(I seem to only ever do these around exams xD Bad Laura. Anyway, enjoy. Hopefully there aren't too many mistakes.)

G1 Aerialbots...buying a present

"What about this one?"

"Uh, no. He'd break it in about two minutes then we'd have the same problem again" Slingshot huffed, scrolling further down the page and almost falling forwards into Silverbolts lap as he tried to operate the computer.

Poking his helm into the Aerialbot commander's office, Skydive gave the squabbling threesome an odd look "Well... two questions. What in the pit are you guys doing and why does Fireflight look like he's about to burst into tears?"

"We, uh, accidentally broke one of his shiny things" Air Raid twitched a wing guiltily "We didn't mean to, honest, but it rolled off his shelf and smashed."

Skydive ran his servo over his helm absently "Get him paint, the nice stuff, and a canvas. He's been saving up for one for ages so..." he shrugged "couldn't hurt."

"Uh, right." The concord, currently playing furniture for two of his clingy gestalt mates (not that slingshot would ever admit to being clingy) sighed and clicked through a few more pages, evidently looking for the items skydive had suggested and wincing at the price.

"Um, Skydive?" Air Raid practically chirped from his position half in Silverbolt's lap.

"Yeah?"

The black and red jet gave Skydive a wolfish grin "Can we borrow your account?"

Optimus Prime & First Aid - utter confusion

It was amazing how well a mech without any visible facial features was able to convey confusion. It was also a little worrying when said confusion seemed to be directed at the large grill of his alt mode, currently being picked through with a tiny tool clutched in the junior medics hand.

"First Aid?" The Autobot commander rumbled worriedly, turning his helm to look for Ratchet but finding him still busy with the other injured. "Are you alright?"

"Ah, yes sir" The medic youngling seemed to snap of his confused trance, wiggling the tool around in the Primes numbed component as if trying to grab at something.

"There's just..." he trailed off, tugging hard on something caught in the grill and nearly falling backwards when it popped free. "How did you get a rubber chew toy in there?"

Cyclonus and Scourge- bedtime

(oh ffffff, damnit. not particularly familiar with them but here goes *cracks fingers... dispenses crack*)

"The mighty galvatron has ordered you to recharge" Cyclonus said, authoritative voice full of authority.

Scourge grumbled, as he was known to do, and glared at Cyclonus's rabbit ears. Mainly because they were more fun to look at than the other mechs optics.

"I do not wish to recharge" he grumbled again, crossing his arms over his chestplates and projecting an aura of unhappiness about the whole situation.

Cyclonus swooned, suddenly overcome by the other mechs forcefulness and strength of conviction. Oh how much like mighty Galvatron this mech was.

"Perhaps" he purred seductively "If I recharged with you"

Unable to resist the rabbit-eared charm, Scourge also swooned. Suddenly overcome with an overwhelming sense of TRUE LOVE.

They totally boned that night...

Motormaster/Silverbolt - Wat?

The fighting between the three gestalts stopped so abruptly that Slingshot didn't realize he was literally firing into the hill until Air raid nudged him in the abdomen.

The two grappling commanders staring at the middle of the battlefield in a state of confusion and just a little awe as the two smaller bots continued to roll around. Onslaught also seemingly transfixed from his position on top of a nearby hill, the rest of their two factions just out of sight on the other side of the ridge.

No one was really sure whether they were fighting anymore, especially with the confused and slightly aroused noises issuing from the 'copters vocaliser.

Silverbolt swore under his breath, cocking his helm to the side and laughing when Fireflight managed to pin Vortex face down in the dust in order to molest the rotors mounted on his back.

"What" Motormaster ground out, making an impressed noise at the sound the little jetling managed to wring out of his faction mate's vocaliser "is he doing?"

"Knew we should have left him at home" Silverbolt shrugged, moving the trucks helm with the motion due to the stranglehold he had around his neck "not like we expected you to cause trouble while we were out on a training mission though. Probably should have told Prime when he called us in."

He snorted, none of the rest of the three gestalts really worried about attacking one another any more as they watched the impromptu show being put on in front of them.

The concord thought he heard Air Raid yell something that sounded suspiciously like 'lick it' and, judging from the collective engine revs and subsequent yell from the pinned copter, Fireflight was all too happy to oblige.

"He's in heat" Silverbolt released the truck, happy with the fact no-one was interested with pounding each other into the ground any more "we have him on suppressants but he's always had a thing for rotors."

Motormaster nodded; slightly amazed that Fireflight was able to bend that way with all that bulky kibble in the way. "So... he's trying to frag him?"

"More or less" The aerialbot flicked his wings "Happens to all of us every now and then."

The decepticons engine purred quietly "So, if you like a mechs frame type you just..." he waved his hands, trying to illustrate the rather amusing manoeuvre Fireflight had pulled off in order to get the copter on the ground.

"Well yeah. I usually go for" Silverbolt gave Motormaster a sly grin "a sturdier frame Skydive is the odd one out. He goes for smarts rather than a specific alt."

