This is a much older fic that I wrote about a year or so ago, but upon rummaging through my archives, decided to post here. I mean, what the Hell, why not. However, it was written for a winner at LJ's help_haiti auction with a different pairing than the one involved. This one is spruced up and removes that pairing. However, I must insist this isn't necessarily a rewrite as it is an alternative piece. Like, "choose your next adventure," only with pairings. As such, the original can be found on my LJ if you are interested.
Title: Baby Makes Three
Rated: PG-13
Warnings: minor sexuality and profanity
Pairing: Sam/Mikaela (original is Sam/Bee)
Summary: Sam and Bumblebee find an abandoned sparkling on a fallen Autobot ship. And the best option for its survival...
Notes: This is a bit of an AR (alternate reality or AU, if you prefer), though it takes place a couple years after RotF and, naturally, assumes the events of Dark of the Moon do not happen or are altered.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Maybe the sparkling?
The Autobot supply ship had been lucky to hit the Arizona desert, away from civilization by thirty-two miles.
If their fortune had not yet run out, everyone was alive and accounted for; at least, they hoped. When Sam, Bumblebee and a crew of Autobots arrived at the scene, it wasn't very pretty. The ship was nearly three/fourth the size of a typical sea cruiser, its back end riddled with holes, gun shots and laser blasts, releasing clouds of thick smoke high into the air. Her nose had met the ground first, bent inward from harsh pressure upon impact. Liquid was pooling everywhere, thick black rivets like ribbons expanding into the brown sand.
Of course the rescue operation of the supply vessel had to be rudely interrupted by the Decepticons who had all ready saw to its downfall. There were six of them, all revving and ready to go, their guns still blazing. Luckily, the Autobots had them outnumbered - nine to six, Sam included. Optimus engaged with Acid Storm, Sideswipe with Soundwave, Ironhide with Thrust; Arcee, Chromia and Moonracer separated to tackle Astrotrain, Thundercracker and Lockdown, respectively. Ratchet, Jolt, Bumblebee and Sam took to the wreckage, to salvage whatever and whomever they could find.
The supply ship had been carrying weapons as well as soldiers to help aide the Earth stationed Autobots, ever since an armada of new Decepticons had arrived. According to the ship's log and information passed between both groups, there was to be at least twenty men on board.
"We'll separate into two groups of two," Ratchet ordered. While normally Sam would have gone with Bee, the CMO recommended at least one physician be among each parties. Sam parted with Jolt to the opposite end of the ship. Everything was sparking, short circuiting, electricity flickering on and off, hardly a single computer or device on the ship running. A few of the ship's crew laid out in the corridors, apparently having either been running to the escape pods or out into battle. All of them dead.
Wading through the destruction, they found a total of five Autobots. At the bow of the ship, the damage was less extensive, and each had managed to survive. They were all offline, four suffering from minor bumps and bruises, so to speak. It was only the captain of the ship who remained in critical condition, bleeding energon out from a large gash across his abdomen. Jolt immediately knelt before the offlined 'bot, working on stopping the hemorrhaging before gathering spare, discarded parts to patch the gaping wound up.
Sam commed Ratchet as he wandered back down the hall. "Couple down the hall here, all goners. We've found five others, however. All unconscious but alive," he explained. "I'm going to check out the other rooms, see if I can find anyone else."
We've found ten ourselves. Six dead, one wounded, the others alive but disoriented. We are returning with the survivors at starboard.
"Jolt's patchin' up the captain," Sam informed. "He said he'll recover, but probably won't be online for a few days."
Understood. Do you need assistance?
Sam tittered, peeking into an empty room. "Well, I can't exactly drag these guys to our rendezvous point," he said.
I will send Bumblebee once we are finished.
"Roger." Sam cut the link before carefully climbing over the leg of one rather large Autobot. However, just as he stood back on firm ground, there came a violent tremor of an explosion outside that caused the ship to creak and groan. The ground and walls vibrated hard enough to send Sam reeling clumsily in a flail of arms forward. He tripped over an uprooted twist of wiring, collapsing with an almost girly shriek into another room.
