It had been so long since the last major heat cycle, Optimus had almost forgotten about it. In fact, he definitely would have if Teletrann 1 had not sent him an alert. Heat cycle begins in thirteen breems. He vented. His last one was spent with Elita on the planet Cyradon. It was nice, the peace that ensued between the two factions. He quickly asked Teletrann how many this one would effect and how long it would last. The answers dumbfounded him. A full three months Earth time? Ninety percent of his troops?

He wondered what he would do this time, if he was affected; Elita was gone now. He shook the thought from his proccessor. His troops were of the upmost importance now.

"Teletrann, send an alert to all Autobot troops. There is to be no fighting for the next three months. The Heat is on it's way."

The supercomputer sent the message as he started typing his own to Megatron.

'Megatron, I am sure your medic's have alerted you to the impending mass Heat. Due to the large crippling of both of our armies, I propose a truce to last 3 Earth months in which neither party may attack unless for self-defense.'

The reply was recieved moments later, written stiffly and obviously by someone other than Megatron. Optimus sighed. Trouble was going to ensue.

OoOoO

Temperature was rarely felt by Cybertronians, only in the very extreme where it could become harmful. So when Arcee felt cold, she immediatly woke up. Her frame clattered as it attempted to warm itself up, though her intenal instruments said that the room was a warm seventy degrees. She shouldn't be feeling cold. Other alerts began to appear in her processor, ones that she knew were obviously wrong.

Gravity too weak to manintain optimal energon flow. Wrong, she thought. All comrades offlined in mass effect event. Wrong, she frowned. Messasge from Carrier. Very wrong. Her tank began to ache in a way that was very strange to her. Not an ache of a virus, or one of insufficent fueling. It clicked. She was in heat. The strange aching began to grow, the pain somehow desirable and painful at the same time. She mewed and struggled to get it under control.

Arcee was concentrating so hard, she nearly fell off the berth when someone knocked loudly on her door.

She stood up and took a moment to steady herself before unlocking the door. Firestar stood behind it, one servo primed to knock again. She dropped her red servo to her side and blushed, energon racing to her fingertips and tinting them purple. Arcee's tank started to ache less as she moved to let her in. The door slid shut with a subtle click behing them.

"I'm so sorry Commander, for intruding on you like this." She vented, wobbling unsteadily on her pedes. The warm air tickled her as her frame released it. It carried the scent of her with it, embedding itself into sensory detectors. It surprised Arcee that she could tell so much from a sense she rarely used otherwise. For example, it very obvious that Firestar was untouched and that this was her first Heat. It was also obvious that she felt some attraction towards Arcee as well.

"It's fine, Firestar. You can cut the formalities. We are friends after all." She said, concentrating in ignoring the effects of her own Heat. She motioned for Fire to sit down.

Firestar met Arcee's eyes, blue optics tinged with a pulsing white. It was primal look, but undoubtedly innocent. "I feel sick. Well, not sick exactly, but weird. Not in a bad way either, but I've never flet this way before and when I tried to ask anyone else for an explanation, they were all gone or busy." She looked confused as she watched her crimson servos shake.

Arcee put a single digit underneath her chin and pulled her faceplates upwards to meet her own. At first, Firestar didn't react at all. Then she came to in a blur. Arcee placed one servo on the small of her backstrut, pulling her closer as the younger femme began to kiss hungerily, eager for something she had never known before now.

Arcee pulled back slightly before leaning back in lower than before to nibble on the red sharpshooter's sensitive neck wiring. Their lips met again briefly, roughly, before separating and moving on to other targets.

Fire seemed to be preoccupied with Arcee's breastplates. She strumbed the extended nodes before gingerly squeezing them. Arcee let out a squeak, pausing in her exploration of the red femme's neck. She used one servo to support them as the other massaged the space between them, where their pelvis' met. The sharpshooter gasped, backstrut arching.

Arcee took this opportunity to gently pry her mouth open and allowing her glossa to explore to adjacent mouth. Firestar's danced with hers before separating. The young femme tasted like chromium; She wondered what she tasted like. With a subtle and wet click, Fire's port was open. A highly pressure burst of fluid squirted at her as she laid her gently on the berth. She slid down to valve level, ready to erase the regretful look on the young femme's faceplates. Arcee's glossa glided over the hard data nub, enjoying the taste of her internal energon.

In a Stanix dialect, Firestar moaned Arcee's name weakly. Her frame stiffened as Arcee forced her digits in. She cried out at the breaking of her seal, but her pain quickly gave way to moans of pleasure. After a few thrusts, Firestae overloaded. Arcee leaned away, expecting Firestar to be offline for at least a breem. Instead, she onlined only a few moments after. She seemed more at ease now, Arcee thought, as the other femme pulled her down into an intimate embrace. As she once again played with her breastplates, examining them, seeming to commit them to memory, Arcee purred. In a sudden movemnt that she didn't catch, Arcee found herself beneath the firey femme who surprisingly had the gall to jamm in three fingers without any hesitation. She continued to nip and bite at the wires in her neck, as she moved her servo in and out at an irregular pace.

