Communication

Notes and disclaimer: Transformers isn't mine, I'm making no profit, blah blah blah. Nobody writes about this aspect of relationships, and it's about time somebody got around to it. (brushes the dust off the fanfiction gears) Oy...

It had been quiet for so long. Not the nice kind of quiet that came after a raid, where the crew of the Nemesis was tired and full and feeling accomplished. It was the awkward, peace-keeping kind of quiet that was caused by the crew of Strika's ship having to house themselves on the Nemesis until their own ship had been repaired. The quiet was full of warning glances and silent snarls, occasionally broken by the clang of two colliding shoulders or an elbow joint to the midriff. Megatron and Strika's presence kept the Decepticons from tearing each other apart like cuttlefish, and even Megatron was ready to thin the numbers of the already-thin Decepticon population..

The only two bots on the ship that looked like they weren't about to rip their shipmates apart were Lugnut and Strika, if only because they were readily distracted by each other's presence. They had gone through a brief "honeymoon" phase, but quick settled back into the routine they had (apparently) lived in before life called them back into space again. It was a strange sort of comfort in seeing their domestic tendencies at the forefront. It reminded the male crew of the life that awaited them once they reclaimed Cybertron, and it showed the one female crewmember other than Strika what the Decepticon lifestyle promised her once she had taken care of a few... details.

Today, it was one of those strained days on the bridge, with too many people on duty due to each ship's own roster and a lack of communication between the two captains. Lugnut was on his (and Oil Slick's) usual station, making Oil Slick take the monitor Blitzwing usually watched. This left Blitzwing on commlink duty, which inevitably left Blitzwing on Random mode making prank calls to Starscream, who was on his left trying to organize a box of fuses that Megatron had tossed at him to distract him. Megatron simply sat on his throne and fumed, waiting for the next shift of bots to come in so he could at least small-talk with Cyclonus.

Suddenly, the ship rattled with Strika's booming voice. "Lugnut!"

Lugnut turned in his seat, leaning on his arm and facing the door. "WHAT IS IT, DARLING?!"

"You left the lubricant on the berthside table!"

The room jumped to attention, then quickly settled down. Their minds had been addled by a few stellar-cycles of space travels, obviously. There were many types of lubricant they could be talking about.

"WHAT ABOUT IT, DARLING?"

Strika's voice, although somewhat muffled, was no less cacophonous. "It is cold now! Even if I were to put it back in the heating unit, it would not be warm by tonight!"

Starscream paused in his sorting to blink, and Oil Slick immediately stifled a snicker. Megatron shot the chemist a glance that quieted him quickly.

Lugnut huffed a bit. "THAT IS WHAT YOU GET FOR BUYING THE INDUSTRIAL SIZE VAT OF LUBRICANT. WHY DO YOU NOT JUST BUY THE MULTI-PACK OF SMALL BOTTLES?"

"What if that's not enough?! I don't want to start, run out, get another bottle, and have to start again!"

Oil Slick and Starscream both choked back either a gag or a laugh. Blitzwing flipped into his cooler mindset and appeared to be deep in thought, as if trying to decode the conversation.

"They can't be talkingk about... that, can they?" Blitzwing whispered to Starscream.

"What else could they be talking about?" Starscream sneered. "High-impact piston grease?"

Oil Slick snickered again. "They probably use high-impact piston grease."

With that, Blitzwing cycled back into his crazy face. "Hoohoohoohoohoo! If zhe labels fits, ja?"

The three bots chortled and high-fived each other in congratulation. Megatron felt a flush of panic (who knows what Lugnut would do if he heard them ridiculing him and his consort). "Shut up!"

Megatron's words went unheard, as Lugnut chose to begin talking again. "IF YOU LEARNED HOW TO ORGASM IN LESS THAT 10 MINUTES, WE WOULDN'T HAVE THIS PROBLEM, DARLING."

"When I say faster, I mean faster!"

Lugnut felt enough fervor to stand up in his chair. "MY THRUSTING SPEED HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR ORGASM WHILST I AM THE ONE BEING PENETRATED!"

If he could breathe, Megatron would have choked on his own glossa in surprise. Lugnut? Largest uncombined Decepticon in the known universe, and he was the one being penetrated by a lowly femme? It was Strika, granted, but still.

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?"

"YES, I WOULD, AND I DO."

