AN: Credit goes to Karategal and TheMoonlessNight for letting me borrow a few of their ideas. And yes, yes, there will be Optimus/Elita in later chapters. Bwaha.
Fallout
The sound of a car horn had Sam Witwicky sticking his head out of his bedroom window.
"Just a few more minutes 'Bee!" He bellowed, turning around to finish cramming several items in a duffle bag. It was Saturday morning, he had the next week off from school and due to rushing all his homework he was free to go by the Ark and hang out with the Autobots for the vacation. Mikaela was coming along; he had to pick her up from her grandmother's house right after he left. Outside Bumblebee grumbled to himself, sinking back on his wheels.
How many breems does it take to pack up one or two things? Of course he was slightly irritated, he'd been unable to recharge properly due to the party, Optimus had given him and Sam the boot right when the fun had started.
You can't handle High Grade very well, solider. Off with you both!
"Slag that." Bumblebee grumbled to himself. "Can't handle myself? I handle myself just fine." He gunned his motor in irritation.
"Got a problem?" The Camaro jerked in surprise, Ronald Witwicky was standing in front of him.
"Sorry sir. Just…" The chassis shrugged, or attempted to. "…Being my age…isn't much fun, sir."
"Ah. I wouldn't be in a rush to grow up if I were you." The human replied, patting Bumblebee's hood. "I know it's a drag, but trust me, once you're an adult, all you'll wish is that you were a little kid again."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Bumblebee muttered. Any response by Ronald was lost as Sam came running out of the house. "Finally!" The yellow Camaro opened the driver's side door.
"See you later Dad!"
"You check in every night with us, you hear?" Ronald yelled as Sam jumped in the driver's seat, the door slammed shut and Bumblebee sped out of the driveway. "And don't get into any trouble!" The blast of a car horn was his response, and the older man turned away, shaking his head.
"Teenagers…"
"Love ya, Grandma." Mikaela gave the older woman a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbing her own duffle. "I'll call you every night, okay?""You be careful sweetheart! And don't go staying up all night with your friends! You'll get those dark circles under your eyes and you won't be able to get rid of them!"
"Yes Grandmother." The teenager rolled her eyes as she closed the screen door behind her.
If she only knew just 'who' my friends were, I'd probably be grounded until Dad came back from L.A. A smile split her face as Bumblebee came roaring up, pausing long enough to open the passenger side door. Once both humans were inside, the Autobot gunned his engine, doing a 360 and tearing out onto the road, the song 'Harder to Breathe' blasting from the speakers.
The feel of something on his face jolted Ironhide out of a deep recharge.
"Huh?" Optic shutters opening, he woozily looked around the room he and Chromia shared. "What…oh." His gaze had rested on Nightfire, the little sparkling was sitting up, propped by his sleeping mate's chestplate. One little hand hovered in the air, and then resumed patting the warrior's mech's face. "Curious, huh?" As a reply, Nightfire brought her other hand to her mouthplate, starting to suck on her fingers. A small smile crossed Ironhide's faceplates, and he settled back down.
"See here-" He began, reaching out one finger for his daughter to grab. "This is something entirely new. Me and your mother here, we just liked to cuddle up next to each other if we woke up like this. But since you're sharing our recharge bed, well…" The sparkling clicked in delight and grabbed his thumb. "Yeah. When you get bigger, you're getting your own bed."
"Trying to make her grow up already?" Ironhide lifted his head, meeting the gleaming optics of Chromia. "I rather like our little arrangement here." The black mech smiled, pressing a kiss to his sparkmate's foreplate.
"Just letting her know what's going to be what when she gets older." Nightfire let loose a rapid string of clicks and eagerly grabbed at Ironhide's neck joint. "Go back to recharge. I'll feed our little darling here." As her systems came online, Chromia sat up and stretched.
"Too late." Setting both feet on the floor, she walked over to the small cabinet on the far side of the room. "I'll fix her Energon." To this there was no reply save for high-pitched squeaks and clicks, Nightfire had curled up into a ball and was trying to escape her father's tickling fingers on her sensitive wires, giggling like mad.
"Come here you little-ha! Got you!" Ironhide crowed, snagging his daughter by the scruff-bar and holding her up for more 'treatment'. "Coochy-choochy coo!" Nightfire squeaked in delight again, automatically curling up into a little ball. Her blue optics shone with adoration as she looked at her 'father'. "Aww.hey!" For Chromia had swiped Nightfire out of his grip.
"Breakfast." The silver-blue femme said. Seating herself on the recharge bed, she allowed Nightfire to grab the bottle and bring it to her mouthplate. "I must admit, this is a genius human invention. Easier than those 'sparky-cups' we have…"
"How did you get one that big?" Ironhide asked, one eye ridge lifted.
"Perceptor. The only adjustment he needed to make was to the fluid release….Nightfire, no, stay still!" For the sparkling was starting to wriggle violently in the femme's grip, one little hand on top of Chromia's own on the bottle. "You can't hold it on your own yet." Upset, Nightfire spit out the tube, squeaking and clicking in anger. Energon dribbled down her chassis as she slammed a fist against her mother.
"Hey hey hey." Ironhide rumbled, wrapping his hands around the sparkling's delicate frame. "Take it easy, you'll make yourself sick like that." Nightfire squeaked again, now gearing up for a full-blown temper tantrum. "Oh no you don't." The sparkling automatically curled up into a little ball, arms and legs tucking themselves in as Ironhide snagged her by the scruff-bar again and lifted her up. "No fits. You made yourself get sick yesterday throwing one…though with what happened, I don't exactly blame you." Watery blue optics met his gaze. "Oh no, no. Not that look. I'm immune to that look now."
