hoppersnail

One-Shot Fic

2008-03-29T00:00:47Z

This is a little more of a serious fic. I just got home from helping my parents pack up my grandma's clothing, and I'm really missing her right now, so I sat down a wrote this. It's sad, because I'm feeling sad right now.

Title: The Things You Left Behind
Rating: G
Summary: These are the only things that Bumblebee has left of his friend.

When Bumblebee didn’t return to the base, the others went to find him.

It was Ironhide who spotted him at the lookout. The scout was sitting quietly, watching the sun set, something cupped in his hands. He didn’t turn as Ironhide walked up and stood next to him.

“I just thought it might help,” Bumblebee said, breaking the silence. “Humans have such strange customs, but she offered, and I thought…” He shrugged awkwardly, and opened his hands. “She said I could take what I wanted.”

Ironhide wasn’t surprised to see that of all the things Bumblebee might have chosen, it was the keys Bobby Bolivia had given Sam that first day that were lying in his palm.

“Sam always carried these around. He said he would no more leave the house without my keys in his pocket than without his wedding ring on his finger.” Bumblebee delicately nudged the fuzzy little bee dangling from the key ring, and closed his hands again.

“It’s not him. I thought that if I could have something this important to both of us, something with so many memories attached, it would help. But it’s just pieces of metal.” Another shrug. “I can hold his things, but I can’t hold him. He’s gone.”

“It hurts,” Ironhide said as gently as he could.

Bumblebee nodded silently, hunching slightly, curling himself around the only thing he had left of the human he’d loved.

Ironhide patted Bumblebee’s shoulder. The scout reached up and grasped his hand hard enough to hurt, and Ironhide felt him tremble slightly.

They watched the sun set, and when Bumblebee rose to go, Ironhide was there to help him to his feet.

Judy's Garden

2008-03-24T08:08:07Z

Title: Pest: Ron
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: It's all fun and games until someone messes with the lawn.

Ron had been chuckling to himself for weeks about the ongoing spat between his wife and the Autobots concerning her garden.

He wasn’t laughing now.

He’d been frantically wrenching the damned dandelions out of the dirt for two solid hours, and for every one he tossed in the trash, it seemed five were spreading their fluffy little seeds into his grass. His lush, green, perfectly tended lawn was going to be a battlefield for weeks while he sprayed and mowed and uprooted.

Judy was currently on the phone with Prime. He’d almost pity the guy, if it weren’t for the yellow menace infesting his yard.

Ron sat back on his heels. His back was starting to ache, his hands hurt from gripping the trowel and yanking on stubborn taproots, sweat was stinging his eyes, and there was still half the garden left to do. He was also going to have to build a new trellis or, God forbid, the gazebo that Judy had been hinting about for the last year or so.

He gave the tarp on the corner of the patio a speculative glance. He didn’t like the rifle. It was large and ugly and looked like a ray gun out of a science fiction movie.

Ron turned back to the dandelions, grabbing a plant and stabbing viciously at the roots with the trowel.

Maybe he should have Judy show him how the thing worked.

Judy's Garden

2008-03-23T07:18:34Z

Title: Pest: Perceptor
Rating: PG
Summary: Perceptor, you should know better than to listen to Sideswipe...

For once, Sideswipe had actually had a good idea.

Perceptor carefully dug his fingers into the soft soil and lifted the Caladium bicolor from the soil. The specimen seemed in perfect health, and he hummed gently to himself as he transferred the plant to a compartment in a specially made container.

When he had complained about the lack of botanical lifeforms in the area surrounding the base, and that Prime had forbidden him to go searching in unsecured areas, Sideswipe had told him of the collection kept by Samuel James Witwicky’s female genetic contributor. He had waxed eloquent about the variety of flowering and non-flowering vegetation, the superb care lavished on each individual stalk and blossom by Judy Witwicky.

Well, really Sideswipe had said, “She has fragging thousands of the things, and she acts like they’re her fragging sparklings,” but it amounted to the same thing.

