Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack become partners in the fledgling police system they've started.

AN- Chapter title inspired by all the quotes about "do it, Wrecker style" Wheeljack spouts in the show.
Having rewatched TFP in its entirety, I've decided I ship these two
That said, this isn't all that much ship-ier than Chit Chat was

New Iacon didn't have many oil houses or energon shops yet. The construction effort had made enough buildings that a few of them were already rented out. Some of the newcomers had parked their ships on the surface and built up around them. It was in one of these pseudo shops that they were sitting. An energon cafe sitting at a junction between three roads.

A steel slab jutting from the ship had been turned into a cosy table. A few decorative crystals were in a jar atop the 'table' and other accessories cluttered around it.

The clutter of it was annoying Magnus. That was evident in the way his servos fidgeted when they were resting on the table top.

Heh. When had he ever got so good at reading the commander?

Personally, Wheeljack found the decor here very charming. It had the whole rusty but new era look to it, just like so many of the shops and cafes of the reborn planet. The clutter was comely and the way the shop was designed partially under roofing and partially under the sky was especially appealing.

Magnus would probably rather it just decide on being indoors or out.

"You see 'em?" the smaller mech broke the quiet. For a moment, he was sure he'd get called out on making too much noise.

"No, I do not," came Magnus's even reply.

Typical. They went quiet again. The blue mech's servos fidgetted towards the central clutter. Wheeljack sipped the energon cube he had ordered.

If the servers saw them, they probably would just assume it was two war heroes catching a moment of relaxation together.

This may have been slow going, but it was far from r&r time. His optics were scanning the streets this shop sat by.

"'you really think they'll be coming this way?" he spoke up again.

The big mech looked away from the table decor to look at the street again. Knowing Magnus, he was probably analyzing the area and potential routes of escape and chase.

"All evidence would suggest that."

He looked away from the streets to stare at Wheeljack.

"We can only hope so," he added.

His face went clear for a moment while he listened, and likely responded, to a comm. Wheeljack heard it as well.

There weren't many of them, but the four of them did all communicate pretty thoroughly. Even the Wrecker did. Some of the times. On occasion.

Alright, so maybe he kept a close watch on his younger two companions. Both had gusto but lacked experience. So when it came down to it, Wheeljack made them report in and gave them warnings whenever someone of interest came near their proximity. He didn't plan on letting a couple virtual sparklings die because he hadn't done enough.

And maybe he reported in across the comms to his commander as well. Or chief, that's what they were going with by now, wasn't it? The title he'd used on Earth had stuck.

Magnus liked all the reports. All the 'asking' for 'permission' that was half a joke and half...affectionate. "Permission to use a grenade in a confined space?" "Permission to clear the area?"

Of course Wheeljack didn't actually wait for permission from officers. Chain of command? He'd tossed that aside long ago.

...about the same time Magnus had taken over the Wreckers.

Then the officer had his servo crushed, just when Wheeljack "was beginin' to tolerate" him, was avoided by everyone else, had Ratchet keeping him berthridden when he so obviously wanted to help out-

It had been Wheeljack that told the medic to let Magnus come back.

And the blue mech had been impressive in a fight even without a servo.

He'd caught Arcee giving him looks. After all, it had been her that he'd talked to about everything peeling his plating at the time. To go from that to sticking up for Magnus, staying by his side, being so mindful about asking permission- it was a bit at odds with everything.

Time had passed by on Cybertron without any need to do any of that anymore. He and Magnus both had tried to find peacetime roles. Magnus had taken on responsibilities relating to filing the newcomers, organizing reports, clearing requests.

Well, he did have a horridly rigid and boring processor. He was good at the tasks.

But Wheeljack felt like it was a huge waste of skill.

So he wouldn't obey Magnus if they were both still in the Wreckers. But that group wasn't much needed anymore. There was no war with the 'cons.

That didn't mean there was no trouble.

A bombing had shaken up many apartments not long after New Iacon began to have a bigger populace. Magnus's apartment had been caught in the damage, though it was back to pristine orderliness now. A riot or two had began and caused some chaos before Bumblebee had managed to calm most everyone down. That mech was fantastic at PR. Mech's like Wheeljack and Magnus were both far less good for public image for different reasons.

Regardless, it wasn't fair for Bumblebee to have to try to keep everything calm.

Burglaries were unavoidable. No one here was really rich but some shipments of mech's had items that seemed rare to those who hadn't gone through those segments of space while wandering. Vehicons reported harassment. Hate crimes reared their ugly heads on occasion.

Bottom line? It really shouldn't have been Bumblebee's job to keep everything in order.

Not when there were two perfectly good mechs for the job that happened to be in possession of far too much free time now that the war had ended.

Wheeljack had come up with the idea. To his own surprise, he had gone to Magnus first to pitch the idea.

After all, Wheeljack could deal with chases and fights and playing 'cowboy', to use the human Fowler's term, just fine but he had no wish to deal with the administration part. Magnus, on the other hand, had to be some sort of model for that sort of work.

