Welcome to another of my hybrid experiences, born as a result of watching last TFP episode and feeling in a writing mood.

To be honest, this one-shot was going to be completely different. Since I'm not writing that one anymore, I'll tell you what it was all about: long story short, Knock Out was going to kill Breakdown, to finally give him some peace after having failed in bringing him back to sentient life.

But since the episode went in a totally different direction – starting with the discouraging fact that it was Silas and not Breakdown, I discarded the idea. I was actually going to let things go when my muse poked me and made me write this fic instead. Curious thing is that I enjoyed writing it. A lot.

I want to give tons of thanks to my sista iratepirate for revising my grammar as we chatted last night. I was astonished to see that she found very few mistakes this time :oD

Ok, now to the story!

You're no Breakdown

or

One good reason why fanfiction is not your friend

Written by Taipan Kiryu

"Monitor duty," Starscream stated, remembering how monotonous and dull clones looked when stationed in front of their stations. "Is there anything more denigrating than monitor duty?"

"Yes. Try monitor duty with you!" Knock Out spat at him, moving restlessly on his chair. "I don't know what's worse, your company or this insult to ergonomics they call a chair."

"Oh, please excuse the humble seat, Knock Out, for not fitting the high demands of your royal, lazy aft."

The medic frowned. "What would you know about that, Screamer? You don't even have an aft… Scrawny."

"Do I really have to remind you that I hate being called 'Screamer?" Starscream said, extending one very sharp talon to his duty-monitor partner. "And what was that last word you said?"

Knock Out gave a disdainful look to the finger so close to his face, not even slightly impressed despite having had painful experiences with that same finger. "I said that you should pay more attention to your station," he said when a small alarm started to blink on Starscream's monitor. "There's an electrical failure in your sector."

"I know the procedure," Starscream growled, returning his attention to the screen and punching in a code. "Considering my luck, this will be the most exciting thing that will happen to me today."

"Don't forget your cosmetic session with me later, sweetie-pie, unless you want to remain looking like Insecticon waste."

Starscream didn't answer, still very upset about his most recent beating at the hands of his leader. At least Megatron had been decent enough to allow him to conserve all his servos this time.

Knock Out sighed, settling in as he could in the hard chair and putting his feet on the computer console. "At least Lord Megatron didn't take away all your projects from you… Oh my bad, I just remembered that you don't have any."

Starscream turned to look at him with plasma bolts instead of optics. "Are you so stupid and selfish to consider yourself the major victim of all this? You may have to respond to Shockwave from now on, but you kept your position within the ranks intact, whilst I…"

"Poor 'ole Screamer," Knock Out said, drawling his words. "Beaten up by our liege, turned into a laughing stock again… Wait, isn't that the story of your life? You should be used to it by now."

"I warn you, Knock Out—" Starscream stopped his threat when a mild short circuit in his middle section made him cringe.

"You definitely will have to pay a visit to my laboratory later," Knock Out said, laughing. "Why don't you call my secretary and make an appointment? Maybe I'll have time to see you after I finish patching your dignity – if such a thing is possible."

Starscream gritted his dental plates but seemed to decide better against continuing threatening a fully functional comrade in arms.

Another electrical failure and an energy leak in sector 43-B kept them occupied for the next breem.

"How did you come up with that nickname?" Starscream's voice was soft but highly rancorous when it broke the silence.

Knock Out opened his optics, previously a slot in his face as he was falling in recharge mode. "Mm… Which nickname? Screamer?"

"You don't have to repeat it," Starscream hissed.

"As you wish. I got if from the humans."

"The humans?" Starscream asked, confused. "You mean from those… horror films you watch?"

Knock Out lowered his legs from the console and typed something on the keyboard. "No. I found it in the native interconnected computer networks. Did you know that humans write fictional stories about us?"

If somebody would have kept count of the number of times Starscream had stretched his optics to their limits in the last solar cycle, they would have a big number. "What? Stories?"

"They call it fanfiction and…" Knock Out said, entering some parameters on the humans' internet search engine, "and let me tell you that in most of those stories you don't end up precisely on the dignity team. Actually, in most of them you and Lord Megatron—"

"STORIES?" Starscream repeated, getting up from his chair. "And how in the Inferno are humans aware of our names in the first place?"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I just— oh…"

"What?"

When Knock Out kept scrolling, mouth open, at the screen, Starscream approached him. "What is it?"

The doctor frowned and pointed toward the several titles displayed on the monitor. "Well, what do you make of this? It's not two solar cycles yet after the Terrorcons incident and this fanfiction page is already filled with stories about us."

"And how in the Primary Program did the humans know about the Terrorcons?"

"Who cares about that?" Knock Out spat. "Starscream, the stories are about us! You and me."

Starscream pushed Knock Out away along with the chair and leaned on the console, his red optics ever so rounded.

"I have to insist. How are the humans aware of the things that happen inside the Nemesis, not to mention our slagging denominations—?" he interrupted himself when he read further. "What… what is this thing they say we're doing?"

Knock Out looked from the screen to Starscream's crotch. "Mm, I don't know. Do you actually have something down there that I don't know about? Remember that it's not a good idea to lie to your physician."