The Stunticon grinned back "You like the big ones hmm?" he purred suggestively "Maybe I should hang around your flight path more often"

Silverbolt snorted in amusement, laughing loudly as his smaller gestalt mate started trying to drag his captive copter off into some underbrush.

"Maybe you will."

Air Raid+Skywarp - Can't touch this.

Skywarp found this fragging hilarious, so much so that he started to wonder why he hadn't tried it before.

Hovering in mid air as the little seeker wannabe, air something-or-other, snarled angrily at him and tried to catch the teleporter. Skywarp absently tossing the jetlings prized 'torsion rifle' in the air and grinning wolfishly.

"Heeey little jetling" he snickered, tossing the weapon and catching it before repeating "want something?"

He laughed loudly, teleporting out of the way at the last minute as the enraged aerial tried to ram him again.

Once again, this was waaaay too fun.

(Continuation)

Yep, way too fun a game to play by ones self actually. The purple seeker snickered, teleporting close to his snarky trine mate and tossing him the rifle.

Starscream fumbled with it for a moment, giving Skywarp a confused look as he peered at the rifle now in his hands. Obviously not understanding that they were playing the best game ever because only a few seconds later and angry black blur practically collided with him.

The air commander dropped the prize and flailed as he tried to remain balance. Air raid simply swooped down, reclaiming his rifle and shouting something unintelligible at the pair before streaking off.

... Stupid Starscream, always ruining his fun…

Prowl and Fireflight - mimics~

It wasn't often that the chevroned mech worked in the rec room, often choosing to hole himself up in his office whenever there was paperwork to do instead.

Today, however, Prowl found himself sitting at one of the many tables dotted around the room specifically put aside for the use of the crew during their off hours. He wasn't even working for once, the datapad he was absently tapping through purely for entertainment purposes.

While he rarely chose to spend his free time around the rest of the crew it wasn't necessarily notable, especially after several thousand years of working together, so the strange, prickling sensation of being watched was quite disconcerting.

Slowly swivelling his helm to the side, Prowl spotted a pair of wide blue optics and two wings poking out from behind a chair on the opposite side of the room.

Of course, this would have to be the first time the young mechs had seen him relaxing with the rest of the crew. In fact, he was quite sure they hadn't even had a chance to meet all of the mechs on board the ark yet.

What was strangest though was that the jetling didn't seem to actually be looking at him. The phantoms optics seemingly locked on a point somewhere over his shoulders, little wings twitching and flicking in that odd way all of the aerialbots did when they were together.

Blinking over his shoulder, Prowl was met with nothing but the tip of a twitching doorwing and the wall behind him... oh...

He smiled to himself, pretending to go back to his book as he observed the curious jets reaction. Twitching his wing deliberately and barely suppressing a chuckle when Fireflight repeated the motion, ailerons needing to wiggle backwards due to the jets slightly limited range of movement.

This continued for several minutes, the doorwinged tactician twitching out more and more complicated movements just so he could watch the jet try and repeat them.

Eventually he closed his bookfile, linking up to Teletran's database and downloading a copy of simple Vossian wing movements from before the war. Laughing out loud when Fireflight squeaked in surprise at the poorly pronounced ~hello, Fireflight~ he wiggled out, the jetling flicking and wriggling his wings furiously in an enthusiastic reply that the second in command wasn't quite able to catch all of.

Soon enough, Fireflight was distracted from his game of 'talk to Prowl' when one of his gestalt mates offered to go flying with him, leaving the thoroughly amused Praxun to his book and the quiet of a mid-shift rec room.

Metroplex/Slingshot - On the run

To be fair, it was probably a stupid idea to try and hide from the city. Mostly because hiding from a mech you were literally inside was an exercise in futility.

Moving their little game of hide-and-seek outside had just created a whole new set of problems. The little car drone almost having a nervous breakdown when searching for the hiding jet had led him out of line of sight of Metroplex.

Asking Sixgun why Scamper had freaked out so badly, the larger drone holding the still shaking maintenance model to his chest, had just gained the jet a sad look and a shake of his helm.

Cornering Scamper later, in one of the numerous out of repair halls scattered throughout the city, had ended with the car drone escaping down one of the ventilation shafts and hiding until Slammer had managed to coax him out. Slingshots interest in the reason for Scampers reluctance to open up only increasing.

Even directly contacting Metroplex through one of his private comms proved decidedly unhelpful. The ancient city-former changing the subject rather quickly after mumbling about something that happened a long time ago.

Grumbling loudly, the visored aerialbot had locked himself in his quarters. Thumbing absently through Teletran's database about Cybertron before the war an old news feed had caught his optic.

Just before the factions now known as 'decepticon' and 'autobot' had officially formed there had been several low-key squabbles over the occupancy of the few remaining city-mechs.

Kidnappings of the city occupants had become commonplace over next several vorn. The most notable of which supposedly being when a subgroup, hoping to force the city into allowing them residence, had accidentally taken one of the city drones.