The commotion caused the small room's lights to flicker. A transmission was coming through and Sam answered with a small, pained, "Yeah?"
Sam. It was Jolt. I heard your cry.
He heard that? Goddammit. "I'm fine," Sam assured, propping himself on his elbows. "Just had a nasty spill."
Good. Ratchet contacted me a nanosecond ago. I'm almost finished with the captain.
"Right, okay." The link ended. Sam sat up slowly, rubbing at his lower back which met the ground first. He looked around the room; it had the description and similarities as someone's personal quarters. Who it belonged to remained a mystery, however. "Nobody's home," he mumbled and gathered to his feet. However, as he went for the door, he could have sworn he heard a strange, scuttling noise behind him.
Sam stopped at the doorway. He looked back into the quarters, scanned the area. Nothing, not a single noise besides the lights buzzing on and off above. Figuring it was just the ship's malfunctioning, he went to leave for a second time.
Only the sound came again, and louder.
Sam turned quickly. Okay, whatever it was, it sounded much too close. And not like any of the noises he had heard thus far on the broken down ship. "Any-anybody?" he called, nervously moving back inside. "Anybody in here?"
There it was again. A distinctive... chirping noise.
"If... If there is someone in here, I'm not going to hurt you," Sam explained, raising his hands in a show of harmlessness. "Your ship - well, it sort of crashed. I'm here with the Autobots on Earth to rescue you and your crewmates. We're - we're trying to take you to safety from the Decepticons outside. So... If you could just..." He paused, licked his lips. "... Show yourse-"
Sam gave another gasp accompanying an "oh shit!" when he saw something from the corner of his eye skitter out from under a desk. It moved fast, a flash of silver, and he barely just caught the end of it crawl under the berth. Sam chewed his bottom lip. "S-So there is someone here, then..." A loud gulp. Whatever it was, it was small and, well, he could handle it. Right? Right. Slowly, Sam gathered on his hands and knees, half of his brain telling him this was a stupid idea and it would jump on his face and stick its tail down his throat and lay an egg in his chest and these were Autobots, not xenomorphs!
Carefully, he lowered himself. "Don't be afraid," he murmured. He was the one creeped out. He ducked lower until his chest met the cold, shaky floor. "I'm not gonna hurt you..." Eyes narrowed, Sam peeked under the bed, scanned along its length before he spotted the creature huddled up at the far end. It was shaking, perhaps the size of a large cat from this distance, curled into a ball. But Sam did make out one giant blue optic peering beneath a limb at him with horror and confusion.
Immediately, Sam felt the tension and fear rise off his shoulders. This was, strangely enough, a sparkling. Why it was on board a weapon and military vessel... Either way, from what he had seen and been taught, this sparkling couldn't be more than a few months old. Sam smiled warmly. "Hey, little guy, how you doin'?" he chuckled, keeping his distance.
The sparkling remained in place, staring with one big optic.
"I'm not gonna hurt ya, kid," Sam assured. He caught the Autobot insignia on the child's back plating. It obviously recognized Autobots as friends. "You're an Autobot," Sam said, and pointed to the pin on his shirt. The Autobot symbol, an honorary badge bestowed upon him by the Optimus Prime himself. "See, I'm an Autobot too, see? See? You know Optimus Prime? We work together. We're buddies." He shook the badge at him, grinning all pearly teeth.
Sam had expected the sparkling to slowly unwind, make his way shyly, nervously to Sam's hand like a beaten puppy. Baby steps, he figured, baby steps. But the moment the sparkling saw that badge and heard the name of the Autobot leader, it burst forth from under the bed and latched onto his face with a shrill, relieved cry.
