled. He stepped closer and rested his hands over their joined ones. “May your bond bring to you every excitement. May you need each other always, not out of weakness, but out of joy. May you want one another always. May you look for things to praise, to lift each other higher, and ignore the smaller faults. May you have happiness and find it in each other. May you always have love, and find it in loving one another.”
Rodimus squeezed and then released their hands. He grinned and lifted his chain. “By the power invested in me as captain of this starship, I now pronounce you conjunx endura,” he declared with a resounding echo in the ballroom. “May your bond prove stronger with each passing cycle and may your love never dim.” He brought his hands together with a defining clap.
Swerve grinned.
Minimus did, too.
They leaned toward each other and shared their first kiss as a bonded couple. Swerve's lips trembled as they pressed against his and he ex-vented warmth down against Minimus. It sent a shiver down Minimus' spinal strut and though he knew they wouldn't be having a 'honeymoon' so to speak, it filled Minimus with heat.
Their arms wrapped around each other and the kiss deepened, Minimus daring to introduce his glossa and taste Swerve's joy for his own.
They might have continued if not for Skids activating the gong that announced the end of the ceremony and the successful conclusion of commitment. Minimus broke apart from Swerve with an embarrassed tilt of his helm. Swerve was too busy grinning to look ashamed.
His hand slid down Minimus' arm and linked their fingers together. They turned toward the crowd and bowed as one. They were officially legally bonded. Were this a true bonding, Minimus would be changing their registered designations in the database. He would go to First Aid and tell him to change their medical records.
If his hopes held true, Minimus would still be doing those things. Only with genuine honesty behind it.
“Now, to recognize and celebrate the new couple, there's a reception in the dining hall,” Rodimus announced. “Hope to see you all there!”
The chimes continued to sound. The crowd began to murmur as everyone rose from their seats. No doubt the prospect of free snacks and celebration drew them.
Minimus turned back toward Rodimus.
“That was beautiful, Rodimus,” he whispered, all at once in awe of his captain, who he never expected was capable of anything well-meaning.
Rodimus' face visibly heated. He ducked his helm and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks,” he said. “I, uh, looked it up, you know. I mean, this is fake and all, but I still wanted to do it right.”
The urge to hug Rodimus in that moment was almost overwhelming. Minimus refrained, lest Rodimus think it okay in the future, but he did grab Rodimus' hand for a hearty shake.
“It was,” Swerve agreed with a hearty nod of his head. “It, um, almost made me cry. Thanks.”
“From both of us,” Minimus added, and he meant it. He was impressed. “You did a good job.”
Rodimus beamed at him. His field spiked with warmth and pleasure. Rodimus was, as always, so very susceptible to genuine praise.
“I know,” he said, in a flash back to his usual cocky self, but that brief moment of humility had been beautiful in itself. He squeezed Minimus' hand. “So let's get this reception over with and get the Pit off Exelon before anything else happens. Deal?”
Minimus blinked. “Wait. It worked?”
Rodimus flashed him a thumbs-up. “Sure thing. Especially since you didn't even notice. Then again, you really only had optics for Swerve.” He nudged Minimus with an elbow.
Swerve chuckled. “It was part of the show, right?” he asked, ducking his head. He inched closer to Minimus, their sides pressing together.
“Of course it was!” Rodimus clapped them both on the shoulder. He all but vibrated with relief. “Thanks to both of you, my spark is saved, your sparks are saved, everyone's sparks are saved.”
Minimus smiled. “I think Perceptor had a little something to do with it,” he commented in a dry tone.
“And Brainstorm,” Swerve added with a laugh.
Rodimus rolled his optics. “Yeah, yeah. The two nerds, too. Now, come on. Let's go before the Exelons get suspicious and shoot us out of orbit or something.”
Minimus wouldn't put it past them. He also made a mental note to mark Exelon Five as a place for no Cybertronian to visit. Ever.
There was only one more performance left to give.
***
A/n: I've adapted this http://offbeatbride.com/2015/02/nontraditional-non-religious-wedding-ceremony-script for the wedding ceremony.
I am very, very proud of this chapter. It's too cute and funny.
Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated.
Two more chapters to go!. This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/313651.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.
