Archive of Our Own ^beta

The morning was strangely uneventful.

There were no meetings, no speeches, and no confrontations or arguments.

Just a day to relax. Windblade didn’t mind.

But all good things come to an end.

“Called to Starscream’s office, again?” Windblade grumbled to no one in particular. She’d gotten a notification through her personal comm from Starscream, summoning her to his office at once.

“Whatever this is about, this better be serious!” She slammed the doors open with a hiss. “This is the third time this week, Screamer.”

“Windblade! Just in time,” Starscream stood up, servos resting on the desk. He gave her that signature smirk of his, the one where his eye was slightly twitched, and his smirk was pushed to one side. A mischievous glint in his eyes made Windblade feel dread.

“What is it?” Windblade asked again, watching as Starscream closed the doors.

“Nothing in particular, just wanted to give you these.” He handed her an average-sized tray filled with Caminien Energon delights. A couple of them were mixed with various elements, and some had extra bits of Energon to top it off. “Eat it sparingly. These were difficult to find.”

Windblade stared at the tray with a mix of shock and confusion. She shouldn’t be surprised, she told herself. He did this every other day, handing her treats and trinkets like it was nothing. “I—”

She cut off the moment she realised Starscream was doing that circle thing again. “Okay, Starscream. Tell me: what is your deal? And can you stop circling? It’s making me dizzy.” Windblade gently placed the tray onto a nearby table. 

“Deal? What deal?” Starscream asked.

“You know,” Windblade said. She crossed her arms. “Giving me trinkets and Energon, circling me, asking me questions. You don’t give me the vibe of someone who would willingly do that with anyone.”

“So, tell me, Starscream,” She said as she began to approach Starscream. “What do you want from me? To work for you? To become your spy? To do your dirty deeds—” She jabbed a finger into his chassis.

Cut off, Starscream grabbed Windblade’s wrist. “I want… I… don’t want any of that.” He released his grip and huffed. 

“Then what do you want from me?” Windblade demanded.

“There’s a party coming up. One that requires me to be there,” Starscream began. He paced around the room, no longer walking around Windblade. “I need… someone to go with, you see.” He paused, his pace slowed to a full stop. He rubbed two digits together as he stared at the city of Iacon, one arm behind his back.

Windblade nodded. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I think you can guess, Cityspeaker,” Starscream said as he smirked at Windblade once more. “They need two bots to go together.”

“No, I…” Windblade thought for a moment. “I… oh. Oh! Oh… oh.” 

“You want me… to go with you?” She pointed at Starscream, then to herself, one optic ridge raised in confusion.

“Precisely,” Starscream walked back over to Windblade. “Took you long enough.” 

“Why not ask anyone else?” Windblade asked. 

“Can you think of anyone else who’s willing to go with me?” Starscream replied.

“… no…” Windblade said slowly. 

“The party will be tomorrow night. I expect you to look your best, Cityspeaker. Meet me back here.” Starscream picked up the tray and handed it back to Windblade before he began to shove her out of the room. 

“And don’t be late,” He growled into her auditory component before shutting the door behind her.

“What did I just agree to?” Windblade gasped.

—

Windblade wasn’t sure, in all honesty. Why had she agreed to going to the party with Starscream?

Was it normal for Starscream to circle her? Or hand her small trinkets now and then?

She lay on her berth, waiting to drift off into recharge. As she lay there, she began to recall how this all started in the first place.

It started with Starscream handing her small gifts. These trinkets tended to be something small, like a rock or a rare Cybertronian gem. If Starscream was in a particularly good mood that day, she’d receive Energon treats at her office. (Much like today).

Windblade also noticed that Starscream seemed… a little more curious about her, too. Constant questions like “Where are you going after the meeting?” Or “What Energon treat do you enjoy?” To “What did you do back in Caminus?” Seemed to pique Starscream’s interest.

It was out of character for Starscream.

Any time Windblade dared to confront or question his motives (because who wouldn’t with a bot like him?), Starscream would immediately sputter and brush it off with a half-hearted excuse. “Care?! I don’t care. Just… wondering, is all.” He’d say.

Oh, and the constant circling. 

Literally. 

The circling! 

Starscream would ask these questions and walk in circles around her, as if inspecting her closely. It wasn’t a habit, Windblade could confirm that. 

The thought of Starscream doing all of these things sent a strange sense of warmth to her spark, though she’d never admit it or acknowledge these feelings.

Because who would be idiotic enough to want to date a mech like him? Selfish, arrogant, manipulative…

And yet, something in her tugged her spark again.

She’d seen his mind, who he truly was inside.

Windblade may not agree with his actions or words, but she’d seen what he had gone through—what he yearned to have for Cybertron.

…

No. No, no, no, NO! She will not be pitying him!

Windblade turned around in her berth with a loud huff as she felt her faceplate heat up.

The last thought she had before she drifted off to recharge was just… how complicated all of this felt.

Windblade wasn’t quite sure what to do.

—

Windblade tried to make herself look presentable. She polished herself up and made sure there were no scratches on her paint job.

She decided to put on a couple more accessories on her helm, unsure about how formal this supposed party was going to be. 

“I expect you to look your best,” said the Starscream voice in her head as she walked towards his office.

“Hopefully this is good enough,” She murmured to herself.

Windblade reached his office and began to push the door open.

Inside, Starscream was staring at his own reflection and making minor adjustments to his helm and frame. “Doesn’t look quite right,” He murmured. “Don’t you think so?”

“Fine? Fine?! I’m thinking the last frame I had was alright,” Starscream said. A pause. He continued, “It was slimmer and better for stealth—… tch.” 

“Ah, well, just for one night, I suppose.” He hummed.

Windblade coughed, an attempt to grab the seeker’s attention. 

Starscream made a noise that was somewhere in between a scream and a pathetic cry. “I guess knocking is lost on some people, isn’t it?!” He stormed over to her. 

“And I suppose you talking to yourself suggests that you are…?” She left the sentence hanging, but it was enough to get Starscream shoving the both of them out the door already. 

“None of your business, Cityspeaker,” Starscream said. 

“Mmhm,” Windblade grunted in response.