Plays of Shadow

By: Amber Dawn

Chapter 10: Flirtation

PG

Disclaimer: I don’t own Beast Wars.

Rattrap awoke with a start, springing out of the chair he had fallen asleep in. Not sure what had brought him out of his sleep, he un-holstered his pistol and looked around Airazor’s darkened room.

“Slag,” he muttered. The recharge bed was empty and Airazor was nowhere in sight.

Rattrap sighed and tried to keep from flying off the handle. She was missing from her room. That didn’t mean she’d flown off somewhere. For all he knew she was in the control room, sitting up telling dirty jokes with Silverbolt.

Well, he amended, not dirty jokes, as Silverbolt was too prudish for such things.

Working a kink from his neck, Rattrap remembered why he didn’t like to fall asleep in chairs. He backed out of Airazor’s room, intending to check the command center. But as he turned to go down the hall, he heard a noise like a creaking door behind him. He swung around, his pistol held in front of him.

Airazor gasped and jumped back, and the animal behind her let out a frightened screech.

“Rattrap, calm down,” Airazor said, “It’s me.”

“Yeah,” Rattrap agreed, “You and that thing. What is that?”

Airazor gave him a scathing female you’re-being-insensitive look, which he ignored. He always ignored those looks, which explained why he got slapped a lot back home.

“It’s a deer, Rat Brain,” she said, hauling the thing out from behind her, “And she’s also the femme that I was telling you guys about. She just feels more comfortable in beast mode. Fleetshade, meet Rattrap. Rattrap, Fleetshade.”

The deer nodded. Rattrap remembered Airazor telling the Maximals about this femme after her ship had crashed the other day, how Fleetshade wasn’t interested in joining the Maximals or the Predacons. Rattrap had considered that a bunch of slag then, and now he wondered if this femme wasn’t just a Predacon spy taking advantage of Airazor’s trusting nature.

“I thought you said she wasn’t interested in joinin’ our side?” Rattrap asked suspiciously, “Changed her mind, has she? Found out that the Preds can make life real uncomfortable when you-”

“Shut up, Rattrap,” Airazor said sharply, cutting him off, “Fleetshade is not joining the Maximals. She just needs a safe place to stay for a while.”

“What’s wrong with the woods?” Rattrap shot back, suddenly realizing Fleetshade was also the female that had knocked him, Silverbolt and Cheetor out for no reason almost a week ago. “She seemed content enough to sit there on her skid making energon storms a few days ago!”

Another look. Airazor was sure good at that look. Rattrap wondered briefly if Tigatron had ever been on the receiving end of that look, then mentally reprimanded himself.

It was then he noticed that Airazor was looking a lot better, no longer grief-wrought and depressed. If Rattrap didn’t know any better, he’d say she was the old Airazor again.

Rattrap took a good long look at Fleetshade, sizing the deer up. Was this new femme responsible for Airazor’s change in attitude?

Telling himself he’d try his best to find out all he could about the girl later, Rattrap motioned toward the command center.

“Well, c’mon then. The bird-dog is on monitors, but everyone else should be up soon, and they’ll wanna greet our – ‘guest’.”

He then turned on his heel and led the two females to the control room, where Silverbolt was waiting for them with raised optic arches. He saw Rattrap first.

“What was all that yelling ab – oh, who is this?”

Silverbolt caught sight of Fleetshade mid-question and his optics widened.

“Henh,” Rattrap responded, “Airazor decided to go for a late-night excursion and brought one of her little friends home. You wanna do introductions, ‘Razor?”

Airazor drew herself up and scowled at Rattrap’s choice of words. Again Rattrap ignored it; he had grown use to scowls and frowns and being told to shut up around here. He spoke his mind and more often that not, his suspicions had some ground to them.

For instance everyone had thought he was wrong about Dinobot being a stinkin’ Pred all along, but the other Maximals hadn’t listened and now they’d paid the price with Megatron having his hands on the Golden Disc.

Pushing that thought away because it brought up too many unwanted emotions, Rattrap shrugged under Airazor’s gaze but did not apologize. The falcon-bot responded by sticking out her tongue at him. He smiled: this was indeed the Airazor he had known before Tigatron had left.

