That human invention
Perceptor had gathered many interesting ideas from other civilizations in his long life, but he wasn't sure he wasn't going to regret his latest experiment with a human-made application.
Originally, it was intended to be installed on humans' hand-held communication devices, but it was easy and convenient to adapt to Cybertronian programming. Of course, first he made sure he'd be able to remove the program, eradicate it from his code lines. If anybot asked, he would only be able to pass on what he decided to share about his experience.
At first, he thought only humans used the app, but it was worth giving a try, so he did. For his preferences, he only set multiple alt modes. Not only because it was one of his secret kinks to interface while transforming together without seeing the partner's root mode, but also because it was perhaps the only attribute that could safely filter out organics from the list of registered users. He liked most of them, with the curiosity of an inventor, but for a mate, be it a one-night stand or not, he longed for the touch of another Cybertronian.
To his surprise, the system immediately popped up one potential partner. 'Abyss' was the username. Multiple modes indeed, considerable size parameters, but no other personal data. He left the "quirks" list empty, apart from the sole note that he wouldn't do sparks. Which was quite an obvious statement. The whole application was for finding partners, not determining one's entire future.
He composed a long introduction mail to 'Abyss'. He even asked Wheeljack to help him condense the text to make a better impression. His spark hurt when Jackie filtered out most of it, but his friend was right: if 'Abyss' was a Decepticon (which was quite likely) then highlighting his intelligence and creative ability would have turned him into a target or an abduction victim instead of a desired mate.
'Abyss' messaged him back only a klik later, tersely informing Perceptor that he was about two joors away from Earth, inviting him to choose the exact location on the planet. Perceptor picked the Arizona desert, because it was conveniently close to his and Wheeljack's laboratory, but safely away from current war zones or natives or anything else distracting.
Several hours passed before he returned to the Autobot base, low on energon and with numerous plates dented or broken, but incredibly sated and happy.
"So. Was it good?"
"Primus, Jack... He even found my tank mode arousing... No kidding he has multiple modes... So strong and enduring, I could do literally everything to him and he just laughed and demanded more and that's what he got. He pinned me down in his beast mode and I swear to you I could even feel his spark pulse on my back while we were 'facing. Then he transformed and broke my light cannon, and we laughed and he said that was the difference between the two of us, and we went on. Primus, it was good."
With that, Perceptor passed out in the middle of the hallway. Wheeljack dragged him to the nearest washrack to rid his friend's frame from oil, lubricant, smeared energon, and some of the clashing, mostly dark purple paint. By the look of him, Perce took part in some sort of two-mech orgy.
Well, their tastes were different.
The morning after, Perceptor onlined to a very uncanny feeling of imbalance. All his self-diagnostic protocols gave him contradicting data, and the only way that could have made sense if he was... well, carrying. But that was impossible. Perceptor decided to do a full reboot before starting the day.
Only it didn't help. After the third attempt, he still felt disoriented and unable to reach his transformation protocols. When he analyzed his own spark's pulsing, the beat of a second source inside his chest components was unmistakable.
"Jackie..."
"Yes?"
"Why do you think my frame demands that I... don't transform?"
"Considering also your doubled fuel consumption, high core temperature, and staring longingly up into the sky in Arizona's direction?" Wheeljack's cheerful words froze Perceptor's processor. He hadn't even noticed those symptoms.
"Jack, that's impossible." Perceptor stared at his racecar coworker. Science and facts were infallible certainties in his life, his own self-diagnostics were secondary. " I cannot be carrying."
"I think you'd better ask a professional, but to me, you seem to be. Perhaps he deleted some of your memories, but again, I'm no expert of that." Wheeljack's optics and ear-fins were glowing in thinly veiled anticipation. He loved sparklings. It'd been so long since he'd last seen one! This was due to change in a matter of months, but first he had to help Perceptor through the first shock of discovery.
"No, Wheeljack. All my memory files are intact..." (Oh, soooo intact!) "It's not that I can't remember doing sparks. I'm quite certain we didn't do sparks."
"Why?"
"His was hermetically sealed during a battle upgrade."
Decepticons, Wheeljack thought. Only a horrible, egoistical, mad and unfeeling 'Con could do that to a living mechanism. Locking a spark for medical reasons was already a morally questionable deed, but a lasting block was unacceptable.
"He'd agreed to that." Perceptor meekly pointed out, seeing his confidant's frown. "We sure as the Pit didn't merge sparks. So... What?"
Wheeljack turned to a list of old files, quickly scrolling through them. When he found what he was looking for, he sent the article to the research monitor nearest to them.
"Apparently, sparking-up only needs the donor's spark energy, not necessarily the entire spark to be merged."
"Yes, but it would take an insane dose of spark energy to make it past two mech's pectoral armors." Perceptor mused. His programming demanded an answer, and explanation. What happened, seemed to be unquestionable at this point. How it happened, was still to be answered.
Soundwave usually pretended to ignore what he overheard until he had the need to put the gathered information to some use. He didn't care whether Octane was watching the Playbot Show until he did so during a battle. He was unbothered when Trypticon started downloading snuff movies. But it was hard to turn away and pretend not to notice a high ranking Decepticon talking to some Earth-based Autobot on a private channel. Treason was common among Decepticons; backstabbing was to be prevented to minimize the loss. He needed careful timing to reveal his discoveries.
::So, umm...:: The Autobot turned out to be one of the researchers to whom Soundwave had never paid much attention. He would, from now on.
::Yes?::
::I need to ask. You don't happen to, by any chance, be a point one percenter, do you?::
It took Sixshot only a moment to figure out why his latest partner would ask this.
His bellowing shook the entire base as he announced the news. There was no way Soundwave or anybot could have missed it.
"I'M GOING TO BE A DADDY!"
.
.
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[Author's note: Quickswitch is a canon character. The second sixchanger, and the first to be an Autobot. He totally has Perceptor's colors.]