How to Woo a Femme
Title: How to Woo a Femme
Verse: G1, Pre-War
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Smokescreen, Chromia, Prowl; SmokescreenxChromia
Word Count: 1,428
Warnings: Mech Cursing
Summary: Smokescreen has learned the best method for getting a femme's attention, though it seems it doesn't always work.
Notes: For vejiraziel. The prompt was "SmokescreenxChromia-Something Humorous like a date gone wrong." This is another piece of our trade over at tf_trading_post.
“Kind of a slow night, isn’t it?”
Chromia smirked, setting an empty cube back on the shelf. “Disappointed in your catch tonight?”
“Just a little,” Smokescreen said, returning the look. The cocky mech rested his chin on his hand, leaning into the table.
“So sad,” Chromia replied, mock pouting.
“Care to make it better by treating me to a drink?”
The blue femme snorted and leaned toward him from the other side of the bar. “Fat chance,” was her response. “Remember our rule? No high-grade while the little spark is around.”
Smokescreen pouted, reaching one hand out to catch said sparkling’s hip plating with one finger, preventing him from toppling off of the counter’s edge. “Not even one tiny shot?”
“Negatory.”
“Killjoy,” the mech huffed, dragging the sparkling back across the counter, turning the small form to face him. “You, little brother, are both a blessing and a curse.”
Prowl tilted is head and cooed, his tiny doorwings fluttering on his back.
Chromia smiled and leaned across the counter, fingering one of the tiny appendages.
“Cute, isn’t he?” Smokescreen asked, setting a small metal cube in the sparkling’s hands.
Prowl made an excited chirping noise, fingering the small object. He turned it over in his hands, optics watching it intently. Then, as all sparklings had to, he lifted it to his mouth and tasted it.
“Ridiculously cute,” Chromia agreed. “I’m actually not surprised femmes flock to you because of him.”
“He’s only one small part of my charm,” Smokescreen told her, grinning.
“If that’s the case, he’s the only successful part.”
Smokescreen pouted, his own doorwings drooping. “Oh yeah?”
“Remember, I’ve seen you in here, almost every weekday night, attempting to pick up a date. Your only successes are when your little brother is around to pull in the femmes.” Chromia snorted, playing with the sparkling’s twitching winglets.
Prowl though, was far too preoccupied to cuddle into the touch. He had discovered that the cube had moving parts and he was quite taken by this. His little fingers twisted pieces round, optics locked intently on the toy.
“And yet the one femme to capture my spark, the cold -- sarcastic bartender by the name of Chromia -- has yet to so much as give me the time of day, despite Prowl’s near constant presence by my side,” Smokescreen said dramatically, slapping a hand over his spark.
Chromia smirked, choking back a laugh as she straightened. “First of all, a big brother constantly bringing a sparkling to a cold, dark bar is hardly a turn on, no matter how cute the sparkling is,” she told him, grinning.
“And second of all?” the mech asked, setting his palm back on the table. “I’m curious to hear why my tactics have failed.”
There was a mischievous glint in Chromis’s optics as she stepped back to attend to her work once more. “You haven’t actually asked me out,” she said absently, picking up a clean cube and polishing it.
Smokescreen’s grin was predatory. “Oh, my apologies,” he drawled. “I should fix that shouldn’t, I?”
“Maybe.” Chromia replied, feigning a distracted tone as she examined the cube for spots.
Smokescreen straightened up on his bar stool, his doorwings sweeping upward on his back. “Chromia?”
“Yes, dearest Smokescreen?” the femme sighed dramatically, looking over at him. She glided over to the counter, leaning on it with a flourish. She visibly forced down a smile, her lips twitching in barely contained amusement.
“Would you kindly allow me to be your consort for a night so that I may sweep you off of your feet?” Smokescreen asked, picking up and clasping one of her hands between his.
Chromia cracked, her face breaking out in a grin. “I suppose so.” She sighed. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Underneath the two bots, Prowl made a triumphant sound and lifted the cube in his tiny hands. On each side of the toy, a different picture was visible where it had previously been a mixed up mess of lines.
