The Obligatory Team Meeting Montage
Jun. 20th, 2011 09:10 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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shadow_vectorPG-13
TFA
Rodimus Minor/Red Alert
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tf_rare_pairing June challenge, 20 June ‘promises’.
warnings: innuendo, crack, sexual harassment
A/N I read somewhere that Rodimus was originally supposed to be the ‘jerk’ character of TFA, before they cooked up Sentinel. I try to make him a likeable jerk, from the James T. Kirk school. I wrote these idiots before, here. :D Team Athenia FTW!
All right, Chosen One, Rodimus thought, settling himself in the jump shuttle’s seat, time to see what you’re made of, what happens when the rubber meets the road, when the air meets turbine, when…you need more metaphors. The packet rustled in his chassis storage, like a secret wanting out. His first command. All the doubters? All those mechs who’d thought he’d be a flash in the pan? Yeah, they just better listen up and pay attention, because Rodimus was going to show them how it was done.
He…hoped.
He tugged the packet from his storage, feeling the plastic crackle under his fingers. His team. The raw materials he would forge into the finest weapon the Autobot forces had ever seen. And he’d take care of them, too. They’d be best friends, fighting their way across the galaxy, blazing a trail of glory and, well, MORE glory across the history vids.
He opened the packet, the datasheets on his team spilling into his hands. Time to see the die that Fate had cast…erm…into his hands?
Never mind that. First up: Ironhide. Solid record, bit of a pranker. Good. Meant he had a sense of humor, and Rodimus considered humor to be essential for the job. Anything was better than Mr Grim Longarm. He shuddered. He hoped there weren’t any cold diodes like that on his team.
Oh. One of those with freaky powers. Well, that could be cool, too. As long as those powers didn’t make Rodimus look bad. Well, it would just remind him to challenge himself, keep him on his toes. He nodded. A square deal and a square dealer. Good stuff.
Hot Shot. Huh. As advertised. Well, that was going to make the all important Cool Team Nickname kind of hard. And Rodimus was a huge believer in Cool Team Nicknames. Made a mech feel like he belonged. Esprit de corps and all that. He seemed…charming. Rakish, a little…fiery. Rodimus laughed at his own pun, but nodded. Yeah, the kid reminded him a lot of…himself. Which meant, of course, bursting with potential. Brought a little unpredictability to the team. Good. He’d keep things from getting stale.
Brawn. Another ‘as advertised.’ Looking at his scores, pretty obvious why he wasn’t called ‘Brains’. Still, good muscle was hard to come by. A bit old fashioned—classic, Rodimus decided. Classic. And Ironhide was the newfangled superpower type mech—but there was a reason classics became classics.
One last, the medic slot. He flipped the page, finding only a blank sheet, labeled TBD. Hrm. Surprise element. Well, he was sure their medic would be absolute top notch. The only bummer was that he’d hoped to spend the rest of the flight imagining the great adventures he’d have with his team. Which was kind of hard, with one piece missing.
[***]
Well, Rodimus thought, as Hot Shot bounced from his office. First day on the job and things were going well, despite the rough start. He’d heard Ironhide throw out that old rust about the most dangerous thing in the Autobot Army was a Minor with a compass and a map, but Rodimus had pointed out, severely, that he had aced both day and night landnav. That had settled that, and he figured Ironhide to be a friendly old crust.
Brawn…had a few rough edges. Very…short rough edges. But Rodimus had gotten over that moment of awkwardness when he couldn’t see the mech and asked If he were invisible just fine. Sure he’d been a bit…surprised when the whole desk got lifted, but hey. Sense of humor saves everything, right? And Brawn had put the desk back, so…no harm done. Note to self: pay attention to a mech’s size stats!
And Hot Shot: adorable. Feisty little guy, Rodimus thought, as he watched the mech bounce across the parade ground. They’d swapped stories, and he’d already got to nudge the kid toward the Autobot Academy. Great things in this one’s future, Rodimus felt sure of it.
Just the Mystery Medic to meet, now, he thought. One more member and his team was complete. He turned back toward his desk.
“Red Alert, reporting for duty.” The voice was husky but very, very female, and very, very hot.
Rodimus turned. “Helloooooo, nurse!” Had he said that out loud? Oops, apparently he had, by the way the dainty mouth pursed, the way that sultry voice said,
“We prefer ‘medical professional’.”
“You can profess on me all you want.” Smoooooth, Rodimus. If you were any smoother with the ladies, they’d bottle you up as Zero Friction Lubricant.
