Fic -- Stargazing
Sep. 9th, 2006 02:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dunmurderinTitle: Stargazing
Pairing/Characters: Ironhide, Optimus Prime (implied maybe/kindasorta Ironhide/Prime)
Rating: PG (mild slashy references)
Word Count: Approximately 1,153 words
Author's note: Takes place during G1 at some point after "Heavy Metal War" in the mid-to-late 1980s, possibly in the spring/early summer.
Winner of the first ever Mecha_Erotica fic/art challege. Click the link to read the other stories and see the art submitted.
Also, for the September challenge click on "Sin-tember".
Since I apparently exceeded my useage for the geocities site (how the heck that happened, I'm not sure), I'm going to C&P the story here:
Stargazing
The Ark was quiet at night with most of the crew taking their rest cycles then. Following an old xenominer tradition, Optimus had put the Ark and her crew on a schedule that matched the Earth day. It made adjustments to what was clearly going to be a long-term stay, as well as interacting with the humans, easier in the long run.
In the short run, it was strange living on a world where ‘days’ mattered. It was hard, sometimes, to understand the need for a unit of time that precise. Perhaps it would have been easier if he’d been created a scientist. Perceptor certainly had no trouble with ‘days’ or ‘hours’ or ‘minutes’ or even the fiddly little ‘seconds’ that the humans used so casually. But for himself, he preferred ‘vorns’ and ‘breems’ -- units of time you could feel.
“I’m too old for this,” Ironhide said aloud to himself as he stood in the Ark’s doorway and looked up at the night sky.
“You’ve been saying that since before I became Prime,” Optimus’s voice was low and amused. “Were you ever young?”
“Aww, Prime, you know better than to sneak up on a guy like that! I shoulda shot you.” Ironhide’s hand went to his pistol. “Still might, if you don’t give me the proper password.”
“The password is ‘Dynasty’,” Prime said, his blue optics dimmed so as to make less of a target in the darkness.
“Dallas,” Ironhide replied, with a nod. “Using human phrases is a good idea. The Decepticons aren’t likely to understand ‘em. Primus knows I don‘t.”
“Carly chose them,” Optimus said. “I believe she’s introduced some of the others to the programs.”
“Never seen them,” Ironhide said, lowering his weapon. “Can’t follow those human shows, they all talk too fast an’ most of em all look alike.”
Prime chuckled. “I know what you mean. I accidentally called Chip ‘Carly’ the other day. Spike nearly fell over laughing.”
Ironhide grinned, leaning against the doorframe as he looked up at the night sky again. Prime stepped closer to him, joining him in silence.
“If you look just right,” Ironhide said. “You can see the Shattered Chain from here.”
“Really?” Prime scanned the heavens. “Where?”
Ironhide leaned over, resting a hand on Prime’s shoulder. “Over there,” he said, pointing. “Left of the moon, about four degrees up. Look for an orange star and follow it and you’ll see the broken cuff at the top of the chain.”
They stood there, Ironhide’s hand in place. “I see it,” Prime said, sounding pleased. “It’s lower than it usually is, but I believe you’re right, that’s the Shattered Chain.”
“It’s a good omen.” Ironhide let his hand drop down to the small of Prime’s back. “That we can see it and that it’s still broken.”
Prime nodded. ‘I agree -- though, do you really think the stars can have that kind of an effect on us?”
Ironhide grunted, fingers rubbing in a slow, lazy circle over Prime’s back. “My creator did -- ‘least she believed in it enough to teach me the old stories she learned from her mentor, who remembered the times before the Emancipation,” he said. “Me, I don’t know. Sometimes, I think it’s all a load of scoria, but then I’ve seen a lot of strangeness in my time and I’d rather not risk having the omens against me.”
Optimus simply nodded, companionably. “The Road Home is particularly bright tonight,” he said, gesturing upwards.
Ironhide looked up again, staring at the hazy band of stars arching across the night sky. “That it is,” he said, hand sliding up Prime’s back. “Another good omen, the promise we’ll be returning home.”
“Indeed.” Prime’s shoulders tensed. “A promise I intend to keep, just as soon as possible.”
Ironhide rubbed between Prime’s shoulders, slow circles but with more pressure than before. “We all know you’ll get us back,” he said, letting his fingers trace the charms for ‘tranquility’ and ‘strength’ that he’d learned so long before. It would have been better to have Prime lay flat and use iron filings, but there was a limit to how many superstitions his friend would tolerate. And, in truth, the charms’ greatest power came from belief anyway -- his own, if not Prime’s. “We all trust you, Prime. Even the gripers, they know you’ll do right by us.”
