TFA Tracks Meets

Summary: A rip in time has dropped our favourite, organic-fearing, dirt-hating corvette right into... wait, what? The original G1 universe? Oh well... this is gonna over fabulously... Crack!Fic, mentions of Mech/Mech slash, mild language
Rating: T

Chapter 4



"And this here is the matrix generator, that Wheeljack and myself are currently working on. Calculations show that if we are able to sustain the time temporal frequencies, duplicate to the ones that brought you here in the first place, then we just may be able to create a gateway back to your own plane... and... send you... back... home...," Perceptor trailed off a little, as he noticed his audience of one was no longer paying him any attention.

"Soundwave, is everything alright?"

The Decepticon was currently looking back at Wheeljack and Tracks across the room; at the direct question, he turned his helm slightly, glancing at the scientist.

"You...umm... s-seem distracted by s-something."

"Negative," Soundwave replied. "Request: continue."

"Y-yes, well...," Perceptor mumbled, trying to get back on task.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH THAT!"

"You've been saying that about everything in this room. So then what am I allowed to touch?"

"NOTHING!"

"Oh, but what about you~?"

"O-oh dear...," Perceptor sighed, realizing that he would never finish his speech. Soundwave glowered darkly as he turned away from the red Autobot, heading over to where the two other mechs were continuing to make a fuss.

"Inquiry: What are you doing?"

"Soundwave," Tracks smiled, turning to face the Decepticon. His lip components were quick to form a pout though. "Wheeljack here refuses to let me see any of his gadgets, and won't answer any of my questions. I'm merely being curious but he's being so obtuse to my genuine intrigue."

"Curious?!," Wheeljack gaped, helm fins flashing bright yellow. "You were trying to turn on a half-finished proton manipulator -that had no core regulator! Who knows what would have happened!?"

"Well, I might have known that if you had answered me when I asked what it was the first time," the corvette scowled, facing the engineer again. "Besides, what would it have done other than possibly explode? It's not like that hasn't happened before."

Wheeljack fell into a stunned silence.

"P-perhaps we should c-call it a day?," Perceptor tried to intervene. "It's been long and eventful, and I'm sure you both could use some recharge after all your ordeals. And Wheeljack could possibly use a refuelling as well-"

"YOU SAYING I'M INCOMPETENT OR SOMETHING!?"

"O-oh dear..."

"I BUILT THE FRAGGING DINOBOTS! I MADE A MATTER REPLICATOR! I'VE SAVED AUTOBOT SKIDPLATE AND TRASHED DECEPTICON AFT MORE TIMES THAN YOU CAN COUNT!"

"And in between all that, you've made every little thing go boom, bang and kablooie," Tracks replied flippantly.

"WHERE'S MY EGG-BEATERS!?," the engineer roared, turning to the mass of stuff piled on his work table; throwing things aside in his desperate quest for the fore-mentioned object.

"Wheeljack, please, do not be so hasty!," Perceptor cried in alarm. The scientist attempted to stop his friend, but Wheeljack simply pushed him to the side, lifting some sort of device in his servos and turning to the corvette.

Soundwave moved to stand before Tracks, but the red Autobot beat him to it. "Wheeljack, please be reasonable!," Perceptor begged, arms thrown out wide as he stood between the two mechs. "He is only stating what he knows, from the Wheeljack of his universe!"

"Not like there's much difference...," Tracks muttered lowly.

"I'M GONNA TEAR YOU A NEW PORT!"

"Wheeljack!"

"Yo! What's going on here?"

All helms turned as Sideswipe walked through the doors, Sunstreaker at his heels. "What do you think you're doing?," the yellow warrior growled.

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF-!" Wheeljack threw his hands up in the air, tossing aside the strange device he was carrying. "DOES NO ONE CARE FOR THE NO TRESPASSING SIGN?!"

"We heard noises," Sideswipe said coldly. He came up and grabbed Perceptor, pulling the scientist to his chest as he glared at Tracks and Soundwave. "We just had to come and see what was going on."

Copying the red lamborghini's motion, Soundwave drew Tracks closer, glaring back at the Autobot. "So, you mean, you're with these two?," Tracks gasped, not paying attention to the sudden tension in the room. "My, my, my Perceptor... I never would have guessed a cute, little thing like yourself was with these two big, rough and tumble bad boys. I'd for sure thought you were with Wheeljack here as well."

