Sixshotnapped!

[niyazi-a.livejournal.com]

PG-13
IDW
Sixshot/Terrorcons
crack, mild bawdy
for coriopsis who I saw for like 6 seconds at Botcon. Hope to see you more next year!

“Just saying?” Rippersnapper said, trailing behind his teammates. “Just saying, you know this is a terrible idea, right?”

“Depends how you mean ‘terrible’,” Cutthroat said.

“Terrible meaning awesome? Frag yeah,” Sinnertwin said, one head turning to smirk at Rippersnapper. 

“I say, terrible meaning ‘he’s going to fraggin’ kill us’,” Rippersnapper said. “Sometimes, not sure how I let you mechs drag me into these things. “

“Because Sixshot,” Hun-Grr said.  As though that explained everything. And it didn’t explain everything, but it explained enough.

“I want him to sign my scrapbook!” Blot burbled.

“Or shoot a hole in it,” Sinnertwin snickered. “That’s a lot more likely.”

Blot’s optics widened. “That’d be pretty cool, too!”  He clutched the plastic-wrapped volume to his chassis.

“Not quite as cool if he shot you through it, too, though.” Sinnertwin, full of helpful suggestions. He flipped off Hun-Grr’s glower.

“Actually, I’d be pretty okay with that,” Rippersnapper muttered.  He bunked with Blot.  Maybe a good energon blast would do something about the smell.

“Think we all would,” Cutthroat said.”But personally, I got better fantasies involving Sixshot.”

“Mine are better,” Sinnertwin said, sharply.

“No,” Rippersnapper said. “Yours are just dirtier.”

Sinnertwin’s mouths grinned. “Same-same.”

“Shut the frag up,” Hun-Grr snapped. “Almost there. Maybe, you know, discretion.”

“Maybe we shoulda left Blot behind, then.”

Hun-Grr stopped, turning with a glower. “We agreed. All in or nothing. Teamwork.” 

Cutthroat snarled, but subsided.  He had agreed.  And then Blot had hugged him. And he’d sworn to kill Blot in his sleep. You know, the usual.

“Right,” Hun-Grr said. “Game plan is, we’re gonna see if he’s awake yet. If so, leave the talking to me.”

“Game plan sucks.” Cutthroat, just for form’s sake, apparently.  The others hushed him with glares, and in Sinnertwin’s case, a surreptitious kick, as they moved to the threshold. 

“Tact,” Hun-Grr said, before he coded the door lock. 

Right. That was probably not going to work.

[***]

The room was dark. They’d wanted him to, you know, sleep it off, when he woke up from the mickey they’d slipped him. There had been talks, of course, about, you know, taking advantage of his passed-out condition, but they’d all agreed on two things: Willing Sixshot was way more fun, and willing Sixshot was way less likely to kill them afterwards.

Two very, very big pluses.

However, that didn’t mean he was going to be…happy to see them.  When the door opened, Sixshot was blasting at a corner of the containment cube. His white armor had char marks from previous attempts, and the air inside the cube was hazy with smoke. 

“Welp,” Rippersnapper said, “he’s awake.”  And…we’re probably gonna die.

Sixshot whirled at the voice, gun ready. He froze. “…you.”

“Yeah,” Hun-Grr said. “Uh. Hi.”

“Some tact,” Cutthroat snorted.

Sixshot strode to the cube’s side closest to them. “What.”  His optics, over his facemask, were wary, almost hostile “Sell me out to the Reapers?”

A sharp wave of shock that ran through all of them. “No way!” Cutthroat blurted.

“Trust us,” Sinnertwin said, “LAST thing on our minds.”

“I want you to sign my scrapbook!” Blot bounced forward, squeaked as he slipped in his own ooze, and slammed face first into the containment field.

Sixshot’s head angled down to Blot. “You kidnapped me.  For a scrapbook.”

“Hey now.”  Sinnertwin frowned. “Kidnapped’s such an ugly word.”

“Yeah, we prefer, uh….” A helpless look at Hun-Grr.

“…Variable-Consent Relocation,” the leader coughed out after a klik.

The red optics lifted to stare at Hun-Grr. “What.”

Hun-Grr coughed.  He’d committed to it; it was a Terrorcon thing that he had to see it through. “Variable Consent Relocation,” he repeated. “It’s a thing.”

“A Terrorcon thing,” Blot supplied, helpfully. 

“Right.” The face was unreadable.  “And now.”

“Uh, now we negotiate.”

“Negotiate.” Sixshot shoved the gun in its holster, folding his arms over his chassis.

Sinnertwin stepped closer, sidling around Blot’s ooze trail. He waggled his eyebrows. “The conditions of your release.”

The optics narrowed. “Now or I kill you.”

Hun-Grr gave a nervous titter. “G-good opening gambit.”

“Is it.”

Sinnertwin tilted his heads. “Me? I’d’ve saved the big guns for a more dramatic moment, but, hey, gotta admire the style.”

“You haven’t even asked our terms,” Rippersnapper said. “You’re supposed to ask terms first.” Seriously.  They had a plan. 

A blank stare.

“It’s Sixshot!” Blot burbled, still rubbing his bonked face. “He doesn’t negotiate.” His optics widened, dropping his voice into a hushed whisper. “He eradicates!”

Sixshot stepped back from the containment wall.  “Fine. Terms.”

“You.  Us.” Sinnertwin wriggled. “You know.”

“I know…what.”

“PSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSST,” Blot stage whispered. “MAYBE HE DOESN’T KNOW!”

Rippersnapper mused. “Is it possible to be so badass as to not know?”

Cutthroat snorted. “Everyone knows what interfacing is.”

“Frag,” Sinnertwin said. “Coulda been fun to teach him. Oh well. New fantasy.”

“Interfacing. With you. You kidnapped me.”  Laying the dots on the table, refusing to connect them.  They…did sound kinda bad like that.

“Yeah, that’s…about it,” Rippersnapper said. 

A long silence. Really long. Long and silent enough that Hun-Grr’s tank’s empty rumble was audible.

“We each picked an alt mode of yours!” Blot said. He bounced, clutching his scrapbook. “I picked the jet!”

Sixshot glowered. “I turn into a gun.”

Sinnertwin snickered. “MINE!”

“Six modes.” Sixshot turned to face Sinnertwin. “Five of you.”

Sinnertwin grinned. “Two heads.” 

“So,” Hun-Grr said, stepping between them. “Our terms.  Now it’s your turn.”

Sixshot looked around the containment cube, back at them, and shrugged. “All right.”

“YES!” Sinnertwin pumped a fist.  Hun-Grr gave a grin of triumph. Even dour Rippersnapper managed a nod.  Diplomacy, for the win.

Hun-Grr moved to the containment field’s controls.

“WAIT!” Blot said, scurrying and pulling out a recorder. “I wanna get this for my scrapbook!”

Comments

[ravynfyre.livejournal.com]

OMG I LOVE THESE GUYS!!!!

[eerian_sadow]

oh, Blot! *giggles* i adore your Terrorcons, but Blot makes these stories with them something extra special. he's just priceless. you've made me absolutely love him.

Bwahahaha!

[gunmaxual.livejournal.com]

I think my favorite part was Sixshot laying out the situation. Boy, did it sound bad. XD Terrorcons are so funny how you write them.

[coriopsis.livejournal.com]

Hope to see you more next year too!

Blot is very cute for an ooze-leaking Terrocon, lol. I have to wonder what Sixshot felt when he thought the Terrorcons had sold him out to the Reapers.

[acidgreenflames.livejournal.com]

This story is fantastic! I do love Sixshot and his interactions with the Terrorcons are great. I love this story XD