AN: This is a continuation of my other Blitzarachnia fic, 'Frag It!' so you probably won't understand what's going on unless you read that :)

Disclaimer: All Transformers R belong 2 Hasbro.

After a megacycle or so of troubled recharge, Blackarachnia entered the rec room, still hobbling slightly.

Slagging Hothead, she cursed mentally. Though I guess I should've known he'd like it rough.

She wasn't bothered about signing in for her duties late, however – Megatron had made an announcement over the intercom that the rota was henceforth abandoned for the solar cycle, though as the Decepticon leader had sounded as though he was nursing a hangover at the time it was doubtful that this was done with his troops' best interests at heart. Nevertheless, Blackarachnia was glad of the respite whatever the reason, particularly as she would need the time to recover from last night both physically and mentally.

She didn't like to admit it, but her behaviour last night had come as a shock. Although she had acknowledged the fact that she missed being in a relationship for a long time, she hadn't known just how desperate she'd been until Blitzwing had kissed her, and the truth was, quite honestly, frightening.

Just one more reason to hate her organic half, she supposed. Ever since she'd been mutated the only mechs to show her any interest were either overcharged or viewing her as some sort of kinky freakshow. Other than that most of them didn't even want to touch her if they could help it.

Blackarachnia's musings were cut short as Slipstream entered the Energon queue behind her. The techno-organic collected her ration and turned away without a word to the other femme, but to her surprise - and slight annoyance - the seeker followed her to a table and sat down opposite her.

"So," the lilac and teal femme grinned, sounding for all the world as though she and Blackarachnia were the best of friends. "Thundercracker tells me he saw you coming out of Blitzwing's quarters this morning."

Blackarachnia's spark seemed to freeze in her chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped in reply. "How do you know he was telling the truth?"

Slipstream's smirk took on a somewhat condescending air that was sadly reminiscent of her creator, reminding Blackarachnia why she was unable to view the seeker as anything other than annoying.

"Oh, I doubt he was lying," she replied. "That's Ramjet's department after all. So?"

"So what?" Blackarachnia demanded.

"So…spill," the female seeker grinned. "How in Primus' name did you two, of all bots, end up together?"

"We're not together!" the techno-organic blurted, mortified. "We were overcharged!"

"Ha!" Slipstream crowed triumphantly. "So something did happen last night then?"

Blackarachnia groaned, thunking her head on the tabletop.

"Ooooh, I can't wait to tell everyone!" Slipstream exclaimed with relish. "The base's two resident freaks are an item!"

"We're not an item!" Blackarachnia protested. "And don't you dare tell anyone about this!"

"Well, what can you do about it if I do?" the seeker asked. "I do, after all, have friends in high places."

"You mean you slept your way in to Megatron's favour," the techno-organic grumbled.

"Details," Slipstream replied with a grin. Suddenly, she glanced over Blackarachnia's shoulder, her smile widening. "And look who's just shown up – your fellow freakshow member!"

The arachnid twisted around to see Blitzwing standing in the doorway. Swearing under her breath, she hunched over in order to make herself as invisible as possible. Slipstream snickered softly.

"Blitzwing!" she called, waving enthusiastically in the mech's direction. "Over here!"

Even from across the room the triple changer winced at the volume of Slipstream's voice. Apparently he hadn't got off scot-free in the hangover department either, and this gave Blackarachnia a moment of vindictive satisfaction. The feeling didn't last, however, as Blitzwing glanced around, did a double take at Slipstream's uncharacteristic behaviour (the femme was still beckoning enthusiastically) and warily approached the table. He appeared not to have spotted Blackarachnia, which was unsurprising as the techno-organic had slumped down so far in her seat that her optics were level with the table.

Unfortunately, he didn't remain ignorant for long. The moment that he spotted the tell-tale pincers protruding over the top of Blackarachnia's chair he froze in his tracks, optics wide. The spider-bot was determinedly not meeting Blitzwing's gaze and stared resolutely at the table, but Slipstream refused to allow this state of ignorance to continue.

"So," she started, voice dangerously honeyed. Blackarachnia decided at this that so was now her least favourite word.

"How are you two lovebots feeling this morning?" the seeker continued, servos clasped in front of her. "I heard all about your little escapade last night thanks to Thundercracker. He saw Spidey here leaving your quarters, Blitzwing."