They stood in silence, staring up at the ghostly whiteness of the Road Home -- what the humans called the Milky Way. Part of Ironhide wondered, not for the first time, why such an important celestial landmark would be named after a candy bar, but then that was humans for you. They lived so briefly, who could expect them to understand the importance of the stars?
The rest of his mind concerned itself with Prime. His leader’s shoulders slowly started to relax. Whether it was from the charms, the pep talk, the backrub or some combination of all three, Ironhide didn’t care. All that mattered was that Prime’s tension eased. Introspection was good, but over-indulgence in it was a slippery slope -- especially with Primes. He’d seen too many good commanders defeat themselves by giving in to indecision and self-pity to allow such a thing to happen to his Prime.
“Thank you, Ironhide,” Prime said, reaching over to clasp him by the shoulder. “You’re a good friend.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ironhide said. “It’s what I’m here for. To protect you, even from yourself.”
“If that’s a dig about that blasted honor duel with Megatron,” Prime said, mock-angrily. “Save it, I’ve heard them all.”
“Well, you gotta admit, Prime it wasn’t one of your brighter moments,” Ironhide grinned at the younger mech. “For a moment, it was like looking back in time at the piston-revving young punk you used to be. All fumes, no fuel.”
Prime’s laugh was loud enough to startle some nearby organic creature, sending it crashing away from the Ark in a panic. “You’ll never let me live those days down, will you?”
“Nope,” Ironhide said proudly. “It’s for your own good. Keeps you humble.”
“And if it also amuses you, that’s just a fringe benefit, right old friend?” Prime reached over, squeezing his shoulder tightly, before cupping the back of Ironhide’s head in his hand. There was a faint tickle as Prime’s fingers clumsily stroking the finger-spelling for ‘thanks’ onto Ironhide’s helm.
“One of many,” Ironhide said with a nod. “Jazz’ll be here soon, you planning on jawing his audials off too or you want to join me while I refuel?”
“I suppose I could do that,” Prime said, dropping his hand back to Ironhide’s shoulder. “Until then, shall we see what other omens followed us here?”
Pairing/Characters: Ironhide, Optimus Prime (implied maybe/kindasorta Ironhide/Prime)
Rating: PG (mild slashy references)
Word Count: Approximately 1,153 words
Author's note: Takes place during G1 at some point after "Heavy Metal War" in the mid-to-late 1980s, possibly in the spring/early summer.
Winner of the first ever Mecha_Erotica fic/art challege. Click the link to read the other stories and see the art submitted.
Also, for the September challenge click on "Sin-tember".
Since I apparently exceeded my useage for the geocities site (how the heck that happened, I'm not sure), I'm going to C&P the story here:
The Ark was quiet at night with most of the crew taking their rest cycles then. Following an old xenominer tradition, Optimus had put the Ark and her crew on a schedule that matched the Earth day. It made adjustments to what was clearly going to be a long-term stay, as well as interacting with the humans, easier in the long run.
In the short run, it was strange living on a world where ‘days’ mattered. It was hard, sometimes, to understand the need for a unit of time that precise. Perhaps it would have been easier if he’d been created a scientist. Perceptor certainly had no trouble with ‘days’ or ‘hours’ or ‘minutes’ or even the fiddly little ‘seconds’ that the humans used so casually. But for himself, he preferred ‘vorns’ and ‘breems’ -- units of time you could feel.
“I’m too old for this,” Ironhide said aloud to himself as he stood in the Ark’s doorway and looked up at the night sky.
“You’ve been saying that since before I became Prime,” Optimus’s voice was low and amused. “Were you ever young?”
“Aww, Prime, you know better than to sneak up on a guy like that! I shoulda shot you.” Ironhide’s hand went to his pistol. “Still might, if you don’t give me the proper password.”
“The password is ‘Dynasty’,” Prime said, his blue optics dimmed so as to make less of a target in the darkness.
“Dallas,” Ironhide replied, with a nod. “Using human phrases is a good idea. The Decepticons aren’t likely to understand ‘em. Primus knows I don‘t.”
“Carly chose them,” Optimus said. “I believe she’s introduced some of the others to the programs.”
“Never seen them,” Ironhide said, lowering his weapon. “Can’t follow those human shows, they all talk too fast an’ most of em all look alike.”