And while there certainly weren’t thousands of species, the ones represented were all in peak condition, free of parasites and disease and arranged with the needs of each plant in mind. However, a quick search of the Internet had revealed a serious problem.

Nearly all of the plants Judy Witwicky’s garden were potentially hazardous to human systems.

For instance, Caladium bicolor could potentially cause contact dermatitis, and gastrointestinal disturbance if ingested. Convallaria majalis was known to cause an irregular heartbeat and mental confusion. And the seeds of Ipomoea violacea contained a powerful hallucinogen. These plants belonged nowhere near human habitation and Perceptor was seeing to it that they were removed.

He finished with the ground specimens and turned his attention to the vines twining their way up a trellis. It took approximately 3.58 minutes to finish tucking them into his container.

A quick analysis of the paint covering the trellis revealed traces of lead, toxic to humans in large quantities. Perceptor quickly dismantled it and tucked it under one arm, then grasped the handle of his specimen container, feeling rather pleased with himself. He’d not only collected enough samples to keep him busy for a while, he’d made Judy Witwicky’s dwelling a great deal safer for her and her family unit. And the Taraxacum officinale which he had replaced the dangerous vegetation with were both decorative and edible, containing nutrients that were beneficial to the human system.

As he walked away, the mass of brilliant yellow flowers gleamed in the sunlight, delicate white clocks already beginning to disperse their seeds onto the adjoining lawn.

Caladium bicolor- Angel Wings

Convallaria majalis- Lily of the Valley

Ipomoea violacea- Morning Glory

Taraxacum officinale- Dandelions

Judy's Garden

2008-03-21T05:48:16Z

Title: Pest: Chromia
Rating: PG
Summary: Forget diamonds. A rifle is a girl's best friend.

Judy Witwicky, Chromia decided, was a true kindred spirit.

Well, actually, the only thing they had in common was the willingness to kick aft when necessary, but really, friendships had been based on less.

Plus, if she was friends with Judy, she was allowed to wreak havoc on those who messed with the human or her garden. Assuming there was anything left to wreak havoc on. Considering the gauge of the laser rifle the woman was carefully aiming at the sky, Chromia thought there might only be little bits of smoking wreckage scattered about.

“So, you just point it?”

Chromia turned her attention back to her pupil. “The sight’s designed to lock onto Cybertronian signals. Once that little red light starts blinking, just pull the trigger and watch the sparks fly.” She took a closer look at the jet circling overhead. “Actually, you might want to start now. That’s a Decepticon.”

“Is it the one who crashed in my garden?” The little human was yanking the rifle around on the tripod Chromia had rigged with a rather wild gleam in her eye. It was positively endearing how excited rookies got the first time you put something with some real firepower in their hands.

“No, that’s Skywarp. He’s pretty much the Decepticon version of Sideswipe.”

“Oh, is he?” Judy crouched a little, angling the rifle just right. “There’s the light-“

SHOOM!

Above them, Skywarp transformed, flailing madly as he tried to dodge the shot. Curls of smoke drifted away in a sky that abruptly emptied.

Chromia snorted. Figured that Skywarp would forget that he could teleport until after he’d been hit.

She turned to Judy, who was staring upward with a dazed look on her face. “Oh, look. He left.” The human turned wondering eyes on the rifle, and then a positively evil grin spread over her face.

“Are you going to warn anybody about this?”

Chromia grinned back. “I might let Bluestreak know, seeing as how you like him, and Ironhide’s the one who found the rifle for me. Everyone else can take their chances.”

Judy's Garden fic (again!)

2008-03-20T05:45:24Z

Title: Pest: Skywarp
Rated: PG-13 for language
Summary: Skywarp just had to know what happened to Starscream.

Skywarp circled lazily, keeping his sensors trained on the dwelling far below him.

“Just why are we here again?” Thundercracker asked, engines rumbling irritably.

“Give it a minute,” Skywarp said. “You don’t want to miss this, I swear.”

Two weeks ago, Starscream had flatly refused to comment on why he’d returned covered in mud and crushed vegetation, but Skywarp could tell there was a fragging hilarious story behind his wingmate’s condition. So he’d checked to see where Starscream had been heading, and backtracked until he was distracted by an Autobot signal.

