Hot Rod & Bluestreak - the More Things Change. One Shot.
Rare Pairings
Title: The More Things Change
Series: None. One Shot.
Rating: PG, for language.
Verse: G1 and/or movie, some G1 for time keeping.
Summary: Acting one's age. Debatable idea at best.
Pairings: Hot Rod & Bluestreak.
Notes: Written in response to one of the weekly request:
Hot Rod/Bluestreak: "a royal pain in the aft"
And yet another unbetaed drabble because it just appeared out of nowhere, it's very late and my Internet connection still refuses to behave.
Why, Primus?! WHY?!
(Offers Soundwave's... Private recordings of Megatron's even more private moments).
Please, please be appeased my most awesome Beta.
Not a very good tale and it spun mostly on its own.
Have written for Bluestreak... Twice, and never for Hot Rod (He killed Prime! DIE!!).
Er... Anyway, hope it's entertaining despite all the horrid mistakes.
Astrosecond - from G1. Not defined (approx. less than a second.)
The More Things Change
Patience was not one of Hot Rod's well known qualities.
Which is why Bluestreak's personality quirks were proving to be a little more than he'd expected.
Strike that, Hot Rod thought, chasing after Bluestreak through the forested roads, engines revving. Bluestreak was nothing like he'd expected.
For one, Hot Rod couldn't believe Bluestreak was leaving him behind!
True, he’d recently arrived and was still unused to Earth's gravity but still... Bluestreak was leaving him behind!
And here he always thought old timers from Earth were more... Serious.
After meeting Prime, Prowl and a few other seniors long stationed on Earth he'd begun to wish he'd never age like some of them, very sombre and hardly any fun at all.
Bluestreak was throwing his ideas of "seniors" into deep space.
'You know.' Hot Rod offered, struggling to keep up. 'You're like nothing I'd been led to believe.'
'Like what?' Bluestreak asked, racing ahead. 'It's not like I ever led anyone to believe anything about me!' He produced a loud roar from his engines. 'I mean, if I had known Prime was assigning me to lead one of the newcomers from Cybertron's moons I'd prepared a guided tour or-it's that a deer?! Haven't seen one out here, at this time of day! I know Hound comes across them but-anyway, Prime said: "Bluestreak, it's up to you to-"'
'Slow down!' Hot Rod called after him, shocked it was him that had uttered such a... A blasphemy!
'Leaving you behind, junior?' Bluestreak laughed, and then thought about what he'd just said.
Junior.
At one time it had been him on the receiving end of the word.
Prowl and Jazz had called him that, so had Ironhide.
He saw so little of them now, ever since the Decepticons had taken Cybertron and pushed the Autobot forces off planet, it seemed like everyone he'd ever known had drifted away, leaving him behind.
Still, it's not all bad, Bluestreak considered.
Earth was still a beautiful planet, he couldn't deny that.
The green forests all around them, the winding, gravelly road beneath his tyres, the wind caressing his chassis. It was a perfect day for a race!
'Hey!' Hot Rod called after him, breaking his reverie. 'Slow down!!'
Oh yeah! Bluestreak thought. Hot Rod had called him an old timer!
Well, time to dispel that idea, for good.
'What's' the matter, Roddy?' Bluestreak transformed, causing a huge cloud of dust to rise as he slid for a few metres down the road. 'Too fast for ya?'
Hot Rod Transformed, frowning at the cloud of dust that choked his intakes and sneaked into his joints. He hated being called "Roddy". How had Bluestreak learnt his most hated nickname?
'I thought all old timers were supposed to have a little more dignity than the rest of us.' Hot Rod's intakes coughed up dust.
'Call me an old timer again and-'
'You'll scold me and send me to my room?' Hot Rod grinned. 'Old timer?'
'That's it!' Bluestreak transformed back into vehicle mode. 'Race ya! First to reach the top of Lookout Mountain! Loser has to kiss the other's aft!'
'WHAT?!' Hot Rod asked in shock. 'That's not-'
'Meet you at the top!' Bluestreak raced ahead, 'Gotta polish my aft before you get there!'
'HolyPrimus!' Hot Rod transformed and gave chase. 'He's not kidding!'
Bluestreak laughed, taking every approaching curve at speeds that would make Prowl cringe in his armour, flying through the far and few straight runs until he thought he could take off, if he had wings like Tracks.
He thought of Tracks, a senior officer now, part of Ultra Magnus' team.
Tracks was mostly on his own, dedicated solely to his work since Raul's life had terminated not long ago. Bluestreak had been away on the Second moon when it had happened. Jazz had told him about it. They had spent some time talking, sure, but Tracks had never been the same since.