Sam rolled back, tugging at the clinging creature. "Holy shit!" he cried into its chest before managing to scramble on his feet. He yanked the sparkling off, risking loosing a chunk of hair. Holding the baby at arms length, he finally got a good look at it. A typical sparkling, it was in protoform stage, boasting alt mode features of a standard Cybertronian vehicle. Its eyes were huge and baby blue, and in five digits it held a clump of brown hair. It had an almost humanoid face, and there was certainly a big smile.
The boy took a moment to catch his breath. "Well, it's good to see you're out of your shy stage," he tittered. The sparkling titled its head. "Do you... understand what I'm saying?" There was no response or indication of 'yes' or 'no.' Well, it wasn't surprising the baby didn't understand an alien language at only a few months.
Loud footfalls neared the door, sending the sparkling in Sam's hands to once more writhe and shriek with fear. He tried to keep the baby at bay, but it loosened itself enough to leap onto his face again.
"Sam!"
Recognizing that voice from anywhere, Sam managed to push the sparkling planted on his face aside just enough to see Bee's head poking into the room. "Oh thank God you're here," he said, voice muffled behind steel. The sparkling shot a wild, terrified look at Bumblebee, but upon recognizing his blue optics, instead of the evil red, and the Autobot symbol, he slowly relinquished his hold.
Bumblebee assessed the creature. Though his vocalizer had been beyond repair, he managed to grunt and rasp out a few words in Cybertronian. Whatever they were, the sparkling seemed to have liked or accepted them. Bouncing off Sam's face, the child scampered up to Bee, and began speaking rapidly in Cybertronian. The larger 'bot squatted to listen closely, nodding or shaking his head every few seconds.
Sam wiped off his face. "What's it saying, Bee?" he asked, walking over. It sounded almost like a buzzing mosquito.
Bee didn't answer until the sparkling was quiet. Said a few more jumbled, broken sentences before looking to Sam. "Congratulations! It's a baby boy!" he said. The sparkling tilted his head at the new voice coming from the giant.
"Boy, okay. How old is he?" Bee rose four fingers. "Months?" Shook his head. "Weeks?" That earned a nod. Sam winced. The sparkling was the size of a five year old human child for God sakes. "Did he tell you who his parents are? Were?" Hopefully they were the former.
"Gestation," Bee answered.
From what Sam knew of gestation pods, there was no clear parent, just a mixture of CNA engineered to create a unique and specific Cybertronian. "Why is there a kid on a military vessel?" he asked.
"Beats me, Claude," the yellow Autobot answered with a shrug.
"Well," Sam sighed, "does he have a name?" Bee shook his head and earned another sigh. "He must have a creator on board here somewhere. I guess we'll see if Ratchet can figure something out."
Bumblebee stood his full height, causing the sparkling to wobble back a foot. "He won't hurt you, remember?" Sam assured, walking carefully behind him. The sparkling glanced back at the human, still apprehensive. "We're going to take you to our friends. We've got a doctor. He'll patch up owies." And God he was sounding like his mother.
The infant looked from Sam to Bee then to the floor, considering his options. Finally, he turned to Bee and nodded. The larger Autobot reached out a hand, carefully scooping the sparkling up before leaving with Sam to find the others.
IIII
"He was smuggled on board?"
Ratchet looked up from the sparkling, finishing his diagnostic scan. "One theory, that's what I said."
"Smuggled like..." Sam's wrists twisted, as his brain tried to come up with a reason why a baby was brought on board for no apparent reason. "... Like a drug or something?"
"The second officer, Kickstart, informed me a member of the crew had found the child an orn after departure packed in the loading dock and served as his caretaker," Ratchet explained.
"Where are they now?"
"They were among the causalities," the medic answered solemnly.
Sam frowned. "... Well, did Kickstart tell you who brought him on the ship?" He nodded to the sparkling, who was wriggling uncomfortably on the medical bed.
Ratchet shook his head. "Unfortunately, they never found whomever placed his gestation pod on board," he answered, "Kickstart and the others believe that he was abandoned. Or whomever smuggled him onto the ship was or is not willing to confess. In all likeliness, he probably was abandoned."
