Turned-On Blitzwing

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A/N: Catechism belongs to Lunatron and is used with permission.

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The battle was almost over, just the fliers sweeping up any Autobot stragglers. Down below, most of the ground-mode Decepticons were doing their own mopping up: grabbing trophies, grabbing interesting weapons, or just desecrating a particularly hated enemy.

One particular mech, assigned to the ground troops for this particular battle, stood on a pile of corpses and watched a peculiar flier trine wing by overhead. One pastel yellow pyramid-jet, one grey F-35B, and one grey B-1B. He still wasn't quite sure how a bomber fit into a normal flier-trine, but he didn't argue with them. Not after having to deal with a sulky Catechism for the days leading up to this battle.

Speaking of whom, she probably had no idea how the searchlights kept glinting off her underbelly and wings. Nowhere near as nice as when she reduced some of the new Autobot jets to flaming scraps of metal, but it... kept up his interest.

Ah, she'd finally noticed him. The grey Seeker spun down and transformed to robot-mode. "Why are you still here?"

Blitzwing grinned and shifted slightly as the Autobot corpse he stood on slid a little. "Just watching you fly, Catechism."

"Mm-hmm."

He held out his fuel-stained hand, still grinning. She took hold of it, and he yanked her down into a kiss.

End

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