Prime chuckled. “I know what you mean. I accidentally called Chip ‘Carly’ the other day. Spike nearly fell over laughing.”
Ironhide grinned, leaning against the doorframe as he looked up at the night sky again. Prime stepped closer to him, joining him in silence.
“If you look just right,” Ironhide said. “You can see the Shattered Chain from here.”
“Really?” Prime scanned the heavens. “Where?”
Ironhide leaned over, resting a hand on Prime’s shoulder. “Over there,” he said, pointing. “Left of the moon, about four degrees up. Look for an orange star and follow it and you’ll see the broken cuff at the top of the chain.”
They stood there, Ironhide’s hand in place. “I see it,” Prime said, sounding pleased. “It’s lower than it usually is, but I believe you’re right, that’s the Shattered Chain.”
“It’s a good omen.” Ironhide let his hand drop down to the small of Prime’s back. “That we can see it and that it’s still broken.”
Prime nodded. ‘I agree -- though, do you really think the stars can have that kind of an effect on us?”
Ironhide grunted, fingers rubbing in a slow, lazy circle over Prime’s back. “My creator did -- ‘least she believed in it enough to teach me the old stories she learned from her mentor, who remembered the times before the Emancipation,” he said. “Me, I don’t know. Sometimes, I think it’s all a load of scoria, but then I’ve seen a lot of strangeness in my time and I’d rather not risk having the omens against me.”
Optimus simply nodded, companionably. “The Road Home is particularly bright tonight,” he said, gesturing upwards.
Ironhide looked up again, staring at the hazy band of stars arching across the night sky. “That it is,” he said, hand sliding up Prime’s back. “Another good omen, the promise we’ll be returning home.”
“Indeed.” Prime’s shoulders tensed. “A promise I intend to keep, just as soon as possible.”
Ironhide rubbed between Prime’s shoulders, slow circles but with more pressure than before. “We all know you’ll get us back,” he said, letting his fingers trace the charms for ‘tranquility’ and ‘strength’ that he’d learned so long before. It would have been better to have Prime lay flat and use iron filings, but there was a limit to how many superstitions his friend would tolerate. And, in truth, the charms’ greatest power came from belief anyway -- his own, if not Prime’s. “We all trust you, Prime. Even the gripers, they know you’ll do right by us.”
They stood in silence, staring up at the ghostly whiteness of the Road Home -- what the humans called the Milky Way. Part of Ironhide wondered, not for the first time, why such an important celestial landmark would be named after a candy bar, but then that was humans for you. They lived so briefly, who could expect them to understand the importance of the stars?
The rest of his mind concerned itself with Prime. His leader’s shoulders slowly started to relax. Whether it was from the charms, the pep talk, the backrub or some combination of all three, Ironhide didn’t care. All that mattered was that Prime’s tension eased. Introspection was good, but over-indulgence in it was a slippery slope -- especially with Primes. He’d seen too many good commanders defeat themselves by giving in to indecision and self-pity to allow such a thing to happen to his Prime.
“Thank you, Ironhide,” Prime said, reaching over to clasp him by the shoulder. “You’re a good friend.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ironhide said. “It’s what I’m here for. To protect you, even from yourself.”
“If that’s a dig about that blasted honor duel with Megatron,” Prime said, mock-angrily. “Save it, I’ve heard them all.”
“Well, you gotta admit, Prime it wasn’t one of your brighter moments,” Ironhide grinned at the younger mech. “For a moment, it was like looking back in time at the piston-revving young punk you used to be. All fumes, no fuel.”
Prime’s laugh was loud enough to startle some nearby organic creature, sending it crashing away from the Ark in a panic. “You’ll never let me live those days down, will you?”
“Nope,” Ironhide said proudly. “It’s for your own good. Keeps you humble.”
“And if it also amuses you, that’s just a fringe benefit, right old friend?” Prime reached over, squeezing his shoulder tightly, before cupping the back of Ironhide’s head in his hand. There was a faint tickle as Prime’s fingers clumsily stroking the finger-spelling for ‘thanks’ onto Ironhide’s helm.
“One of many,” Ironhide said with a nod. “Jazz’ll be here soon, you planning on jawing his audials off too or you want to join me while I refuel?”
“I suppose I could do that,” Prime said, dropping his hand back to Ironhide’s shoulder. “Until then, shall we see what other omens followed us here?”
