Title: Hunting the hunter

By: Fianna9

Verse: G1/Bayverse AU

Prompt: the hunt

Characters: Jazz, Prowl, OCs

Warnings: macabre, Prowl/OC and implied Jazz/OC but it's not what it looks like I promise(!), strong hints of violence/death/cannibalism

Disclaimer: I don't own any version of Transformers. I don't know if I'd want to own this version.

Summary: Sometimes you go out hunting for a date…. Sometimes the date is hunting you.

A/N: Well, the original muse ran and hid when this monster showed up. Hopefully the new muse is satisfied.

Bold = sparkbond communication

"What blind fool stood up someone as lovely as you?"

The sitting figure twisted and looked up at the purple mech stepping closer. He raised his voice to be heard over the band. "What makes you to think I'm here to meet someone in particular?"

"A Praxian hanging out alone in this noise for more than three joor? You have to have one pit of an 'ache in your panels right now." With a chuckle the mech leaned against the bar blatantly running an appraising optic across the elegant blue and magenta sensory panels gracing the seated mech's back. He continued, "Name's Tracer. Let's go get a table. It'll be a little quieter back there, and you can keep a watch out for your friend."

After a momentary hesitation, the Praxian nodded slightly. "My designation's Barricade, and I'll accept your offer." Rising smoothly from the barstool, Barricade turned and headed for the tables at the back of the bar.

Following closely behind him, Tracer muttered, "Hopefully, you're friend's lose will be my gain."

"Perhaps."

Are you sure about this is the one, shiv?

Quite certain, now hush. He's definitely my type.

"I know you don't come here often, 'cause I'd remember seeing someone as hot as you. Where do you hang out?" Tracer leaned closer to Barricade and brushed a hand across his arm.

"I'm afraid I seldom frequent the same location." Barricade tipped his head slightly and a minuscule spark of amusement flickered across his face. "I find seeing the same faces all the time too repetitive."

"Well, my lucky day that you're here now."

"Likewise." A blue hand reached up to caress the silver stripe on Tracer's arm. "Why don't we go somewhere a little more…private."

"Lucky day indeed. You're place or mine." Tracer stepped up and pressed lightly against Barricade's chest.

"Mine." Twisting slightly to dance around Tracer, Barricade headed for the door. Finishing his cube, Tracer stumbled slightly as he followed.

Finally.

Patience will always be rewarded.

"No place like home, eh?" Tracer glanced around as he followed Barricade inside, admiring the view as he trailed after the Praxian. The small, one berthroom apartment was still sterile gray and drab. "So, how long have you lived here?" As he walked across the room, a black figurine resting partially hidden behind a pair of backless chairs in the corner of the room caught his eye. Before he could get a good look a glitter of red light diverted his gaze upward to a small crystal garden high on a shelf.

"Coming?"

Tracer's attention snapped back on Barricade as he stood invitingly in the doorway. Pressing Barricade against the wall, Tracer slid his glossa against the inviting neck cables. "Whenever your ready, gorgeous."

Twisting his head back with a moan from his companion, Barricade chuckled. "That way." Pulling Tracer around by the shoulders, he lightly guided the panting mech through the doorway towards the berth.

A searing pain wracked through Tracer's helm as blades ripped through his vocal processor strangling his scream into static. Another burst of static tore painfully through his throat as Barricade slammed into him, pinning the stunned mech to the floor. Disorientated by the pain of the sudden attack, Tracer tried to activate his comm, but only the telltale static of a jammer answered his cry for help.

Still stunned by the unexpected attack, Tracer began twisting and thrashing trying to throw Barricade off. Two gore covered silver hands grabbed Tracer's shoulders and the combined weight and leverage pinned him to the ground. Four clawed hands tore into his plating, spraying energon everywhere.

Struggling helplessly, Tracer stared up as a silver helm leaned across him to lick the pink energon splattered across Barricade's face. His confusion deepened into horror as the blue painted darkened to black and white gleamed out of the fading magenta. Glowing amber optics and an ice blue visor stared coldly down at him, reveling in his pain.

"Hungry, my darkness?" Pinned by the two monsters, Tracer watched in despair as two sets of razor teeth descend towards him.

Prowler, you always know how to pick 'em.

There was hardly any effort in this little chase; he did the work for me. Finish up. It's time to move on before we overstay our welcome.

Not like anybot will miss 'em. Their kind often wander off without mentioning it to anyone.

We can't cull the local population too much longer. The prey here won't stay blind forever. Best to depart before we're too memorable for next time, and we've acquired enough to cover any unexpected expenses.

As you wish, shiv. I know just where to head to next. Pickings are great right about now.

A lithe red and white mech strutted off the dance floor at Trancemeer, one of the hotter dance clubs in middle Iacon. Smiling, he cocked his head at a brown rotary mech leaning against the rail. "Hello, handsome. Buy you a drink?"

After a moment, the mech smiled sultrily, "Sure. Name's Brownout. Yours?"

Lights shimmered across the smaller frame as the gold visor flickered slightly. "Ricochet."

Walking side by side towards the bar, Ricochet reached up and began lightly tracing the seam across Brownout's shoulder. "So, what's a mech like you doing all alone in a place like this? And how can I fix that little problem?"

Dinner'll be coming over soon, shiv.

I'll be waiting, Jazz.

Prowl = shiv/Barricade (coloration from G1; frame Praxian).

Jazz = my darkness/Ricochet (coloration from SG; frame Bayverse Jazz).