“Again?” Smokescreen chuckled, looking down at the sparkling. “That’s the fifth time you’ve solved it today.”
Had the situation been ideal, Smokescreen would have been at Chromia’s apartment in a building not far from his. He was supposed to have been there to pick her up right about then.
Instead, he was currently sprinting across his own quarters, jumping over various messes and dodging furniture in his mad search. Of course, he hadn’t lost something simple like the tickets to the outdoor concert he was supposed to be headed to, or his body wax, or even a data pad. No, he’d lost his little brother.
“Prowl!” he shouted, not really expecting a response. He’d torn up the apartment three times over with no sign of him. There was no way he was there. “Frag it, kid! Where are you?!”
Once more, he sprinted back across the decimated rooms. Again, no sign of the wayward sparkling. He skidded to a halt near the door, letting out a low growl. “Chromia is going to tear me to pieces for this. You had better be in serious peril!” Despite his words, the thought of the little bundle of parts being in any sort of danger had his internals twisting painfully. He was all Smokescreen had left in this world… If any harm came to him… What would he do?
Steeling himself against the sudden onslaught of morbid visions, Smokescreen wrenched his door open and tore down the halls.
“Hey, Smokescreen, what’s the rush?” a silver mech called as he rounded a corner.
Smokescreen couldn’t remember his neighbor’s name, but skidded to a halt in front of him. “Have you seen Prowl?!”
The silver mech’s optics flickered in surprise. “No I haven’t, but-“
Smokescreen took off again before he could finish.
“There’s someone looking for you in the lobby!” the mech called after him anyway.
The blue-and-red mech only half registered the words as he flung himself down the next hall, leaving his neighbor behind.
He circled the entire fifth floor in record time. Each mech or femme he passed, he frantically asked about Prowl’s whereabouts, then nearly plowed through them as well. Nothing. No one knew anything.
By the time he turned the last corner toward his own quarters the building dread burning in his tanks had him nearly crying out in frustrated worry.
“Chromia!” Smokescreen half gasped as he sprinted toward his doorway.
The femme, standing with one hand propped on her side, had her hip jutted out to the side in her most obvious pose of displeasure.
Smokescreen ignored the knowledge that he was sure to get a glossa-lashing, and ran up to the femme, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around to face him.
“Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t come, but I’ve got a huge problem!” he said frantically, his optics practically begging her not to yell at him just yet. “Have you seen Prowl?!”
Surprisingly, a smug smirk stole across Chromia’s face. “Your little explorer?” she asked, lifting one shoulder, jiggling the bundle in her arm.
Prowl giggled and bounced in the blue femme’s arm, gripping a small yellow ball in one hand.
Smokescreen’s optics flared and he snatched the sparkling from Chromia. “Where have you BEEN?!” he practically sobbed, nearly crushing the sparkling to his chest. “I thought someone stole you or that maybe you had gotten stepped on!”
Prowl chittered happily against his brother’s neck where he’d been effectively pinned.
“Primus I was so worried!” Smokescreen groaned. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again!”
“If it helps any, I’d love to have him come with us tonight,” Chromia noted, looking rather amused by the display.
Smokescreen finally acknowledged the femme properly, optics staring at her in surprise. “We’re still going?”
“Why not?” she asked, smirking at the restrained wiggle the sparkling gave against his brother’s chest. “We’re only a little late.”
“You’re not mad about that?” he asked. “Or that I lost Prowl?”
“Considering he was rolling around the lift with that ball of his, I can’t really blame you for his escape. He seems to be a runner,” Chromia replied, chuckling softly. “And no, I’m not mad.”
“Well I… Thank you,” he managed after a moment, puzzling over at her.
“Don’t dwell on it,” Chromia told him, turning to move down the hall. “Prowl is the only reason we’re going out tonight, remember?” she teased.
Smokescreen snorted and trotted after her, his charm returning. “Keep telling yourself that.”
It wasn’t until they’d arrived at the amphitheatre that Smokescreen realized he’d left the tickets.
~~~
Beta's by pellimusprime.
