Straightforward Choices

“Why must everything with you be such an ordeal, Rodimus?”

Megatron pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning forward on his arm, elbow propped up on the table in the shared captains’ office.

“It wouldn’t be if you weren’t so obstinate!”

Rodimus waved his arms overhead, a dramatic gesture.

Every single day on this ship was like this, even after all these years, after all they’d been through, after defying fate and escaping, just to stay together.

“How is it obstinate to simply ask you to decide what flavor of fuel you want for lunch?”

Actual command decisions were generally not this fraught any more, not after they had learned to adapt to each other’s command style.

However, mundane, personal decisions remained… challenging.

“There’s too many choices!”

The usual complaint, despite the fact that “flavors” were really whatever they had been able to synthesize from raw materials. Unless one wanted plain fuel, which Megatron preferred.

Simple.

All he needed to submit the order was whatever Rodimus wanted to eat.

“You get the exact same thing from the commissary every single day!”

And he argued about it every single day too.

“What if I don’t want copper filings today?” Rodimus slapped his palms down on the table. “Did you even think about that?”

“No.” Megatron sighed, turning off his optics so he could at least spare himself watching the same spectacle of a tantrum for the umpteenth time this month. “Because that’s not my problem. I don’t dictate what’s available on the menu.”

The poor hapless menu laid askew on the table in front of Rodimus, snubbed as though it had offended the speedster on purpose.

Megatron could hear Rodimus harrumphing and the scrape of plating as his colleague crossed his arms in petulant defiance.

Another deep ventilation, in and out.

“Just like yesterday and the day before that.”

“Fine!” At last. “I’ll have… hm….” Megatron onlined his optics once more to see Rodimus idly poking at the menu, scrolling around it to see if anything caught his eye, as though he were heavily weighing each option. “Hm.”

Any second now.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll have the copper filings again. That’s always solid—Hey! What gives?”

Megatron reached across the table and snatched the datapad holding the menu from Rodimus’s grasp, submitting the order before his colleague could change his mind.

“I didn’t pick an appetizer yet!”

“You never order an appetizer!”