The Autobot in question was covered in mud and crushed vegetation, and being chased by a human wielding a slender metal club.

Skywarp had put two and two together and laughed so hard he nearly shorted a circuit.

Since then, he’d been monitoring the primitive communication device installed in the human’s dwelling, and today she had contacted the Autobot base and requested a meeting with Optimus Prime. Skywarp wasn’t about to miss the sight of Optimus fragging Prime getting his aft kicked by a puny little organic, and he’d dragged Thundercracker along to share in the joy.

His buddy seemed determined to bring the mood down, though.

“How do you know that the human will do the same thing?” he snapped. “Just because you saw this happen one other time doesn’t mean that it’ll happen again. I not sure I believe that it did happen before.”

“Shut up, here he comes,” said Skywarp, tuning every sensor he had on the approaching Peterbilt and readying a recording device, just in case.

His audios caught every word of the following conversation.

“Tell me, Mr. Prime, have you ever heard of the word discipline?”

“Mrs. Witwicky-“

“I’ve had my flowers trampled. I’ve had a hole punched in my roof. I’ve had alien jets bodyslammed in my back yard. Exactly what is it going to take to get you to keep those miscreants away from my house?”

“I assure you-“

“The others are welcome as long as they behave themselves, but if I see Sidestripe and Sunflower here again, I’ll take them apart. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Mrs. Witwicky.”

Skywarp shrieked. Dimly, he heard Thundercracker howling, both jets staggering drunkenly across the sky.

“Oh,” Thundercracker gasped, “did you hear that?”

“Didn’t just hear it. I recorded it.”

“The great Prime, the dignified Prime, scolded like a sparkling! That’s even better than the aft-kicking!”

“Yeah,” Skywarp said, grinning. “Now aren’t you glad you came along?”

Judy's Garden fic

2008-03-20T03:44:47Z

Next installment up! Are the Autobots finally starting to learn their lesson?

Title: Pest: Bluestreak
Rated: G
Summary: Underneath that innocent exterior, Bluestreak's a devious little thing.

“Mirage said that it was proper etiquette to bring flowers to the hostess when you visit,” Bluestreak said, offering her a flowering dogwood tree that was taller than she was.

Judy smiled. “How thoughtful! Just a moment, I’ll get my shovel and we can plant it over there in the corner.”

In the end, she didn’t need a shovel at all. Bluestreak just dug a hand into the earth and scooped out a hole, then held the tree steady while she packed soil around its roots.

It was nice to know that there was at least one Autobot with manners. And really, Bluestreak was such a nice young mech. A little talkative, but very sweet. And he’d been delighted by her invitation to stop by and chat whenever he liked.

Bluestreak headed back to the base feeling pleased with himself. Sideswipe had bet his newest batch of high grade energon that no one could set foot in the Witwicky garden without being attacked by its owner, and Bluestreak had not only been in the garden, he’d been invited back. That high grade was his.

Plus, Judy had been only too happy to talk about her flowers, and he’d learned about some yellow blooms the exact color of Sunstreaker’s paint called daffodils. Also known as narcissus. Which was from a Greek myth about a human who fell in love with his own reflection.

Bluestreak sniggered quietly to himself. He’d have to remember to tell Sideswipe about that. Sunstreaker would be hearing about daffodils for weeks. Served him right for ‘accidentally’ stepping on Bluestreak’s doorwings the last time they’d trained together.

Fic!

2008-03-19T06:43:01Z

Whee, finished Wheeljack's story! Hope you enjoy!

Title: Pest: Wheeljack
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Wheeljack was just trying to apologize, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Well. Wheeljack hadn’t expected that reaction.

Dirt pattered to the ground around him, pebbles clanging off his armor as he tried to figure out just why the fertilizer had exploded. The original formula was dangerous only if mixed with certain chemicals, and Wheeljack had been very careful not to add those chemicals to his own mixture. Maybe the soil contained an element which had reacted to-

“Holy shit!”

