I've been assembling IKEA things for the past few days. It seems every day, I take another trip to that store for dad's girlfriend. Sure it's fun assembling them, but after a while…

Honestly, this story is mostly for Dre. Because we love shinanigans…

I wanted a Starscream story that was more light-hearted….

And you should all thank SUSINKO for Beta-ing!

IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE:

This is an entirely human universe they're walking around in. No one was turned into a human. There are no giant transforming robots in this story. Sorry D:

---(9:32 p.m., Aperture Apartments, Apt. No. 27)---

It's going well. I'll be settled by tomorrow.

Yep, that was what he'd said four hours ago. He'd made an estimate that by tomorrow, this whole apartment would have its basic amenities, and would look completely unsuspicious as a safe-house, meeting place, check-in bureau, and his own position of operations in this city. It was a big assignment, but he'd been confident in his abilities.

Until the IKEA furniture had arrived.

Tidal Wave had arrived with the large cardboard boxes, one under each arm, and had handed them to Starscream at the door. What he'd failed to mention, was that the boxes were about 100 pounds each. Unprepared, Starscream had nearly been crushed at the sudden weight that was deposited in his arms.

At the moment, he had assembled the eight-drawer dresser, the kitchen table, the coffee-table, and a night stand. He had two more dressers to assemble in the living-area, a desk, and he would be getting IKEA chairs plus couch tomorrow, with Demolisher to assist and inspect the rooms.

But that was in the future, what was right now, was the bed. And he'd kill just to get the damn thing assembled.

But there was a drawback. In manufacturing, two of the holes had been mis-threaded, so the posts would not screw into place. On top of that, this bed did not come with a language-not-needed instruction guide, so he'd spent a while just trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do from the tiny picture on the side of the box. He'd already fought with the bed for about half an hour before realizing it couldn't be assembled.

He didn't have the power tools to rethread the thing (and teach it a lesson).

He didn't have a car to drive to the IKEA store and ask for a new one (Demolisher would arrive with his car tomorrow).

The IKEA store was closed anyway, along with its help over the phone.

He also didn't have a map of the area, and discovered his laptop and desktop had not been brought with him. Actually, the clothes that had been packed made no sense what so ever. But at least they were all very wear-able without making him look like a deranged freak.

He knew he should have taken the time to pack his own things. Never leave anything specific or delicate in the hands of Cyclonus. It was a miracle he didn't find a… dead bird or something with the random jumble of items he'd been packed.

At the very least, Starscream had packed his cane-sword and sword-umbrella. The sword-umbrella was currently next to the door, to be used in case of any uninvited guests. Quiet, deadly, didn't run out of bullets.

With everyone else it was just 'guns guns guns'. And Starscream kept guns too, but his cane-sword was always his choice weapon. A much larger custom sword was hiding in his closet, but it wasn't terribly portable in public places. When there was a planned strike though, he brought that thing with…

And it had been used many times. He'd killed many people for Megatron, privately and in assistance from others. From killing on guard-dog duty, to stabbing people in a crowd, he'd killed people. He'd dodged bullets, been shot, been cut, punched, and even electrocuted once. At his young age of 25, he felt like he'd faced every hardship and challenge there was.

And then the fucking IKEA bed came into his life. The thing that refused to work, and couldn't be 'persuaded' without proper tools. He was supposed to be low profile, so he couldn't throw it out the window either.

Finally he just kicked the half-assembled bed frame and walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water.

But there were no cups, because this was a new apartment. There were no plates or dishes either. All of those vital, small detail amenities had been forgotten, or were written off as 'will get later'.

So what did he have? Lots of cardboard; Foam strips from the IKEA packages; Paper booklets of instructions; About five-hundred dollars in cash; Clothes; Cell phone; IKEA furniture; Half of an IKEA bed; A mattress; Three swords and two hand guns; Ammunition for the hand guns. At least he'd already eaten, because there was no food in the fridge- oh, right. He didn't have a fridge yet either.

Did he pack any sheets or blankets?

Starscream didn't even need to check to answer that one. NO. Of course not. He'd NEVER done a full move before. So far from everyone else, he was supposed to be an extension of Megatron's power, to grow and give the Decepticons power in this city. He'd proven himself deadly, effective, and very intelligent. He was supposed to be on equal standing with Shockwave and Soundwave now (in theory), and carry out Megatron's will from three states away.

So WHY was he already wobbling on his new away-from-home legs? He'd gone to other cities and safe houses before!

A sudden knock on the door jerked Starscream out of his thoughts (he would NEVER admit he'd been panicking). He looked back to observe that the apartment was a mess of IKEA packaging material and unmoved furniture.

