Ep1.5 - 'Lost Luggage' - Closed

[Deleted]

There's the Commander we all know and love! He's going to kill you! You're going to die! You really messed up this time! He's-

Roulette nearly screamed when his hand's touched her leg. The only reason she didn't shriek was because her vox was so stressed it clicked. She expected him to dig his claws in and just rip her off. She expected pain. It was the jolting realization that she was starting to shake that stopped her panicking thoughts from galloping her actions straight into no man's land. Good gravy, what was she doing?? Was he really that scary?

Fuckin A, he is!

Ok, well, she wasn't going to lie to herself. This was a terrifying situation and she could almost feel his tolerance evaporating. Couldn't say she blamed him but really, what had he expected? Did he really not realize she was scared of him?! Why in the slag had she agreed to this?!

Ugh, I have got to learn to say no. I think the sum of my life's choices and mistakes have stemmed from me saying "sure" to everything. Serves me right.

The more she talked to herself and analyzed the situation, the calmer she grew until the shaking ceased. Or maybe it was his hands on her that practically forbid shaking. It was hard to just indulge in a bit of mania when her Commander just told her to stop. And, if she wanted to admit to herself and wallow in sheepish guilt, panicking hadn't exactly helped in the first place.

Now how did she fix this? Besides not losing her hand. That was probably step one of the road to recovery. In fact, that was going to be the whole goal: not to lose the hand. But to get there, she needed to sort of stay on his waning good side. And to that end she...had no clue.

Ah pit with it, I'll just say what I want. I can't make matters worse. We're already at worse.

"So..." Ohgod, she wanted to cringe at the awkward tone but couldn't move. He'd told her not to and his hands were too close to argue with in that regard. "...bet you thought this would be a normal sparring match...which means you haven't talked to Shockwave about me..."

She wasn't going to say she had a record for bad luck, but it was certainly...interesting being around her some days. Heck, half the time things seemed to work in her favor. Problem was, she had to experience some weird slag to get there.

"AlsoImightbesortofterrifiedofyou." Well, she certainly hadn't wanted to say that but it all sort of came out in one big rush of nervous venting. At that point, she considered gnawing off her own hand and fleeing to safety.

[Deleted]

Her naked terror came as a shock to him. Her confession, absent of any humour or the playful kind of bravado the sharpshooter was infused with, surprised him too.

What did she honestly think he'd do to her?

He held her leg to keep her still, to stop her either tumbling or wrenching herself free from his shoulder and damaging them both. It did nothing for the white nova of panic emanating from her core.

His prying clawtips didn't still, though. Megatron forced two stiff catches tucked up well into the crevice of his helmet aside and traced along for the next. Roulette's fingers, unfortunately, were trapped around it. He used his thumb to gingerly feel out how badly her limb was gumming up the gears.

"I am not gentle, kind or soft sparked. I run an army," he uttered as he worked, his optics distant as he visualised the infrequently-seen mechanics. There was a firmness in his voice, not truly protest or insistence, but a statement of fact that he believed to be true. "But I do not maim or kill those I share allegiance with wantonly. I am no casual tormentor or bully."

But was that true?

He spoke of himself in the abstract, from his personality matrix as untouched by millennia of grueling, unrestrained conflict. A war that had decimated their species. Robust as his spark was, had his already-steely ideals been worn and corrupted and left him something monstrous?

Was having their commander absent of his memories and the influence that war had on a spark a temporary reprieve for this crew?

The thought troubled him.

"Or am I wrong about myself?" Megatron asked, softer now, his brows drawn down.

That catch was almost free, trapping only two of Roulette's slender fingers. He'd managed to bend the metal outwards so that it didn't need to roll over her digits to unlock.

[Deleted]

I feel...bad.

How was it she felt like she'd kicked a mech who was already down? She wasn't going out of her way to make him question his whole freakin existence and yet, they were inching closer to the Abyss. She knew not to look into that dark depth because something always looked back. It always ended up being a large part of yourself that stared right back at you like a stranger, with hard optics and all sharp edges.

Grief, I think I would have felt better if I had just shot him in the optic like I was debating. At least that only hurts for a little while. This slag right here, this is starting to get serious. How did we even get here?!

Roulette really wished she could move. She wasn't the kind of femme to stay still for too long and having to freeze in place while he got them untangled was like torture on some sub level. She settled for slowly flexing the ankle joint against his chest to try and bleed out some of the levels of stress that had her wound nearly painfully tight. After this was over, she really was going to need a good sparring just to unwind.

