Unpredictable (Transformers, Megatron/Starscream, PG)

[laurus-nobilis.livejournal.com]

Title: Unpredictable
Author: laurus_nobilis
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 935
Prompt: Transformers G1: Megatron/Starscream: Rare hints of companionship amidst fights, power struggles, and treachery: "It was times like these that told Megatron he'd made the right decision in choosing his second in command."
Summary: Even after all this time, Starscream still managed to be incredibly confusing.


"Well, congratulations, Mighty Megatron, you have outdone yourself! This has to be your most ridiculous plan so far."

"Shut up, Starscream," he said, mostly out of habit. He was too busy assessing the damage to come up with something more specific. Not that he needed to deign such nonsense with a better answer. Let Starscream think you were actually paying attention and then he’d ramble even longer.

... besides, he was wrong in any case, since the explosion hadn’t been part of the plan. But it wasn’t as if he was going to admit that.

And where were they, anyway?

"And who knows how far we’ve ended up, could be miles, with the force of that blast and the wind conditions and – are you even listening to me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"I’m trying to solve your problem here, you know!"

"No, you are whining," he said. "As usual."

Starscream looked ready to explode. Megatron prepared himself to ignore yet another neverending rant – and then, all of a sudden, the Seeker simply sat down on the ground and started picking up bits of charred metal, mumbling to himself about why exactly it was such a bad idea to leave a slagging Insecticon in charge of building weapons. It was... disconcerting, to say the least.

Not worrying, though. It was, Megatron reassured himself, certainly not worrying. His second in command was an incompetent fool whose actions always ended in inevitable failure, and nothing he did was ever a reason to be concerned. But he had to give it to him: even after all this time, he still managed to be incredibly confusing.

"Enough of that nonsense," he said. "We’re going back to headquarters."

"Really?" Starscream asked, all sweetness and light, without even looking at him. "And where exactly is that, oh mighty leader?"

For a fleeting moment, he hoped that didn’t mean what he thought it meant. But, sure enough, a quick check revealed that none of his location and positioning systems were working. At all. His optics narrowed to a dangerous slit.

"Bombshell is going to die slowly and painfully."

"For once I’d love to help," the Seeker muttered.

He was still occupying himself with – well, whatever it was he was trying to build with those scraps. Megatron didn’t even bother to ask what it was. It was an explanation he had no interest in. He was too busy being angry at each and every one of his subordinates, anyway. Sometimes they sent him into uncontrollable fits of rage. And other times, like now, they just made him feel so very, very tired.

"Fools, all of them," he muttered to himself. "I’m surrounded by useless, bumbling fools."

"Oh, I know that feeling."

"Really, now."

Starscream glanced up from his work at last, with a bored look.

"I get to deal with Skywarp," was his only explanation. In a rare moment of distraction, Megatron found himself nodding in understanding – but he quickly collected himself.

"You do realize," he pointed out, "that the main source of chaos, failure and sheer ineptitude in our ranks is you."

"That is completely different!" the Seeker screeched. Then, without warning, his defiant frown turned into an inexplicable smirk. "I do it on purpose."

... of course. It figured that he’d say something like that. That was just how he was: arrogant, tricky, unpredictable. He always wanted to have the last word. All very praiseworthy qualities in a Decepticon, of course, not that Megatron would ever say that to his face. But he had to admit that even these ridiculous comebacks showcased his good points. Cleverness. Resourcefulness. Quick-thinking. It was times like these that told Megatron he'd made the right decision in choosing his second in command.

Too bad the idiot focused his efforts entirely in the wrong direction, most of the time.

Still, this time, Starscream’s insolence earned him no more than an almost good-natured slap to the head. At least he had enough sense to be amusing.

"Your basic survival programming must be glitching," he said, with a glare that probably wasn’t half as menacing as he’d intended. The Seeker’s expression didn’t change in the least.

"I blame Bombshell."

And that was the other thing. Starscream was pretty much the only person who could make him honestly, openly laugh without world domination plans or violence involved. (Although the combination of Starscream and violence was funny, too, in a completely different way.) Yes, it tended to give him that smug look when it happened, as if he considered this having some kind of power over his leader – no matter how small. But it was worth it. As long as Megatron made sure to show him who was in charge, it most certainly was.

"Come on," he ordered once he’d sobered himself, grabbing his arm to make him stand up. "We’re leaving. I’m sick of this place."

The Seeker stared at him, then at the half-built gadget in his hands, then at Megatron again.

"Are your memory files corrupt or something?" he asked. "We don’t even know where we are, let alone which way to go –"

"We fly west until we find the ocean."

Starscream opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, raised his hands in frustration, and finally – finally – gave up.

"Why. Didn’t you say something. Earlier."

"Oh, but you were having such fun with your little toys," he replied. He would have been the very picture of innocence if it wasn’t for the fact that, the more the Seeker’s optics narrowed, the more he felt his own smirk grow wide.

"... I hate you."

"I know."