A/N: This is a gift I shall gladly give to my best friend, AlexisPrime. I thought it was high time someone repaid her for all her hard work and her amazing stories that all defy a fitting description. This is for you, my friend. I hope you like it. :D

This is set before the war on G1 Cybertron. And yes, they are bondmates.

"Aww c'mon Ratch'! Why not?" Ironhide begged his mate, almost getting down on his knees and begging.

"No, 'Hide, said no before and I'm sayin' it again. No." Ratchet scowled back, smacking his mate upside the helm with a wrench.

"Why not? It'll be great! Won't hafta worry 'bout me all th' time!"

"Because I said no. And I always worry about you Ironhide," Ratchet replied, going back to the current datapad he was reading.

"Ya always said ya wanted a kid, so now's a good opportunity!" For at least three hours now, Ironhide had been nagging at Ratchet to have a sparkling but the tough old medic refused to give in. Ironhide had resorted to threatening to steal and hide all of Ratchet's medical equipment... which ended in several wrenches flying into his helm at warp speed.

"No, Ironhide, it isn't." Ratchet sighed, putting down the datapad and swivelling the chair to where Ironhide was perched on the desk. The mech rubbed his optics before venting deeply.

"I had hoped I would never have to bring this up, Ironhide, but now you want a kid looks like I'll have to." Ratchet started, his tone already beginning to make Ironhide frown.

"Tell me what?"

"Ironhide, I am, to put it plainly, infertile. I can't spark you and I can't be sparked." Ratchet couldn't bring himself to look at his mate, instead choosing to bore holes into the floor. Ironhide just stared, speechless. It was true; while Ratchet could interface, he could never be sparked. Cybertronians carried a type of coding within them, Sire or Carrier. Sire coding allowed one to spark another, while Carrier coding allowed one to carry the sparkling. Except Ratchet had neither. His words were like a stone to Ironhide's spark.

"Y-ya c-can't have k-kids?" Ironhide just managed to get out before collapsing onto their berth, his mind going into overdrive with ways to get around the problem.

"No, Ironhide, I can't." Ratchet sat by his mate, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "I'm sorry." Ironhide nodded, his chassis and mind dimming at what he had just heard. His own mate couldn't have children? There must be some way around that. Ironhide searched his databanks for anything, his searches coming back with nothing.

"Ironhide? Are you ok?"

"Ah'm... Ah'm ok Ratch'..." he replied numbly, no emotion in his words. Ratchet sighed and switched off the lights, laying back down on the berth next to his mate.

"Come on, 'Hide, get some recharge. We got stuff to be getting on with tomorrow." Ratchet coaxed, gently tugging at the red mech's arm. The weapon specialist just blinked before laying down as well, staring up at the ceiling for hours on end while his mate slept soundly.

"Nah nah, ya gotta put more effort into it kid! Ya gotta aim for th' target, not just shoot willy-nilly at it!" Ironhide barked at the soon-to-be sharpshooter.

"I'm tryin' sir! But the gun's too heavy! I can't line it up!" the youngling whined back, clicking on the safety before dropping the gun to his side. Ironhide growled at the youngling.

"Ya gotta try! Even if ya can't do it, ya still gotta try!" The youngling just huffed and hefted the gun again, his arms protesting at the weight and bulk of the gun. He lined up the infrared dot and fired again at the target, once more missing it. Ironhide rolled his optics and 'assisted' the youngling with his practise. Several more times he aimed and several more he missed. Soon, Ironhide's patience had worn thin and he dismissed the training. He just sat at the side, watching the trainee scamper away to freedom. The weapon specialist sighed and started cleaning up his cannons, his processor still mulling sadly over their conversation last night.

"I'm infertile, Ironhide, I can't have kids"

"You can't?"

"No, I'm sorry..." The door slammed, bringing Ironhide back from his thoughts; the red mech's optics snapped to the door. Nothing there.

"Hmm..." Ironhide pondered, shrugging and going back to polishing his plasma cannons.

BANG!

Ironhide jumped again, drawing his own guns at the second noise of the door slamming. Only to be confronted by a white medic. An unimpressed white medic.

"And I suppose that is how you now greet everybot?" Ratchet humphed, pushing the guns away from his face.