"Or am I wrong about myself?"

Gaze drawn downward to his hands, she watched the threatening digits carefully free her hand and resisted the urge to pat them. She shouldn't be feeling sorry for him. He was a flippin Decepticon Warlord and by definition, everything he said was true. A few meager words weren't going to ruin him. But...and there was always that but that just rankled her. But he wasn't really the Warlord right now. Not yet. And while she could get away with many things she couldn't have before, willfully planting seeds of doubt in his mind while he was recovering was just low.

That was Starscream's job.

"I think," she began, tone hesitant and thoughtful, "-that, in this case, the problem lies in me. If it makes you feel better, I don't really fear anything except you. Not even Shockwave. Especially not Shockwave. ...You are the ideal. You're the one everyone looks to and not just for orders. You are more than just a mech at this point. You are Megatron, the freakin Warlord leading a glorious Decepticon cause. Or something like that. I don't wax poetics very well." She could feel herself nervously rambling and wanted to kick her own ass. Alas, she was stuck in place and if she ended up literally kicking an ass, it would have been his. Something she wasn't planning on doing any time soon.

"...I'm not..." Ah, frag this is hard. And stupidly dangerous. She vented lowly and laughed, the sound short and anything but mirthful. "I'm not very good at this. And I don't even understand what it means to be a Decepticon. Slag, I just joined because I was running out of options and my sister-" There was that abyss again, looming darker than ever. She mentally flinched away from the rabbit hole and chased another tangent into brighter paths.

"My sister should be the one here, not me." This time her tone was firmer and solid with fondness. "She believed and was practically your one-femme fan club."

[Deleted]

This was, most definitely, not at all like any sparring match Megatron had engaged in before. Not that he could remember, anyway, but from a purely speculative viewpoint, this must have been an exception from the norm. There was some peculiar kind of exposure going on, uncertain and uneasy, that made the notion of continuing the session after they'd untangled themselves seem wholly inappropriate. Megatron, at least, felt more like withdrawing to the quiet of his quarts after this that he did throwing the sharpshooter about the room.

"I think," he began, choosing his words carefully, "that you sell your loyalty short. If you are here, then you are aligned to the same ideals, and beyond that there is little to understand. You say your sister believed, but you speak as though you do too. Don't diminish your place, regardless of your current... position."

The last he offered with a very obvious note of humour, not wishing to leave any illusion of criticism or scolding. Their current state was an accident, and as much his 'fault' as hers.

And he was grateful for her candor.

The crew did not fear him, but rather feared disappointing him. Though he seemed to have made a habit of taking his disappointment and outrage out on Starscream's mesh, such physical repercussions and provocations were limited to the Seeker.

A click as the latch was pulled up and back, straining the mechanism to warping. Megatron's hand left Roulette's thigh to grasp both sides of the helmet, though he didn't lift it.

"You should have enough space to pull your hand free, now."

He tipped his chin down fractionally, holding the helmet in place above his neck. The movement exposed an inch of his helm, revealing the straight edge of a panel folded flat and tight.

"If you're still stuck," Megatron went on gravely, "Then you may be caught under my sensor panels, and I shall need to remove the helmet entirely."

[Deleted]

She nearly sagged in relief. Not because her hand was nearly free. (Though, that would certainly be nice.) No, the growing, brooding tension that had been pressing down on them was dissipating under the humor. Whatever she'd said, she'd at least aimed in the right direction with noticeable results. The absurdity of the situation was starting to stand out.

"If we're going by position, sir, then I'm on top of my game." Oh, that was horrible! Boo! "...sorry, that was just...bad. This is an off day for me. Getting caught on my flippin Commander and making an aft of myself," she muttered quietly for her own benefit.

After mentally berating her run away mouth, she carefully leaned forward, mindful of not moving her arm too much, and gently tried to pull her hand loose. The fit was tight and her hands were very slender, without decorative ridges. One finger came free as well as a good portion of her palm. As she bent the digit she had a troubling realization that the response was sluggish and nearly numb. The other finger didn't respond to the prompt at all...or come free no matter how careful she was about tugging.

"I'm gonna...do some feeling around here. Because, I think I did something stupid." Compromising her balance as she hunched over, she tightened her leg thrown over his chest and slid her calve along his torso until she felt stable enough not to fall. Physically she was focused on the task of freeing her hand. Mentally, she was reverting back into the sparkling mental flailing.