A sharp knocking brought Megatron out of his astounded reverie. Starscream was pounding his fist against his knee, trying not to laugh (and sounding like he might pop a piston in the process). Blitzwing and Oil Slick, though, were beginning to look a little sick. Megatron waved his hand at Starscream, half panicking, grunting "Shut up, shut UP!" through his teeth.

The calm, logical Blitzwing rolled his eyes. "Typical, the one takingk it never wants to move."

"Shut UP!" Megatron could see it now, Lugnut on his back, arms around Strika, Strika's big, knotted cord buried deep into Lugnut's unnaturally wet v- EW.

Somewhere in the ship, Strika made a very loud harumph. "You are just making excuses."

"WELL, THERE IS NOTHING TO BE DONE ABOUT IT NOW."

"If you remember to put your things away, we wouldn't have this problem!"

"IT IS NOT A PROBLEM FOR ME IF THE LUBRICANT IS COLD. IT IS NOT BEING USED ON YOUR PORT ANYWAY."

Starscream muttered offhandedly, "I bet their bed smells like lubricant now. It's probably a constant odor, hanging in the air..."

"It doesn't matter if it's not being used on my port, I still don't want it to be cold for you!" Strika spoke over Starscream, the direction of her voice shifting as she talked.

"I AM TELLING YOU I AM FINE WITH IT, WOMAN." Lugnut growled softly and leaned forward. "IF THIS ARGUMENT PERSISTS, I SHALL NOT PERFORM CUNNILINGUS ON YOU TONIGHT."

The side of the room occupied by everyone that wasn't Lugnut froze.

Starscream whimpered, holding his head in his hands. "And now the mental picture is burned into my CPU forever..."

Megatron didn't want to think about the mental picture, so it of course manifested itself instantly: Lugnut's back obscuring most of Strika's body, leaving only her non-emotive face exposed for viewing. He comforted himself with the idea that it wasn't as disgustingly arousing as it could have been.

Strika's voice was coming from the port side of the ship now, though it took a trained audio to tell. "Fine, then! But you cannot blame me if I happen to thrust too hard and hit your cervical unit!"

"THEN YOU CANNOT BLAME ME IF YOU MUST FIND A WAY TO FINISH YOURSELF OFF ALONE WHILST I SLUMBER."

"That won't happen, because I'll wake you up!"

Oil Slick leaned over to Blitzwing. "He can wake up, but he won't get up."

Blitzwing, who looked to be halfway through a word, flipped onto his angry face and growled, "You slagger, I vas goingk to make that joke!"

"YOU MAY WAKE ME UP, DARLING, BUT YOU WILL NOT GET ME UP!"

"Holy slag, we totally called it!" Oil Slick gushed.

"Awesome!" spouted crazy-face Blitzwing. "High five!"

"Silence!" Megatron hissed.

There was silence for a few disorienting seconds.

The silence was broken by heavy footsteps approaching the bridge.

Oil Slick and Blitzwing snapped back to their post, hurriedly busying themselves with anything nearby. Lugnut stood from his post and braced himself, leading a panicked Starscream to bolt into his unoccupied chair. Megatron turned his throne away from the main entrance, gripping his armrests and staring straight ahead.

Strika forced the door open before it registered her arrival, staring into Lugnut's main optic. "I will force you up."

Lugnut advanced a single step; Strika matched him with two steps of her own, placing them chest to chest. "THAT IS RAPE, DARLING."

"Since when have you had a problem with that?" said Strika in a voice far too sultry for one of her build.

Lugnut immediately threw his arms around Strika's neck. "I LOVE YOU."

"I love you more." Strika returned the embrace with a squeeze of Lugnut's aft.

"I BELIEVE I SHALL USE THE VIBRATOR ON YOU TONIGHT."

"The battery-powered one, or the one that's plugged in underneath the table lamp?"

"THE PLUGGED-IN ONE."

"I'm so lucky." One more little squeeze, and Strika left without another word.

Lugnut turned to seat himself back at his post, only to find Starscream looking rather pale and horrified. Surveying the bridge, he found his shipmates in similar states: Blitzwing was randomly switching between his faces, caught in an uncomfortable-looking systems crash; Oil Slick was holding his temples, muttering to himself; and Megatron was sinking ever lower into his throne, legs squeezed tightly together.

All optics turned to him.

Lugnut shrugged. "WHAT?"