Curse Megatron and his cheap, IKEA shopping ways!

"Just a minute!" He called, though it sounded more like an angry yell that could be followed by flying objects.

Starscream scrambled to push the dresser against the wall, pick up the night stand and move it into the bedroom, and move the kitchen table into the kitchen. By the time he shooed the cardboard and foam bits into the hallway leading to the bedroom, whoever was at the door was knocking again. And WHY didn't his door have a peep-hole?

With one hand on the umbrella, he unlocked and opened the door slowly. The first thing he saw was a police badge. Complete with that red face stamped in the center of it. Next he saw a red-head with swept back hair and golden eyes. Said red-head was very tall, and smiling amiably.

Starscream looked up in barely suppressed horror. Oh. My. God.

"Hey there, I saw that this apartment's 'for sale' sign was no longer up. I'm off duty now, so I was wondering if you needed any help." The tone of his voice suggested 'greatest guy in the world', and the smile helped to complete the picture of the perfect police officer.

Starscream was on the cusp of slamming the door shut and calling Demolisher to say that the safe house was compromised. But through some kind of inner strength pulling through, he didn't.

It took him a few seconds to stop staring and wipe the wide-eyed look off his face though, and he covered the transition with a slight cough. Very smooth.

"Do you know of any place that sells power tools?" If he just approached this like a normal civilian, he could get out of it…

"Oh sure! No place that's open right now, but I've got some back in my apartment. Here, I'll help ya get what you need." And in one mind-boggling move, Starscream was pulled out of his apartment and down the hall, feeling like an unwilling sacrifice to some unknown god, and that as soon as he reached the officer's apartment door, he was going to be pushed into a pit of lava. The part of him concerned with security screamed and ran for cover, patting himself desperately for his cell phone because he generally didn't carry his sword while assembling IKEA furniture (although he was thinking that now he should).

How were they supposed to do their evil things with a police officer living a few doors down?!

"Right here, just wait a sec," the officer fumbled for his keys a bit, letting go of Starscream's wrist as he searched. The first thing that went through Starscream's mind was a diagram. A little IKEA styled diagram and instruction booklet. The items required would be the officer's keys, handcuffs, and a cell phone. First, it instructed where to strike the officer in order to induce unconsciousness. Step two involved opening the policeman's door and dragging the body in (it recommended having help from another person). Step three involved removing the officer's handcuffs and handcuffing him to some sort of sturdy, heavy object (probably a bed), before tossing the handcuff keys in the trash, along with his other apartment keys. Step four detailed locking the apartment door and running back to his own apartment to call Megatron and tell him to kill who ever scouted this apartment, because there was a police officer living four doors down the hall!!!

As it stood, there was a mini-Starscream in his head that yelled 'FREEDOM!', while Starscream's eyes locked onto the officer's gun, magazines, and handcuff pouch. Then the door opened, and Starscream was pulled inside. The place was a ridiculous mess. You honestly had to TRY in order to get things this messy.

"Err… sorry it's a bit messy. Hang on, the power tools are around here… somewhere…" the police officer stepped over some spilled books that looked glossy and brand new (and never read), before stumbling a little on a pile of laundry while making his way to the hallway closet. Starscream was at least thankful that the room seemed… sticky-free. It was just a lot of objects all over the room, no spilled food or anything. To Starscream, the messy living space translated as sloppy habits, which made the policeman less threatening. And then the questions started, "So, you just out of college or something? You looked scared out of your mind when you opened that door. First time on your own?" a sweater got tossed over his back and onto the floor. Starscream was unsure how to respond. Lie? Or tell a bunch of half-truths so he could remember them easily?

"Uh… yeah. How'd you know?" No, Starscream never went to college. He got involved in gang activity instead.

"Oh- you had that kinda look about ya. Must've gone to a college close to home, because I think this is your first time away from it. What was your major?" the officer stood up and lifted a tool box with him, turning around and kicking the closet door shut with his heel. Starscream stood close to the door, feeling torn between creating a new (legal) identity, and just fleeing the apartment.

He wasn't trained for this! He was used to being a shadow! Come in, kill people/make a deal for Megatron, and then leave!

"Eh… BA in science." Starscream put his hands in his pocket, stepping out of the apartment and turning around as the officer approached with the newly found tool box. Quick! What did he know about science majors?!

"Science? What do you want to be?" The man moved around Starscream to walk next to him as they made their way back to his apartment. Starscream walked faster,

"Chemist." He practically darted back into the apartment, walking swiftly into his bedroom and quelling the urge to hide behind the wall in an ambush. Luckily, the officer's current line of conversation was switched when he saw the half-made bed.