Heh. Lubricant.
“That supposed to be funny?”
Erm. Well, yes. Rodimus winced, then recovered—with his usual aplomb, he thought—reaching out. “Datafile, please?” Always good to use courtesy with the ladies.
She handed it over, dropping the chit from the air over his palm, taking care not to touch him. Liked to play hard to get, huh? Well, Rodimus Minor liked hard to get. It was his favorite kind of ‘get’. Well, other than ‘really easy to get’. That was also good…right. The datafile.
“Protihex Medical Mechanical, huh?” He raised a supraorbital ridge. Pretty high class.
“Oh good, you can read,” Red Alert said.
Rodimus laughed. Smart and witty, too! Now if only he could get her to crack a smile, that joke would…maybe not sting. “I graduated from the Autobot Academy,” he said. “Top of my class.” See? We’re both smart: bondingtime!
Or maybe not. “Scum rises to the surface.”
Ouch. Wow. That was…a little uncalled for. What this clearly called for was…more humor! “Know what they called me at the Academy?” On second thought, he probably didn’t want to hear her guess. “Hot Rod.” He waggled his supraorbital ridges, winking.
“Heat’s often a sign of infection. I hope you got that looked at.”
Rodimus blinked. That was…ow. Seriously. Well, two can play at this game. He buried himself in the datafile. “Huh. Don’t see any courses here on Bedside Manner. Perhaps you and I could…practice.”
Apparently, also missing from her datafile was the fact that Red Alert was…damn fast. Rodimus found himself pinned to the wall, one hand at his throat, the other, featuring an alarmingly large needle, hovered over Rodimus’s…well…rod. “Perhaps not.”
He put his hands up, placating. “Okay, okay, sure. I was just, you know…,” he dredged his Dashing Grin out of subspace. Strange how he’d never had this problem at Academy Mixers. Femmes adored The Rod.
Just not Red Alert, apparently.
“Look, maybe we can talk this over? You know? Over drinks—ohprimus--!” The needle jabbed over his pelvic armor, scratching the enamel and he gave a distinctly unheroic squeak, trying to shove his aft back through the wall to get some space. Honestly: who needed a needle that big?!
“Not some little femme fresh off the energon farm, my optics all dazzled by a snazzy paint job,” she said, before stepping back, the needle—thankfully—stowing itself.
“I can see that,” Rodimus said, his voice still slightly squeakish.
“You’ll treat me with respect, same as any other mech on this team, got it?”
Rodimus nodded, running a careful hand over his crotchplate. That…was not going to buff out. “Promise.”
“Good,” she said, glowering, brandishing a disturbing array of surgical tools. “Just remember, I know where you sleep.”
“You can join me any tiiii—oh no!” Rodimus bolted from the office, hand clapped over his mouth, Red Alert in hot (very hot, rowr) pursuit. “I can’t help it! It’s part of my charm!”
“I can excise that for you!”
As he dashed across the parade ground, Rodimus couldn’t help but grin. He pounded toward where Ironhide stood, confused. “Team building exercise,” Rodimus yelled, dodging behind the red mech. His team? Was awesome.
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no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 01:17 pm (UTC)“You can profess on me all you want.” Smoooooth, Rodimus. If you were any smoother with the ladies, they’d bottle you up as Zero Friction Lubricant.
Heh. Lubricant.
Oh god, and so many. I'm laughing so hard it huuuuuuurts.
*so much love to you*
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Date: 2011-06-21 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 01:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-21 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 01:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-21 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-21 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 01:50 pm (UTC)*ded of laughing*
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Date: 2011-06-20 03:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-21 01:37 am (UTC)He's such a jerk but it's impossible (I hope) to hate him.
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Date: 2011-06-20 06:12 pm (UTC)brb, dying of laughter!
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Date: 2011-06-21 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 07:15 pm (UTC)The Rod. Oh gods... XD
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Date: 2011-06-21 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 10:59 pm (UTC)Funny! Shame the team didn't get a lot of airtime durign TFA. I would have loved to see their interactions. But I sure did like the fun you did with the fic!
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Date: 2011-06-21 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-20 11:24 pm (UTC)And you're awesome with writing banter!
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Date: 2011-06-21 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-21 12:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-21 01:41 am (UTC)Glad you liked!
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Date: 2011-06-21 11:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-22 03:17 am (UTC)You write awesome crack.
I hate Rodimus, so this hit me just right.