Characters this chapter: Ultra Magnus/Swerve, Rodimus, Megatron, Tailgate, Rewind, Lost Light Ensemble
Rated K+ for this chapter
In which Rodimus gives the performance of a lifetime while Swerve and Minimus Ambus take one for the team. Commission Gift Fic for nothumanafterall.
Mood Music/Soundtrack - "Marry You," Bruno Mars
Marry Me - Chapter Thirteen
Minimus was glad that he'd left planning and preparation to someone else. While it would have served as a healthy distraction, he feared his current scattered thinking would have resulted in a mess. As it was, he could barely keep his thoughts in order. He was nervous.
Minimus was accustomed to being anxious at least. He longed for the Magnus Armor. He would have felt far more confident within the frame he'd worn for countless centuries. Ultra Magnus would not falter. He would not be anxious.
Minimus Ambus, however, could not stop pacing.
It didn't matter that he'd been polished and waxed to a sheen. He'd been given an updated paint job, courtesy of Rodimus, and had been pleasantly surprised that it hadn't been done with a flourish and flames and all manner of atrocious things. He gleamed in a tasteful way. He looked younger and more confident.
His spark, however, squirmed. He paced, something that seemed slow and measured, but inside, he was panicking.
Was this a mistake? He and Swerve had chosen to do this, but Minimus still worried. He'd agreed to give this a try, to make something out of their fake relationship. But what if his feelings were as false as their plot? What if in the end, he'd fallen for his own lie?
Minimus didn't want to hurt Swerve. He knew this much for certain. He cared for Swerve as a mech. He would never want to break Swerve's spark. But he was terrified of getting this wrong, of making a mistake.
But mostly, he feared that it wasn't a mistake. That he was taking this vow and it wasn't born of falsehood. That it was real, and Primus, Minimus did not want to lose this, lose Swerve. There was a chance for happiness. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
Fear gripped his spark. Because he was Minimus, not Magnus, and Minimus was a coward. A Primal Vanguard wash-out worth nothing save for the loadbearer spark that gave him the gift of the Magnus Armor.
I like you no matter what form you take.
Minimus shook and hoped neither of his attendants noticed. Though it was almost laughable to call them attendants. While Ultra Magnus had few friends, Minimus Ambus had even less. So he was left with Rodimus and Megatron to serve as attendants and what that said about Minimus that the former leader of the Decepticons was his “mech of honor” for his commitment ceremony, Minimus didn't know.
“Are you all right?” Rodimus asked.
“Of course he's not all right,” Megatron cut in before Minimus could so much as open his mouth. Megatron snorted and leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Given this farce you've forced him into.”
“He volunteered,” Rodimus countered.
“You gave him little other choice,” Megatron retorted.
They glared at each other. Minimus sighed and pinched his olfactory sensor with a hand. Both mechs towered over him, but he suddenly felt the largest mech in the room. He was certainly the oldest and more mature. Neither of them were helping his anxiety.
“Gentlemechs, please,” Minimus said, palming his face. His spark wouldn't stop cycling and his limbs felt cold.
“Sorry, Minimus.” Rodimus, at least, sounded contrite. He tried to offer Minimus a smile. One hand touched the top of his chestplate within inches of the bomb, but never quite brushing it. “What do you need us to do?”
“Argue less for one,” he said and then gave them both a wan smile. “And tell me the plan is going to work.”
Rodimus thrust himself to his pedes and clasped Minimus by the shoulders. He looked down into Minimus' optics and said, with all the certainty Rodimus seemed to have in spades, “This is going to work. My spark depends on it.”
Minimus cycled a ventilation. “Thank you.”
“And if it doesn't, then none of us will ever have to worry again,” Megatron added in a dry tone.
Which didn't help matters at all. Thanks, Megatron. Thanks a lot.
0o0o0
Swerve had never been more nervous in his entire functioning.
He paced back and forth, wearing a path in the floor. He gleamed and sparkled like new. Between Tailgate and Rewind, they made certain that he looked amazing for his wedding day. He'd been polished and detailed until his armor gleamed and all the little details shone. He'd even been given a repaint and all of the scratches buffed out of his paint. And Swerve couldn't even tell them that it was only half-real.