“Silverbolt,” Airazor finally said, attempting to dignify herself, “This is Fleetshade. Fleetshade, this is Silverbolt, our newest addition.”

“Pleased to meet you, milady,” Silverbolt offered with a gallant bow that made Airazor and Rattrap bite their lips to keep from laughing.

Fleetshade simply nodded again, silent. Rattrap thought this was odd, considering the shrieking the girl had done when he’d first met her. Then again she had been scared and hysterical then, or so he’d been told. He didn’t trust ‘bots who were too quiet.

“What, you don’t speak?” Rattrap prodded the femme, hoping to get her angry enough so that she’d transform or at least say something. He had to get her to open up at least a bit so that he could make some decisions about her. “C’mon, don’t be shy.”

“I’m hardly shy, you irritating little rodent,” the deer suddenly snapped in a high, slightly lilting feminine voice. This shocked Rattrap enough for him to take a few steps back. “I merely know the merits of remaining silent until it’s necessary to speak. Never reveal your true nature to the enemy until it’s too late, that’s the way I work. I don’t trust you any more than you trust me, so back off, okay?”

Rattrap gave a low whistle, impressed despite himself. That cleared up the ‘too quiet’ part. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a mock salute. “Sheesh, just askin’. Y’know, you sound a lot like Dinobutt when he’s riled.”

“Rattrap, lay off. Fleetshade has her reasons,” was all Airazor said, but Rattrap heard the warning beneath the words. He nodded.

“Fleetshade? Is that you?” came a voice from the hallway.

Rattrap rolled his optics at Cheetor’s excited tone. Considering Fleetshade’s current mood, the kid was about to get flattened.

But to his surprise, Fleetshade turned around to face the hallway and gave the deer equivalent to a hesitant smile. “Cheetor? How are you? Are you alright? I’m so sorry about the other day.…”

‘Hey,’ Rattrap remembered, ‘that’s right! Fleetshade had Cheetor out in the woods all day in a damaged condition and didn’t bother helping him. Sure Airazor says she was incapable, but she coulda done somethin’!”

His suspicions renewed, the short Maximal watched as Cheetor assured Fleetshade that it was fine and that he understood.

That settled, Fleetshade bowed her head. “Okay, okay, you’re not mad at me. That’s good. Hmmm…I feel kinda out of place like this. Fleetshade – robot mode.”

Rattrap was about to point out that the girl would be out of place no matter what form she assumed when the deer unfolded gracefully to reveal a slight wisp of a robot with huge brown optics and a shape to make any male lose his voice. She also had no visible weapons to speak of.

“Hey,” he said with a wicked grin when he found his voice, “She’s even shorter that I am!”

Fleetshade narrowed her optics and turned to face him. “Are you implying something, rat?”

Rattrap put his palms out in a ‘no way’ gesture. “Absolutely not,” he said, his grin still in place. He could see that his tactics were starting to work on her. The way ‘bots reacted to his prodding was one sure way for him to determine things about them.

“Good,” the deer-bot responded, but nevertheless Rattrap could see a hint of some sort of held-back emotion trying to break through in her face.

Looking around, Rattrap saw Airazor giving him a warning look, Cheetor ready to defend Fleetshade, and Silverbolt watching the whole exchange with wary amusement.

“And just what could you do to me, girly?” Rattrap pressed, changing tacks. “Charm me to death? I don’t see any weapons on your pretty little person, so I guess you….”

At that moment he trailed off, because the look on Fleetshade’s face changed from guarded to terrified. She took a step backwards, then bolted from the room.

“Ugh, you can never just stop while you’re ahead, can you Rattrap?” Airazor spat as she turned to follow the neutral female.

Rattrap was too shocked to take in the comment. In all his life, he had never elicited a reaction like that. Some ‘bots had laughed when he provoked them. Some had ignored him, some had even attacked him. None had ever been afraid of him.

“Good job, Rat Face,” Cheetor scoffed before following Airazor. Silverbolt looked up at Rattrap with a confused frown on his face.

“Why did you do that?” the fuzor asked, “She was already uncomfortable around us; why did you push it?”