Oooooh my primus, why me? Might as well just drape myself over him and-you stupid, stupid hand. This is what you get for freaking out earlier! If you hadn't panicked, you wouldn't have nearly pinched your damn hand off! Well, no, not the entire hand. Just the last finger...

Carefully prodding around her hand proved what she had feared. In her panic, she'd buckled the delicate metal under the blunt edge of his helm and nearly taken the finger off. Hell, with enough pull, she could be free. With the low cost of losing a pinky finger and all of her dignity. The only reason she wasn't in copious amounts of pain at the moment was likely the metal pressing against the sensor node and blocking it's route back up to the neural net. When that came free, however, she was not looking forward to that.

She nearly bowed her head low enough to rest against his helm but caught herself before she got too familiar. When would this unending torment end?? "I...it's just one little finger," she murmured. "I can just get another from the Doc."

There was no way, no way, she was asking more from him.

[Deleted]

After the debacle of Fairwinds' temp-modded pede stuck in the vent cover of his quarters, Megatron was not about to permit wanton dismemberment for the sake of freedom when it could be avoided.

"That will not be necessary," he replied with equal seriousness, as if she weren't draped in the most literal sense across his shoulder and chassis. Roulette's weight was solid and warm with life against his armour. He had no desire to feel her EM spike with pain this close to him.

On the rafter, Fairwinds had gone silent and still. Watching with stillness that appeared alien on her despite her role as a surveillance cassette. Likely taking pictures.

Decided, though notably uneasy, Megatron kept his head still and bowed, and slowly lifted the helmet away.

The five panels that framed his helm were old, dated back to his original forging, and were still marked with his original red and yellow hazard stripes. Though the metal was lashed with old scars and bubbled scorch marks that had never been treated by a qualified medic, the delicate circuitry of a specialised sensor suite was clearly visible as a web across the surface. The thick plates of the miner's crest twitched, unaccustomed to movement, then flared minutely.

Hopefully her finger had been trapped under the edge of the middle panel, as he suspected, and lifting it had released her.

Megatron held the helmet in both hands, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the floor. After a moment of silence, he looked to Roulette out of the very corner of his optic. "Are you alright?"

[Deleted]

Any irate thought Soundwave had entertained about strangling Fairwinds, or at least shaking the recalcitrant, mouthy little cassette, had been dying a swift death since the moment he'd set foot into the training hall.

It was not a feat he would have tried if Lord Megatron had been in full command of his capabilities; as matters stood Soundwave was counting on his own, untouched expertise in stealth and the likelihood that Megatron and Roulette would be too deeply engaged in their sparring match to notice his approach.

He wasn't sure what he'd been planning to do. A stern lecture was, obviously, out of the question and it would have made his case with none of the involved parties. Fairwinds got enough of those from Megatron, Roulette from Shockwave, and Megatron was too physical a creature. Worse yet was the fact that Soundwave, within his irritation at having his supervision over the convalescing warlord curtailed, could understand where he was coming from: Megatron's roots were those of a physical creature; he was not likely to find solace easily anywhere else. The 'Nemesis', however, and his ranks of potentially untrustworthy mecha... not the best environment for a friendly spar.

Of the many, many potential scenes the master spy had been expecting, though, nothing even remotely came close to Megatron, Deception Warlord (convalescing), scourge of the Autobots, Champion of Kaon's Pits... having a femme wrapped around his head, everyone's hands partially out of sight and engaged in entirely non-combat behavior. Fairwinds was probably recording this in every bit of memory the cassette had.

Ah, there were times he missed the sound of his own laughter. Then again, not to that, as it would have betrayed his presence and interrupt the show. He'd rather let them notice the extra shadow in the room in their own time.

He leaned back against the door and watched, everything in his posture and nothing in his field yielding to amusement.

[Deleted]

Roulette's field had tightened like a fist at the removal of a helmet. She didn't...know what to feel and the curiously flat field conveyed the confusion easily enough. She stared at the helm, incredibly foreign in design, to what she was used to. (Not that she was overly familiar with his body at...present position not included.) She'd always just assumed he was-well-

She caught herself reaching for one of the scars and halted her hands before a finger could brush the old wound. The pit was wrong with her?! There were certain breaches of etiquette she'd allow herself, but this wasn't one of them. Not only was it rude, it was too...close. Touching someone's old scars was not a privilege for her. She eased her hand back onto his shoulder and realized her other hand was free.