His fingers twisted together. His ventilations came far too fast for his comfort. His processor kept spinning. He swore he was overheating.
In the distance, he could hear music. He knew that Exelon and Cybertronian alike were running around together, preparing the ballroom to house the ceremony. Tradition had demanded that Swerve and Minimus - no Magnus Armor for the wedding - would be separate until they met at the altar. That only made Swerve's anxieties double.
He was used to Ultra Magnus being there to answer his questions and to reassure him. All he had right now were Tailgate and Rewind and neither of them knew the truth.
Swerve paced back and forth, thoughts peppering inside his head faster than he could answer them.
He was getting married. To Ultra Magnus. To Minimus. For real. Or half-real anyway. It was part of a ruse, but it felt real to Swerve because they had made this decision together. They decided to do this for Rodimus.
But once the ruse was over, what then? What if Ultra Magnus figured out how much of a mistake he had made and decided to go through with the annulment ceremony? What if this was as much of a lie as Swerve feared it was?
What if he screwed it up? What if he scared Ultra Magnus away? What if he ended up alone again with only the failed echoes of a relationship in his dreams?
Swerve's panic intensified. His spark pulsed so fast it made him dizzy. His visor flared. He really thought he might lose consciousness here and now.
“This kind of nervousness is normal,” Rewind kept saying. “I remember when me and Domey were waiting to take our vows. We weren't separate like this, but Chromedome wouldn't stop pacing and my camcorder kept glitching. But in the end, it was perfect.” He gave a little sigh and Swerve could all but see the little sparks dancing over his head.
Tailgate clapped his hands together, his own visor burning with happiness. “It's very romantic,” he said. “I can't wait until it's my turn.”
Neither of them were helping.
Swerve looked at his chronometer. There was still some time left to go. He resumed pacing, fingers twisting and twisting together.
Please Primus let this work. Let them save Rodimus properly and get the frag off this planet. Let this be real. Let Ultra Magnus not regret it. Let Swerve be happy.
Please.
0o0o0
He thought his nervousness would ease the moment the ceremony began, but it didn't. As more witnesses filed into the ballroom and filled the seats, Minimus' spark pulsed faster and faster. He peered through the doorway, watching the Exelons chat among themselves. The crew of the Lost Light were equally thrilled. It had been a long time since any of them had seen a commitment ceremony.
Rodimus was already waiting on the stage, shifting from pede to pede as time ticked closer toward start. Perceptor, Minimus knew, was nearby, on call for his opportunity. Hound was in the front row of the witnesses, holographic array prepped to provide cover for Perceptor.
It was all of their hopes that the Exelons would be paying attention to the happy couple and not Rodimus. Hound could cover Perceptor, but not for long, and the activation of the array would cause a brief, but noticeable ripple in the atmosphere. That second would be crucial.
Minimus worked his intake. His fuel tanks churned. This had to work.
His chronometer ticked forward. It chimed. It was time to start.
Minimus strode out from his hiding place, Megatron in tow to serve as his primary witness in the same way that Tailgate would be serving as Swerve's. Rewind had chosen to document the occasion.
Minimus was not unaccustomed to being the center of attention, but it felt odd to be so without the Magnus Armor attached to his frame. He felt very, very small and did his best to plant a smile on his face. After all, it was meant to be the happiest day of his life. He was being promised to another and receiving a promise in return.
Except he couldn't see Swerve.
His intended had not emerged from the staging area and Tailgate was nowhere in sight. Rewind was already in position, ready to record, but there was no sign of Swerve.
Minimus faltered, head sweeping to the left and right as he searched for signs of his intended. He heard the whispers pick up from the crowd of onlookers. Panic started to settle into his spark.
Had Swerve changed his mind? Had he decided he couldn't go through with this after all? What would the Exelons do if Swerve didn't show up?
The door opposite slid open just then. Tailgate stepped out, his faceplate lit up with happiness as he all but bounced on his pedes. Just behind him was Swerve and Minimus felt his ventilations hitch.
Swerve, like Minimus, had been polished and painted within an inch of his spark. He looked beautiful. His hands were shaking, Minimus could tell this from a distance. There was a shine to his visor that suggested his own nervousness, but he looked happy, too. He had a warm glow about him, and his field was tangible even across the distance.
