Woah my first Transformers drabble :)

Knock Out's free time was few and far between. That being said he hated wasting this precious time struggling to polish particular sections of his backstrut he couldn't seem to reach, no matter what way he angled the buffer. Oh Breakdown could reach them no problem.

But Breakdown was gone. And Knock Out hated being reminded of that fact. He needed a solution. Or more specifically a substitute. Some bot to reach the places he couldn't.

A Vehicon perhaps. As subordinates they couldn't refuse the order. But then, did he really want to place his best asset in the care of a drone? No, scratch Vehicon off the list.

Soundwave, he thought next. He could probably talk the silent mech into the task. But then Soundwave's hands were flimsy looking things and Knock Out didn't like the idea of those tentacles.

Knock Out didn't dare ask Megatron to help him out. Not if he wanted claw dents in his backstrut (and other areas) for his impudence.

That left Starscream.

Knock Out vented a sigh as he made his way towards the Seeker's quarters. The jet greeted him with the usual glare,

"What?"

Knock Out held up his buffer,

"Could you polish my back?"

Starscream gave a derisive laugh, the kind Knock Out had expected. Then he crossed his arms, staring at disdainfully at the medic.

"What makes you think I'd agree to that?"

Knock Out had anticipated this question.

"You buff my back, I'll buff yours."

Starscream sneered,

"Unlike you Knock Out. I'm fully capable of cleaning myself."

"Are you sure? To be honest your plating's looking a little dull."

Starscream looked down at himself critically. Then up at Knock Out, decidedly unamused.

"You're mistaken Doctor," he said coldly, "My armor is no less than it's usual standard."

"Not at the back," Knock Out said, "Though it is hard for you to see. Unless you spend time observing it in the mirror."

He was reasonably sure Starscream was the type to do so. Not that the preening Seeker would admit it. Knock Out held back a laugh as Starscream swiveled in a comical attempt to look behind him. He gave up after a while, facing Knock Out with gritted denta.

"Very well," he jerked his helm, "My quarters."

Knock Out followed him inside with a smirk.

"You will attend to me first," Starscream ordered.

Knock Out shook his helm,

"I asked you first," he affected a careless shrug, "If that's a problem I can always take my buffer elsewhere."

Starscream wasn't to know that was a bluff.

"Fine, fine," he grouched, snatching the buffer from Knock Out's servo.

Knock Out offered his backstrut to Starscream with a happy vent. The whir of the buffer mostly muted Starscream's grumbling as he went about the task. For good measure Knock Out off-lined his audial feed.

All he could feel was the massaging sensations of the buffer. And since he could no longer hear or see Starscream, it was very easy, horribly easy to replace him in his mind with Breakdown.

As a doctor he couldn't say it was healthy. But as someone who had lost a partner, it was a way of coping.