Rattrap sighed and flopped down in chair. “It’s how I judge people,” he shrugged, figuring an honest reply was best, “I expected her to laugh or at the very worst attack me, but I didn’t expect her to be afraid.”

“Even after what she said about males before?” Silverbolt asked, still confused, “We determined that she had some sort of disagreement with the opposite gender, didn’t we?”

Rattrap simply stared at the fuzor. He had completely forgotten about that. Normally he thought Silverbolt’s stupid ideas of chivalry were ridiculous, but perhaps the fuzor’s sensitivity really wasn’t that overblown at times.

“I forgot,” the rodent replied meekly, more chastised by Silverbolt’s confused stare than Optimus’ lectures. The fuzor honestly couldn’t figure out why Rattrap had acted the way he had, and that stung.

Silverbolt nodded. “Then I believe you owe the lady an apology,” he stated, turning back to the monitors as if the matter was settled.

Rattrap snorted. “I don’t apologize. Never have.”

Silverbolt slanted a look at him. “Then perhaps you should start.”

Tarantulas sighed and switched off the monitor that connected to his arachnoid cameras, satisfied that he had overheard all he would that night.

“How very interesting,” he murmured, “It seems the females have created some sort of alliance.”

His arachnoids had been following the deer female since the first day she had crashed. Before being taken out by Dinobot, Tarantulas had ordered his pets to follow Blackarachnia, curious as to where she had been. He knew his creation well enough to be certain that she would return to wherever she had been before the battle, and sure enough his suspicions had proved correct: the she-spider had found the pilot of the spacecraft and somehow managed to earn her trust.

After being repaired that day, Tarantulas had returned to his lab and ordered his arachnoids to return to the clearing where Blackarachnia had been, and since then they had been tracking the deer girl, keeping watch on her night and day.

After finding out about the girl’s energon weapon, Tarantulas couldn’t contain his curiosity. He had gone to see her before the aliens had arrived, reasoning that since Blackarachnia had earned the girl’s trust it couldn’t be too hard. His intention had been to take the deer female back to his lab and perform tests on her to see if she did in fact possess the ability to store and control large amounts of energon radiation, then try to find a way to adapt this weapon to himself. Or if that was not possible, he would put the girl under his control and use her to achieve his goals.

Unfortunately that meddlesome Maximal female had showed up and he had been forced to leave, but something had niggled at his mind. The newcomer had trusted Blackarachnia almost immediately, and seemed to be on speaking terms with Airazor, but wouldn’t reveal anything to him. It had struck him then that perhaps this girl had a partiality to females, possibly coming from bad experience with males.

His careful surveillance had borne fruit tonight, when he had listened in on the girl’s story. Unfortunately for him, he had made himself known to Blackarachnia earlier in the day and so the witch was wary enough to detect the faint scrabbling of one of his arachnoids. No matter; he had others handy. He had listened in on the females’ conversation, and had followed Blackarachnia as she went to retrieve the parts of the spaceship.

Tarantulas tapped a few buttons and the data tape backed up a few cycles. He then hit the Play button and watched with a smile as his camera followed Blackarachnia through the woods.

After some time, Blackarachnia stopped and turned in a full circle, then sighed, obviously frustrated.

“Look, Legs, I know your little drones are out here and I know you’re watching me. So why don’t we cut the slag: we need to talk. I’ll be in your lab by sunrise.”

Tarantulas giggled and clapped his claws together with mirth.

“Ah, we are the feisty little witch,” he hissed, glancing at his exterior camera. The sun was just making itself known above the horizon to the East.

Tarantulas flicked the monitor off and closed down his files, anticipating Blackarachnia’s arrival. He hadn’t had enough time to set a trap for her, and she knew it. Why else would she have announced she was coming so soon?

But Tarantulas had no need of traps to catch his pretty little witch. He was going to find out what she had stolen from Megatron’s datatrax, and if she was stupid enough to come right into his lair so that he could extract the information, then by all means she was welcome.

“What’s so funny, Legs?”

Tarantulas’ laughter died as quickly as it had come. He gazed up into the shadows of the cave’s ceiling and sure enough a black widow spider was descending on a blue thread of cyber webbing.

