He hadn’t heard from Starscream in a week. Good riddance, right? Except Blurr had thrown his hat into Starscream’s ring and mechs were starting to get suspicious. They were asking questions Blurr couldn’t answer.
He was good at evasion and changing the subject. He threw free drinks at those that were a little more persistent. And all the while, he eyed the door, waiting for Starscream to come striding through it with a smirk and a pseudo-apology.
Was he still sulking because Blurr had called him on his slag?
Blurr snorted. Trust the vain Seeker to get his wings in a twist over that. Starscream was too used to his followers fawning over him. Well, Blurr had been there, done that. He knew what it was like to be in the spotlight. He wasn’t about to become an idiot fan who lost his cool because his favorite racer had walked into the arena.
No fragging way.
Blurr aggressively scrubbed the countertop. This damned stain. No matter how much he sprayed it and sanded it and repainted, the off color kept bleeding through. It was hideous. Maybe he ought to rip out the whole counter and start over?
No. That cost shanix he didn’t have. And favors no one owed him. Prices for some things had mysteriously gone up since he’d thrown his lot in with Starscream. Meanwhile, other supplies were getting tossed at him, no questions asked, no shanix required. It was getting pathetically easy to see who was in Starscream’s camp and who wanted to rip off the Seeker’s wings.
There were sadly more of the latter than the former. Blurr could sympathize. There were times he wanted to wipe that smug smirk off Starscream’s face, too.
The front door opened. Blurr didn’t look up.
“I’m not open yet,” Blurr called out as he ducked behind the counter to find the bottle of solvent he’d stashed there.
“Not even for an old pal like me?”
Blurr straightened, peering over the counter. Swindle had a box on one hip and a swagger to his step. He had a cheap smile on his lips and a gleam to his optical band that suggested this conversation was going to cost Blurr a helmache and far too much of what he didn’t have to spare. And he wasn’t talking about shanix.
“Not unless you have the supplies I ordered,” Blurr said. He abandoned his search for the solvent and came around the counter, taking the box from Swindle’s hands.
He plopped it on the nearest table and started rummaging through it. Swindle still couldn’t count and Blurr wouldn’t trust him any further than he could throw him.
“I have everything you asked for,” Swindle said as he leaned a hip against the table. His smile never lost its sparkle. “What kind of supplier do you take me for?”
Blurr snorted and didn’t dignify that with an answer. All the magnesium this time. Sulfur, too. An extra tube of copper, like slag he was going to point that out. A fresh stack of washrags. A box of bulbs for the flickering sign.
“So I’m hearing rumors that you and flyboy are, how shall I say it, crashed and burned?” Swindle said as Blurr continued to count. He pushed off the table and started to wander around the bar.
Blurr kept one optic on him and one on his counting. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t.” Swindle chuckled. “What do I know anyway? It’s not like I got my nose and audials and optics in all the juiciest gossip around here. And it’s not like there isn’t another bigger player out there anyway.”
Blurr froze. His optics narrowed. He lifted his gaze and found Swindle by the jukebox Jazz had salvaged and was trying to repair. “Bigger player?” Could this have something to do with whatever Starscream refused to tell him?
Swindle gave him a slag-eating grin. His optical band lit up. “Oh? Didn’t you know?” He sounded like the turbofox who’d caught the metallocanary. “There’s another king vying for the throne and this one might actually oust your flyboy. He’s got more allies and he’s better connected.”
Blurr circled the table, wondering how much the information was going to cost him. “Who?”
Swindle whirled and started examining the jukebox as though it held all the secrets. He shrugged. “What makes you think I know? Hey, does this thing work?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Blurr bit out. He popped in on Swindle’s other side, leaning into the trader’s personal space. “Don’t give me that slag either. You know who it is. Tell me.”
“Why? Worried about Starscream?”
“Frag him,” Blurr almost snarled and had to remind himself that he was allies with Starscream. “He can take care of himself. But I need to know what I’m dealing with if I’m going to protect me and mine.”
Swindle snorted. “Like who? Jazz? Trust me. That mech can handle himself.” He punched a few buttons on the jukebox and then sniffed as though shocked it didn’t work. “Besides, I’m not lying. I don’t know who it is. He’s keeping to the shadows, contacting me through proxies. I was thinking you knew more, but I guess we’re both in the dark.”
Blurr’s optics narrowed. “Why don’t I believe you?”
Swindle backed away, planting a look of affront on his face. “I’m hurt, Blurr. Aren’t we friends? Aren’t we allies?” He flicked a hand toward his faction-empty chestplate. “Didn’t I save your spark once upon a time?”
“And I thought you had better taste than that, Blurr.”
Blurr stiffened. That voice was just as unmistakable as Swindle’s. He turned slowly, hackles raised.
“Starscream,” he acknowledged, surprised that not only was Starscream here, but he wasn’t smirking or looking smug. In fact, if Blurr had to venture a guess, he’d say that Starscream looked… angry. Or worried. Perhaps both. “Good of you to come by.”
“I was in the neighborhood,” Starscream drawled. He crossed his arms, optics shifting to Swindle. “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome, Swindle.”
The trader chuckled and edged toward the exit, a rather graceful retreat if anyone asked Blurr.
“I think I have,” he said. He tossed Blurr a neutral salute. “We’ll discuss payment and terms later, Blurr.”
“Right,” Blurr said, refusing to take his optics off Starscream. If the Seeker thought he was going to intimidate Blurr like he did Swindle, well, he had another thing coming.