It announced its freedom with a flare of pinched pain that traveled up her arm and into her neural network like an annoying flash fire. All show and not a lot of damage. The metal was buckled just at the knuckle and now that is wasn't being pressed, the sensor was free to do it's job and complain. She made a fist and shook her hand, flexing her fingers to make sure they actually worked. So far so good.

Now that she was free, she wasn't sure what to do besides die from the awkward, nearly vulnerable situation. She wanted to crawl into a dark hole in the wall and seal herself up inside until she came out with more sense and less whatever this was. Bad luck? Bad timing? Gently biting the corner of her mouth, she lowered her hand for him to see.

"Nothing damaged but my knuckle..and my pride. And any redeeming hope that you don't see me like a glitch-wit in the foreseeable future, sir." She almost said something about the helm but the words tangled in her vox. What could she say? Should she way anything? There were easily twenty questions she could ask him but she didn't think any of them were worthy of answers.

[Deleted]

Megatron hooked two fingers into the femme's palm, drawing Roulette's hand fully into his eyeline. He looked over the cracked plating and compressed joint, satisfied to note that the damage was as minor as she'd implied. The helmet was held to his thigh, momentarily forgotten.

"I don't see you as a glitch-wit," he said, his mouth contorting around the strange term. Megatron had never been one for such expressions, and it was with reluctance that he uttered one now.

Fully exposed for the first time in centuries, the sensor panels framing his helm were sensitive and twitched involuntarily. Their feeds had been severed from his processor long ago, as he'd been upgraded further and further and every part of his spec bent to lethal efficiency, however the dermal sensors remained operational. Now, he could 'see' the living eddies and currents of Roulette's field, so close and bright that it was almost overwhelming.

He released her hand by way of withdrawing his claws, and finally met her bright optics. Roulette was still straddling the juncture of his neck and shoulder, her legs tight to his frame for balance and her face close. The crest inched up from his helm, far enough for the joins beneath to become visible, before he seemed to remember himself.

Immediately the crest panels folded back down, tight to his helm, and then Megatron replaced the helmet and thus iconic visage. Few were left who knew that the helmet was not simply a part of his helm, and fewer still had seen the panels beneath.

The Commander shifted, acutely aware that Roulette was no longer trapped on his shoulder and the longer she stayed there, the stranger this would become.

Not that either lifting her off himself (he was extremely reluctant to move her with his own hands, at this point) or having her climb down him (on the way up she'd found handholds on his frame that he'd not often felt) was anything less than strange...

"You should have Knock Out see to your hand," he said, straightening and holding his fists rather stiffly against his sides.

[Deleted]

I think I prefer the former Megatron. This one isn't scarier but he's more dangerous...

She couldn't quite say how but there was something a little too appealing about him. Especially when he showed care in inspecting her hand for damage. Which made no sense. She should have lost the hand to her own stupidity. The loss would have served her right and taught some semblance of a lesson. Maybe. Or it would have reinforced how terrifying and absolute he was. Either way, she could have cut her loses (har har) and gotten away. Instead she was stuck like this and ahprimushewaslookingather.

Her optics widened, the inner biolights alive with excess energy that made them burn brighter and paler. Somehow, the situation just got weirder and she wasn't even sure how. Unfortunately, she was also now entirely all too aware of straddling his shoulder and every minute shift of her weight against him. Ah Primus, just strike her down or something, already. This was starting to feel like torture. At least instant death would stop her from staring at him like an idiot. Which, to be fair, wasn't her fault. His unprotected helm was drawing her gaze whether she liked it or not. He looked...different. Out of place on the ship. She followed the twitch of his crest like a moth scoping out a particular dangerous flame.

...Buh....

And just like that, he broke her concentration. With a shrug of his shoulders, he returned his helm to the proper placement and held himself straighter. Which made her tighten her hold on his shoulder with a squeeze of her thighs and stiffen her spine. What the slag was she doing?

Freakin focus. You're staring at him like some whackadoodle. Oh, why couldn't he just be in a murderous mood today? Wouldn't that have been easier?? Just smack me off your shoulder or something!