This had apparently not gone over very well with the mech in question, the city having forcefully ejected all residents and locking its doors. Demanding the return of the drone and refusing to re-open any of the communication channels they were tasked with maintaining, eventually forcing the enforcers to step in and hunt down to group in question.

Slingshot winced, skimming through the rest of the article mostly describing the drones return, though it was not in a very good condition when it was.

After the event the city former had apparently become rather selective about the mechs he allowed to reside within his walls.

The aerialbot sighed, flopping his forearm over his visor and letting the pad flop onto the berth. It was easy enough to work out who the drone in question was, now it was just a matter of helping the drone stop running from his past.

Ratchet & First Aid - sore hands

Being a medic could often be quite a painful profession. Sometimes First Aid questioned the intelligence of placing so many highly sensitive nodes onto the one component most likely to get damaged during a repair.

Molten metal, electrical shorts, moving parts and, if they weren't careful, their own tools would often manage to do cause pain during the course of even small repairs.

Most didn't realize that this was often the source of some of Ratchets more spectacular rants. One could judge ahead of time with some accuracy, if you looked close enough, just how much yelling and tool throwing would be involved by the condition of the red paint covering the senior medics fingertips.

The most notable explosion of the CMO's temper had been caused when, after several long hours of working and finally getting the bay clear of injured, a careless Sunstreaker had entered complaining of some minor dent or scratch.

No one quite remembered which it was because, several seconds after entering, the yellow mech had found himself quite literally tossed onto his aft in the hall outside and yelled at for a good half an hour. Ratchets fingertips almost completely gray as he listed almost every one of the frontliners multiple character flaws in between insults directed at his ancestors seemingly all the way back to Primus himself.

Even the gentle junior medic was not immune to having a temper at times like this, though he was not one the yell or cause a fuss in any visible way. His brothers often coming to comfort him once the calm, smooth energy that represented First Aid became a buzzing ball of quiet displeasure.

It was these times that you would often see either Groove or Streetwise practically attached to First Aids hip. The small brothers holding onto the little medics hand and trying to massage away the hurt with gently fingers and kisses.

Luckily for the pair of them there was at least one other mech on board who knew just how finicky a medics hands could be. Wheeljack always seeming to hang around the medbay when he caught the signs that heralded grumpy medics.

Neither of the medically programmed mechs had been able or willing to turn down a quick repair or massage from exuberant engineer yet.

Hot Spot/Silverbolt - Coming of age.

"Oh shut up and help me."

Silverbolt laughed, attempting to muffle the sound behind his hand as he dragged a table under the trapped protectobot. Planting himself on top he tugged on the strip of material obscuring Hot Spots optics.

"It is pretty funny though." he snickered, moving to examine the loops of energon cable securing his friend to the rafters by the ladder attached to his back.

"How in the pit did they get you up there anyway?" he coughed, once again trying to cover up a laugh.

"You jets have it lucky" Hot Spot grumbled "when you reach maturity Ratchet just locks you in a room so you don't molest everyone in the vicinity"

The concord snorted, tugging experimentally on one of the cables "You didn't answer my question you know."

The protectobot commander sighed "Ironhide, Prime an Skyfire were required" he wriggled "I'd prefer not to go into details..."

Starscream/Skyfire- How do you know you won't like it if you don't try it?

Skyfire blinked slowly at the other scientist, utterly confused as to what the seeker was doing and not sure as to whether he wanted to know or not.

"Uh... Starscream?" the shuttle shuffled nervously, peering over the dividing wall of tubes and beakers lining the bench "Why... what are you eating?"

Starscream shrugged, twisting the rock sample around in his hands before offering it to his partner.

"It tastes pretty good" he grinned, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand "must have some trace metals in it or something."

Skyfire gave the rock an odd look, carefully holding it between his thumb and index finger as he scanned it. "Are you sure this is even safe to ingest?"

The seeker shrugged "We'll find out later, won't we. Just make sure there's a medic handy in case I keel over"

Jazz - dropping the cards

Jazz made an odd, garbled noise of panic. Sliding on his roof along the road before slamming into the wall of a store.

Humans screaming and fleeing in every direction as the enormous triple changer transformed and landed heavily at the other end of the street. Astrotrain shaking the rain off of his armor before stalking towards the flailing silver solstice.

The Primes third in command transforming on his back with the sound of grinding gears and half aborted movements before he was fully in his mech mode half under some of the stores shelves.

"Hello there little mech" Astrotrain rumbled, snagging one of the saboteurs pedes and attempting to drag him out into the open.

The smaller Autobot yelped, wrapping his claws around a nearby box and hurling it at the triple changers helm. Astrotrain flinched in surprise, losing his grip on the little mech as bits of cardboard and paper exploded out of the container and found their way into gaps in his armour.

Jazz laughing and scrambling out of Astrotrain's reach before unleashing a barrage of shots across his chest. The winged decepticon roaring and toppling backwards into the street as he tried, and failed, to fend off both Jazz's attack and the tiny paper cards at the same time.

(blaaaaaargh, can't think of anything else for this one…)