⸝⸝Oplita : One-Shots ⟢꒱

3 𝜗𝜚

୨୧ EP THREE : FLUFF ' DISCLAIMER ! DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ ! THIS CHAP. CONTAINS FLUFF AND WHOLESOMENESS + BACKSTORY FILLER! REGARDS, CHARLES ⟡

|| I'm quite bad at writing. Hope the past chapters were good reads! Happy reading ! :D

Cyber-Snow fell softly on the vermilion mountains of outer Iacon, pattering against the roof of the Autobot base. Prime's big body shivered, not in cold, but a little in defeat. This had been a long preparation month, and he hand't discovered any signals of what the Decepticons would next be up to. He worried this war would tire his team and weaken their supplies greatly. Preparations had already been brutal, destructive work, his teammates working tirelessly in assistance to help him. Despite his big structure, Optimus still felt helpless and small inside it. He was still Orion, through and through. Perhaps the matrix of leadership didn't deserve to belong him, his own fears were bound to be foreshadowing his future failure. A loud, crackly sigh escaped from his voice box as he rested his heavy head into his arms.

Watching, was Elita-one, her gaze fixed upon Prime from behind, the only bot to ever see through Prime's tough build to see his vulnerable, helpless self. She ached in worry for him, for she knew that this war would surely be weighing heavily on his shoulders. Elita began walking towards him, and placed a servo on his shoulder.

"Prime.." she murmured, her sound barely audible to Optimus's audio receptors.

"Frag, frag, what?" Prime scrambled upwards from his pitiful position, standing up tall, his infrastructure looming over Elita's shorter build. He cursed to himself, how could he let alone see him in that state, especially her. He was too noble to let anyone worry about him.

Elita's optics were bright in anxiety. "Please don't overwork yourself."

Aghast at this poor femme discovering how stressed he had been, Prime quickly attempted to cover up with a confident, leader-like act.

"Please don't worry your little head about the trivialities I must face to save Cybertron. Not stress inducing at all." came the low, confident voice of Prime. Except, it trembled slightly. And Elita was one to notice little details. Suddenly, an idea sparked into her head.

"Let me help you," begged Elita, her voice full of yearning, "I can be of help, I want to help you and your team."

Optimus shook his head firmly. "No, I'm sorry Elita. You are too ... precious to risk. " his voice softened. "I'm sorry, but I am not allowing you to work dangerously alongside me. If anything, I could place you in imminent danger where one of Megatron's subjects' takes you to ploy us in any sort of submission towards him. I will not allow you to become a bait."

Elita returned a cold gaze towards Optimus, who shuddered a little.

"Perhaps you think I am not adequate to work alongside you as I am a femme. I am a futile, insufficient worker as my intellectual capabilities are unlike yours." She began to walk away, her heeled feet clacking against the floor. Before she could go any further, Optimus grabbed at her wrist, and pulled her to face him by twirling her expertly.

"No..I was wrong," admitted Prime earnestly, "I would be honoured for you to work as one alongside me. You are one of the strongest bots I have encountered, and it would be a pleasure."

Elite felt a smile tug at her lips, letting Prime hold her wrists in a fierce grip.

"Perfect. Now let's go and get something to drink." Elita declared, taking Prime along with swift ease, so smoothly so it surprised Prime a little.

Damn, I'm so into strong ladies, marvelled Optimus, letting himself get dragged by this gorgeous bot in front of him.

-

"Who's this, Prime?" enquired Bee, pouring his leader some bubbling energon-mead. 

"Ah..a new recruitment to our team," replied Prime warmly, gesturing towards Elita.

"A femme? How interesting." interjected Springer, drawing out the nearest seat to sit beside Optimus. 

"Is she real?" piped Bee, now fluttering excitedly around Elita who faced him with a frown. 

She gripped Bee's shoulder tightly, making him squeak,  a forced smile curving onto her face. Optimus winced, sliding his face-plate back on.

"Do I look real, little Bee?" scowled Elita, her voice annoyed as ever.

"Is this the feisty femme you fixed back in our med-bay ages ago?" whispered Hot Rod to Ironhide quietly, who nodded, sipping his beverage in amusement. Ironhide found the situation highly entertaining. But Hot Rod wasn't quiet enough it seems, and smiled hastily as Elita turned her steely expression to him. Seizing this opportunity, Bee unhandled himself from his new teammates grip and bumbled away in a hurry.

"Welcome, Ma'am." quipped Springer respectfully, making a bow, before tumbling his old mech self over.

"You're overdoing it pal." mumbled Jazz, tapping a digit on Springer's shoulder. However, Elita found herself giggling at Springer's daft antics. The key to battling Elita's seemingly inpenetreble cold persona was simply respect and humour. The team seemed to recognise this. 

The autobots began catering around to Elita, performing antics to impress and delight her as one of them, and serving her lavish foods out of their supplies. 

"Enough, enough," Optimus scolded his team but could feel himself smiling. 

"What a enlightening experience to be an autobot!" commented Elita, who now even warmed up to Bee, who returned to see what all the noise was about. "Thank you for letting me be one with everybody here, Optimus." she gave him a little kiss on his face-plate, sending him into a flustered state.

"You're-you're-ah.." wobbled Optimus, his glass of mead crashing to the ground. 

"I promise to devote my life to help you all out here!" Elita grinned at everyone, pushing her servos' together. They all came together to place their servos' ontop each others, before throwing it back into the air. Elita was glad to be one of them, and they were glad to have such a interesting femme on their side.

"Till all are one."