“How long have you been up there?” he asked, surprised she had traveled this fast from Sector Gamma. He had forgotten how swift she could be.

“Long enough to see you got my message. Liked it, did you?”

“It was amusing, yes,” Tarantulas replied casually.

Blackarachnia dropped gracefully to the floor and transformed, but kept her distance. ‘Smart girl’ Tarantulas thought smugly. ‘Just the way I created her.’

“Uh oh,” the widow said with dry amusement. “You have that look on your face. The one that means you have something up your proverbial sleeve.”

“My dear widow, I always have something up my sleeve,” Tarantulas replied, turning his back to her to play with his monitor. The gesture showed that he considered her absolutely no threat.

“You yourself ensured I’d have no time to set traps for you,” he continued, “and yet you’re still wary.” He turned back to face her. “And here I thought we were partners.”

She was still where she had dropped, regarding him levelly with the usual mixture of interest and disgust. He waited patiently for her to make the first move.

“Leave Fleetshade alone,” she said abruptly. “I’m warning you, leave her alone. She has no part in this war and she’s of no use to you. Let her be.”

“Oohoo,” Tarantulas chuckled, “You’re awfully defensive of a ‘bot that’s ‘of no use’, now aren’t you? If she was truly useless you wouldn’t keep going back to the forest. Or are you protecting her for another reason? Starting to grow attached to her, are we?”

Blackarachnia scoffed. “Hardly,” she said, but her optics betrayed her. They always did. Tarantulas could always tell when Blackarachnia was lying because her optics would hold her true emotion. Few others could read that tiny clue, but he knew what to look for.

Tarantulas simply smiled at her as he always did when he caught her in a lie. The she-spider made a frustrated gesture and started pacing up and down, muttering under her breath.

He waited for her to finish. When she stopped pacing and faced him again, she had collected herself. Her face belied nothing more than annoyance and anger, her default expression when dealing with him.

At times Tarantulas surprised himself at how well he knew his creation. He no longer resided in her head, but he had retained a near-perfect understanding of her moods and emotions, akin to a bonding tie. He was fairly certain she was unaware of this tie, simply because if she had known she would have come after him long ago to erase it.

Only he couldn’t erase it. It was permanent, and there was nothing either of them could do to get rid of it, save for ending their lives.

“Well?” he asked her, “which story are you going to stick with, witch? Either the deer female is useful, or she is useless and you are emotionally attached to her. Which is it?”

Tarantulas watched in fascination as Blackarachnia worked through this. He had cornered her as effectively as any booby trap, and once she realized that-

“Look, Tarantulas, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull but I’m not playing your game. I came to tell you to stay away from her; I found her first and she’s mine.”

“So you admit she has her uses?”

“Of course she has her uses! For me. You see, she’s terribly emotionally damaged, and she doesn’t trust males at all. She only trusts females, which means the only way you’ll get to her is through a female. If you try to force yourself on her she’ll blast you, I guarantee it, so I guess you have to rely on me.” She batted her optics and her tone took on the simpering quality that it did when she was feeling smug and was playing innocent.

Of course she realized she didn’t sound innocent; it was just a mockery designed to irritate the accuser because they both knew there was no proof against her. She had performed the act countless times on Megatron, but she rarely tried it with Tarantulas.

With good reason. He was up and had her throat in his claw before she could move.

“Don’t you dare pull that with me, witch,” he threatened, pleased when her optics widened with shock and fear. He shook her once for good measure and released her, then dodged a kick aimed at his midsection.

“So that’s the way you want to settle this, is it?” He asked her when she took another swipe at him. He was used to this: whenever he pushed her into showing any fear for him, she paid him back with physical violence.

Without a word, she hit him with a barrage from her arm guns, sending him flying back across the cavern. The pain hardly daunted him anymore, but he wasn’t a fan of being shot at. He was on his feet in nanoklicks and had his own gun in hand. She dodged his shot and rolled across the cavern to stand in front of his monitors, where she knew he wouldn’t shoot her for fear of hitting his precious equipment.

“That’s cheap,” he complained, which caused her to crack a smile.