May I request a Smokescreen tag please? o 3 o
Verse: G1, Pre-War
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Smokescreen, Chromia, Prowl; SmokescreenxChromia
Word Count: 1,428
Warnings: Mech Cursing
Summary: Smokescreen has learned the best method for getting a femme's attention, though it seems it doesn't always work.
Notes: For vejiraziel. The prompt was "SmokescreenxChromia-Something Humorous like a date gone wrong." This is another piece of our trade over at tf_trading_post.
“Kind of a slow night, isn’t it?”
Chromia smirked, setting an empty cube back on the shelf. “Disappointed in your catch tonight?”
“Just a little,” Smokescreen said, returning the look. The cocky mech rested his chin on his hand, leaning into the table.
“So sad,” Chromia replied, mock pouting.
“Care to make it better by treating me to a drink?”
The blue femme snorted and leaned toward him from the other side of the bar. “Fat chance,” was her response. “Remember our rule? No high-grade while the little spark is around.”
Smokescreen pouted, reaching one hand out to catch said sparkling’s hip plating with one finger, preventing him from toppling off of the counter’s edge. “Not even one tiny shot?”
“Negatory.”
“Killjoy,” the mech huffed, dragging the sparkling back across the counter, turning the small form to face him. “You, little brother, are both a blessing and a curse.”
Prowl tilted is head and cooed, his tiny doorwings fluttering on his back.
Chromia smiled and leaned across the counter, fingering one of the tiny appendages.
“Cute, isn’t he?” Smokescreen asked, setting a small metal cube in the sparkling’s hands.
Prowl made an excited chirping noise, fingering the small object. He turned it over in his hands, optics watching it intently. Then, as all sparklings had to, he lifted it to his mouth and tasted it.
“Ridiculously cute,” Chromia agreed. “I’m actually not surprised femmes flock to you because of him.”
“He’s only one small part of my charm,” Smokescreen told her, grinning.
“If that’s the case, he’s the only successful part.”
Smokescreen pouted, his own doorwings drooping. “Oh yeah?”
“Remember, I’ve seen you in here, almost every weekday night, attempting to pick up a date. Your only successes are when your little brother is around to pull in the femmes.” Chromia snorted, playing with the sparkling’s twitching winglets.
Prowl though, was far too preoccupied to cuddle into the touch. He had discovered that the cube had moving parts and he was quite taken by this. His little fingers twisted pieces round, optics locked intently on the toy.
“And yet the one femme to capture my spark, the cold -- sarcastic bartender by the name of Chromia -- has yet to so much as give me the time of day, despite Prowl’s near constant presence by my side,” Smokescreen said dramatically, slapping a hand over his spark.
Chromia smirked, choking back a laugh as she straightened. “First of all, a big brother constantly bringing a sparkling to a cold, dark bar is hardly a turn on, no matter how cute the sparkling is,” she told him, grinning.
“And second of all?” the mech asked, setting his palm back on the table. “I’m curious to hear why my tactics have failed.”
There was a mischievous glint in Chromis’s optics as she stepped back to attend to her work once more. “You haven’t actually asked me out,” she said absently, picking up a clean cube and polishing it.
Smokescreen’s grin was predatory. “Oh, my apologies,” he drawled. “I should fix that shouldn’t, I?”
“Maybe.” Chromia replied, feigning a distracted tone as she examined the cube for spots.
Smokescreen straightened up on his bar stool, his doorwings sweeping upward on his back. “Chromia?”
“Yes, dearest Smokescreen?” the femme sighed dramatically, looking over at him. She glided over to the counter, leaning on it with a flourish. She visibly forced down a smile, her lips twitching in barely contained amusement.
“Would you kindly allow me to be your consort for a night so that I may sweep you off of your feet?” Smokescreen asked, picking up and clasping one of her hands between his.
Chromia cracked, her face breaking out in a grin. “I suppose so.” She sighed. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Underneath the two bots, Prowl made a triumphant sound and lifted the cube in his tiny hands. On each side of the toy, a different picture was visible where it had previously been a mixed up mess of lines.