"Excuse me?!," Sunstreaker snarled. He turned on the sullen engineer. "Have you been doing anything to our Perceptor?!"

"Oh, to the fragging pit- No I haven't, dumbafts!," Wheeljack yelled back. "I'm bonded to Ratchet, remember!? And I ain't about to commit suicide by having a romp with him -even if I wasn't happy with my bondmate!"

"So you do want him!," Sideswipe shouted accusingly.

"P-please, do-don't fight!"

"Really now, I don't see why you couldn't all just share him anyways."

Three glares turned to the corvette. "SHUT UP!"

"Well of all the...," Tracks scowled, crossing his arms over his chassis. "You're all so very rude. Honestly, I think I prefer my Wheeljack and Perceptor better. Even with the exploding and metallic voice and emotion inhibitors and the like."

"Emotional inhibitors?," Perceptor mumbled through the chaos still happening about him.

"Inquiry: How many of these Autobots do you know?"

"Hmmm?," Tracks looked up at the Decepticon. "Well, not a lot personally, per say. But a lot of them are regular faces around Cybertron for their achievements. Especially Perceptor. He's leader of the Science Guild and holds a very influential, power seat on the Council."

"L-leader? O-oh my... I would not be suitable to receive such an honor! I m-mean..."

"What?! You're totally worthy of that title!," Sideswipe protested.

"Wait -what am I then?!," Wheeljack frowned, forgetting his own anger at the twins to speak his own piece at this shared news. "Why is Perceptor leader of the Science Guild?"

"You," the corvette smirked, "Are really nothing more than an assistant to Perceptor. Though you can't complain too much, since nobody gets the privilege to both frag him and build his inventions."

Wheeljack was too stunned to say anything. The Twins though, were quite vocal once more at this fact. Squirming uncomfortably as he was passed over to Sunstreaker, Perceptor tried to remain focused on their guests. "S-so... Soundwave does not k-know many mechs, whether Decepticon or Autobot?," he asked.

"Well, no...," Tracks answered, smiling wryly. "He's a young mech, created by Megatron while the tyrant was back on Earth. He's only seen the few Autobots there; Decepticons as well. Hasn't even seen our lovely home Cybertron yet, my poor boy." The corvette reached up and patted Soundwave on the cheek vent as he said this.

"Truly?," Perceptor gasped. "Soundwave is Megatron's creation?"

The two warriors snorted at that revelation. "Wow... and you were making fun of other people's interfacing habits? At least we're not fragging a sparkling!"

"Tracks, you continue to amaze me with your need to 'face...," Wheeljack commented dryly.

"I take offense to that!"

"You should!," three voices snarled back.

"Now, see here- ack! Soundwave!" Glowering, Soundwave lifted Tracks up, slinging the Autobot over a shoulder and marching to the exit; ignoring the other mech's squirming and aghast cries "Darling, put me down please! Really... I am quite able to walk! And just where are you taking me anyways?!"

"Answer: to the rec room for refuel. Visit: over."

"Ah, Soundwave..." the corvette pouted, as the two finally left.

"Thank Primus," Wheeljack mumbled, turning to his work table and collapsing into a chair.

"Umm..."

"Sideswipe, Sunstreaker -feel free to take Perceptor back to your quarters and frag him senseless. Whatever will get you out of my lab fastest..."

"Yes sir!," was the eager response.

xxXxXxx

Perceptor was tired.

Staggering slightly, the scientist continued to stumble down the hallway, intakes heavy. He seriously needed to recharge after the invigorating activities Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had just put him through... but he knew that if he didn't refuel first before recharging, then his systems would be aching all the next orn from the near burn-out. As it was, both of his lovers were currently knocked out back in their room, fast asleep. Otherwise they would have gladly gone and grabbed a cube for the scientist themselves.

Entering into the rec room, Perceptor was surprised to see Tracks slumped over a table, deep in recharge. His Decepticon companion, Soundwave, was nowhere to be found. Shuffling nervously in place, Perceptor wondered if he should wake the other Autobot or leave him alone. He realized soon after that there was nowhere he could direct Tracks to anyhow if he roused him from recharge, and the mech just might possibly be cranky when woken. Either that, or he would continue his flirtations from earlier. Both were things that, admittedly, the scientist did not wish to deal with right now.