"A great place to drop your kid off, yeah," Sam snorted. So the kid's creator had just tossed him out and his only caretaker was dead, leaving him an orphan. "Brilliant," he grumbled out loud. Bee looked to him, confused. Sam waved a hand at the baby. "So, what do you guys do with, uh... Well, there's not exactly a robot orphanage around here..."
The CMO tucked away the exposed CPU wiring on the sparkling he had used to divulge for information. "We will have him transported back to Cybertron once another vessel is due for departure," he explained.
"Seven days..." Bee replied ominously.
Sam blinked. "Why send him back? Not when Cybertron is worse off than - " Suddenly, it hit him, like a foot to the brain. His eyes lit up with sudden sympathy and he looked carefully at the chirping sparkling. "No, he wasn't abandoned. Not - well, not in a cruel sense. Whoever smuggled him on board... They probably did it so he could be taken away from danger. Probably thought he'd be taken somewhere nicer, or at least, not so full of Decepticons and destruction."
Ratchet stroked his chin a moment. "That could possibly be one reason," he agreed.
Bee walked up to the child, where they met optic to optic. Sam noticed just how interested the both of them were in each other. Perhaps Bee was not accustomed to kids, or perhaps it had just been so long... "So if that's the case, and that's just if," he continued, beginning to pace the giant medbay, "then sending him back to Cybertron would be a grave mistake."
"We are not exactly in any position to tend to the needs of a hatchling," the CMO explained. "We, too, are at war and there is no place for him. It is not only dangerous, but he would not be getting the vital attention he needs."
All too true. Sam took a moment to think, let Ratchet's words sink in. Bee gave the small sparkling a poke, and earned one back. Before Ratchet and Sam knew it, they were poking and prodding one another like small children. It did make them laugh a little. It was nice to see there was still something out there that could make them even smile, let alone laugh. And even though the child should not be used as a means to boost morale, it seemed wrong to just... ship him away.
On Earth, there was no room for him. On Cybertron, he'd survive a week tops.
"His chances here with us are better than on Cybertron, Ratch," Sam explained, voice soft, convincing. Ratchet considered them. "If anything, we've got a lot of Autobots here now. A lot of human supporters besides myself. I'm sure someone, maybe one of your nursing staff, could offer a hand?" The medic's face went sour at that, forcing Sam to quickly exclaim, "Or-or-or not, that's cool! But, you know, more often than not you guys have me hang around here than join most of your missions. My work with the engineers and outside the base won't be a problem."
He couldn't believe he was going to say this, but - "So leave him in my care," he said. Both Bumblebee and Ratchet shot him surprised, wide optics. Sam took a deep breath. "I mean, I know I'm not exactly father material, yeah, but... I can at least help raise him a bit. My parents would probably even accept him as a grandkid, I don't know," he laughed lightly. His eyes met pleadingly with Ratchet's. "But I can't let him just be shipped back to Cybertron. You and I both know that's sending him blindfolded and bound right into a firing squad."
Ratchet had been quiet for the moment, before shaking his head. "Boy, I know exactly what it means, and I hate it," he grumbled bitterly, "but to take in a child, especially one not of your species - "
"You know it's not uncommon for humans to take in wild animals and raise them like family," Sam interjected. "I mean, Michael Jackson had a chimp..."
"This sparkling is more than a 'chimp,' Sam."
Sam drooped. "I know, I know, I'm just saying..." He looked over to Bumblebee. "I mean, what if Bee helps out?"
Bumblebee blinked, pointed to his face. He made a soft noise that sounded vaguely like a curious 'me?' "He'd be a great dad. He and the kid are all ready hitting it off," he insisted. The sparkling had crawled up onto the yellow Autobot's shoulder now, tugging on an antenna. Bee gently swatted at him.
Sam looked back to Ratchet, eyes big and pleading and hopeful. The medic winced; damn, humans had this strange way of convincing the most stubborn of creatures with just one look they called 'puppy dog eyes.' "You told me that sparklings grow up fast, you know?" Sam reminded. He pointed to the baby, which was now swinging from Bee's stretched arm. "So in, what, a few more weeks, he'll be an adult?"