“Again?” Smokescreen chuckled, looking down at the sparkling. “That’s the fifth time you’ve solved it today.”
Had the situation been ideal, Smokescreen would have been at Chromia’s apartment in a building not far from his. He was supposed to have been there to pick her up right about then.
Instead, he was currently sprinting across his own quarters, jumping over various messes and dodging furniture in his mad search. Of course, he hadn’t lost something simple like the tickets to the outdoor concert he was supposed to be headed to, or his body wax, or even a data pad. No, he’d lost his little brother.
“Prowl!” he shouted, not really expecting a response. He’d torn up the apartment three times over with no sign of him. There was no way he was there. “Frag it, kid! Where are you?!”
Once more, he sprinted back across the decimated rooms. Again, no sign of the wayward sparkling. He skidded to a halt near the door, letting out a low growl. “Chromia is going to tear me to pieces for this. You had better be in serious peril!” Despite his words, the thought of the little bundle of parts being in any sort of danger had his internals twisting painfully. He was all Smokescreen had left in this world… If any harm came to him… What would he do?
Steeling himself against the sudden onslaught of morbid visions, Smokescreen wrenched his door open and tore down the halls.
“Hey, Smokescreen, what’s the rush?” a silver mech called as he rounded a corner.
Smokescreen couldn’t remember his neighbor’s name, but skidded to a halt in front of him. “Have you seen Prowl?!”
The silver mech’s optics flickered in surprise. “No I haven’t, but-“
Smokescreen took off again before he could finish.
“There’s someone looking for you in the lobby!” the mech called after him anyway.
The blue-and-red mech only half registered the words as he flung himself down the next hall, leaving his neighbor behind.
He circled the entire fifth floor in record time. Each mech or femme he passed, he frantically asked about Prowl’s whereabouts, then nearly plowed through them as well. Nothing. No one knew anything.
By the time he turned the last corner toward his own quarters the building dread burning in his tanks had him nearly crying out in frustrated worry.
“Chromia!” Smokescreen half gasped as he sprinted toward his doorway.
The femme, standing with one hand propped on her side, had her hip jutted out to the side in her most obvious pose of displeasure.
Smokescreen ignored the knowledge that he was sure to get a glossa-lashing, and ran up to the femme, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around to face him.
“Listen, I’m really sorry I didn’t come, but I’ve got a huge problem!” he said frantically, his optics practically begging her not to yell at him just yet. “Have you seen Prowl?!”
Surprisingly, a smug smirk stole across Chromia’s face. “Your little explorer?” she asked, lifting one shoulder, jiggling the bundle in her arm.
Prowl giggled and bounced in the blue femme’s arm, gripping a small yellow ball in one hand.
Smokescreen’s optics flared and he snatched the sparkling from Chromia. “Where have you BEEN?!” he practically sobbed, nearly crushing the sparkling to his chest. “I thought someone stole you or that maybe you had gotten stepped on!”
Prowl chittered happily against his brother’s neck where he’d been effectively pinned.
“Primus I was so worried!” Smokescreen groaned. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again!”
“If it helps any, I’d love to have him come with us tonight,” Chromia noted, looking rather amused by the display.
Smokescreen finally acknowledged the femme properly, optics staring at her in surprise. “We’re still going?”
“Why not?” she asked, smirking at the restrained wiggle the sparkling gave against his brother’s chest. “We’re only a little late.”
“You’re not mad about that?” he asked. “Or that I lost Prowl?”
“Considering he was rolling around the lift with that ball of his, I can’t really blame you for his escape. He seems to be a runner,” Chromia replied, chuckling softly. “And no, I’m not mad.”
“Well I… Thank you,” he managed after a moment, puzzling over at her.
“Don’t dwell on it,” Chromia told him, turning to move down the hall. “Prowl is the only reason we’re going out tonight, remember?” she teased.
Smokescreen snorted and trotted after her, his charm returning. “Keep telling yourself that.”
It wasn’t until they’d arrived at the amphitheatre that Smokescreen realized he’d left the tickets.
~~~
Beta's by pellimusprime.
May I request a Smokescreen tag please? o 3 o