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The sun had set hours ago and everyone else had taken their leave, but in the dark of the Autobot base, Elita still stood squarely in front of Teletraan-1 with her eyes glued to the screen.
Her deft fingers tap away on the computer’s intricate keys as she drafts report after report like a simple office drone. Paperwork never slept, so neither did she.
Several distraction-free hours tick by before something in Teletraan’s sidebar grabs Elita’s attention. It’s a map of Witwicky and the surrounding area, one they use to monitor anomalies.
Everything is how it usually appears these days—calm and quiet—save for a small blip on the radar that blinks in and out almost rhythmically. She tilts her head slightly as she watches it fade and then return.
A rogue energy signal at this hour was odd, but not necessarily something to worry about. Following protocol, she would just make note of it and bring it up later when Optimus and the rest of the team were available.
She returns to her monotonous task but finds herself making more and more typos as her eyes wander back to the blip. It seems to beckon to her, beseeching her to find it, to solve it.
She silently admonishes herself for such childish thoughts before the blip disappears once more and doesn't return. Without realizing it, she holds her breath.
A minute drags into five and then as if it had never stopped, the energy signal comes back to life.
Elita smiles. That was as probable cause as any. A quick recess wouldn’t hurt her, would it?
She transforms then, leaving her unfinished clerical work behind her, and heads for the open air.
+
The Autobot trudges through the underbrush of the Pennsylvanian woods with a purpose, tracking the signal like a hungry predator.
Pushing through trees and shrubbery, she nears her goal.
Up ahead is the signal, or at least, that’s what her tracker says. She scans the area but finds nothing amiss. Everything is utterly and perfectly Earthen with no Arachnomechs or Quintessons in sight. A small relief.
She comes right upon the signal as she enters a large clearing. Then, as it did before, the blip blinks out of existence. Elita frowns, staring down at her tracker and waiting.
When it doesn’t return, she looks up from the device and spots something she swears hadn’t been there when she approached.
Getting closer, Elita can make out a single word drawn crudely into the topsoil. She squints.
Surprise.
The Decepticon’s presence is announced only by the telltale crackling of red lightning before Skywarp’s fist collides with her face.
Elita staggers back, discombobulated. The lightning returns but this time the Autobot is ready for it. She ducks, letting her opponent shoot by her and into the surrounding trees.
The rapidly shifting energy signal made sense now. She should have known. Shouldn’t have let herself fall into such an obvious trap.
Elita’s brow furrows. If only she could find adequate cover, some way to outsmart the teleporting trickster. But as her gaze flicks around the clearing, it becomes glaringly obvious that she couldn’t make a dash for anywhere that Skywarp wouldn’t get to first.
That was just fine in Elita’s mind. If it was a fistfight the seeker wanted, then it was a fistfight she would get. After all, she didn’t train as hard as she did just to let a little close combat get the best of her.
For a moment, the forest is silent—not even a cricket dares to make a sound—and Elita’s nerves heighten. Her narrowed eyes comb over every shrub but there’s no sign of the black and purple jet anywhere.
“Skywarp!” She shouts, trying to draw her out from whatever shadow she was hiding in. “Why go through all this effort to lure me out here and then not get your licks in?”
“Oh, I’ll get my licks in!” Returns a disembodied voice. Elita spins to face the sound but regrets it as a powerful heel slams itself into the middle of her spine. She hits the dirt and turns over just in time to avoid a kick to the face.
“I’m just waiting for you to slip up.”
Elita lashes out, her fingers gaining purchase in the armor of Skywarp’s calves, using it to pull herself up and simultaneously bring her opponent down.
The seeker yelps and Elita keeps her grip, dragging her in circles before letting go and sending her careening into the middle of the clearing.
She stays down for only a few blissful seconds, then picks herself back up, rising to her full height.
In the moonlight, all Elita can see is the glow of Skywarp’s eyes and her widening Cheshire smile. It’s sadistic and self-satisfying, sending a shiver down the Autobot’s plating.
Now on opposite sides of the impromptu battlefield, the odds feel more balanced. They move in tandem, slowly bordering the clearing like two wrestlers sizing each other up.
Elita inches into the darkened shadow of trees, desperate for any kind of cover she can get, but Skywarp circles ever closer. Only one thing echoes in the chamber of her mind. One simple question:
Why?
The seeker had obviously planned this out, using meticulous effort to lay this trap just for her. She had taken advantage of Elita’s curiosity, goaded her into willingly entering a secluded location in the middle of the night when no one would be around to answer her call for backup.
With Skywarp only a lunge away, it finally dawns on her. This was about revenge. Pure and simple revenge.
Elita almost laughs.
“Did you ambush me because you’re still mad about our last encounter? Because I kicked your sorry backside?”
Skywarp rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You think this is about my pride?”
She throws a directionless punch, connecting only with the plating of Elita’s shoulder. “Do you really find me that self-absorbed?”
The Autobot drops to the ground, swinging a leg around and kicking Skywarp’s out from under her. Centimeters from the soil, she teleports and regains her footing.
“Well if it isn’t pride,” Elita huffs, dodging another attack. “Then what is it?”
Metal hits metal and Skywarp grunts. “A confession.”
Confusion slips over Elita’s features. She rolls the words over in her head again but still comes up blank. It had to be a Decepticon trick, something meant to distract her long enough to be bested.
So instead of letting Skywarp get the upper hand while she mulls over the nonsensical reply, Elita redoubles her efforts to incapacitate her. She throws blow after blow until the seeker loses enough speed for her to reach out and grab her by the scruff of the neck, pulling her into a standing headlock.
Skywarp claws at the offending elbow, sputtering, but can’t wrest herself free.
Now Elita could get some answers.
“A confession of what?” She demands, tightening her hold around Skywarp’s throat. “Another one of your many war crimes?”
There’s a burst of light and suddenly the space between Elita’s arms is empty. She moves quickly, but not quick enough to escape the seeker’s grip on her midsection as she appears behind her.
“So utterly oblivious. That’s what you Autoboobs can’t seem to understand,” Skywarp grunts, hoisting the thrashing woman into the air. With great effort she throws Elita over her shoulder in a devastating suplex, coming down hard on the unyielding earth.
The Autobot lands in all the wrong ways, her hands instinctively going to nurse the injuries on her neck and back with a groan.
The weight from under her disappears and moments later it’s almost sitting on her chest. She looks up at Skywarp’s shit-eating grin, unchanged despite the scrapes and bruises that now litter her face. It’s nauseating to look at.
“Flirting and fighting,” The seeker starts, tracing Elita’s strong jaw with a single slender finger. “It’s all the same.”
She leans in, leaving a perfect imprint of black lipstick on the very edge of Elita’s lips. It’s chaste– teasing. Elita growls, and something inside her snaps.
Taking advantage of Skywarp’s idle position, she pulls back one powerful arm and delivers a white-knuckled blow to her cheek. Almost in the very same spot she had been kissed.
Skywarp stumbles back and Elita takes the opportunity to scramble to her feet, wasting no time as she launches herself in the other woman’s direction, knocking her full force into a nearby tree.
She pulls her in, rough and close, smashing their lips together with enough strength to hurt.
Good.
It's a passion like neither has ever felt before. Like a roaring fire lapping at the space between their lithe metal bodies. Teeth and tongue and the taste of energon were the only things that mattered.
Primal urges triumph over logic. Their sparks turn wild and rebellious, completely entrenched in their taboo tryst.
When Elita finally pulls away, she does so with a firm grasp on Skywarp’s chin. There’s a dark look in her eyes as she smiles.
“I can multitask.”