This is kind of a continuation/prequel to an Epps/Starscream oneshot I put up a while ago that was inspired by the almighty Pairing Generator. There were requests for more. Here is my feeble attempt to please. The rating is high PG-13/T because of Epps' foul mouth. Other than that, no warnings. Save, y'know, the implied jet/human relationship… XD

And I don't own. Duh. grumblemutter Foul humans, making me do disclaimers...

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It was the best bar in the small town near the base, and therefore where all of the off-duty soldiers hung out. Raucous laughter could be heard within as one approached, the lights of the sign above the door giving an occasional flicker. It was in this bar that Sergeant Robert Epps found himself, swirling a small glass of golden liquid around and around, staring at the liquor rather vacantly.

"Yo Rob!" Lieutenant Bryan Welman, one of Epps' old friends, sauntered over, swaying only slightly as he slid into the seat next to Epps and threw an arm over his shoulder. "What's getting' ya down? You're supposed to come here to relax! Now pardon me if this is incorrect, but you don't look too relaxed. Or happy either. What's up?"

Epps sighed as he set down the glass. "I guess my life's just been a little crazy…ever since Soccent…"

"An' that whole terrorist thing in Mission City?"

"Yeah."

"..."

"..."

"...you need a girlfriend."

"What!?"

Epps just sat there shocked for a second until a new voice broke the silence.

"Hey, Sarge! Sergeant Epps!" Welman and Epps both turned their heads towards the door, where a young soldier stood catching his breath. "They want you back up at base, sir. ASAP!"

"What? I'm off duty now!"

"I'm just the messenger, sir. It sounded urgent though sir... "

"Alright, alright, I'm going." Swinging himself off the stool, Epps clapped Welman on the shoulder. "Maybe next time man."

"Yeah. And next time, you WILL have fun. Friend's orders."

Back at base, Epps found himself directed to one of the fighter hangars, to his surprise. There, he found the officers in charge having a rather heated discussion with one Captain Lennox.

"That thing should be DESTROYED! What were you THINKING bringing it here?!"

Epps made his way over to the knot of men, duly noting Ratchet and Ironhide, now fondly joked about as the 'Lennox family truck', standing near a firmly secured shape, easily bigger than either of them. Optimus Prime was also present, and was now talking to the group of humans clustered near him. "The Autobots do not kill 'in cold blood', as I believe your human saying goes. He is a prisoner of war, and we do not condone torture or pointless execution."

Epps recognized the general that spoke next as he discreetly elbowed his way over to Lennox. "It is too much of a danger to have on base. We cannot just hold him here, we do not have the facilities to do so, and even then, what if there was an accident? Even the slightest mistake…"

"Hey." Epps spoke quietly to Lennox as the argument continued between the Autobot and the other humans. "What's the deal here?"

Lennox shot him a pained glance before reaching a hand up to rub his temples. "The Autobots caught Starscream."

"What?!"

"That was my reaction. Anyway, apparently they caught him right after reentry from space with the help of some of the old Sector Seven guys and some spiffy NASA surveillance thing the 'Bots have now. Bagged him, zapped him out cold, and took out his 'transformation cog', which is what I assume lets them do the whole make-a-rubix-jigsaw-out-of-me business. And they took out some piece of equipment that keeps him from freezing in space." Now that Epps looked at him, Lennox looked really tired.

"You look like shit. All this took a while, I'm guessing."

"God yes. I don't think I've had anything more than three hours of sleep in the past two days. They let ME be the one to call the higher-ups and tell them about this little acquisition. Then we had to haul Starscream here, and he woke up in transit. Let me tell you, whoever named him Starscream made a slight understatement. I swear, anything within the next few solar systems had to have heard that screech. My ears were bleeding."

"So that's why they have bits of cotton stuck in them. I was wondering."

Lennox shot him a dirty look as Epps' grin stretched from ear to ear. "Kidding, kidding. Geez, lighten up, Cap. So, why are you bringing him here?"

"You know of a better place to keep an F-22 hidden than a USAF base?"

"Point taken. What do you have in mind for the slippery little... hmm, can't call him a bastard since he's a robot... biplane. Whatcha gonna do with our ugly little biplane?

I HEARD THAT, HUMAN!

Clapping his hands over his aching ears as Ironhide and Ratchet pounced upon the secured bundle, which he now noted had a vague F-22 shape, Epps felt annoyance well up within him. Who was this bag of bolts that tried to shatter his eardrums? No sack of screws had the right! And DAMN did it hurt! More miffed at the pain in his ears and the throbbing in his head than the actual rebuke, Epps stormed over to where the two Autobots were attempting to re-restrain the Decepticon, whose covering had fallen off during the scuffle. It was actually a somewhat comical sight. Fuel-less turbines spun ineffectively, flaps twisted, and landing wheels spun as the jet tried with all its might to throw off the medic and weapons specialist. Epps saw this all only vaguely as he stormed up to Starscream and did what he later realized was a very stupid thing to do.

He kicked the jet. Hard.

This resulted in Epps hobbling around holding his injured foot while spewing obscenities of all kinds at the now-silent-and-unmoving F-22. Finishing his rant with "... so go screw yourself with a welding torch!" Epps finally noticed the somewhat shocked silence that had fallen in the hangar, silence that was broken by a grating, screechy, but somehow slightly softer voice than before.

That was exceedingly idiotic.

"Fuck you too."

Improbable. Cybertronians do not use such filthy methods of reproduction as you disgusting primates do.

"That's kinda the point, to go humiliate yourself. You should try it sometime, it'd probably get the stick out of your ass, or whatever the robot equivalent to an ass is. Improve your looks too."

Apparently the line between stupid and suicidal does not register in your underdeveloped excuse for a processing unit.

"Suicidal? Oh, you wanna hear suicidal?"

As the argument stretched on, with no sign of ending soon, Optimus turned to the human general. "I believe a solution might have been found. Sergeant Epps has not been assigned a new fighter, has he not?"

The general 'hmfed' and eyed the pair, now trading vicious insults of just what the other resembled or was related to. "Are you sure the Decepticon will behave?"

"He has not attempted to kill the Sergeant as of yet, and the override chip we implanted can shut down Starscream's access to his mobility functions, should it ever be of need. I also believe that Sergeant Epps may be the only pilot on your base with the... hn... temperament... to face down a Decepticon, as well as experience with our kind."

"All right." The general sighed as Ratchet, Ironhide, and Captain Lennox finally snapped out of their amazed stupor and went to separate the F-22 and its newly-assigned pilot. "Let's hope this works, or God help us all... "

A few months later…

"I just can't understand why you never come here anymore on your off-duty time, Rob! And I never find you anywhere else either. You just up an'…poof!... disappear... Glad I found you this time, else you'd 'ave run off again." Welman grinned across his beer at Epps. "Maybe... tall, black, and handsome finally got a girlfriend?" Eyebrows wiggled. "Gettin' a little?" Epps laughed, a full, hearty laugh that made Welman grin wider.

"Yeah, I found a girl. Real bitch, nearly broke my eardrums screechin' like a banshee when we first met. Hell, still does. High-maintenance too. But the sex?" He shook his head, but then leaned across the table with a smirk so wicked it made Welman's grin falter, and said in a whisper so soft he made it sound holy:

"Like you're flying."