Sam Witwicky came bolting out of the house, arms flailing. “What the hell did you do, man? Stick dynamite in the ground? My mom’s gonna freak.”

“Dynamite was not involved. I merely wished to produce a more effective fertilizer for Mrs. Witwicky as an apology for treading on her Calendula officinalis.”

“Her what?”

Wheeljack pointed to a small orange flower that had landed on the roof. “The marigolds.”

“Um.” Sam fidgeted, wide eyes taking in the destruction of his mother’s pride and joy. “Blowing the garden up? So not the way to apologize.” He glanced at his watch. “We have two hours before she gets back from that flower club thing she went to. I’ll call Bee and see if he can drive me to the nursery. If I at least make a start on replanting stuff, she might just ground me for life instead of killing me.”

“I would be happy to assist you-“

“No.” A nervous laugh. “No, you’d better get out of here. Mom won’t bother with grounding you, she’ll just kill you.”

Wheeljack started to protest, then thought of his last encounter with Judy Witwicky’s temper. And her baseball bat.

“Yes, perhaps you’re right.” He sidled towards the street, optics darting nervously about for a vengeful woman intent on denting his legs. “Ah, perhaps it would be best not to mention this to Optimus?”

Sam grinned. “I won’t, but my mom will probably give him an earful about it.”

Wheeljack winced. Still, at least Prime wasn’t in the habit of beating his soldiers with sports equipment. Or frying pans. Or brooms.

On the whole, the brig was sounding better and better. Locked doors were good. Locked doors meant Wheeljack on one side and Judy Witwicky on the other.

Wheeljack transformed and headed for the base.

Itty-bitty fic

2008-03-19T02:27:34Z

Title: Makeover
Rated: G
Summary: Mojo's not the only one with problems...

Oh, God. Oh, God, please not again.

A smattering of glittery pink hearts. Smiley faces bouncing merrily about. Frigging daisies.

And the crowing effect: a giant rainbow plastered across Bumblebee’s hood.

“Sorry, buddy,” Sam said sheepishly, heading back into the house for the same argument he’d had three times this week.

“Mom! I told you! Stop putting girl decals on a boy car!”

Judy Witwicky beamed at him.

“But honey, it’s his bling!”

Fic: Pest: Starscream

2008-03-18T06:04:48Z

Title: Pest: Starcream
Rating: PG 13
Summery: Starscream, meet Judy. And you thought Autobots were a pain...

This was, Starscream decided, all Megatron’s fault. If Megatron wasn’t an incompetent idiot, the Allspark would never have been lost and Starscream would not be in his current position, face down in the mud with Autobots sitting on his wings and legs and one of the Earth natives beating him over the head.

The creature didn’t even have a proper weapon. It was using some sort of metal club, but the pathetic thing hadn’t put a dent in him. The clanging was beginning to annoy him, however, and the high-pitched screeches right next to his audios were even worse.

One of the Autobots shifted, ever so slightly, and Starscream flung himself upward. At least, he tried to. He might have moved two inches before his captors slammed him back into the ground.

“I think he was going for the purple ones, Judy,” said the red Autobot perched on his left wing.

“My lilacs!”

Clang!

“Oops, his foot twitched. There go those pink things.” That was the yellow Autobot on his right wing.

“My roses!”

Clang!

“I hope you weren’t too attached to the ruffled red and yellow ones. They look kinda crispy,” the red one said cheerily, smashing a fist into Starscream’s back. “Turn that engine off, or I’ll do it for you.”

“My dahlias! I spent all morning spreading manure on those, you jackass!”

Clang!

“Manure?” The yellow one sounded…odd. Fingers clenched painfully on Starscream’s wing as the mech tensed. “Manure?”

There was an unholy shriek as the weight on his right wing disappeared, the yellow mech scrambling across the ground like he thought it might grow fangs and bite him.

Starscream made his move.

“Slaggit, Sunny! Help me!” the red one screamed, clinging to a wing and trying to pull the Decepticon back down.

Starscream shook him off and bolted straight up, transforming and heading for the stratosphere. Perhaps it would be best to keep away from Earth for a little bit.