"I don't have anything in which you could place your…" Starscream narrowed his optics to continue reading. "Wait? What is this 'spike' thing?"

"Apparently, the thing I use to insert in your… brrr. Do humans have the slightest idea of our anatomy? Lubrication valves are certainly not used for these… things," Knock Out spat, disgusted.

"Are these stories insinuating that you and I… interface?"

"If you can call interface the disturbing processes they describe as such… yes, I suppose they do. It seems that the humans took to the extreme your little confession when we were facing imminent termination."

"My confession? Pardon me, Knock Out, but I seem to recall that it was you who said that you have always admired my lustrous finish."

"Not so lustrous anymore, from what I can tell," Knock Out said, casting a disdainful glance at Starscream's now dull finish. "But don't boast so soon, Screamer. I was just responding kindly to your no less hypocritical confession."

"All right, but that doesn't justify that the humans pair us, much less – eew – write us interfacing!"

"I have to say it. Never in my life had I felt so offended."

"You? And what about me? At least you have the spike… In more than ninety percent of these stories I'm the one with the valve."

Knock Out laughed. "Blame it on your thrusters."

"What do you mean?"

"Your thrusters, hello?" Knock Out lifted his arms. "Am I the only one who has noticed that your pedes look like a female's high heels?"

Starscream raised his optic brows in confusion. "High heels?"

Knock Out shook his head. "You know, Starscream, for the Second in Command you claim to be, you're not exactly very bright. Have you ever thought about studying the cultural basics of the planet you intend to conquer? Take me for example. Seeing all those horror films was not exactly for amusement purposes – or for the interesting, creative ways in which humans use chainsaws…"

"I know what needs to be known about this organic scrapheap, Knock Out! And this…" Starscream poked the screen with one of his talons. "This is one piece of human folklore that I wish I'd never heard about."

"It's a little too late for that. Concerning these humans, you and me are nothing but a couple of petro-rabbits that spend all their off-screen time interfacing."

"With spikes…"

"And valves."

Starscream growled curses to the human race and started the long return to his seat, but he fell to one knee at the first step he made.

"Something wrong, Her Kommandant? Was Big M mean to you?" Knock Out said, stopping Starscream from falling completely to the floor.

Starscream shook his arm, getting rid of Knock Out's grip. "Don't touch me. I don't want… whoever is spying on us to get the wrong idea."

"As you wish, but as the only physician in this ship, I feel it's my duty to inform you that it will be not easy to repair your injuries without some sort of physical contact."

"What…ever…" Starscream hissed as he dragged his aching frame toward the empty chair.

Knock Out rolled his optics. "Oh, for Unicron's sake… go and recharge some breems! I'll take care of the rest of your shift."

Starscream shot him a dirty look. "I don't want your pity."

"Pity? For my audio receptors, you mean?" Knock Out said, getting comfortable on his seat again. "Take it as you want, Starscream. I just don't want to keep listening to your whining the rest of the cycle. I, unlike others, actually have a functional sanity chip and I intend to keep it that way."

Starscream, still on his knees, considered the idea for a moment. "If Lord Megatron shows up…"

"I'll tell him I sent you to take a nap before repairing the beautiful handwork he did on your fuselage. Doctor's orders."

Starscream nodded, getting laboriously to his feet. "Fine, then."

He had almost reached the door when he stopped. "It definitely has not been an honor serving monitor duty with you, Knock Out."

The medic's chair creaked a little when it moved. "I could respond to that, but getting beat up makes your armor look sodull… Come back to me after having a date with a buffer."

Starscream's automatic reaction – a grimace – didn't happen. His hand stopped close to the control pad beside the door. "I won't return to certain, disgustingly corny words I may have pronounced in a moment of desperation, but I guess we make a good team… sometimes."

Knock Out's sigh could be heard through the room. "And I guess your company is not quite unbearable, when your finish is lustrous enough, of course."

Starscream smirked, only to frown in indignation astrokliks later. "But that doesn't mean we interface!"

"Eww, of course not!"

Starscream opened the door now that everything had been said and done. He had crossed the threshold already when he heard Knock Out's voice again.

"Besides, Starscream…"

He turned around. The medic was looking at him from his chair.

"You are no Breakdown."

The door hissed and closed between them.

The end

Ta-da! I'm aware that you guys may have some questions about this, but for crack's sake, I'm not going to extend myself in explanations. I'll just say that I liked the interaction between Starscream and Knock Out in 'Thirst' and I wanted to give it a little follow-up. As for the reference to fanficton, I'm aware is a pretty out of place, what-the-frag kind of element, but I thought that many fans would take that awkward scene between Screamer and Knock Out as the perfect excuse to unleash their creativity in interfacing matters.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not against those stories at all, but I figured that neither Starscream nor Knock Out would exactly love to see how we humans like to picture them in hot nights like this.

And now the final questions: Do those two like each other – in a weird, Decepticon kind of way? Did Knock Out interfaced with Breakdown? Find the answers between the lines in every TFP episode.

OK, I'm logging out. I hope you enjoyed this little weird fic. Let me know if you did :o)