Ratbat merely smirked again, letting go of the chin he was gripping and stood up, slowly walking over to where Cliffjumper was.
"Efficiency and profit. Merely logical use of resources and my time. At least when it comes to you."
Following the mostly purple senator's movements warily, Cliffjumper wasn't sure if he should yank out the blaster he still had in subspace or not yet. He wanted to, really, shoot that smug toyplane's faceplates off, but there were more than the guard standing over Optimus in the room.
However, when Ratbat actually came close enough to the berth to be able to touch him, and reached out, Cliffjumper could hardly just stand there.
"Though an' you slaggin' well'll pull back a stump, you glitch." Kicking out, foot connecting with a satisfying crunch, Cliffjumper grinned smugly, even as there was the noise of approaching guards. But then his fist was deflected, wrist grabbed and then the minibot hit the berth, front first, with a slam.
Apparently Ratbat was perfectly proficient in hand-to-hand, and could easily wave off the guards. Growling, Cliffjumper tried to heave, get the 'Con off, but there was a knee buried against his back below the swell of kibble, and one of his arms were twisted backwards.
"Slaggin'---" The curse was cut off, lost first in worldless protest and then static. Attempting to jerk his helm away from the fingers fondling one of the sensor horns got him a hand against the back of the helm, heavy enough the meeting with the berth sent a pain-response from his nasal ridge.
"I still seem to be in possession of my hands," Ratbat chuckled, clearly amused at the mini's attempts to stay still, and raised his helm to give Optimus a helm-tilted smirk.
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"Efficiency and profit. Merely logical use of resources and my time. At least when it comes to you."
Following the mostly purple senator's movements warily, Cliffjumper wasn't sure if he should yank out the blaster he still had in subspace or not yet. He wanted to, really, shoot that smug toyplane's faceplates off, but there were more than the guard standing over Optimus in the room.
However, when Ratbat actually came close enough to the berth to be able to touch him, and reached out, Cliffjumper could hardly just stand there.
"Though an' you slaggin' well'll pull back a stump, you glitch." Kicking out, foot connecting with a satisfying crunch, Cliffjumper grinned smugly, even as there was the noise of approaching guards. But then his fist was deflected, wrist grabbed and then the minibot hit the berth, front first, with a slam.
Apparently Ratbat was perfectly proficient in hand-to-hand, and could easily wave off the guards. Growling, Cliffjumper tried to heave, get the 'Con off, but there was a knee buried against his back below the swell of kibble, and one of his arms were twisted backwards.
"Slaggin'---" The curse was cut off, lost first in worldless protest and then static. Attempting to jerk his helm away from the fingers fondling one of the sensor horns got him a hand against the back of the helm, heavy enough the meeting with the berth sent a pain-response from his nasal ridge.
"I still seem to be in possession of my hands," Ratbat chuckled, clearly amused at the mini's attempts to stay still, and raised his helm to give Optimus a helm-tilted smirk.