Shadow Chaser

By Uniasus

Chapter 2

Scrounge isn't the most noticed of mechs, not many are aware of what he could do, or even what his name is. He blends into the walls, his amour is a similar color to that of the Ark, and while the invisibleness isn't something he minds, there are times it grates on him. He even chose a bizarre alt form, a single circular mode that other civilizations call a wheel. But still, he isn't seen. Isn't worthy of being singled out.

So he plans to change that, show that he is worthy of being an Autobot, and not a simple refugee picked up who decided to take the first option that opened up to him. So he uses his best skill, his ability to be overlooked, and pairs it with the equipment he has from his time as a newscaster.

His fingers are detachable and using wires he is able to guide his fingertips around corners, into vents, cover multiple angles, all unnoticed to the mechs around him. Inside his fingers are audio and visual receptors, tools he uses to collect files of his fellow Autobots. Who better than an unnoticed mech to identify a spy among the ranks?

Unfortunately he hasn't found anything yet.

It's not like Scrounge wants to turn in someone he knew, learn that he is rubbing shoulders with a Decepticon. But if he could do it, prove himself worthy of his spot on the Ark, it would be worth it.

He takes to hanging in corners of places he thought spies might meet, keeping down and hiding in shadows, wired fingers spread out and receptors turned on. Every night, he sits in the rec room and process esthe data he collected, deleting most of it because he never finds anything.

It doesn't mean he doesn't have a suspect.

Scrounge has a reason to be in the rec room after most mechs have gone to bed every night. Bluestreak…doesn't.

Blue is there every single night. He isn't always alone, some other mech or femme usually joins him, but the conversations they have were innocent, if boring. Blue just talks and talks, and if it is some type of complex code it is impossible for Scrounge to figure out. And it is very unlikely everyone on the ship is a spy Blue is in contact with. The gunner never seems surprised to see Bots join him at a table, but Scrounge gathers he never knows who is going to show up either.

All those mechs coming to see him is a good cover, giving Bluestreak a legitimate excuse to be in the rec room that late at night. The question is, what is the mech doing by himself that late?

Scrounge follows Bluestreak for a full ten orns, trying to figure out what exactly Blue is doing and to gather evidence for Prowl. Or Jazz. He isn't too sure who's jurisdiction Decepticon spies are. Prime's certainly, so maybe he'd go straight to the top. Yeah, that's a good idea. But ten orns of files in his processor equals ten orns of files he deletes. There isn't one thing to show Bluestreak is secretly a spy.

So if being invisible doesn't work, being up front is going to have to.

He waits until Bluestreak is in the rec room long enough to get comfortable before he pounces. He steps out of the shadows and sets himself down next to the gunner.

Bluestreak jumps. "Who are you?"

"Scrounge."

"Are you new? Just cuz I haven't seen you around and I thought I knew every one on the ship. When did you board, have you learned your way around yet? The Ark can be hard to navigate sometimes."

"I know your secret." Scrounge blurts out, pressing forward and pushing his face towards the grey mech's. Intimidation. It works for Sunstreaker, why shouldn't it work for him too?

Bluestreak does not lean backwards like Scrounge expects, he just adjusts the aperture of his optics in confusion. "Secret?"

"Yes, why you come here every night."

"Really?"

The spy isn't supposed to look so…happy about being found out. He should be denying that fact he is doing anything. So Bluestreak is a smart spy. Scrounge pushs forward even more, to the point where their chest protrusions clank together.

"You're a spy."

Ah, there is that mix of horror and its-not-me-I'm-innocent face Scrounge had been looking for.

"That's crazy! I'm not a spy! I don't even know how to be one! I can't disappear like Mirage. Or move all sneaky like, like Jazz does. I stick out so much! If anything, you're a spy! Sneaking up on me like you did! Actually that was pretty interesting. Think you can teach me? Unless of course it's a spy thing you can't share with me, that's understandable. There are some things you just can't learn. Just like there's no way I can ever be as smart as Prowl. But that's okay, I don't have to be really smart to do my job here with the Autobots. What is it you do exactly? I don't even recognize you. You must be really, really new. How about we go on a tour?"

