Megatron is a Troll

"AS I WAS SAYING, replace each individual galaxy cluster with a cluster of universes, and you get a rough approximation of how the multiverse works. Or as close to it as mortal minds can comprehend."

"…"

"Was that explanation satisfactory, milady?"

"…you said galaxy."

"…"

"HA!"

"DAMN IT, FEMME!"

"MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA! VICTORY IS MINE!"

"Why, exactly, can't I just walk?" Fixit whined uncomfortably.

Megatron gave into the urge to roll his optics. "Because you yourself admitted that that would use more of the energy reserves than would be wise."

"Well…yeah, but…"

He gave her a Look. She cringed sheepishly.

"Sorry."

The ex-warlord shook his helm tiredly, venting softly in exasperation as he carried the uncomfortable Eradicon bridal-style in his arms. One of the few benefits about being upgraded by Unicron- he rarely tired physically anymore.

"…wouldn't it be less tiring- whoa!"

Fixit instinctively clung to Megatron's neck as he stumbled slightly. Then she realized what she was doing.

"Sorry!" she yelped, jerking her arms back.

And throwing him off balance again.

Causing her to cling once more.

This cycle repeated a couple more times before Megatron finally snapped.

"Fixit, enough!" The Eradicon froze, arms in the air. "Just- leave your arms around my neck. The world will hardly end if you touch me," he grumbled, slightly irritated by just how uncomfortable the femme was around him.

"Sorry," she mumbled, gingerly wrapping her arms back around his neck. "I just- I don't- I know you don't like being touched, so…um…"

He frowned curiously down at her, but she was avoiding his gaze nervously. "…what gave you that idea?" he asked. Sure, it was generally true, but there were a few he didn't mind occasional non-violent physical contact with. Soundwave and Fixit, being his most loyal, were the biggest exceptions.

Although, given how surprised the Eradicon was when he called the femme his lieutenant, maybe it was possible Fixit didn't know that…

"Well, the only time you touched anyone on the Nemesis was either to fight or threaten them, unless you were getting repaired. And then it was for medical reasons, so obvious exception there…" she trailed off into his chestplates. "Except maybe if you commended Shockwave or Soundwave or someone with a hand on their shoulder or something similar…"

He watched her out of the corner of his optic as he strode along, thinking. The femme wasn't relaxing at all, despite him saying it was alright. So…

Fixit tightened her grip as he stumbled slightly again, the wet Rocky Mountains soil soft and squishy from the recent morning rain. "Sorry," she murmured, loosening her grip as much as she could without throwing off his balance again.

He walked on a few more meters…before he stumbled once more.

And then again after that.

And again.

After the latest time, Fixit frowned up at him. "Am I blocking your view of the ground? Because I can walk."

Megatron rolled his optics. "You're not walking, Fixit."

Cue stumble.

Only this time, Fixit was looking at him, and thus saw the mischievous glint in his optics. She sputtered in shock, causing his lips to twitch slightly.

"You- what- you're doing that on purpose!?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied evenly, stoically gazing ahead. Only the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth gave him away.

"You…" She huffed indignantly, amused despite herself. "Well played, sir. Well played."

And with that, she finally relaxed into his hold as he dropped the stoic mask in favor of chuckling in satisfaction.

Megatron leaned against the rock bluff, eyeing the Autobot patrol going by below. The ex-warlord was contemplating how to approach them without being attacked. Of course, it would have been easier to plan had the femme gently venting onto his neck cabling been awake to offer advice, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Fixit obviously needed the rest, judging by how fast he fell into recharge once he finally relaxed.

Wait…didn't Soundwave mention that one of Fixit's favorite Vehicon minions had gotten sent to this world as well?

Ravage gladly sold Steve out when his Lord commed him. Let the Roomba handle the incoming acid storm, Ravage had enough to do prank- er, spying on the wanna-bes.

The symbiont was just glad he had stocked up on coffee before coming here. Frenzy and Wildrider were incredibly disruptive (and convenient) distractions when continually doped up with caffeine!

Steve paced his and Fixit's quarters irritably. Both Prime and Prowl were unconscious in medbay from the Decepticons' attacks today…and none of the rest of the Autobots were in any shape to go haring off on a rescue mission deep in enemy territory either.

Logically, he knew Jazz was right, that the Cons would be too busy celebrating and recovering themselves to do anything to Fixit just yet, but…

…but Fixit was the one being that had always believed in him. Even when he didn't believe in himself. Where others had looked at him and seen a common drone, Fixit had seen an individual, with a right to his own opinions…with a right to want something more. And then the femme had made sure he had the opportunity to get it.

Oh, he knew he was far from the only one the crazy Eradicon had done this for. That was why the Nemesis' entire contingent of Roombas practically worshiped the femme, after all.

(He hadn't actually been joking when he mentioned the cult the others were building around her. Frag, he actually joined the slagging thing!)

Anyways, the point was, there was no fragging way he was leaving Fixit alone in enemy territory!

…not that he could do anything about it.

What was the point of this rant, again?

Steve frowned as he tried to figure out what had happened to his train of thought, ceasing his pacing for a moment.

And of course, that was when he got a comm from-

"LORD MEGATRON!?"

:Ravage, you fragger! How could you sell me out?! I thought we had something special!:

Ravage rolled his optics, not even bothering to reply to the drama queen.

:I'm gonna diiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee!:

Why oh why did both Prime and Prowl have to be unconscious right now?! Red Alert and Ironhide were going to freak and murder everything in sight!

Well, at least Steve could pass on the processor-ache by talking to Jazz first…

Jazz cradled his aching helm in his servos. First the long, horrible fight against the Cons, then getting put in charge since Prime and Prowl were out of commission before discovering exactly why Red was ranting about Fixit deserting to the Cons and locking Steve in the brig…

…and now apparently Steve and Fixit's Megatron was here. With Fixit. Just outside the Ark.

Could this day get any worse!?

Then he yelped as he realized what he just thought. "Ah take i' back!"

Steve jumped from where he had been standing apologetically. "What?"

Jazz waved his servo at him. "Nah, no' yah, jus'…"

"Oh. You tempted fate," Steve groaned. "Great, one more misfortune to look forwards to…"

They vented resignedly in unison.

"Fine, Ah'll send a couple o' bots ou' wit yah," Jazz conceded, rubbing his helm at the thought of the paperwork this would produce. "Bu' unless Megsy promises ta behave, Ah can' le' 'im in."

"Fair enough."

A/N: I like writing my version of Prime!tron. Especially since he's one of the few who can mess with Fixit successfully.

Also, there is a surprising amount of fluff(y bonding things) going on in this chapter. I totally did not mean for that to happen.

Ah well.

Also, I've narrowed down names to three choices based on the input I've received so far: Ashfall, Shatterguard, and Nightshade. These are just the most likely names I'll use, but not necessarily the final ones. So if you have any other ideas, now's the time!

C'est la vie.