Title: Human Holidays
Author: akisawana
Genre: Humor/Family
Disclaimer: Really, really not mine.
Warnings: Air Raid.
Notes: I really suck at titles.
Summary: Spike told the Aerialbots all about Father's Day.
Fireflight looked at his three brothers, and at the brightly-wrapped package Air Raid held. "What's going on, guys?"
"Today's Father's Day," Skydive explained. "It's the day humans honor their creators. So we want you to take this," he indicated the box, "to Optimus Prime. Because he is our creator."
Firefight nodded. "Okay, I'll come with you guys!" he chirped, and stood up.
"Oh, no," Air Raid said, handing him the box. "You're going alone."
"Alone?"
"I certainly ain't having anything to do with it," Slingshot snorted.
"That's because he'd think it was a joke if you were there," Skydive pointed out."Anyways," Air Raid said, "you're so cute, he'll have to love it." Fireflight preened under Air Raid's praise, and they hustled him down to Prime's office before he could ask more questions. With a quick clap on his shoulder and two whispered "luck!" in his audios, Fireflight was left to wait, alone, outside the office of the Bearer of the Matrix himself, with a mystery present.
He hoped it wasn't another box of snakes.
His brothers had timed it well; Fireflight wasn't out there for more than five minutes before Optimus Prime came out. The leader of all Autobots seemed surprised, but pleasantly so, to see the jet standing there. "Fireflight," he said kindly, "can I help you with something?"
"Um. Uh. Well, today's the Earth holiday for honoring your creator," Fireflight stammered, "and we, we got you this." He thrust the box at Prime.
Prime took it graciously. "Thank you," he said. He unwrapped it carefully, tucking the ribbon and paper away into a subspace pocket. Inside the long white box was a mech size ribbon that, when Prime held it up, Fireflight recognized as something human males wore for all occasions that were not casual.
It's traditional, Air Raid whispered over the radio. The other three were probably just around the corner.
It's hideous. The tie was navy and red and garish, some sort of paisley vomit. "It's supposed to be traditional," he said, inwardly horrified at the disaster. Are you pranking him?
Spike said it was supposed to be ugly.
"It's lovely," Prime said. "Thank you, very much."
"We wanted to thank you," Fireflight started babbling, "for, you know, creating us, and all the times you stood up for us and, uh. Thanks. A lot," he finished, wishing for a Decepticon attack or volcanic eruption or herd of angry Dinobots. Prime smiled at him. "You're very welcome," he said, pitching his voice so the ones around the corner could hear as well. "All of you. I know you're there." Air Raid, Slingshot and Skydive came around the corner, more than a little bashfully, which wasn't surprising, followed by Silverbolt, which was. "Of every title I could claim, from Bearer of the Matrix to The One That Made Ratchet Throw His First Wrench, my favorite one is your creator. You five have become fine, upstanding mechs, and I am very proud of all of you."
The Aerialbots hadn't been expecting this. Awkward thanks, perhaps, or Prime thinking it was a joke, or a quick smile and a pat on the head, or anything but Prime telling them he was proud of them –them, the single most concentrated point of neurosis in the lunatic asylum called the Ark! They shuffled and mumbled for a few seconds, then Silverbolt saluted Optimus Prime smartly. "Thank you, sir," he said, and all his brothers followed suit.