Bluestreak makes to stand up, but Scrounge's hand on his pinning it to the tabletop stops the grey mech half way.

"Fine, you're not a spy. So then why are you here every single night?"

Further indication that Blue is either a super amazing spy with acting skills, or he is so far off the mark he'd never show that he is worthy of being an Autobot. Bluestreak is…happy at the question. As if he has been waiting for it to be asked for vorns and finally gets his wish. The gunner seems to glow with pleasure for a moment, before it slowly slips away to form something darker. And when he speaks, he doesn't ramble in the way Scrounge had come to associate with Bluestreak. But the words have more force, as if they have just burst free of rusted constraints and are glorifying in their freedom.

"Because the rec room is usually so lively, so loud, that even the memories of it chase away the silence."

"Is that why you talk so much too? Cuz you like noise?"

Blue nods. "But music doesn't help, I've tried. Only talking. And since I don't have a roommate, I come here to remember talking."

"And then usually someone comes along you can talk to."

Blue nods for a second time. "It helps. A lot. It chases the darkness."

"Darkness?"

The gunner gives him look that is a mixture of surprise and then suppressed sadness. "Of the past. What happened to those I care about. Most of us here have it. We pick it up before we sign up to be an Autobot, or from what we see during the war."

"Like Praxus falling." Scrounge takes a guess, pulling up the spy file he has compiled on Bluestreak.

Blue shutters his eyes and nods. "Don't you have it too?"

The orange mech takes a rifle through his own memory files, but can't find anything that could be categorized as darkness. He doesn't hate the war, it is the best thing that could have happened to his career! The ones he lost, he wasn't close with. Being invisible isn't something he developed once he was on the Ark, he had it in some form or another before. The only thing that could come close might be a sense of lost, of what to do once the broadcast network collapsed. But the Autobots had come in and filled that hole in a matter of orns.

"No."

"Oh."

The next five breems are the longest Scrounge has ever heard Bluestreak keep quite.

"I thought you wanted to talk."

"Oh, I do!"

"Then talk." Scrounge waggles his left hand. "I'll record whatever we, or you, talk about tonight, and then I'll send you the file. You can listen to it whenever, give that vocalizer of yours a rest."

The hug that envelops him is completely unexpected. Awkwardly, he bends his elbow and pats what he could of Bluestreak's arm.

"Thank you thank you so much! I've never been able to get a good recording, and I don't have the capacity to record more than half a breem, so if you would do that, that would be amazing."

Blue continues talking, Scrounge says things once in awhile, and they pass the night away. They spend the night in Blue's room; Scrounge has no desire to go back to his, Cosmos snores. And come morning Scrounge uploads the file of the joors of conversation to the terminal in Bluestreak's room.

"Thanks for doing that for me Scrounge," Blue says, systems only half online as he wakes up for his shift. "You're a good friend."

And somehow, Scrounge loses all desire to prove himself worthy of being an Autobot. Being a friend sounds a lot better.

A/N: So so sorry! I actually though I had posted this already. Like at the beginning of the month. It's been done since, like, so long ago you guys should all gang-up on me and force me to chug milk til I choke.

But yes, happy ending for Blue! Aww. And yes, Scrounge is a real character. He just...doesn't live very long I don't think (haven't gotten that fare in the comics yet). As for him being a newscaster? That's all me. I've always wanted to be on TV. And not just me on a float for the local parade. But I don't know if I could do a newscaster. They have crazy hours that I do not want to deal with.

I have a new computer, yea! I've named him Prowl (yes, subtle, I know ^_~). My mom keeps on telling me to change it, cuz Prowl isn't a real name. But really, what G1 human peeps are actually worth naming something after? Spike's kinda a wuss, Sparkplug's a silly name, Chip too, and Carly? Don't really like her yet. I'm waiting for her to get killed one day. And Josie kinda goes crazy and attacks the Autobots, so that's out of the question. Plus, I like Prowl! I even got him a black and white keyboard cover ^_^ Now I just need a Prowl sticker...

Reviews are awesome and will be reward with a chocolate chip pancake! Once I finally get off my butt and make them.