"Uh... no... sorry Ratch'..." Ironhide said sheepishly, subspacing the guns again. "Ya got off shift early t'day?"

"Yes, 'Hide, I have. Alpha Trion doesn't need me for the rest of the day so I got the day to myself." Ratchet said, resting his hands on his hips. Seeing Ironhide's face he then said, "Why don't we go for a wander,? Take your mind off things?"

"Hm? Oh... yeah sure... c'mon then..." Ironhide said in a somewhat distracted manner, replacing the cannons back inside their cases and leading Ratchet from the shooting range.

Ratchet just laughed as his mate stood still, trying to outbalance the saboteur.

"C'mon, mech , ya got no chance o' beatin' me!" Jazz chirped, performing a flip on the tightrope-like wire. Ironhide just growled back, wobbling on his wire.

"Ah'm gonna beat ya Jazz, just ya watch me!" Ironhide said, gritting his denta in concentration. Jazz performed more flips until Ironhide slipped from his wire and fell spectacularly to the ground in a heap of red. Jazz and Ratchet both burst out into fresh fits of laughter, Ratchet moving forward to help his mate to his pedes again and waving Jazz a goodbye.

"Told ya so!" Jazz shouted after the two retreating mechs, laughing and going on his way.

"I hate that kid... so darn annoyin'..." Ironhide grumbled, rubbing his aft and wincing. Ratchet just rolled his optics with a laugh.

"Well why did you agree to that bet then? That's two-hundred credits you owe him now!" Ratchet scolded playfully, rubbing his mate's helm. Ironhide smacked the hand away, glaring at the white medic.

"Yeah but at least it ain't four-hundred! Had I agreed ta that last one, we'd be owin' him exactly that!" Ironhide growled as he walked, shooting Ratchet a glare.

"... Good point..." Ironhide's bad mood then dropped as he started laughing, receiving a playful glare and whack on the arm from Ratchet. Ratchet just shook his head and turned down an alleyway, a shortcut back to their home, making Ironhide run to catch up.

"Whatchya do that fer?" Ironhide asked when he caught up, confusion in his optics. Ratchet just smirked back.

"Shortcut." Was the curt reply. A whine then drew their attention elsewhere, both mechs stopping in their tracks.

"What was that?" Ironhide said quietly. Ratchet only shrugged in response, just moving off to continue down the alley when a short cry drew his attention to a box at the side of the alley. The medic cautiously moved closer to it, preparing himself for whatever may jump out. A whimper told the medic that it was afraid... whatever it was...

"Ironhide!" Ratchet cried out, making the weapon specialist jump.

"What? What is it?" Ironhide said alarmed, rushing to the medic's side then staring as his mate pulled out the form from the box, Ironhide's mouth agape in horror and surprise. In Ratchet's arms was a tiny sparkling, one that had undoubtedly been left on the streets to die. It was obviously a mech, his optics looking up at the red and white mechs in fear and yet love; he was a little red and blue mech with two sky-blue optics that were glistening with tears. His little pedes kicked slightly in Ratchet's hold but his hands gripped the white armour lovingly, his audios pressed to Ratchet's chest as he listened to the medic's sparkbeat. His helm was the same blue as his pedes with two little antennae on the sides. The sparkling's face was lit with fear and a slight smile as he came to remember the sparkbeat of the mech holding him, his optics closing slightly as he began to relax. Ratchet stroked the sparkling's helm and smiled as the little one began to slip into recharge.

"H-How? Wh-what?" Ironhide stammered, trying to comprehend as to why somebot would just leave an innocent sparkling in a dark and dingy alleyway to die.

"I don't know 'Hide..." Ratchet murmured softly as the sparkling recharged in his arms, gently shifting the sparkling to a more comfortable position when a note fell from his back and floated to the floor. He nodded to Ironhide as the red mech picked it up and frowned.

"It don't say who left 'im 'ere..." Ironhide puzzled, re-reading the note again and again.

"'Hide, just read it out already!" Ratchet nearly snapped, his mate doing so.

To whomever may find this,

I entrust to you the guardian-ship of my son. He may be young at this time but he will eventually understand why I left him. I cannot look after him any longer for my brothers would disagree and attempt to dispose of my son, something I could not bear to happen. So I leave it to you, my friend, to look after him for me. He will give you no trouble for his spark is good and pure.

His name is Optimus.