He hadn't changed his mind after all.
Minimus couldn't stop staring at Swerve. His frame felt overly hot and he had to remind his cooling fans to cycle.
Swerve joined him on the stage and smiled. “Sorry,” he whispered with a quick glance to their audience, “I stumbled and scratched my paint and Tailgate told me I couldn't go out like that even if it meant I was late.”
Well, that was a relief.
Minimus reached for his hands. “I understand. This day is supposed to be perfect, right?”
“In every way,” Swerve breathed.
Their hands touched and Minimus received his first taste of Swerve's field. It was indeed a bubbly burst of joy and affection. His thumbs swept over Minimus' palms. His hands squeezed tight, for all that they were shaking. His paint gleamed.
Just what had Minimus been afraid of?
A hush swept through the crowd. All eyes and optics were on them and Minimus couldn't be bothered to care. This felt real, for however long it lasted, and he was glad that chance had tipped the scales toward Swerve.
“Are you two ready?” Rodimus asked.
Minimus turned toward his captain and smiled. “I am.”
“Me, too.” Swerve squeezed Minimus' hands and grinned.
“Great!” Rodimus looked a whole lot happier suddenly as he clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms. “Then let's get this show on the road.” He noisily rebooted his vocalizer and raised his hands. “Femmes and mechs and Cybertronians and Exelons, if I could have your attention please, this happy couple would like to begin their commitment ceremony.”
The hush turned into silence. Somewhere, Minimus could hear soft music playing, a romantic little ditty without words. The tune was familiar though Minimus could not immediately place the title or composer. It added to the atmosphere of the moment.
Minimus and Swerve turned toward Rodimus. Minimus' left hand was clasped in Swerve's right as tradition dictated.
“Now,” Rodimus said with a beaming smile, putting on a performance the likes of which none of them had ever seen. “Today is a celebration, my friends. A celebration of love, of commitment, of friendship and family, and two mechs who are in it for the long haul.”
Minimus glanced at Swerve and caught his intended sneaking a glance at him as well. The corners of Swerve's mouth were curved with a smile and he was all but trembling. But it was the happiness in his field that spoke the loudest.
“Because despite our differences, love is what we all share,” Rodimus continued, making grand gestures with his hands now. He paced back and forth in front of Swerve and Minimus, performing for them as much he was for the audience. “It's the great unifier, a cosmic truth, till all are one, if you will.”
Minimus groaned and resisted the urge to facepalm. He knew Swerve must have felt the same. He wondered who'd won that bet, because surely the crew had been taking wagers on how long it would be before Rodimus spouted what was quickly becoming a catch-phrase.
A ripple of chuckling rose from the audience, but it was there and gone again and seriousness returned.
Rodimus grinned and tossed Minimus a wink.
“No matter who we are, where we've come from, what we believe, we all know this one truth,” Rodimus continued. “Love is what we share. It's what we're doing right.”
He stood between Minimus and Swerve now and placed one hand on Swerve's left shoulder and the other on Minimus' right. He looked them right in the optics.
“That's why you, Swerve and Minimus Ambus, are standing here today,” he said in a tone that might have been solemn if Minimus squinted.
Rodimus patted them and then gestured to the audience as a whole. “That's why all of you are here as well. Watching these two stand before me ready to make a commitment. Have we all not loved in our lifetimes? Loved and lost?”
Rodimus began to pace again, a slow and measured walk back and forth across the stage. In the background, the music grew a bit louder. Someone dimmed the lights. Minimus colored himself impressed.
“In this moment, we are reminded that the ability to love is the very part of us that burns brightest,” Rodimus said and he raised his hands to the sky, only to clench them and draw them back to his flame-covered chassis. “It is what separates us, what defines our spark.”
Behind Minimus, Megatron reset his vocalizer and politely coughed into his fist. It was as if he were subtly telling Rodimus to hurry up. Or not so subtly. Rodimus was giving the performance of the lifetime. Minimus was simultaneously touched and amused. Swerve looked as though he didn't know what to say.
Rodimus' spoiler twitched. He returned to the stage, taking his position up once again. He looked Swerve and Minimus in the optics and clasped his hands together in front of his abdominal plating.
