Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"…Therefore, by my calculations, the Iota-6 heat capacitor will reduce the cool down period after each usage of the electromagnetic pulse generator as well as decrease the chances of an overload that could potentially severely damage neuro-processors to the point of non-repair by sixty-five percent…"
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"…With this addition, patients will not have to wait long periods before surgery and we can reduce the risks for-"
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Hold on a nanosecond, Perceptor, I think we've got a rather distracted CMO on our servos," interrupted a gruff voice. The squeaking of chairs rotating towards the end of the long table ended the monotonous tapping. Cerulean optics fell on the lone figure before them: a large, red and white mech with his faceplates half hidden by a servo, optics staring guiltily at his staff before him whereas before they were incessantly watching the digital clock situated above the storage cabinet.
On most solar cycles he was focused, always on top of every meeting or medical emergency that passed through the Iacon Emergency Center. However, today was not like most solar cycles. Everyone at the table knew it. Their knowing smiles and playful gestures were enough to give the mech a hint of what they wanted.
He sighed, professionalism giving way to excitement as a grin stretched across his blue-gray face. "She's in the ward right now… due any moment, really."
"Shoot, then what are you doing here, buddy?" remarked one of the scientists, rising up from his chair to approach the lucky mech and give him a hardy slap on the back.
"My job," he replied sullenly. "I have a duty first to the 'Bots that need help here at the center an—"
"Psh, no," another of the staff interjected. "You have a duty first to yourself. That means being there for your family comes before being here for this meeting. Besides, we weren't discussing anything important anyway."
"I beg your pardon, but I believe that my suggestion is very important. I'll have you know tha—"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Percy."
A loud groan escaped the brilliant mech as he pushed his visor that was far too large for his small helm up the bridge of his nose. "What have I told you about calling me that? It is unprofessional, especially in the workplace.
"Listen to your good pal, Jacky," the scientist beside the red and white mech said, ignoring the rest of the staff who were now bickering over the proper way to address each other while they were working. It was a rather popular topic as they spent most of their waking cycles in the Center.
"If I listen to you, my aft will be fried. You practically took out the last intern we had here with that contraption of yours. What was it called again? The CyberAid 5000? I'm sorry, but if a 'Bot needs to have his vitals checked every ten minutes by a floating sphere prone to exploding at any nanosecond, then he needs more help than he thinks."
Laughter erupted from all around them and Wheeljack let out a huff, shuffling back to his seat.
"In all seriousness, though, Ratchet," Red Alert, one of his coworkers in the medical field, said, "Go and be with her. First Aid and I can take care of the rest of the meeting and your duties for a while."
"Yeah, take a few solar cycles off sir," the timid, white mech added in response to Red Alert's suggestion. "We can handle it."
Ratchet, the mech of whom all of these off-handed conversations centered around, looked to each of his staff members feeling guilt creep up his backstrut. The thought of the precious moments he was losing in debating this matter overtook that feeling in the end. He closed his optics, rubbing the back of his neck before submitting to his personal desires.
"Alright, I'm leaving," he said, standing up and shaking each of his staff's servos as they congratulated him on the soon-to-be new addition to his family. "But you better alert me if there's an emergency and you can't handle it. Got it?"
"Of course," they replied in unison, grinning at him as he collected his small pile of datapads and hurried out of the conference room. There was only one thought going around in their minds after the disappearance of their boss: an early lunch break.
"…So about the Iota-6 heat capacitors…" Perceptor brought up after a brief moment of silence.
An audible sigh filled the room and Wheeljack snagged the datapad that portrayed the new design of the EMP generator and its specs as well as costs and potential problems.
"Too expensive," he said before slapping it down on the table and swinging his arm around Perceptor's shoulders. "I think it's time you rewound a bit, Percy~ Lemme buy you a mug~"
Figures whizzed past the medic as he sped through the hallways, heading from the bowels of the IEC to the wards that housed pregnant femmes. He honestly couldn't wrap his processor around the idea that had been following him around for nine decacyles now. He, Ratchet, the Chief Medical Officer of the IEC, was going to be a father!
At first he was afraid, fearing that he wasn't ready for the responsibility that came with raising a sparkling. His expertise lay within the trauma center, not general healthcare, though he had studied enough throughout his years in the academy to know what to do for any situation. Maybe it wasn't about looking after the health of the sparkling, but its future. What if the sparkling ended up hating him? What if it wanted to be an energon farmer rather than a scientist or respectable job? Would he be able to accept that? What if it was a mech, roughhousing with his friends and liable to get into trouble all of the time? Or worse, what if it was a femme and he had to deal with the endless mechs she believed she was in love with, but he had to deal with her sparkbreak every time they left her?
