Author's Notes: Series of Ironhide/Will one-shots. This is the first, obviously. Stole the prompts from the fanfic100 community on LiveJournal, but I don't have an LJ, so…
This 'shot is set after the first movie, and before the second one. This is my first time writing Will and Ironhide, and my first time writing fanfiction in general. I hope it's at least slightly in character!
Disclaimer: Transformers isn't mine.
.b e g i n n i n g s
"And you are?"
Will Lennox looked up at an alien robot, hands on his hips as he did so. Granted, it wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence to talk to something more than five times bigger than you, but he was a soldier. Soldiers expected the unexpected, didn't they?
The robot (or was it Autobot? Was there a difference? Did it matter?) swiveled around to look at him, and Will found himself holding his breath as those blue eyes raked in his form. He felt that awkward moment when it seemed as if he was being scanned, which was likely, now that he turned and saw Opti-something-or-other giving that Wit-something-something kid the same look; and then the giant robot thing kneeled so they were somewhat at eye level.
Will tried not to dwell on the fact that the thing's face was almost as big as him.
"Ironhide." The voice sounded remarkably human, despite the fact that it came from a huge-ass metal being, and Will had to stop himself from looking bewildered. Ironhide would probably shoot him. Opti-with-the-flame-decals (he'd get the hang of these Autobot names one of these days, he swore to God!) had warned Will of his guardian's temper… and his ability to bring dangerous alien weaponry out of practically nowhere.
And, well, Will didn't want to be blasted into oblivion.
"Nice to meet you." Will held out his hand as he said this, but stopped, pulling it back. Chances are that his hand would have been crushed, and that was just… he could barely stifle the wince that danced on the edge of his tongue at the mere thought of it. "I'm William Lennox," he said, proud of himself for not having let those words turn into the tiny sound of pain. "But you can call me Will."
Something that might have been an eyebrow arched on Ironhide's face.
"… Your birthname is William Lennox, is it not?" Ironhide clarified. Will thought it a little unnecessary, but he nodded his head, anyway. "Right," he provided. "William Lennox. But, I reiterate, you can call me Will."
Was Ironhide squinting at him? Will couldn't tell. Why didn't Autobots have eyelids or the under-parts that Will never quite knew the name of?
"If your birthname is William Lennox, then why must I refer to you as 'Will'? It is like telling you my name is Ironhide, and referring to me as ''Hide'," the 'bot remarked, and his mouth-thing (Jesus, he was going to need some Alien Biology 101 classes, stat) turned into some robotic frown. Nevermind the fact that Will was just about to call him 'Hide, too. If Ironhide didn't understand the simple concept of nicknames, then Will wasn't going to bet his life on a gamble as to whether or not the weapons specialist would put a cannon to his face for calling him a one-syllable name.
Why did the kid have to get the cute, yellow, non-violent and possibly less dangerous guardian?
"It's a nickname," Will finally answered, and Ironhide's eyes (or were they optics?) flickered in what might have been considered a blink. "When you're fond of someone, you call them by a nickname. Sometimes, though, they tell you to call them by that when you first meet."
"I do not think I am fond of you." Ironhide's statement was blunt and to the point.
"Don't worry," Will promised. "The feeling's mutual."
For one reason or another, he couldn't help the tiny smile that flitted on his face. And for some other reason, he couldn't help but notice that Ironhide was smiling, too.
"It is good to know my human's processors are not completely fried," Ironhide said, and Will took that to mean something close to 'hey, I think I'm going to end up liking you after a while, and maybe I'll even call you Will one day'. The captain shrugged his shoulders, running his fingers through his hair, but the small smile that had been on his face curved up almost immediately into a grin.
"And it's good to know you're not just a trigger happy pyromaniac."
It took a few death threats before Will could finally call Ironhide by a one-syllable nickname.
But, to be honest, Will thought it was perfect.