Perhaps if-
'Eat my dust!' Hot Rod whooshed by.
'Whoa!!' Bluestreak almost lost control but held his course.
Dammit! He wasn't going to lose!
He hadn't lost to Cahnay! He sure as-
'Auggie!' Bluestreak found himself recalling the irascible, and irritating, professional racer: Auggie Cahnay.
Cahnay's life had terminated, many cycles ago.
He was a legend now, there was even a racetrack named after him: The Cahnay Circuit!
It was a demanding circuit, arduous to say the least, and one of Bluestreak's most favourite tracks.
'You're not getting away from me that easy!' Bluestreak persisted. 'Cahnay didn't beat me; YOU sure as slag aren't going to!'
'Says you, old-'
Hot Rod failed to hold the next curve, skidding and sliding on the suddenly gravelly road.
He slammed hard against the safety barrier, sparks flying from his nose bumper and side panelling.
He cried out in pain and panicked.
They were high up the mountain, almost at the top and if the safety barrier gave way he'd plunge into the green abyss of the forest far below.
'Hot Rod!' Bluestreak transformed as the safety barrier snapped with a loud metallic twang, sending the colourful newcomer plunging over the abyss.
'I got ya!' Bluestreak dived after Hot Rod. 'Transform!!'
Hot Rod transformed, grabbing hold of Bluestreak's hand.
Great! Hot Rod panicked. They were falling together!
'I've got this!' Bluestreak raised one hand and fired a line, ensnaring part of the undamaged safety barrier.
'You have a grappling hook?!' Hot Rod asked, glad and surprised to find himself rescued from a, most likely fatal, crash.
'A gift from Jazz.' Bluestreak smiled. 'Always knew it'd come in handy some day.'
'Blue?' Hot Rod asked softly.
'We'll be all right.' Bluestreak reassured Hot Rod. 'We'll be back on the road in no time.'
Hot Rod was silent as Bluestreak's winch took them back to the top, Hot Rod climbing back onto safe ground before lending Bluestreak a hand.
'Sorry about calling you an old timer.' Hot Rod apologised. 'I-'
'Forget something?' Bluestreak asked.
'Thanks.' Hot Rod smiled and held his hand out. 'I would have-'
Much to Hot Rod's shock Bluestreak transformed and raced away, heading up the mountain.
'See ya at the top!' Bluestreak laughed.
Hot Rod couldn't believe this.
After their near fatal plunge Bluestreak was insisting on racing?!
'Damnitall!!' Hot Rod transformed and gave chase, but knew he was too late.
He reached the top of Lookout Mountain and found Bluestreak already waiting, seated alongside the long distance scopes, a big grin on his features.
'Hiya, Roddy!' Bluestreak greeted the transforming Hot Rod. 'What took ya so long? It's not like one of the "youngsters" to lose so casually to an "old timer" like me now, is it? I mean, we did fall over the edge, sure, but hey! A race's a race, right? And you wouldn't deny this "old timer" a chance to show-'
'Let's just get this over and done with.' Hot Rod grumbled.
'All righty.' Bluestreak rose and continued to smile. 'On your knees, Roddy.'
Hot Rod couldn't believe what he was doing but he took to his knees.
Didn't think he was such a slagger, he cursed mentally.
Even Kup's not this bad. Sure, he does grind like an old engine missing a part or two but at least he acts-
'Offline your optics.' Bluestreak smiled.
'Do I-'
'Yes you do!' Bluestreak wagged a digit at him.
Hot Rod offlined his optics and waited.
Suddenly he cried out as something struck his helm.
'Hey!' Hot Rod's optics onlined and he tugged at something adhering to his helm. 'What's this?!'
'I came to a decision and I felt bad for you.' Bluestreak walked past him and began to walk down the road, heading back down the mountain. 'Instead of making you pay the penalty I used a patented Sunstreaker & Sideswipe solution. Hope you like this better!'
Hot Rod tried removing whatever Bluestreak had attached to his helm but it refused to come off. He caught a glimpsed of his reflection on the polished metal of his arm.
'"I kissed Bluestreak's aft?!"' He read the sign attached to his helm. 'Why... That SLAGGER!!'
'Race you back to the city.' Bluestreak offered. 'If you're game?'
Hot Rod cried out in frustration.
Bluestreak was no dignified senior! He was worse than-than-!
'He's worse than me!' Hot Rod grumbled. You know what?!' He called after Bluestreak, his temper giving way at last. 'You're a royal pain in the aft!!'
Bluestreak looked back, granting him a satisfied grin.