“I’m a cheap fighter, you should know that by now, partner,” she drawled, using the label of endearment that said the fight was over.

Tarantulas was aware that Blackarachnia disliked him intensely, but there was also a point of mutual understanding between the two that may have resulted from their mental link or the amount of time they spent together: a common ground that wasn’t friendly but nor was it hostile.

Blackarachnia let out a small laugh when Tarantulas crossed the cavern to put himself between her and his computers. She reached up and lazily traced the patterns on his chest with her claw, getting into his personal space as was her usual practice.

“I’d almost forgotten how much fun it is to tangle with you until yesterday,” she continued. “What’ve you been up to in here all this time, anyway?”

“None of your business,” he told her, but his tone lacked the firmness he had intended. It was very hard to be stern with her so close to him like this….

Frustrated with himself, Tarantulas pushed her roughly away and sat down at his monitor. He too had forgotten what an effect she had on him in these situations. He could feel Blackarachnia smirking behind him and scowled.

“Well, I think I’ll take my leave now,” she told him breezily. “I feel like such a terrible nuisance when you’re working....”

“Yes, that would be…hey, wait!” he called and turned around, but she was already gone.

“Blast!” Tarantulas cursed himself, “I completely forgot to press her for those stolen codes! Curse that female!”

Just then, the echo of mocking feminine laughter carried down to him from the shadowy roof of the cave.

Fleetshade reverted back to beast mode and galloped her way down the hall, hooves skidding on the smooth metal floor. She had to get to the door she’d come in through. She could make the jump to the ground as a deer – she hoped – and then she’d be safe.

Of all the things Fleetshade had expected on entering the Maximal base, males making passes at her was the least of them. Now she could add that to the list of reasons not to trust this place.

“Fleetshade! Wait!”

Airazor. She was following her. She was going to try and convince her to go back. Didn’t she see how dangerous it was here for both of them?

There! The door was at the end of this hallway. Fleetshade was approaching it fast but was unable to make a sudden stop on this slagging metal floor! She skidded the final few meters and slammed into the wall next to the door, only to find the way blocked by something moving very fast, faster than she…Cheetor?

Cheetor was obviously used to running within the base in his beast mode and had gotten to the door before her. He had halted smoothly and was now standing in front of the hatch, blocking the way out.

“Fleetshade, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Fleetshade!” Airazor caught up to the pair of them and touched the deer on the shoulder, “Don’t let Rattrap bother you; he’s just like that, he didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Oh, he didn’t, did he?” Fleetshade replied acidly, still clearing the dots from her vision, “I’ve seen that look before, and that was no joke.”

“No, it wasn’t a joke. But it wasn’t serious, either. He just does that, it’s the way he works around females. There’s nothing wrong with it; he does it to me all the time, even when I was with…with Tigatron. He would never act on it. It’s just harmless flirtation.”

“’Flirtation’?” Fleetshade frowned. “What’s that?”

Fleetshade watched Airazor’s expression change from worry to something like sympathetic understanding.

“You don’t know what flirting means?” Cheetor asked incredulously, but a quick headshake from Airazor silenced him.

“Oh, Fleetshade, I forgot. You wouldn’t know, would you?”

“Know what?” Fleetshade asked, “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. Just please, let me out.”

“And where would you go?” Airazor asked harshly, “Back to the woods, where you’re an easy target? To the Predacons, where flirtation is the least of what you’ll get? Or will you just wander aimlessly around until somebody finds you and captures you?”

Fleetshade stopped to think, shocked at Airazor’s tone. The falcon femme was right, but Fleetshade couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t!

“Hey, what’s all this commotion? Airazor? What’s going on?”

Airazor sighed and turned around, revealing two large robots approaching from the far end of the hall. One had green and brown coloring, the other an odd mix of earth tones. Both were male. Fleetshade froze.

“Optimus, Rhinox. Maybe you can help us.”

“Help you with what?” the one in green and brown asked, peering at Fleetshade. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Yes,” Airazor replied wearily. “Fleetshade, this is Optimus Primal, the Maximal commander,” she pointed out the one in earth tones, “and Rhinox, our technician,” she motioned at the one in green. “Guys, this is Fleetshade. I brought her here because she needs a place to stay temporarily.”