“You fell in love by chance,” he said, “but you're here today because you are both making a choice. You are choosing each other. You are choosing to be with someone who enhances you, who makes you think, makes you smile and makes every day brighter just by sharing it with you.”
Minimus blinked. Surely those beautiful words weren't coming from Rodimus? They weren't quite the traditional script Minimus was used to hearing, but they were somehow better. More from the spark.
“Love is like that, you know,” Rodimus said and there was something soft in his vocals now, as though he had taken the words personally. “It comes from humble beginnings and through a combination of serendipity and effort, imperfect beings shape it into something extraordinary. It's the process of making something beautiful when there was nothing at all. Something beautiful like the couple you see standing here today.”
Minimus' spark throbbed. He smiled before he could help himself. Imperfect beings. It resonated strongly with him.
“Now are you two prepared to publicly declare your commitment?” Rodimus asked.
Minimus nodded. “I am.”
“Me, too,” Swerve said with a nervous grin. His hand squeezed Magnus' once more.
“Great!” Rodimus gestured to each of them with a hand. “Turn toward one another. Swerve, place your right hand over Minimus' spark and Minimus, you place your right hand on Swerve's spark.”
They did so and chose to clasp their left hands together. It wasn't technically part of the ceremony, but it did leave them feeling more connected. Looking right at each other highlighted how happy Swerve was, even if Minimus had to tilt his helm just a little.
He could feel the rapid pulsing of Swerve's spark beneath his fingertips and wondered if Swerve could feel his own as well. Minimus was both elated and nervous and he felt that it showed. The weight of their witnesses seemed to crowd on his shoulders.
“Recognize the weight of the sparks beneath your fingers,” Rodimus continued as he brought his hands together, clasping them. “Recognize the responsibility that you will bear and share. Recognize that once you take your vows, these are the hands that will lift each other up.”
Minimus nodded and Swerve echoed him. They shared another glance and heat flooded Minimus' faceplate. In the background, the music went soft again. He all but heard the audience hold their collective breath and ventilations.
Rodimus looked at Minimus first, as the elder in the partnership, “Will you, Minimus Ambus, keep Swerve as your favorite person - to laugh with him, to go on adventures with him, to support him through life's tough moments. We've had so many of those after all. And do you vow to be proud of him, to age with him, and find new reasons to love him every day?”
Minimus worked his intake. He licked his lips. “I will,” he said. It wasn't even the hardest thing he'd ever promised.
Rodimus winked and turned to Swerve. “And will you, Swerve, keep--”
“I will!” Swerve blurted out, loud enough to echo in the ballroom and completely override Rodimus' recitation of the vows. His face instantly flooded with color and he ducked his helm.
Swerve squeezed Minimus' hand and looked him straight in the optic. “I mean,” he murmured with a cycled ventilation. “Yes, I will. I'll do all those things. For you. For both of you.”
Both of you.
Of course Swerve would remember how much Minimus felt torn between himself and the Magnus Armor. How he struggled to define himself and how he didn't want to lose either.
Minimus smiled, and it was the largest, most genuine smile he can ever remember himself giving. “Thank you, Swerve,” he murmured.
Swerve beamed back at him.
Rodimus coughed into his hand. “You two are precious,” he said. “Will you, Swerve and Minimus Ambus, vow to be each other's partners from this day forward? Will you bring out the best in one another, share your happiest moments together, and love each other absolutely - for the rest of this lifetime and in the Well thereafter?”
Minimus' hand shook as he tightened his grip on Swerve's. He felt Swerve squeeze him in return, their fields rising and mingling together. It began to feel more and more real with each passing moment.
“We will,” Swerve and Minimus said together, in perfect unison. They couldn't have planned it better if they tried.
Minimus repeated the words to himself, meeting and keeping Swerve's gaze as he did so. I will, he vowed, to both himself and to Swerve.
He wanted to try his hardest to make this work. He knew that Swerve felt the same.
“You are now one,” Rodimus said, his vocals humbled. He stepped closer and rested his hands over their joined ones. “May your bond bring to you every excitement. May you need each other always, not out of weakness, but out of joy. May you want one another always. May you look for things to praise, to lift each other higher, and ignore the smaller faults. May you have happiness and find it in each other. May you always have love, and find it in loving one another.”