Ratchet was still trying to recover from indecision. "It is true, yes," he mumbled, "but at his current age, his ability to learn your culture and language will be much slower. His thought processors and CPU are capable of registering our language, but to attempt downloading all of Earth's information at once would shell shock him, possibly damage his circuitry."
"So we can take it one step at a time?" Sam chuckled. "My mom used to say, 'one spoonful at a time.' Small doses, feeding him bit by bit. He's not human, so basically you just, what, plug him into a computer and give him some websites on history or something?"
Ratchet scowled. "It's more complicated than just 'plugging him in,' but essentially, that works." He shook his head again. "This will be a strain on everyone, you know. Handling a child during wartime."
Sam nodded. He understood, he sincerely did. "We'll do our best with him, Ratch," he assured.
Bee plucked the sparkling in both hands and approached the medic. "Can we keep him?" he asked, letting the child slip from his fingers and climb on top of his head.
Ratchet exhaled long and loudly. "Fine," he grumbled. Bee and Sam bumped their fists gently together. Ratchet didn't know what that meant, maybe something to do with victory. But he was quick to cut that victory short. "Besides, in the end it's not my decision to make," he informed and sure enough, both of them looked suddenly at a loss. "You'll need to take this up with Optimus."
IIII
It took some minor convincing for Optimus to finally allow the child's stay. Sam and Bee assured him the sparkling would not interfere with their usual business. Twirl and her fellow Cassettebot had even stepped in, offering their services if needed. It was apparent the two femmes loved the little sparkling, intent like old biddies to hug and kiss and pinch his metal cheeks. Firestar dragged them away, but also extended a helping hand if need be.
Optimus eventually relented upon agreeing sending the orphaned sparkling back to a war ridden Cybertron seemed like a fate worse than death. No doubt he would die hardly a few days after returning. The Autobot army had grown considerably since the battle with the Fallen nearly two years ago. Bumblebee was Sam's guardian, and his job mostly required him beside the boy instead of the battlefield. They weren't short of soldiers, so in the end, it seemed fair.
"Remember," Optimus had told them when the lecture was all over, "this sparkling is not a pet. He is like your Earth children. He is a big responsibility. Treat him as such."
Sam assured him he understood completely. Besides, the sparkling would be an adult within a few months or so, or at the very least, a teenager. It wasn't like this was a permanent situation. Everything would be smooth sailing.
IIII
Except it totally wasn't.
Over the past few days, the sparkling had grown a few inches, learned a handful of Earth history as well as some English. He still preferred Cybertronian, however. The infantile Autobot was definitely a handful, mot definitely a child, demanding, wanting every second of the day focused on him.
And it didn't seem like he was content with any of the names Bee and Sam offered.
"Oh, shit, God-!"
Sam threw up his arms when he entered his base quarters. The sparkling had nearly destroyed it completely, bed upturned, dresser tossed over, clothes and objects and papers littered across the floor. Bee stepped up behind him, peering into the room with wide optics. The child himself had settled on rummaging through all of Sam's old college books, siting on a pile as he carelessly flipped through the pages.
"Chittychittybangbang!" Sam exclaimed. It was one of the many names he had tossed at the sparkling in hopes it would attach. But the child simply ignored him, obviously refusing such a ridiculous alias. "You can't just - what are you - I don't even -" he sputtered. He quickly made his way to the sparkling, picking up things along the way. A calculator, a pair of boxers, even an old photo of him and Mikaela posing in front of a dead Decepticon in Berlin, before stepping behind the tiny 'bot.
"I hope to God you didn't rip out the papers to build airplanes," Sam scowled.
Bee wagged a finger at the child. "Baaaad, baaaaad."
The sparkling stood then, holding up a book. It was one on the English language and syntax. Suddenly, he shouted, "Glyph! Glyppphhh! Glyphs!"