Arcee's proccessor overloaded, her mind going black. When she onlined again, the fire-colored femme was asleep, curled against her side. Arcee smiled faintly and pulled her closer, falling asleep in the heat of a frame next to her own.

OoOoO

Soundwave was a quiet mech on normal days, but when he was in heat he was positively silent. On one servo, Strika thought, the silence of a mech on a ship full of gloaters was nice. On the other servo, it was impossible to determine if he liked her.

Strika knew the hierarchy of the ship changed during Heat. Though she was a respected officer, it wouldn't be enough to keep her from becoming a frag toy for the rest of the ship. She knew well that if she wanted to be safe, she had to be claimed by someone strong. She needed to find somebot who no one would mess with. The other femmes had already taken their pick and disappeared for the rest of the duration of Heat. The only two she knew of that were alone were Soundwave and Shockwave. While they were both quite handsome, she would prefer the company of Sounwave; he wasn't so intimidating.

Strika walked deeper into the ship, passing the lower troop's hall. The sounds of fragging were not stopped by the flimsy doors. She took a lift to the officer's hall, which was considerabky more quiet. She stopped in front of Soundwave's door and raised her servo to the door. She froze before she could knock. What if he had a preferance for mechs? Then what? He was one of the few mechs that still treated femmes like they were treated on Cybertron: with respect. Would she lose that respect by trying to seduce him? She raised her servo again, determined to knock. Before she could move, the door slid open with a quiet sigh.

Soundwave gazed down at her lazily, his visor hiding any emotion he might be having. He stepped back. She walked inside after him, watching as he took a seat on the berth. Strika looked around the room. There was no where else to sit but beside him. Her fingertips blushed with giddiness.

"Do you want some high grade? I stole some from the Autobot twins." She hoped that he offer of the legendary brew would lower his inhibitions, if he had any. Again, it was near impossible to tell how he was feeling regarding her. She wondered what the pit she was doing.

He nodded slowly and extended a servo. Strika handed him a cube, digits brusing against his. Her spark shifted towards him and she gasped, spilling it all over his frame.

Her face flushed with livid embaressment. She muttered, "Sorry. I-I'll go." as she stood to leave. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back down roughly. She was so surprised, she didn't react.

He motioned towards the energon, still dripping down his frame, slow and thick. Gingerly, she extended her glossa to lick the mess off of his chest. He shivered as she sunk lower, finally stopping at his erect spike. She wrapped her mouth around it, her glossa rubbing the raised and plated edges.

"All clean, hmm?" She said as she wiped her mouth.

Strika sat down beside him again, waiting for a reaction. The room fell silent execpt for her own vents cycling.

Suddenly he pressed against her, knocking her to the berth. Her helm stung slightly from the impact, but it was easily ignored as he roughly jammed himself into her. She cried out at the sudden intrusion. He paused for a moment as she got used to the feeling. It was so awkward being the only one who was making noise; It wasn't enough time for her to figure out how to be silent. He lowered his helm to her neck and nipped the sensitive cabling, glowing a dull blue from the the sudden rise of energon pressure. He moved back and forth to a steady rhythm at the same time, causing her to lose any notion of composure.

She moaned lowly, the sound echoing in the small room. Soundwave seemed to enjoy it, if the speed increase was to indicate anything. It hurt, even as it felt good making it hard to keep her moans from becoming screams. As she started to overload, a climax of energy built inside. The pressure of the energon inside her valve reached maximum levels and she released the fluids. As they mixed with Soundwave's, he stopped and pulled out with a lewd pop.

Strika vented, cycling air furiously as he picked her up. She could feel his spark through his chestplates. She imagined it reaching out for hers. He set her down gently on the bathroom floor and allowed her a moment to stand before turning the water on. It quickly heated up to a noticeable temperature, and she sighed. Her frame was still uber sensitve, and each droplet of water felt like a carress.

Strika didn't move as he disappeared behind her. Was he leaving? Did Soundwave think she did poorly? Was it over already? She'd expected something more intense form- Her thougths stopped aruptly when she felt a sudden intrusion to her back port. After adjusting so that they both could stand comfortably against the spray, he wrapped his arms around her and started nipping at her neck. The combination of pleasure coming from litterally all sides had her frame seizing, wanting something to move inside her. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to, she decided that she would do the moving, and Primus did it feel good. He sent vibrations through her body from his spike, causing her port to lubricate itself even more.

Her energon spilled again, splashing onto the ground with nobot to catch it. The water pressure began to lessen as Soundwave's frame tightened and a cool liquid was injected into her back port. They took a moment to cycle their vents before separating. As Soundwave washed her frame clean and she did the same, she managed to ask aloud.

"Does-does this mean you'll claim me?"

He paused and met her optics, a gleam of his own showing through his visor. He leaned his helm into the crook of her neck, and finally replied.

"Soundwave: already did. Strika: mine now." She smiled and shuttered her optics. She had gotten him to speak for her, had even decided to claim her as his own. Strika had gotten her