Series: The Ghost Unit
Title: Subterfuge (15)
Setting: IDW Transformers, inspired by the "What's Wrong with a Little Destruction" 'verse by ajremix
Note: Many thanks to rexlapinii and ajremix for beta-ing!
Summary: In which Deadline shows everyone he has a very healthy sense of humor, thank you very much.

Subterfuge
"I understand the concept of humor. It may not be apparent but I am often amused by human behavior."
~ Seven of Nine, ST: Voyager

#Might I request your assistance for a moment?#

The voice over the comm was cool and composed, though with an underlying hint of strain which had Salvo raising an optic ridge in mild surprise as he gave Longshot a glance.

"Huh. He usually just keeps to himself unless we send someone in to drag him out..." The tank frowned a bit then shrugged and, at the enthusiastic nod of confirmation from the sniper, pinged a positive reply back at the medic. Giving the weapons they'd been going over a regretful look and a fond pat, he pushed himself up, making sure to reseal the crate they'd been going through. "Let's go check it out."

They were joined in their walk through the hallways of the temporary base by Fallout, one sensor panel shifting slightly in greeting as she fell into step with them.

"Any idea what's up?" Longshot's question as met with a diffident shrug by their second in command, who was clearly still very much lost in the data streaming process for whatever analysis she was working on. She did offer them a brief quirk of a smile though and both mechs considered it a win, considering how painfully formal she sometimes still was with all of them.

#She's easing into it steadily.# Salvo tight-linked the comment at Longshot, shooting the younger mech a reassuring smile.

#Yeah, she hasn't even quoted any regulations at us yet today,# was the cheeky reply, evident affection threading through words spoken in a mellow tone.

The medlab doorway was opened, allowing all three entry into a large, pristine room which led to several other areas. Most of them were closed off, but one's doorway stood wide open, drawing their attention.

"Ah, there you all are. Thank you for coming." There was again that oddly strained accent to Deadline's vocalizer and Salvo stepped forward first, followed by Longshot, both mechs intent on what might be going on. Neither noticed Fallout step to the side and lean on the wall by the door.

The surgical engineer staggered out of the room - the doorway labeled "Storage Room - Experimental Upgrades" - and turned around, holding something which was struggling against his grip wildly.

"GYAH!"

"What the-"

Both Salvo and Longshot gaped in revulsion at the struggling medic and his burden, and then the sight of what lay beyond Deadline had them both backing up several steps, vents cycling in barely restrained shock. A dismantled frame lay on an examination table within the storage room, various fluids still dripping from the table to the ground steadily. As they stared in fascinated dread, the frame twitched, the sudden motion followed by another, the shuddering motions combining into an agonized death rattle.

The addition of Deadline, looking up to beam at them benevolently while holding a severed, flailing arm was the breaking point.

With identical screeches of horror, the mechs turned and ran for the doorway, desperate to get away from the terrifying sight as quickly as possible. The sound of steady footsteps following them, along with a puzzle sound from the medic only spurred them on to greater speeds.

Deadline crossed through the room and leaned his head to the side to peer into the hallway as the two mechs ran away - still screaming - and grinned slowly when they turned the corner and scrambled out of sight. Shifting the large limb he held at arm's length with his primary arm set, he use one of the arms from the secondary usually housed in his sides to tweak the wires once more, flapping the hand at the departed bots in a mock goodbye.

"You are a mean, mean mech, taking advantage of them like that." After a brief pause Fallout snorted in amused recognition. "That's one of Salvo's spare arms, too. No wonder he ran."

Fallout's comment was met with a rare, slight grin and a low chuckle as Deadline unhoused his tertiary limbs, one of the arms going up to wave in an identical pattern as the sectioned limb he'd been manipulating.

"It is hardly my fault if they never realized I'd need more than one set of arms to conduct the kind of refits needed for their new shells," he said mildly, before turning around and heading back into the depths of the storage room. "Or that I'd have prototypes of their shells made first, too."

Fallout chuckled, shaking her head as she turned to follow the others - not at all intending to tease them about their reactions. Never that. Deadline's parting mutter only amused her further.

"Maybe now I'll get a little more peace and quiet while I work."

Current Mood: contemplative