Title: Shells
Universe: Bayverse, Embassy Town 'verse
Rating: T
Characters: Alice, Brains, Red Alert, Jazz
Prompt: Brains/Alice: Nice disguise
Content Advisory: mentions of child soldiers, angst, non-graphic physical damage, mild violence
Notes: written for the August 9-15 round of TF Rare Pairing's weekly prompts. Set in the larger backdrop of my Embassy Town AU, where the events of ROTF are cannon, but the story veers of sharply before DOTM gets going (Chicago? ALL Shockewave's fault.) All you need to know for context here is that the war is over and the Autobots live on a little patch of land in the American Southwest as a sovereign nation. Also, Red Alert adopted Brains for reasons no one understands.
Brains perked up from his station at the security monitor and ignored the displeased look that the Prime's security director shot him. He'd felt something when the new delegation stepped into the room, and it was a spark signature he knew as well as he knew his own.
He should, he'd been feeling it since before either of them had hatched.
"I think maybe we got a hostile," he told the Autobot. "I'mma go check it out and I'll let you know, Red."
"Go." Red Alert waved one hand at him dismissively and turned back toward the security screens. "Shouldn't let you man the security station, anyway."
"Heh." The former Decepticon didn't let the older mech's attitude get to him; Red was probably right that he shouldn't be on a security shift yet. He was still incredibly young by their standards. Hell, he was even young for a human; that Lennox youngling was barely older than he was. "I'll go work the crowd too. Easier to see the threats from the ground sometimes."
Red Alert nodded as Brains slid down from his seat at the station. "Thirty minute check-ins."
"Yessir!" The young mech said. Then he scurried off to find that familiar spark signature.
The crowd wasn't bad yet, this early into the party. Only a few delegates were in the room when he stepped through the door--the American, English, Japanese, Mexican and Canadian ambassadors and their delegations, and two of those were all male which meant he could ignore them completely while he searched for his pod sister. The Fallen had programmed her to well for her to even consider taking on a male-coded pretender shell.
He wove through the sea of legs with focus, not even pausing to admire how nice the Canadian ambassador's legs looked in those new heels. He could flirt with the ladies after he found his sister. He just wished he knew what she looked like right now, to speed things up.
Brains squawked as a hand picked him up unexpectedly. Then, a voice hissed into one of his audio receivers, "Traitor!"
He squirmed in the firm grasp until he could turn around enough to see his captor. He didn't recognize the face--she'd clearly done some reformatting, but it was pretty with the tanned skin and the auburn hair--but the optics that peered out at him were definitely his sisters. "Hey, Alice. Nice disguise. I'd'a sworn those legs belonged to the British senior aid."
Alice's lips, really nicely formed ones if Brains said so, pulled down into a frown and she shook him once. "I should offline you! You betrayed us all!"
"Seems like you didn't get the memo, sis." And if she'd been repairing as much damage as Wheelie implied she had been, the small mech knew that she likely had missed the cessation declaration. "But there aren't any Decepticons left to betray."
"What?" She shook him again. "Talk sense!"
"I am talking sense! And stop rattling my processor! People are gonna notice!" As his sister's frown deepened, Brains opened a comm line to Red Alert. Found the infiltrator. Pretender class. Could get ugly real quick if I can't calm her down.
"You are not!" Alice refrained from shaking him again, but only barely. He could feel her hands trembling around him as she suppressed the urge.
Understood, Red replied. Guide the infiltrator to Lieutenant Jazz if possible for containment.
"I am, I am! The war's over!" He lifted his hands in what would look like surrender to anyone who was watching them. "Look, I'll explain everything. Just walk over to Jazz there and act like you're pissed cause I looked up your skirt."
"You probably did look up my skirt." She gave into her urge to do at least a little more damage and shook him again. "Your obsession with human females is perverse. And Autobot Jazz is permanently deactivated."
"He's not, look!" Brains pointed at the silver mech, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Sarah Lennox and Monique Epps. "A lot of things changed after the Fallen lost. We're not at war anymore. Your mission is over."
"NO!" The Pretender's denial sounded almost wounded and she threw her brother to the floor with a force that really did rattle his processor and cracked one of the armor plates on his back. "You're a lying traitor!"
"I ain't lying," the small mech said, looking up at her sadly. "And I ain't a traitor. Megatron never even wanted us."
"No no no no no." Alice turned away from him and wrapped her arms around her chest. "Have to finish the mission. Have to have a mission."
"I'm sorry," Brains said softly. He wasn't sure she could even hear him over Jazz's footsteps.
"Is there a problem here, Miss?" the silver mech asked, pausing to scoop up Brains and set the young mech on his shoulder.
"Yes." The femme's voice was small, containing more fear than Brains thought he had ever heard from his sister.
"All right. Let's go out in the hall and talk about it." Jazz's voice stayed calm and soothing.
"No." Alice's shoulders slumped and her firm control over her pretender shell slipped. Several of the gathered diplomats gasped as her skin split apart in places and her hair elongated into segmented data cables that writhed with her distress. "I surrender. I will submit to your Prime's judgment against me."
Brains whimpered as his spark broke for his sister.