Still got it, he thought, and transformed, leading the way back to Autobot City.
Finis
Title: The More Things Change
Series: None. One Shot.
Rating: PG, for language.
Verse: G1 and/or movie, some G1 for time keeping.
Summary: Acting one's age. Debatable idea at best.
Pairings: Hot Rod & Bluestreak.
Notes: Written in response to one of the weekly request:
Hot Rod/Bluestreak: "a royal pain in the aft"
And yet another unbetaed drabble because it just appeared out of nowhere, it's very late and my Internet connection still refuses to behave.
Why, Primus?! WHY?!
(Offers Soundwave's... Private recordings of Megatron's even more private moments).
Please, please be appeased my most awesome Beta.
Not a very good tale and it spun mostly on its own.
Have written for Bluestreak... Twice, and never for Hot Rod (He killed Prime! DIE!!).
Er... Anyway, hope it's entertaining despite all the horrid mistakes.
Astrosecond - from G1. Not defined (approx. less than a second.)
The More Things Change
Patience was not one of Hot Rod's well known qualities.
Which is why Bluestreak's personality quirks were proving to be a little more than he'd expected.
Strike that, Hot Rod thought, chasing after Bluestreak through the forested roads, engines revving. Bluestreak was nothing like he'd expected.
For one, Hot Rod couldn't believe Bluestreak was leaving him behind!
True, he’d recently arrived and was still unused to Earth's gravity but still... Bluestreak was leaving him behind!
And here he always thought old timers from Earth were more... Serious.
After meeting Prime, Prowl and a few other seniors long stationed on Earth he'd begun to wish he'd never age like some of them, very sombre and hardly any fun at all.
Bluestreak was throwing his ideas of "seniors" into deep space.
'You know.' Hot Rod offered, struggling to keep up. 'You're like nothing I'd been led to believe.'
'Like what?' Bluestreak asked, racing ahead. 'It's not like I ever led anyone to believe anything about me!' He produced a loud roar from his engines. 'I mean, if I had known Prime was assigning me to lead one of the newcomers from Cybertron's moons I'd prepared a guided tour or-it's that a deer?! Haven't seen one out here, at this time of day! I know Hound comes across them but-anyway, Prime said: "Bluestreak, it's up to you to-"'
'Slow down!' Hot Rod called after him, shocked it was him that had uttered such a... A blasphemy!
'Leaving you behind, junior?' Bluestreak laughed, and then thought about what he'd just said.
Junior.
At one time it had been him on the receiving end of the word.
Prowl and Jazz had called him that, so had Ironhide.
He saw so little of them now, ever since the Decepticons had taken Cybertron and pushed the Autobot forces off planet, it seemed like everyone he'd ever known had drifted away, leaving him behind.
Still, it's not all bad, Bluestreak considered.
Earth was still a beautiful planet, he couldn't deny that.
The green forests all around them, the winding, gravelly road beneath his tyres, the wind caressing his chassis. It was a perfect day for a race!
'Hey!' Hot Rod called after him, breaking his reverie. 'Slow down!!'
Oh yeah! Bluestreak thought. Hot Rod had called him an old timer!
Well, time to dispel that idea, for good.
'What's' the matter, Roddy?' Bluestreak transformed, causing a huge cloud of dust to rise as he slid for a few metres down the road. 'Too fast for ya?'
Hot Rod Transformed, frowning at the cloud of dust that choked his intakes and sneaked into his joints. He hated being called "Roddy". How had Bluestreak learnt his most hated nickname?
'I thought all old timers were supposed to have a little more dignity than the rest of us.' Hot Rod's intakes coughed up dust.
'Call me an old timer again and-'
'You'll scold me and send me to my room?' Hot Rod grinned. 'Old timer?'
'That's it!' Bluestreak transformed back into vehicle mode. 'Race ya! First to reach the top of Lookout Mountain! Loser has to kiss the other's aft!'
'WHAT?!' Hot Rod asked in shock. 'That's not-'
'Meet you at the top!' Bluestreak raced ahead, 'Gotta polish my aft before you get there!'
'HolyPrimus!' Hot Rod transformed and gave chase. 'He's not kidding!'
Bluestreak laughed, taking every approaching curve at speeds that would make Prowl cringe in his armour, flying through the far and few straight runs until he thought he could take off, if he had wings like Tracks.
He thought of Tracks, a senior officer now, part of Ultra Magnus' team.
Tracks was mostly on his own, dedicated solely to his work since Raul's life had terminated not long ago. Bluestreak had been away on the Second moon when it had happened. Jazz had told him about it. They had spent some time talking, sure, but Tracks had never been the same since.