"Right," she decisively said and actually kicked her cpu back onto an operating path and not a mental loop of of confusing thoughts. She could do this. All she had to do was get away and go die of embarrassment in her room. Super easy. Now if only she could-

"How in the frag did I get up here?" Now that she was back to her senses, the precarious and, frankly, ridiculous situation got back to her with a vengeance. She knew he was tall, but this was flipping ridiculous! So...so now what?? Did she jump off of him?

Oh yeah, hi, lemme just use you as a springboard. Don't mind me. Do it alllll the time.

So jumping was out. That involved standing and even she didn't have the ball bearings to stand on his shoulder. Especially not now. Which left several options that didn't see any better. She could climb off of him but would have to choose the front or the back. The back seemed the best option as, in theory, she climbed up that way so going back down should be just as easy. Right?

There's always the front... She mentally jerked away from that thought like she'd touched a hot stove eye. Guh, no. Just..no. Next option please. Or I could slide down him.....oh Primus, whyyyy? Is it too late to call Shockwave to just pick me up??

Briefly she covered her face with her hands and murmured the tiniest, wordless vocalization that pretty much summed up the entire sparring match. "Windy, advice on how to get down without...doing...something worse?" If she got stuck again, feelings bedamned, she was going to gnaw her arm off and flee. Or worse yet, what if she grabbed something sensitive?

[Deleted]

Fairwinds jerked out of her blatant staring, glanced across to Soundwave, confirmed she was the only one who'd even noticed the 3iC had come to check on his surveillance-wayward charge, and grinned mightily.

She had just opened her mouth to speak when Megatron cut her off.

"I think Fairwinds has made enough 'helpful' suggestions for one day."

Roulette's awkwardness, uncertainty and discomfort had rapidly surpassed Megatron's own, which had the curious effect of making him feel more in control of the situation. It was easier to take charge when her own attempt to disengage their bodies from direct contact had not so much failed as died before it had even begun.

"Let me worry about getting you down without further... incident."

Megatron's countenance sharpened, drawing in and turning to commit fully to the course of action. Roulette's mass was well within the load tolerance of one arm. Pick her up, put her down. Without preamble, he raised his hand to do just that.

Her straddling position, however, made it difficult. Ideally he would hold her by the waist and lift her straight up and off, but the curving spikes of his armour and the shape of her frame meant she would need to be pulled about at something of an awkward angle. And this was already awkward enough. If she was sat facing forward, then she would only need to lean into the air and his hand, and he could set her down with the kind of expediency they were both seeking.

Megatron drew his hand back a little and held it in front of her knee, palm open. Hopefully she would understand what he meant.

"Can you" -turning his face away just enough to hide it, he rolled his optics- "get your leg over?"

[Deleted]

"Let me worry about getting you down without further... incident."

Oh, this I got to see. I don't believe that little boost in confidence one bit. Nor do I believe that he has any good ideas about how to get me down that doesn't involve the brittle breaking of whatever pride I may have had left. Uh huh, let's see it. I'm waiting, Big M.

She tried not to let the inner monologue dictate her features or body language. If ever there was a limit to his patience, she was starting to think she'd blithely stepped over that line and then some. Which, if she was trying to be optimistic, meant he was learning to grow more control. Right. She shifted her leg against his chest and regretted the action. As fun as it was to straddle the Warlord (and it wasn't really) the position was starting to put stress on her hip joints.

Though, she hadn't a clue as to what his big plan was here. Ideally, and horribly, the easiest way would be for him to kneel and her to just roll off. However, neither of their prides were going to cede that idea and she wasn't going to be the first to suggest such an action. Even if it made sense. He knelt for her to climb up after all.

She started to see some semblance of his former self in the surety of tone and the smooth raise of his hand. Then that image crumbled like a domino tower when he wavered for the split second. She knew right away what the problem was and had to look away, down his back, to try and not laugh. Call it a break of nerves, call it the final encroachment of insanity, call it whatever. She just fought with herself not to laugh and covered her mouth for a moment, feigning a unconvincing stretch or something to cover the gesture.

"Can you" -turning his face away just enough to hide it, he rolled his optics- "get your leg over?"

Don't laugh, don't laugh don't laugh don'tlaughdon'tlaughdon'tdont.

"Huh..." Oh Primus, biting back the giggle that wanted to burble out of her throat was hard but she did. Even if her vox sounded huskier for the strain. "I thought you were going to worry about this?"