"Glyph?" Sam and Bee repeated in unison.
The sparkling nodded. "Glyph!" he exclaimed, shaking the book. "Glyph! Like Glyph!"
Sam was going to ask just who the Hell was Glyph when he remembered. Ah, typography terminology. "Yeah, glyphs, they're uh - they're cool?" Well, what else could he say?
"Gylph!" the sparkling chirped. "GLYPH!"
"Man you really like that word," Sam chuckled. An idea overcame him and he looked to Bee.
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" the yellow Autobot asked, apparently on the same wavelength.
Sam nodded and turned back to the sparkling. "So, how about it? You want us to call you Glyph?"
"GLYPH!" the sparkling shrieked.
"All right, all right!" Sam laughed, hands in the air. He smiled. "Glyph it'll be." With that, he plucked the book from his hands. "Now how about you -"
"I am GLYPH!" Glyph cheered. He pointed to Sam. "You are MOTHER!" He pointed to Bee. "You are FATHER!"
Sam gaped while Bee just repressed a snort-chuckle. "N-No! No! I'm - I'm not a mom," he sputtered, hand to his chest. "You know moms are - are the females. The ones who uh, who uh... Make? the gestation pods... or something."
Glyph reached to him, took his sleeve, tugging. "MOTHER MOTHER SAMOTHER."
Sam wrenched himself free. "No! Samother, oh God - no! C-Call me Sam. Sam is just fine. Or - or you can call me 'dad.'"
"He is FATHER-DAD," Glyph insisted, pointing to Bee. "BEETHER."
"Beether?" Bee echoed, head tilting.
Sam shook his head. "No, no, see," he said, raising his hands, "you can have... two fathers. I don't know about on Cybertron, but here you can have two uh, two parents of the same gender... application? Maybe not as common as, you know, mom and dad, but..." He scratched the back of his head, messing brown hair. This was probably going through one audio receiver and out the other. "Well, how about you just call us by our names? Sam and Bumblebee? Or 'Bee, if you want."
"Sam and Bumbee raise Glyph. Sam human. Bumbee me," Glyph said simply, "Sam and Bumbee are then Father and Father."
Well, at least he wasn't calling him 'mom' anymore. "Okay, well, if you're going to address us as your... fathers, maybe you can call me dad, and 'Bee - "
"Papa," the older Autobot chimed in.
"Okay, papa's fine."
"Paaaaapa," Glyph crooned at Bee, then to Sam, "Daaaad!"
Bee played a chorus of whistling and cheering. "Nicely done!"
Glyph broke into pearls of laughter. Sam smiled; he might just get used to this.
IIII
It had been a week after the sparkling was christened Glyph.
Glyph was now beginning to develop the intelligence of a ten year old. Speaking in more complete sentences, using an occasional big word or two. He was actually quite fond of learning, especially when it came to the fields of science. More often than not he was either studying or being awkward around the other, older Autobots. It was hard to mingle with the group when there was no one else his age around. But he made friends, became a soft spot for many of them, an eager little Autobot who dreamed of one day being useful enough to help fight the Decepticons.
Glyph still wasn't trained in fighting, defense and weaponry, and he still stuck to a Cybertronian alt mode. Ironhide had promised to mentor him when he was old enough to fully grasp the concepts of war and battle. And when he was at an age where Ironhide could handle him instead of this impatient, skittish creature now.
The human side of the Autobot family was wary of Glyph at first. N.E.S.T. operatives thought very much like Ratchet. But discovering the rapid growth of the youngling, both physically and mentally, as well as the hunger to take part in the war, it gave them some ease. The Decepticons weren't lacking in troops and they could use all the help they could get. Sam's parents even considered Glyph a bit of a grandson. Though Judy still insisted she'd get a grandchild made of flesh and bone and at least 99.9% human some day in the future.
"It's been so long since we last got alone time."
Mikaela smiled at the boy beside her. The two sat outside the quiet N.E.S.T. base, facing the mountains and a sky filled with stars. "Well," she said, "now that I'm on my break, we'll have much more time to spend together." She cocked a brow. "Dunno about alone, though."