They set some ground rules quick.

No 'leading'. Magnus wasn't going to be the commander to his soldier. They'd be on equal footing for this gig.

That had been a bit naive. But at least it had been up to Wheeljack to say he was alright with letting Magnus be the chief of this operation. It was so much easier to swallow when he was the one deciding it (quite unlike the untouchable high ups who knew nothing about the Wreckers as a unit but decided their officers anyways).

And it wasn't like Magnus could become some suffocating officer again. The blue mech had his own workload when it came to monitoring the new arrivals to the planet.

Whether that administrative work or this peacekeeping gig was his hobby or job, neither were sure.

And Wheeljack hadn't really had a place at all in this new world.

This, at least, felt a bit like those last cycles on Earth. He had grown to rather like those last cycles. It was a comforting familiarity without all the former aggravation Magnus used to bring about.

Plus it came with the added perks of living on Cybertron and the unique little landmarks New Iacon let him visit.

Like this fun little shop they were sharing energon at.

If it wasn't for the comm line both kept open with their other two, this could feel like a date. A cozy hang out.

That did sound oddly appealing, but the suspense of the chase made this twice the fun for Wheeljack.

«we're coming in the east airway. optics are on our guy now.»

The chief and the fighter shared a glance over the table.

«together?» Wheeljack asked across the comm. «we want to get him trapped in the middle, not in the lead of a chase»

«correct.» Magnus nodded at the smaller mech and the Wrecker felt oddly validated. «sol-...Rust.» the commander was still having difficulty calling mech's by their given names rather than a title like 'soldier', «split off and attempt to block his path west.»

Cutting off, the blue mech asked aloud: "Are you ready?"

Wheeljack made the thumbs up gesture he'd learned from Earth.

They turned to glance at the roads. Wheeljack's energon cube folded under his grip the more he tensed in waiting.

Finally the perp sped down the eastern roadway; a small gray vehicle with the design of some colony brand and no doubt containing the stolen goods inside.

Without sparing another click, Wheeljack rose out of his chair and folded down into the sports vehicle from Earth; he could catch up with that colony car easy.

The metal streets of Cybertron kicked up no dust when he revved and sped away from the shop. The chief wasn't much good in a chase so there wasn't a reason to wait up for him.

Besides, when it came to speed-

He heard the flaps before he felt the gust of air. Overhead, one of the smaller Predacons that had once tried to disembowel Magnus (Wheeljack still wasn't a big fan of the sparkling for that alone, though Magnus himself acted as if the attack had been forgotten in the wake of Unicron's attack) shot by. The suspect panicked at the claws bearing down at him.

Unfortunately, his panic only let him react quicker. He squealed down a tight corner; Wheeljack took a few clicks too long to right his own direction and follow down the alley. Skylynx reared, claws rending into the street he'd come too close to, and flapped back up into the air he held an advantage in. Then the young Predacon was out of his view and Wheeljack was alone in the tight backstreet. Debris and junk lay out of half-finished buildings; it made it hard for him to navigate, though the suspect in front of him used his small size to take advantage of the narrow path.

No matter how he would transform to leap over particularly problematic heaps of junk and revved as fast as the conditions would let him, Wheeljack still fell behind. Magnus was asking something over the comm and in the moment it was an irritating interruption to something that required too much focus; that is, losing. The gray Cybertronian paused a moment at the exit of the backstreet to taunt him and then pulled out into the open.

Something far larger than his alt mode crashed down into him.

The brown Vehicon kept their pede crushed into the hood of the suspect while their dark faceplate shot up to look at Wheeljack. The Wrecker transformed and walked forward in his casually slow gait.

Rust didn't say a thing when Wheeljack reached him and gestured for them to step off of the thief. Even for a Vehicon, they were rather quiet.

It made them far more inoffensive than Skylynx. But these were the volunteers that had come when he and Magnus had opened the opportunity. Sure, there were many volunteers. Bright optic'd rookies like Smokescreen that wanted a luxurious life of action and excitement.

Most of the survivors of the war had no interest in action or excitement anymore. And most of those who expressed interest failed to make it past the many examinations Magnus insisted on doing. So in the end, the only two either of them had been remotely alright with were the rookie griffin and aged drone.

And Wheeljack still had many issues with the Predacon for what he'd done to Magnus.

Well, it was no Team Prime. And Wheeljack had made sure it wouldn't resemble the past of the Wreckers.

But wouldn't you know it, it was a team that worked just fine.

Catching small fry criminals and easing Bumblebee's ever growing load.

And it gave him an excuse to catch energon and conversations with Magnus in the city (he had a self imposed duty to teach the stoic mech how to appreciate sarcasm and relaxation). With the way the blue mech spent his off time working, they likely wouldn't get this chance without both playing cowboys.

It felt like those good moments on Earth at the end.

Just with more Cybertron and indie shops and rookies in law than he remembered.

AN- Rust, or XL-R991, was mentioned in chapter 5