Yes, she might have been sprinting over that line but that sardonic quip felt good. She almost felt like her normal self, sure of herself for the tiny moment. (And who could blame her for wanting to laugh at him? Really?) Before he decided to punch her off of his shoulder, she wiggled about. Carefully, ever so mindful of the threat of kicking him in the face, she leaned back and flexed her leg up and brought the appendage over to join its other. Only as she settled did the fact that she'd done a near split almost in her Commander's face just settle over her thoughts like a mortifying blanket.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Someone put me out of my misery!!

[Deleted]

Megatron's helm turned very, very slowly to look up at her. His desert-dry expression faltered somewhat when he mistimed the movement and found her legs splayed in front of his chin. Whatever sardonic remark he'd had lined up died in his vocaliser.

He looked away until Roulette had completed her manoeuvre.

"When you're done," he bit out, something foreign and uncomfortable colouring his tone and fuzzing his field, "come forward into my hand."

Megatron's pedes were set in a sturdy, well-balanced stance upon the decking that did not accommodate fidgeting. He wondered, less fleetingly than he would have wished to, if he would be feeling this 'out of sorts' if his processor were fully intact.

Likely not, he decided with a chuff. Had this training session taken place whilst he was mentally whole, based on the crew's interactions with him and Roulette's tangible fear and anticipation of pain, he would have torn off the femme's hand as soon as it had become trapped and made that the lesson. As it was, he was going out of his way not to harm or upset her. It was... odd, and something he couldn't quite pin down the motivation for. Certainly it wasn't a need to impress her that was guiding his hand.

A question to ruminate upon in the relative private sanctuary of his quarters, he decided. Fairwinds could always be shutout of the way in her cupboard.

With Roulette sat properly on his shoulder, knees primly together, Megatron made a shallow scooping motion with his waiting hand.

"I'll catch you. I mean: I'll catch you."

[Deleted]

I'm going to have to have that memory forcibly removed from Windy. We can do that, right?? Because there is no way she's going to let me forget that I had my fraggin legs spread wide eagled like a-

She couldn't even finish the thought. It was too mortifying. Dear Primus, why did he have to turn and look?? This was his fault! Well..this time it was his fault. The last few times, she was definitely to blame. He just had horrible timing!

The bluster from scant seconds earlier was dampened for the moment. She meekly pinned her knees together and kept her face turn away from his. Eye contact wasn't even a threat at this point. Slag, no. She wasn't even sure she was going to be able to look him in the face after this debacle for some time. She didn't need to look at him to salute him, right??

"Well, at this point, you could just let me fall to my demise. Because I...I really don't think I could make this situation more awkward." She tried not to babble, she really did but the tic was there and overwhelming. Just anything to get the tangled knot of thoughts out. "Unless I made a crack about coming in your hands. You might not get the reference-ohprimus, why can't I shuddup?"

She covered her mouth with one hand and slid forward into his hand. If he decided to crush her, she really wouldn't blame him. In fact, a tiny part of her kind of hope he decided to shake some sense into her. Maybe then she'd stop putting her foot directly into her mouth around him. Because he seemed to be the only one that screwed up her mind so badly.

[Deleted]

He didn't know what to do with her suggestion of further awkwardness, which was in itself excruciating. Though he'd not understood the reference explicitly, he could glean from context and the way she'd screwed up in absolutely mortification what it meant. It put his own invitation into a stark new light, and his teeth ground together at the realisation.

The femme slid into Megatron's hand down the slope of his chassis, bumping on the rise of his collar faring. His palm was large on her side, fingers curling about her hip and taking a firm hold. He obligingly set Roulette on her pedes, taking the opportunity of her averted gaze to look at her and wonder how in the Pit it had come to this.

Megatron's mouth was a razor-thin line when she was safely back on the ground, jaw tight and optics just a little bit too bright. His hands returned to his sides, claws twitching, and with a faint tickling sensation running down from the nape of his recently-exposed neck.

His legendary skills as an orator were rather failing him, at this point, and he clenched his hands into fists out of frustration alone. Then he tucked them behind his back, grasping one wrist in a semi-formal stance.

This was so terribly, terribly awkward, and one of them should be leaving this strange situation. And neither of them should ever speak of it again. Roulette looked so uncomfortable the air practically ached. Entirely his fault.

On some impulse to make her feel better, Megatron chuffed a blast of warm air through his vents. Arching a brow, his voice utterly deadpan, he uttered, "Technically, you won."

To illustrate, he lifted his arm out a little to indicate the sliver of vivid green paint on his armour.