The one called Optimus Primal nodded. “She’s welcome to stay if she wants to.”

“But I don’t want to!” Fleetshade protested. “Cheetor, get out of the way! I’m leaving!”

“No, you’re not!” Airazor argued, “I’m not letting you leave. It’s too dangerous for you out there!”

“It’s dangerous for me here!” Fleetshade insisted.

Airazor sighed explosively and turned to face the others. “I made the mistake of letting her talk to Rattrap unprepared,” she told them sourly.

To Fleetshade’s surprise, both Rhinox and Optimus Primal smiled at this. Rhinox even let out a short chuckle.

“That would explain some things,” the green ‘bot said. “What did he say?”

“He started flirting with her,” Airazor reported direly. Why was she trying not to laugh? It wasn’t funny! And what was this ‘flirting’ thing? Was that what they called it when males tried to - to….

Optimus let out a huff of laughter. “That’s sure to scare anyone off.”

“You got that right,” Rhinox agreed, “but what’s the big deal?”

Fleetshade remained silent. Airazor sobered and sighed. “Fleetshade has…had bad experiences. To say the least.”

Not sure whether or not she was glad Airazor had said that, Fleetshade waited for the others to react.

Optimus Primal and Rhinox nodded understandingly. Cheetor’s optics widened, then he looked down.

“I’ll go talk to Rattrap,” Optimus said gravely, but when he turned Airazor laid a hand on his arm. “He didn’t know,” she said quietly. “It’s not his fault.”

Fleetshade rolled her optics. Of course it was his fault. But she stayed silent as Optimus halted and nodded. “Later then,” he sighed, then looked at Fleetshade.

“Well, Fleetshade, it’s your decision. If you wish to stay here, you’re welcome to. If you wish to leave, I’m not going to stop you. But I don’t suggest leaving this way: it’s quite the drop if you can’t fly.”

“Optimus!” Airazor protested, “she has to stay here! It’s not safe out there; Tarantulas is after her!”

“Tarantulas?” Cheetor growled. “What does he want with Fleetshade?”

“Primus only knows,” Airazor replied, “but it’s Tarantulas, so it can’t be anything good. That’s why she has to stay here.”

“We can’t force her to stay,” Optimus said gently.

“Would you all stop talking about me as if I’m not here?!” Fleetshade shouted, feeling very trapped. “I made a mistake in coming here. I’m not staying to be preyed on by males like Rattrap!”

The Maximals all cracked up at this. Fleetshade watched them laugh and wondered if they were laughing at her. She didn’t care. She used the distraction to transform to robot mode, then pushed past Cheetor to wrench open the hatch. She was about to leap out when something caught her arm.

She glanced back and saw that it was Cheetor.

“Let me go,” she snarled, starting to panic. She was defenseless, but they couldn’t know that. “I’ll blast you!”

“Fleetshade, don’t go,” he pleaded, still holding onto her arm. “Please. I don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll –“ he paused for a nano. “I’ll protect you from Rattrap!”

Fleetshade took a moment to look Cheetor over. His optics pleaded with her to stay, but for what reason? Did he really care for her safety, or was it all a trick to get her to stay so that they could reprogram her? What about Airazor? Was she in on it, too? Had Blackarachnia been right about her?

“Please,” Cheetor asked again. He looked so genuine…and something showed in his face. It reminded her of something, something she couldn’t quite recall.

“You’ll protect me?” she asked, incredulous, “really?”

“Really,” he assured her. She considered this for a cycle, staring into his silently pleading optics and trying to make a decision.

“Okay,” she finally conceded, then let him pull her back inside the Axalon. The hatch was closed behind her and she found herself face-to-face with the Maximals again.

“I’ll stay,” she told them, “but only if you keep Rattrap away from me.”

Optimus scratched behind one audio sensor and grimaced. “Rattrap’s a bit – hard to control, but I’ll see what I can do. Welcome to the Axalon, Fleetshade.”

With that, the Maximal commander turned and left. Rhinox flashed Fleetshade a quick smile and followed, leaving the deer femme alone with Cheetor and Airazor.