Rodimus squeezed and then released their hands. He grinned and lifted his chain. “By the power invested in me as captain of this starship, I now pronounce you conjunx endura,” he declared with a resounding echo in the ballroom. “May your bond prove stronger with each passing cycle and may your love never dim.” He brought his hands together with a defining clap.
Swerve grinned.
Minimus did, too.
They leaned toward each other and shared their first kiss as a bonded couple. Swerve's lips trembled as they pressed against his and he ex-vented warmth down against Minimus. It sent a shiver down Minimus' spinal strut and though he knew they wouldn't be having a 'honeymoon' so to speak, it filled Minimus with heat.
Their arms wrapped around each other and the kiss deepened, Minimus daring to introduce his glossa and taste Swerve's joy for his own.
They might have continued if not for Skids activating the gong that announced the end of the ceremony and the successful conclusion of commitment. Minimus broke apart from Swerve with an embarrassed tilt of his helm. Swerve was too busy grinning to look ashamed.
His hand slid down Minimus' arm and linked their fingers together. They turned toward the crowd and bowed as one. They were officially legally bonded. Were this a true bonding, Minimus would be changing their registered designations in the database. He would go to First Aid and tell him to change their medical records.
If his hopes held true, Minimus would still be doing those things. Only with genuine honesty behind it.
“Now, to recognize and celebrate the new couple, there's a reception in the dining hall,” Rodimus announced. “Hope to see you all there!”
The chimes continued to sound. The crowd began to murmur as everyone rose from their seats. No doubt the prospect of free snacks and celebration drew them.
Minimus turned back toward Rodimus.
“That was beautiful, Rodimus,” he whispered, all at once in awe of his captain, who he never expected was capable of anything well-meaning.
Rodimus' face visibly heated. He ducked his helm and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks,” he said. “I, uh, looked it up, you know. I mean, this is fake and all, but I still wanted to do it right.”
The urge to hug Rodimus in that moment was almost overwhelming. Minimus refrained, lest Rodimus think it okay in the future, but he did grab Rodimus' hand for a hearty shake.
“It was,” Swerve agreed with a hearty nod of his head. “It, um, almost made me cry. Thanks.”
“From both of us,” Minimus added, and he meant it. He was impressed. “You did a good job.”
Rodimus beamed at him. His field spiked with warmth and pleasure. Rodimus was, as always, so very susceptible to genuine praise.
“I know,” he said, in a flash back to his usual cocky self, but that brief moment of humility had been beautiful in itself. He squeezed Minimus' hand. “So let's get this reception over with and get the Pit off Exelon before anything else happens. Deal?”
Minimus blinked. “Wait. It worked?”
Rodimus flashed him a thumbs-up. “Sure thing. Especially since you didn't even notice. Then again, you really only had optics for Swerve.” He nudged Minimus with an elbow.
Swerve chuckled. “It was part of the show, right?” he asked, ducking his head. He inched closer to Minimus, their sides pressing together.
“Of course it was!” Rodimus clapped them both on the shoulder. He all but vibrated with relief. “Thanks to both of you, my spark is saved, your sparks are saved, everyone's sparks are saved.”
Minimus smiled. “I think Perceptor had a little something to do with it,” he commented in a dry tone.
“And Brainstorm,” Swerve added with a laugh.
Rodimus rolled his optics. “Yeah, yeah. The two nerds, too. Now, come on. Let's go before the Exelons get suspicious and shoot us out of orbit or something.”
Minimus wouldn't put it past them. He also made a mental note to mark Exelon Five as a place for no Cybertronian to visit. Ever.
There was only one more performance left to give.
***
A/n: I've adapted this http://offbeatbride.com/2015/02/nontraditional-non-religious-wedding-ceremony-script for the wedding ceremony.
I am very, very proud of this chapter. It's too cute and funny.
Feedback, as always, is welcome and appreciated.
Two more chapters to go!. This entry was originally posted at http://dracoqueen22.dreamwidth.org/313651.html. Feel free to comment wherever you find most convenient.