Sam chuckled. "I hear ya. With 'Bee and the kid, man - I feel like I'm a 40 year old man." He shook his head. "Not that I'm complaining."
"Much."
The two laughed. "Yeah, well," he snorted, "at least I don't have to worry about hitting the books anymore. Tests and quizzes and perverted teachers asking you to sit in the front row so they can ogle at your breasts."
Mikaela rolled her eyes. "Considering your entire position against mine, that is a really weak defense." She sneered. "And I didn't know your teachers did that to you."
"That's not what I - well, whatever! I'm a hero!" Sam exclaimed, sitting upright. He flexed. "A hero that... hardly... anyone knows about, but! A hero nonetheless!"
Mikaela giggled. "Well," she said, slipping a hand over one of his. She moved in closer. "You're my hero. That's gotta be all that counts, right?"
Sam leered. "You want me to sing that Enrique Iglesias song or something?" They were face to face now, lips just barely brushing. His hand found her hip, fingers at the waistband of her jeans. "Cause I am a terrible singer, as you know," he murmured, noting the smoky look in Mikaela's eyes, half lidded beneath heavy lashes. "But... I mean... If bad singing... gets you off..." His voice trailed to a low murmur, and one of her hands was moving to his thigh -
"DAD!"
Sam could swear he heard the sound of a needle abruptly scratching a record to a stop in his head. He shrieked when Glyph's face was suddenly in fron of his, Mikaela having moved away. "Glyph!" he heaved.
Glyph wiggled between them. By this time, he was a foot or two taller than Sam. "I wanna stargaze too!" he whined. "You guys stargaze without me all the time!"
"It's..." It was more than stargazing, but explaining that to a kid, robot or not... "We were just about to head back to the base." He cast Mikaela an apologetic smile. She shrugged it off, however, and he couldn't tell if she was annoyed or not.
"You should be sleeping, shouldn't you, mister?" she teased and pinched a nodule on his head. Mikaela had insisted he never address her as a mother, but as 'big sis.'
Glyph pursed his lip components. "But," he whimpered and looked to the dark skies above, "you guys always seem to have fun when you stargaze cause when you come back you're both so happy and practically glowing!"
Sam's face was a feverish red. Mikaela stifled laughter against her fist, more amused than embarrassed. "It's - it's just that..." Sam was at a total loss of words.
Glyph just giggled. "Well, I'mma watch the stars too cause it seems like lots of fun and stuff!" he insisted, sitting firm in place. He was not going to move.
Sam grumbled lowly, "Stargazing tonight, Mikaela."
"Stargazing," Mikaela replied with a quirky raise of her brows.
So the two settled with indulging Sam's "son." Sam leaned back, attempting to get comfortable. Mikaela was relatively quiet. They looked at each other from behind the Autobot; Sam apologized wordlessly and she returned with an A-OKAY gesture. Glyph was smiling at the stars, waiting for something magical to happen which made the two so happy and cuddly when they returned to base. Finally, after fidgeting for a good moment or two, the young Autobot looked over to his human caretaker, cheekplates hot. "Um um um," he mumbled.
"What's up?"
Glyph gave his bottom lip a bite. Humans did it often when they were nervous or deep in thought. "Um," he murmured and scooted closer, "can I sit in your lap?" He remembered Lennox's daughter and wife visiting the base one day (albeit out of eye and earshot of their secret guests), and he let Annabelle sit in his lap while he pointed out and explained everything to her small, simple mind about the jets and planes.
Sam widened his eyes, his girlfriend choking on a breath of air. "W-What? No! You - you're too heavy!"
"I am not!" Glyph whined. His childish temper flared, the demanding side dominant over all others. "I'll prove it!" With a snort, he forced himself into his father's lap.
Sam flailed and writhed beneath him. "Oh God get off oh God my legs!" he cried. "G-Glyph! You're - you're too heavy!"