It was then she realized Cheetor still hadn’t released her arm. She shook it gently and he let go with a small “Oh. Sorry.”

Airazor slung her arms around Fleetshade’s shoulders and steered her back down the hall. “Come on,” she said. “Until we get around to assigning you your own quarters, you can bunk with me.”

Fleetshade nodded and allowed herself to be led, feeling oddly comforted by Cheetor’s solid presence on one side and Airazor’s physical support on the other.

The falcon-bot led Fleetshade down the corridor to the third door on the left and pressed the release button. The door hissed open and Airazor let go of Fleetshade’s shoulders. The deer femme wandered in while Airazor said something to Cheetor in a low voice. The young male responded tersely and left.

“What did you say to him?” Fleetshade asked as Airazor joined her in the room. The door hissed closed again behind the Maximal.

“I told him not to ream Rattrap out too badly,” Airazor replied. “He doesn’t deserve to get yelled at by everybody. It really wasn’t his fault; he didn’t know.”

Fleetshade frowned. “But he-“

“Fleetshade, listen to me,” Airazor said, cutting the neutral femme off. “I understand that you have very little experience with males, and what little experience you have had was unpleasant for you. But you have to understand that not all males are out to get you.”

“I know, but-“

“Just listen. I didn’t want to explain this in front of everyone, but you need to hear me out. There are some males, Rattrap being one of them, who act a certain way around females. Rattrap was not making a pass at you; he wasn’t being serious. ‘Flirting’ is like, well, sort of like playing. It’s a way of letting a female know that a male appreciates the way she looks, acts, etcetera. Rattrap does that with all females, including me. It’s just how he works; he doesn’t mean anything by it.

“Rattrap also likes to push people’s buttons. He knows just what to say or do to get a ‘bot riled; it’s his way of getting to know strangers. Yes, it’s irritating, but it’s the way he handles it and it seems to work. He’s really not a bad guy, he just takes some getting used to. What you’ve got to do is learn not to take it seriously, because that isn’t how it’s meant. Can you understand that?”

Fleetshade was silent for a cycle, taking this all in. She was the first to admit she had no concept as to how males worked, and what Airazor had just said made a lot of sense in a strange way.

“I think so,” Fleetshade finally sighed. “I guess I’ve got some learning to do, huh?”

Airazor smiled. “It’ll come in time, trust me. Nobody here could stand Rattrap for their first few days of knowing him; I know I couldn’t. It took me a few days to learn not to be insulted but flattered, and to find the humor behind his jibes.”

Fletshade nodded. “I acted really stupid, didn’t I?”

“No you didn’t,” Airazor said, so fiercely that Fleetshade jumped back. “Don’t ever say that. You acted how any scared, inexperienced female would have. If Rattrap had been a real threat, you would have been right to run when you did. It shows that you’re smart and won’t stay in a bad situation. But you have to realize that you’re among Maximals now, and the last thing any of us want is to hurt you in any way. I promise.”

The bird-bot said this with such conviction that Fleetshade smiled. “Okay,” she agreed.

Airazor gave her an answering smile and turned to the door. “I’m going to go and see if I can prevent Optimus from taking Rattrap’s head off, then I’m gonna yell at him for a while. Female privilege, you know.” Airazor winked. “You’re welcome to crash in here for a while. You didn’t get any sleep last night and you’re probably tired.”

Fleetshade realized that she was exhausted, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She had a ton of adreno-chemicals flowing through her circuitry, and she’d have to calm it down before she could rest.

“I’ll go with you,” the deer-bot said with a declining headshake.

As she followed the Maximal out the door into the hall, something caught Fleetshade’s gaze. It was a holograph flickering on the table Airazor was using as a nightstand. It showed two robots hand in hand, laughing on the edge of a lake somewhere. One was recognizable as Airazor, and the other Fleetshade assumed was Tigatron.

The door slid closed behind her and Fleetshade’s gaze shifted to the Maximal female ahead of her. Airazor had been so kind, so patient throughout this entire ordeal, even in the face of her own personal tragedy. Amazed at the bird-bot’s strength, Fleetshade followed her to the control room, where it seemed a shouting match had broken out.