As silently as he could, Perceptor headed over to the energon dispenser; quickly pouring himself a cube before turning and hurrying from the room. He was down the hall and just around the corner when he caught Soundwave coming down from the other end. Curious, the scientist stopped, watching from around the corner as the Decepticon entered the rec room.

He knew he should have not been so nosy, but really, Perceptor was just as fascinated as unnerved by these other-worldy counterparts. What, he wondered, were they like when no one was watching? How did they interact with each other, when Tracks himself was not busy gossiping and causing all sorts of strife?

Tip-toeing quietly, the scientist made his way back to the room.

He hesitated, debating with himself further, before Perceptor decided to throw all caution to the wind and peek inside the rec room. He had to stifle the gasp that followed next. Soundwave was lifting Tracks from his chair, cradling the corvette close as he moved the Autobot. Tracks immediately curled into the other's chassis, stirring but not waking from recharge still. Being mindful of his partner's wings, the Decepticon moved across the room; settling down slowly on the couch. With a gesture most loving and gentle, he rearranged Tracks' position so that the corvette was now folded comfortably across his lap, helm resting on the other's chestplates. Winding his arms about the Autobot, Soundwave dimmed his visor, silently watching the other mech sleep as he too began to slip into recharge.

Deciding he was prying into an affair too private, the scientist hastily turned away from the doorway and padded softly back down the hall. All the while, wondering in awe the amount of love and devotion that a Decepticon could have for a 'bot of the opposite faction.

xxXxXxx

"Yo."

"Ah, Jazz," Prowl greeted distractedly as the saboteur sidled up from seemingly nowhere. "I've been wondering where you've gotten off to..."

"Really, Prowler. 'Cause wit' yer nose shov'd inta that datapad there, I say ya hardly notic'd meh absence."

The SIC sighed, pulling the report from his face. "Well, special circumstances aside, work still needs to be done around here Jazz, and I am sad to say that the Third-in-Command is currently busy sneaking about; intent on popping out and frightening every mech and femme that crosses his path."

"'Ey, c'mon! I'm bein' a ninja here!," Jazz pouted.

"Correction: trying. But you neither are nor will be a ninja. Even if your area of expertise falls under subterfuge and information collection..."

"But oth'r Jazz is a ninja...," the saboteur continued to sulk.

"And other Jazz happens to be in another dimension. Your argument is then invalid," Prowl stated. He paused, looking at the other mech oddly. "Why are you suddenly so concerned about emulating your counterpart?"

"Jus' 'cause," Jazz answered vaguely, turning and looking at the wall.

"Right...," Prowl drawled. He shuffled the datapads in his arm, continuing on his way down the hall. The Special Ops officer followed him. "Red Alert has submitted a very long and gruelling report about the laxness some of the Autobots are giving to security protocol and such. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that specifically, would you Jazz?"

"Uh... nope!"

"Mhmm... quite. In either case, where have our two guests gone off to now? I believe word is that they were found asleep in the rec room this morning, but that Tracks was quick to disappear afterwards. Soundwave is currently scouring the base for him as well. Any indication on where both might be?"

"Well...," Jazz said innocently. "I may or may not 'ave heard someone whisper 'bout Tracks dyin' 't meet his oth'r self an' runnin' off 't find Tracks, wit' a camcord'r in his possession. An' Soundwave I believe was headin' in the direction o' Wheeljack's lab, last time I check'd. Dude seem'd awfully desp'rate 't git back home an' fast. Wond'r why..."

Prowl resisted to roll his optical sensors. "Yes, I wonder why he might seem anxious to return back to his world. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the other Tracks seems overtly eager to be in our world, and flirting with almost every mech he comes across. Surely, Soundwave, despite being a Decepticon, is not at all threatened in any way by that."

"Yer a sarcastic kinda mech, ain't ya Prowler..."

"You didn't notice?"

"Nah...," Jazz grinned, "I jus' nev'r notic'd 'ow sexy ya made it."

"Well, now you know," Prowl quipped. The SIC turned up at the next corner, leaving Jazz to come to a pause just at the end of the hall. "Oh, and Jazz?"

"Yea?," the saboteur asked, looking at the Datsun curiously. Prowl glanced back over a doorwing, a smirk playing at his usually neutral faceplates.

"If you're so eager to catch my attentions, try coming into my office at the end of this shift. We can have a chat, then."

Smirk growing bigger, the SIC continued on his way, leaving a very stunned but excited saboteur behind him.