These were selfish thoughts, really, but by the time he made it to the ward, they had all but dissipated in his mind. None of his worries mattered now. He was about to be a father to a beautiful sparkling and already the luckiest mech for being bonded to Arcee.
Stepping through the doors, he was ready to face the other expectant fathers sitting in the waiting room awaiting the news. However, there wasn't a mech in sight. No one was waiting and it looked like it had been that way all solar cycle. He paused, looking absolutely confused before one of the staff approached him.
"It's the oddest thing, right?" she remarked, gazing across the empty room. "We don't have high creation rates due to the tension with that rising, rebellious faction but this is unusual, creepy even."
He felt something tug at the darkest depths of his mind, afraid for something but he couldn't tell what. "Do you think it's an omen? Is she alright? Is the sparkling….?"
"Oh by the Allspark, no!" the femme replied, looking absolutely flustered. "I didn't mean to scare you, sir! There were some complications, but Arcee and the sparkling are just fine."
"Complications?"
"The sparkling wanted to come out the opposite way it was supposed to, but eventually turned around. They're both in the room waiting for you~"
He let out a sigh of relief, visibly shaking from the fear that had started to overwhelm him. "Right, yes, I'm going," he said before running down the hall and into the room that he had taken his bondmate earlier that morning.
Arcee was in there, lying peacefully on her berth with a little wrapped bundle in her arms. Her optics were dim, tired from exertion, but she wanted to wait until Ratchet got there to fall into recharge. When he popped his helm in to the room, she smiled weakly up at him and extended her servo, motioning him over to her side.
"I'm so sorry I'm late…" were the first words that came from him as he crossed the threshold into the room and took her slender hand into his. Using his foot, he rolled a nearby chair under him and sat there, grasping her servo in both of his and kissing her fingers tenderly. "I had no idea it had already come…"
"She," Arcee corrected, her smile growing. She didn't care if he was a little late (it had only been a few kliks at the most), she was just glad he was there.
His helm perked up at the mention of it being a 'she', optics brightening immensely. Arcee shifted her weight to the side, bringing the bundle in between them and pulling back the flap of material that covered the little sparkling's face.
It was the most precious moment of his life seeing the face of his beautiful sparkling femme. Oily tears welled up from the crevices beneath his optics, threatening to spill over down his face. Never before had he seen something so remarkable. She was so tiny, her nose, audio receptors, and optics about one-quarter the size of her mother's; her bottom lip jutted out slightly, nose twitching a bit from a dream she was caught in; her color scheme was of the most vibrant magenta and white, a product of his red and Arcee's pink. Tiny servos gripped at the fabric surrounding her small body, clinging to the warmth it offered and nuzzling its soft surface.
"By the Allspark…" the medic remarked, a tear streaking down the side of his face. "She's so beautiful."
"Would you like to hold her?" Arcee asked.
He glanced up at his bondmate, a look of surprise in his optics. For a moment, he had forgotten that this wonderful creation, this miracle was his. It was like looking through a glass at someone else's life. The sparkling femme was so perfect in every way, how could it be his? He wasn't in the least bit. However, he took that precious femme in his arms, the back of her head resting in the crook of his elbow as he cradled her to his chest. One large white finger trailed down the side of her soft cheek, hovering for a moment before the little femme began stirring. Whether it was from the movement into a new set of arms or that little gesture of affection, the sparkling woke up, little optics opening from slits to large, round cerulean blue oculars. To behold all of her face nearly did him in. She looked up at him curiously, helm tilted to the side before wriggling around in the blanket to get her servos free to grab his finger that floated near her face. He gasped, smiling warmly down at her as she wrapped her small fingers around his and laughing when she started chewing on it, looking up at him with those innocent optics that would become her trademark in stellar cycles to come.
"I think she's hungry~" he cooed, looking back over at his bondmate, who reached out her own servos to wipe away the tears on his face. He gently handed the sparkling back over to her as she removed an energon line from behind her neck and helped the small femme to wrap her mouth around it and learn to drink. It was a trait that both parents shared, but the mother usually was the one to do it.
Carefully, Ratchet climbed into the berth with his two femmes, wrapping an arm around Arcee's shoulders and stroking the helm of his sparkling.
"What are we going to name her?" he asked, kissing Arcee's cheek.
"Well…I… kinda liked the name Angelita," she replied, looking up at him hopefully. He pondered it for a moment, gazing down at his sparkling femme before giving a short nod.
"I like it. Angelita it is then," he said, smiling and leaning down to kiss the femme's helm. Angelita giggled, still sucking greedily at the energon from her mother until she fell back into recharge, wrapped in her parents' arms.
"Goodnight," Arcee whispered, "our little Angelita."