Perhaps if-
'Eat my dust!' Hot Rod whooshed by.
'Whoa!!' Bluestreak almost lost control but held his course.
Dammit! He wasn't going to lose!
He hadn't lost to Cahnay! He sure as-
'Auggie!' Bluestreak found himself recalling the irascible, and irritating, professional racer: Auggie Cahnay.
Cahnay's life had terminated, many cycles ago.
He was a legend now, there was even a racetrack named after him: The Cahnay Circuit!
It was a demanding circuit, arduous to say the least, and one of Bluestreak's most favourite tracks.
'You're not getting away from me that easy!' Bluestreak persisted. 'Cahnay didn't beat me; YOU sure as slag aren't going to!'
'Says you, old-'
Hot Rod failed to hold the next curve, skidding and sliding on the suddenly gravelly road.
He slammed hard against the safety barrier, sparks flying from his nose bumper and side panelling.
He cried out in pain and panicked.
They were high up the mountain, almost at the top and if the safety barrier gave way he'd plunge into the green abyss of the forest far below.
'Hot Rod!' Bluestreak transformed as the safety barrier snapped with a loud metallic twang, sending the colourful newcomer plunging over the abyss.
'I got ya!' Bluestreak dived after Hot Rod. 'Transform!!'
Hot Rod transformed, grabbing hold of Bluestreak's hand.
Great! Hot Rod panicked. They were falling together!
'I've got this!' Bluestreak raised one hand and fired a line, ensnaring part of the undamaged safety barrier.
'You have a grappling hook?!' Hot Rod asked, glad and surprised to find himself rescued from a, most likely fatal, crash.
'A gift from Jazz.' Bluestreak smiled. 'Always knew it'd come in handy some day.'
'Blue?' Hot Rod asked softly.
'We'll be all right.' Bluestreak reassured Hot Rod. 'We'll be back on the road in no time.'
Hot Rod was silent as Bluestreak's winch took them back to the top, Hot Rod climbing back onto safe ground before lending Bluestreak a hand.
'Sorry about calling you an old timer.' Hot Rod apologised. 'I-'
'Forget something?' Bluestreak asked.
'Thanks.' Hot Rod smiled and held his hand out. 'I would have-'
Much to Hot Rod's shock Bluestreak transformed and raced away, heading up the mountain.
'See ya at the top!' Bluestreak laughed.
Hot Rod couldn't believe this.
After their near fatal plunge Bluestreak was insisting on racing?!
'Damnitall!!' Hot Rod transformed and gave chase, but knew he was too late.
He reached the top of Lookout Mountain and found Bluestreak already waiting, seated alongside the long distance scopes, a big grin on his features.
'Hiya, Roddy!' Bluestreak greeted the transforming Hot Rod. 'What took ya so long? It's not like one of the "youngsters" to lose so casually to an "old timer" like me now, is it? I mean, we did fall over the edge, sure, but hey! A race's a race, right? And you wouldn't deny this "old timer" a chance to show-'
'Let's just get this over and done with.' Hot Rod grumbled.
'All righty.' Bluestreak rose and continued to smile. 'On your knees, Roddy.'
Hot Rod couldn't believe what he was doing but he took to his knees.
Didn't think he was such a slagger, he cursed mentally.
Even Kup's not this bad. Sure, he does grind like an old engine missing a part or two but at least he acts-
'Offline your optics.' Bluestreak smiled.
'Do I-'
'Yes you do!' Bluestreak wagged a digit at him.
Hot Rod offlined his optics and waited.
Suddenly he cried out as something struck his helm.
'Hey!' Hot Rod's optics onlined and he tugged at something adhering to his helm. 'What's this?!'
'I came to a decision and I felt bad for you.' Bluestreak walked past him and began to walk down the road, heading back down the mountain. 'Instead of making you pay the penalty I used a patented Sunstreaker & Sideswipe solution. Hope you like this better!'
Hot Rod tried removing whatever Bluestreak had attached to his helm but it refused to come off. He caught a glimpsed of his reflection on the polished metal of his arm.
'"I kissed Bluestreak's aft?!"' He read the sign attached to his helm. 'Why... That SLAGGER!!'
'Race you back to the city.' Bluestreak offered. 'If you're game?'
Hot Rod cried out in frustration.
Bluestreak was no dignified senior! He was worse than-than-!
'He's worse than me!' Hot Rod grumbled. You know what?!' He called after Bluestreak, his temper giving way at last. 'You're a royal pain in the aft!!'
Bluestreak looked back, granting him a satisfied grin.
Still got it, he thought, and transformed, leading the way back to Autobot City.
Finis