The door opened and shut. Blurr glared at Starscream for a full thirty seconds before he broke it off and stalked forward. He snatched his box of supplies off the table and headed to the store room. If Starscream wanted to talk, he’d follow. Also, Blurr wasn’t going to be the one to talk first either.
Starscream followed him. The awkward silence lingered.
Blurr propped the storeroom door open and started to distribute the supplies. He snuck the occasional look at Starscream. The Seeker had wiped his face clear of expression, but every once in a while, an emotion would slip through. His wings twitched and they were obvious giveaways.
“Business appears to be booming,” Starscream finally ventured.
Blurr snorted and cast him a sideways look. “Sales have declined twenty percent since I declared myself your ally,” he retorted. “I’m sure they’ll decline further. No one likes you Starscream.”
Starscream flinched. Blurr refused to feel bad about it.
“I am not supposed to be their friend,” Starscream retorted instead. “I am their leader. That means I make the difficult choices.”
Blurr made a noncommittal noise and pulled the rest of the supplies out of the box, arranging them neatly on the shelves. He was still running low on a few things. He made a mental note to text Swindle the list later.
“It also means that I’ve made some enemies.”
Starscream moved closer, into the doorway. His gaze wandered around the room, taking in the neatly labeled stacks of backstock and equipment.
“Those that would strike at you just to hurt me.”
Blurr went still. He braced his hands on the shelves and looked at Starscream. “You almost sound like you’d care.”
Starscream hissed a ventilation and rubbed his forehelm. “It is my responsibility–”
“Slag and you know it!” Blurr snapped. He whirled toward Starscream, refusing to allow himself to be intimidated by the larger Seeker. “This is how it’s going to be, Starscream. You’re going to decide and you’re going to do it right now. Either I’m your partner or I’m your plaything. I can’t be both and I refuse to be the latter. You get me?”
Starscream lowered his hand and stared. “We are allies–”
“So help me Primus if you complete that sentence with another evasion, I am going to throw you out of this bar and I don’t give a frag who sees me do it,” Blurr snarled.
He didn’t stomp his pede, but it was a near thing. His fingers were itching and he wished he had his pistol, but he’d made a point of not wearing it when he was in the bar.
Starscream sighed and crossed his arms. Everything about his posture read defensive, even the down-tilt of his wings.
“Fine,” he bit out. “We’re partners.”
“Equal partners,” Blurr growled.
Starscream inclined his helm. “Equal partners.” His wings fluttered and raised a few degrees. “It has come to my attention that I am in need of them now, even more than I was before. I am not going to alienate one of the few mechs I can believe is on my side.”
Blurr blinked. Had Starscream just…? No. He wasn’t going to fall into that trap. No way Starscream let that slip by accident. It had to be calculated.
“Good,” he said. “Then you’re going to tell me what’s going on because I’m sure you know more than Swindle does. Who’s the new player?”
Starscream grimaced and stepped further into the storeroom, pulling the door shut behind him. It didn’t make the storeroom soundproof, but whatever made him feel better Blurr supposed.
“His name’s Obsidian,” Starscream finally explained, armor drawn tight with tension. “He’s supposed to be dead, along with his partner, Strika.”
Blurr didn’t recognize either name. “Decepticons?”
“By default.” Starscream’s shoulders hunched as anger flickered through his field. “But extremists who were worse than Megatron. They care more about Cybertron as a whole, a concept, than the mechs who live here.”
Ugh. The worst kind. You couldn’t reason with extremists.
“But that’s all I know.” Starscream audibly cycled a ventilation. “I’ve got my mechs looking for more information. Until I know more, we all have to be careful. Obsidian is the type to do whatever it takes. He doesn’t care who or what he has to go through. And he doesn’t give a frag about public opinion.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Blurr replied.
He looked at Starscream who returned his gaze evenly. Silence fell again, only slightly less awkward than before. Blurr was still waiting for his apology. He doubted he’d get it.
“I have work to do,” Blurr said because Starscream staring at him was now verging on weird and it was making his plating itch. “I’m sure you do, too.”
He moved to pass Starscream, but the Seeker intercepted him with a single step. His helm was tilted toward Blurr, but his gaze was on the wall behind.
“Are we good?”
“We’re still allies,” Blurr said. “But if you want me back in your berth, you’ve got a long way to go. Because that road seems to lead to a gross misconception on your part.”
Starscream rolled his optics. “What do you want from me? Actual courting? Because I didn’t think that’s what we were doing.”
“An apology would be a start.” Blurr ducked around Starscream and pushed the door back open. Luckily, no one had walked into the bar in his absence. “I think a little humility might do you some good.”
“Ha.” Starscream followed him out. “Humility? You’re one to talk.”
Blurr glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve learned.” The war had been a pretty harsh teacher.
He slipped behind his bar after a peek at his chronometer. “I have to open soon. If you want to continue this conversation, it will have to be later.”
“Tonight. My place. It’s safer than that hovel you call a habsuite,” Starscream said. How hard had he struggled to keep the sneer from his face?
“Fine. Whatever.”
He focused intently on that stain again. He felt Starscream staring at him, but refused to look up and acknowledge it. He waited for Starscream to say something else, maybe that much needed apology, but instead, Starscream made himself scarce.
Go figure.
Blurr sighed and threw the rag down again. He pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor. Fragging complications.
This was not what he signed up for.
Pandora's Box 