"What's wrong with it?" He crouched next to the bed rack (abomination) and set the toolbox next to him. Starscream found that standing against the wall (behind the officer) made himself feel a lot safer,

"Those two holes are mis-threaded. They need to be rethreaded in order for the posts to screw into it." Starscream maintained position, glancing to the doorway and seeing his cane sword next to it. Just leaning innocently against the wall.

"Ah, that's a pretty easy fix." He took a seat in order to better access the bedposts. Then he began working. It simply involved better leverage on the part of the post, and it would forcefully rethread the hole. After observing this, Starscream felt a little antsy. He could easily do that, and he wouldn't need help.

"I can do that. Give me another wrench." He approached the officer after a moment of thought, deciding he wanted the man out of his apartment as soon as possible. But now, he was waved away.

"Naw, I can handle this. Consider it a welcoming gift, ehhhh….? What's your name?" The policeman continued working, but after a longer-than-it-should-take-to-remember-your-own-name silence, he turned. Starscream was contemplating the cane sword in the back of his mind, and was going between the weapon, telling the truth, or making something up.

"… It's Starscream."

"Ah. Well I'm Jetfire. Ya don't have to call me officer or anything. But I am a lieutenant." He turned back to the project at hand, putting extra emphasis on his title. Well, he didn't have a confidence issue.

One post was threaded in and put into place. Then he started on the next one, determined to talk,

"You sure you don't need more help than just this? I saw some unopened boxes out there in your living room."

"Yes, I'm very sure."

"What about the rest of your stuff? This place is still pretty empty looking."

"My uh… uncle… Demolisher will be coming tomorrow with everything else."

"That's good. You find a job yet?"

"No, not yet. I'm sure something will come up though."

"Naw, you gotta look for your jobs. Stuff doesn't just 'come up'."

"Uh… right… I'll keep that in mind."

There was another bout of silence that reigned over them. Starscream picked up the small graphic image of the bed to check what it looked like, and what was almost built. It was nearly complete, just four more screws after the officer was done.

"It's getting pretty late, don't you think you need just a little help to finish those things out there?"

"I can do it myself."

"Do you want to borrow my tools until you're done?"

"I already have everything I need."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." Good grief, what would it take to get this officer out of here? A fire?

"All righty then! You now have a bed. Or, almost. Hang on…" He spotted the empty holes and left over screws, reaching over to finish the project. Starscream had had enough though.

"No. No. You're done, I can finish the rest." He bent down and started repacking the man's… Jetfire's tool box, maneuvering around the larger's arms and hands to put away everything and close the lid with a final 'snap!', despite the man's protests.

"I can finish it, really."

"No, I'll do it. You've got… things to do I'm sure. Need to get up early tomorrow for work. I can handle things on my own now." Starscream grabbed under the man's arm and pulled, only managing to actually get him up when he stood on his own.

"Okay okay. Don't want to get in the way of your independence or anything." Jetfire took his sweet time getting up, dusting his uniform off and picking up the box of tools. Starscream actually got behind him and pushed to hurry him along. It seemed the action surprised the officer at first, and then he found it amusing, having gone quickly the first few steps before putting on the breaks to slow down.

"Look look, you've got four more things to assemble." He pointed to the four boxes as they entered the living room, Starscream struggling to push the good Samaritan out of his apartment.

"No, it's just two. They're just-nng, in four boxes."

"Wow, still looks like a lot of work though." Jetfire tacked a slight chuckle onto the end of his statement, clearly finding the situation amusing.

"I can handle it!! Go- go do something else!" They'd finally gotten to the door, and it seemed like Jetfire was just laying limp against Starscream's efforts. Starscream's eyes caught the umbrella next to the door.

"Fine fine. I'll see you around then, eh?" Jetfire finally seemed to walk on his own two feet, making Starscream stumble a little before regaining balance. The officer stood outside the door, smiling and sweeping back some hair that had gotten into his face. Starscream glared at him and slammed the door shut, locking it with an audible 'click!'

He leaned his back against it and breathed a deep sigh of relief, thinking about what he'd do next. He'd make a list of things this apartment needed (like the peephole, to avoid opening the door for Jetfire), and he'd talk to Megatron about his current situation. He'd have done the former first, but he had no paper or pencil (or pen), so he took out his cell phone instead.

This new apartment wasn't worth having a dead police officer nearby. It would draw waaaaaay too much attention.

---(TBC?)---

Idea inspired by Demyrie's story 'Odd Couple'