Still, the humiliation of being abused by an organic was almost worth it for the look on that yellow Autobot’s face when he realized he’d been rolling about in bovine fecal matter.

Pest: Sunstreaker

2008-03-16T04:15:44Z

The next installation in the Judy's Flowers series.

Title: Pest: Sunstreaker
Rating: T (for mech potty mouth)
Summery: Sunstreaker, meet Judy. Watch out for the frying pan.

Sunstreaker stared at the organic muck oozing up around his feet and contemplated the best way to earn a long period in solitary confinement. He could tear Sideswipe into little pieces and grind them into the dirt, or drive back to the base and track mud all over Ratchet’s new medbay. Either ought to land him in the brig for at least the next Earth month, and being in the brig meant not having to drive on roads covered in tiny pebbles that bounced off his undercarriage, or stand in disgusting vegetation while his idiot brother chatted with the human creature that had killed Megatron.

Besides, he was bored. He certainly wasn’t going to bother conversing with organics, and there was nothing to do but look menacing and glare every time Samwitwicky glanced toward him. The humans had ridiculous names, anyway. They didn’t even mean anything. “Samwitwicky” gave no clue towards personality quirks, physical appearances, or designated assignments. A better name might be something descriptive like “Fragile Organic Con-destroyer.”

Sunstreaker couldn’t help grinning to himself, turning it quickly to a sneer. It was a little long, but they could call him Fragger for short.

“Excuse me!”

The other organic inside Samwitwicky’s domicile stepped off the porch and advanced on the mechs standing behind the house, clutching the handle of a shallow metal pan in one hand.

“Get off of my begonias!”

“Oh, crap,” Samwitwicky muttered. “Um, you might want to move out of the flower bed now, um, Sunshine.”

Sunstreaker stopped sneering at the organic on the ground and started glaring at the organic in the window instead.

“Sunshine!” Sideswipe sniggered.

With great effort, Sunstreaker ignored his brother. Prime had threatened off-road patrol if he got into another fight in the middle of a human city. He’d just wait until they got back to the base to pound the slagger’s faceplates in.

“Hey, you! Sunflower! I said get out of my garden!”

The clang as the metal pan met his leg armor echoed in the sudden hush.

Even Sideswipe was momentarily silenced. Then he howled with laughter. “Better listen to the lady, Sunflower! I think she means it!” His laughter turned to a yelp as Sunstreaker, pushed past what he could endure, whirled around and flung himself at his twin.

Organic muck on his feet. His name mangled by humans. His brother’s braying laughter. These things he could have borne. Sunstreaker threw a punch and snarled as Sideswipe dodged and his fist smashed through the roof.

The scratched paint on his leg would be paid for in internal fluids, and since the humans were off-limits, Sideswipe’s would have to do.

Fic: Pest

2008-03-15T05:42:49Z

There was an Autobot standing in the flowers again.

Judy Witwicky stood at the kitchen window and glared at the massive mechanical form that was currently crushing her peonies. The darned things had stubbornly refused to bloom for three years, and this year had finally produced beautiful ruffled pink and white flowers. And now yet another Autobot coming to see Sam had ruined them.

Enough was enough. Optimus Prime had at least had manners enough to apologize for the roses under Sam’s bedroom window, and Ratchet hadn’t meant to fall on the greenhouse. Judy had been willing to give them a little leeway. After all, it had been their first night on a new planet, and they hadn’t quite figured out how to maneuver around human dwellings without damaging things.

But they’d been here nearly a year now, and it seemed that every time a new Autobot showed up, another section of the garden was destroyed. You’d think that one of the original group would have told them to watch their feet. Well, if Optimus wasn’t up to the task, than Judy Witwicky was more than capable of scaring some manners into them.

She eyed her weapons and decided on the broom. Last time she’d used the frying pan on a big yellow Autobot standing on her begonias, and scratched his paint. The resulting ruckus had ended with a hole in the roof and Judy didn’t particularly want to have to repair her house again. The broom would get the point across without damaging anything other than some egos.

Besides, brooms were the traditional means of getting rid of pests, weren’t they?