"Glyph!" Mikaela exclaimed, grabbing his arm. She tugged, half-laughing as she ordered him off. "You're gonna crush Sam, and I don't think papa will like that very much."
Sulking, Glyph climbed off the human, who was busy trying to get feeling back into his legs. He curled up and away from the two, arms folded over his chest. "Mm'not fat," he pouted.
IIII
As the months passed, Glyph quickly grew older and wiser. When he was the equivalent of a thirteen year old, Ratchet had informed the proud parents the aging process would decrease at a slower pace now, until finally one year to him was nearly a hundred to humans. And as Sam had discovered, Glyph's teen personality was not unlike a human's.
"Oooww!"
"Sit still!"
Sam entered the room, Mikaela alongside him. Glyph was sitting on the edge of his berth; at his current age, he was half the size of Bumblebee, having adopted the alt mode of a traditional teal and black Volkswagen. Bee himself was towering over him, digits carefully picking at his child's optics.
"Ouuuu!" Glyph whined terribly. "That hurts, man!"
Mikaela smirked at the sight. "Looks like your big bad baby boy got a booboo," she teased.
Sam scowled. "What happened here?" he demanded, moving to the Autobots.
Glyph wilted a little. "I was just trying to make small talk with Flareup when she smacked me in the face and dislodged one of my optic wir-owowow!"
"Ain't no Casanova," Bee snapped and finally reconnected the wire. He stepped back and gave his son a light slap upside the head. Glyph cursed, but remained bowing with shame.
Mikaela looked to her boyfriend. "If she slapped him," she said, "then he wasn't exactly asking about the weather..."
"You hit on her?" Sam asked.
"No!" the little Autobot exclaimed. He looked away. "Well, maybe a little..."
Bee quoted what Glyph had said: "'Baby, you're like a car door - I wanna slam you all night long.'"
Mikaela burst into laughter, while Sam gaped, torn between laughing and second hand embarrassment. Bee just shook his head and gave his son another pop upside the head. "Look, Skids and Mudflap told me femmes like that slag - err, stuff!"
"Skids and Mudflap are the last Autobots - the last people you wanna go to for girl advice, Glyph," Sam snorted.
Mikaela poked him in the arm. "Like you were some Romeo when we first met."
Sam blushed. "Hey, look, I was just - just winging it, okay? Testing the waters."
"Suuuure."
Sam pointed to his son. "Well, here's some advice," he stated, "never take advice from the twins again. Especially about picking up or treating women - femmes - whatever."
Mikaela stepped past him. "Nor should you have your daddy here give you tips either," she gibed. Sam blanched at her. She looked sweetly and kindly at the young Autobot. "I know what girls like to hear. Well, most girls. I happen to be one, you see. So if you ever need some advice about 'em, you should come to me. Trust me, I know women."
Sam swallowed. "That sounds -"
"Bite it."
Bumblebee helped the younger 'bot from the table. "Thanks, Mikaela," he tittered, "I'd really appreciate it." He rubbed his healing optic. "I didn't think it was that bad."
"Oh," Mikaela chortled, hands on her hips, "it was that bad."
The smaller 'bot frowned. "Point taken." Glyph sighed. "Maybe next time I'll try one I thought was rather clever." He cleared his vocalizer and quoted, "I wish I were a derivative so I could lie tangent to your curves."
Everyone stared, lost and confused.
Glyph slumped. "Or maybe just take her stargazing?" he suggested and Sam almost did a spittake on air. "Dad and big sis love to stargaze a lot."
Bee arched an optic ridge. "Stargazing?" He looked between the two humans.
Mikaela smirked. Sam planted his face in his hands. "Why..." he groaned with anguish.
END
A/N:
Glyph: Glyph's name and his scientific interest are taken from the canonical Autobot of the same name. Only, you know, he's not a femme. Glyph and Bee, in G1, share a similar body mold, so I thought it fit. I could have gone with Goldbug, but that name sounds silly. ;P