The triple changer's puzzled expression descended into one of frantic mortification, and Blackarachnia at last glanced up to look at him, a desperate warning in her optics. However, Slipstream's next words sealed their fate and no amount of silent pleading could drag Blitzwing back from the edge.

"It's like some freaky love story if you think about it – the disgusting organic and the crazed headcase."

At the insult, Hothead rapidly took dominance, a furious glint dancing on his visor.

"Shut UP!" he shouted. "Zere is nothing between me und Blackarachnia! Last night vas a mistake und zat's ze end of it!"

As he finished his tirade he was greeted by complete and utter silence. The entire rec room was stunned, with Decepticons staring at the unfortunate couple from all corners, their optics wide in shock.

Realising too late what he had just done, Blitzwing stuttered to a halt, mouth working furiously as he attempted to formulate some excuse or cover story. None presented itself and he switched back to Icy who, had his faceplates not been such a frosty blue, would have been bright red with embarrassment.

Blackarachnia was glaring furiously at the unfortunate mech, but her helm snapped round as someone from the other side of the room.

"Woah! The spider and the psycho were getting it on last night?"

The owner of the voice detached himself from the crowd, a broad grin on his faceplates.

"Blitz," Astrotrain exclaimed as he addressed his fellow triple changer. "Are you tellin' me you actually got some?"

At the other mech's question Random swung into view.

"Yeah," he replied with his permanent jagged grin. "Ze spider gave me a pretty good time for an organic!" He then launched into a rendition of his favourite 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' song, but was soon shouted down by several mechs who were eager for details.

"So what'd you and the spider-glitch get up to, then?" Octane demanded. "Webbing bondage or something kinky like that?"

"Nah," Blitzwing answered. "Ve vere overcharged. But I still got in four rounds before I dropped! Vould've been five, but Spidey vouldn't cooperate."

Amid renewed cheers from the mechs, Blackarachnia was frozen in embarrassment and fury. How dare Blitzwing flaunt their secret around like it was nothing? He'd agreed to stay silent about it and now he was treating the whole thing like a joke; a trivial matter!

But what hurt the most was the disparaging way he was talking about her. Even as Blackarachnia watched, Random executed some kind of human dance move in her direction – she was pretty sure it was called something along the lines of a hip or pelvic thrust – with an accompanying cackle and a shout at the techno-organic.

"You up for another round tonight, Spidey?" he crowed.

As the room filled once again with jeers and catcalls, with a few wolf-whistles thrown in Blackarachnia's direction for good measure, the femme decided that she'd had enough. With an enraged snarl she hauled herself out of her chair, shooting Slipstream a look of pure venom.

"Oi! Spider!" someone shouted. "What's Blitzwing got that means you'll frag him when you reject everyone else?"

"No real standards, for one thing," somebody else replied, and the room erupted in laughter.

"Seriously, though," the original speaker continued, stepping forward and revealing himself as Motormaster. "The amount of mechs she turned down last night – while she was drunk – it was making me think she was a frigid glitch!"

More laughter greeted this statement, and Blackarachnia found herself wishing that someone would just shoot her where she stood. She didn't see how the situation could get any worse.

But then she heard a new sound, and it pierced her so painfully that for a moment she wondered if someone had actually fired at her. Sadly, it wasn't the case – she would've preferred death to such abject humiliation. At least it would be over quicker. Instead she realised that Blitzwing had switched back to Icy mode. And he was joining in the laughter at her expense.

That was too much for the femme. Random Blitzwing laughing at her, she could handle – aside from singing it was all he ever seemed to do. But the fact that Icy had joined the group of mechs who were taunting her about something that had happened to both of them… the fact that Blitzwing was standing there being treated as normal while she herself was subjected to jeers and insults – some of them coming from the very triple changer who had sworn secrecy about the event…

It was the last straw for the techno-organic. Choking back a sob, determined that nobot should see she had been broken, she pushed blindly through the crowds thronging the rec room and stumbled into the corridor in a twisted parody of the night before. Once outside she took off at a run, stopping her flight only when she reached the door to her own private lab.

As the door slid shut behind her, she finally allowed the tears to fall.