"I'll clean her up." Chromia said, taking Nightfire from Ironhide's grasp. The sparkling gladly snuggled into her chassis, snuggling close to the sound of the femme's pump. "We have to meet with Ratchet anyway. And you need to talk to Prime."
"Right." Ironhide said relucently. "Primus, I would have told him but I…" He trailed off. "And he's probably thinking about Elita now, sla-" He stopped at the glare Chromia was shooting him. "…stuff…it. Yes. Stuff. Completely forgot." Nightfire got a kiss. "No cursing around the younglings."
"Out." Chromia ordered with a laugh in her voice. "We'll come by and see you later."
He couldn't believe his optics. Hound stared at what Chromia had in her arms, a little twitching bundle of dark-blue wires.
"…Is that a…" He started, pointing. "I thought the High-Grade had gotten to my holograms, but is that a real-"
"Yes, she is." Chromia responded, reaching for her own can of Energon. "Hound, meet Nightfire. Nightfire, meet Hound." The sparkling looked up at the green Autobot, clicking in curiosity.
"Talk about your wrecking balls…" This from Sideswipe, who was leaning in close to check out the tiny 'bot, his twin following suit. Sunstreaker eyed the sparkling, and then looked up at Chromia.
"At least she doesn't have her father's looks." The femme let out a crack of laughter.
"Now you need to stop that." She scolded. "Ironhide does not need all of you on his tailpipe."
"Lady!" Sunstreaker said. "Do you know how long we've been praying to Primus for something like this? Finally, something on Ironhide!" He held out a hand to Nightfire, who grabbed it, clicking away.
"Every time we try to process you sparkbonding with him-" A chorus of 'eww, Sideswipe' met that remark. "Our CPUS refuse to compute, and now you…having…done…" Sunstreaker made to bellow, but was stopped by Hound's hand slamming over his mouthplate. Chromia shot the red Twin a dirty look, lifting Nightfire to snuggle into her shoulder joint.
"In that case, I pity the femme whoever gets stuck with you as a sparkmate, she'll not want to touch you with a ten foot pole." Sideswipe opened his mouth to retort but was elbowed by his brother. Entranced by all the attention she was getting, Nightfire spun her little head around to look at all the mechs, clicking to Chromia in her excitement.
"A femme…" Bluestreak mused. "Talk about a stroke of luck, Chromia." The war on Cybertron had all but decimated the femme population, Autobot and Decepticon alike.
"I know." The silver-blue Autobot responded. "Primus willing, maybe it'll hold…" She gently stroked the sparkling's head, standing up. "Right now, we need to pay a visit to Ratchet."
Bumblebee?The Camaro's radio crackled to life. You there?
"Hey Jazz!" Sam said. "What's up man?"
Yo! Sam!
"Hi Jazz." Mikaela called, smiling.
"What's wrong?" Bumblebee asked.
Uh…something's…something big happened on the base man…
"Decepticon attack?" Sam asked, feeling his heart lurch and the sudden tensing of Bee underneath him.
No, no! It's…something else. A series of rapid clicking followed, Jazz having reverted to his native tongue to speak to the younger Autobot. Bumblebee clicked back in response, and Jazz replied. Dead silence filled the car, and then suddenly Sam and Mikaela found themselves flying forward as Bumblebee slammed on his brakes.
"Ah!"
"What the…Bee! What the hell was that?" More silence and Sam found himself getting worried. "Bumblebee? What's…WHOA!" For suddenly the Camaro had gunned its engine and shot down the road again at stop speed. "Bumblebee!! Aaaahh!!"
Ratchet clicked at Nightfire, who was being propped up on his examination table by one of Chromia's arms. A full recharge had reenergized him, at least enough to deal with any more issues over Nightfire's presence. And apparently a big one was en-route; Jazz had mentioned something about giving Bumblebee a warning.
That's not going to go over well. At least for starters.He clicked again at the sparkling, who squeaked in glee and fired a rapid set of her own clicks in response. A smile played around his faceplates at Nightfire's enthusiasm.
"Social little 'bot, is she not?" He said, marking something off on a computer pad.
"She loves attention." Chromia said.
"Of course. Such a pretty little sparkling." Ratchet replied, flicking Nightfire and having her squeak in response. "Have to make sure she's not spoiled rusted."
"We've already had her give us the weepy optics." The femme replied, laughing. "But her diet…" The yellow Autobot nodded.
"Yes. For starters, she needs to stay on the straight Low-Grade diet until she's half a vorn old." He started. "In fact, given our current situation, she might need to stay on it for the full vorn. Perceptor's done his best, but we need the additional CPU power of Wheeljack and First Aid to help figure out how to adjust Earth fuels enough for our intake."
"What about the Energon? The Earth-made ones?" Ratchet considered Nightfire.
"I think maybe the solar when she's the half-vorn. It's natural, has had the least processing. You and that bit-brain of a mate though-" The silver-blue Autobot looked up in surprise. "Yes, you two. You don't just run off and create a sparkling and expect to just plow along at full strength." Chromia started, optics widening. "At least you got some recharge in. No interruptions tonight along with a infusion of High Grade should take care of the rest." Nightfire giggled at the look on her 'mother's face, clicking rapidly at her.
"Ahem!" Chromia coughed, picking up the wriggling sparkling. "Yes, Doctor Hatchet. Anything else of the embarrassing nature you wish to air?"
"Can I assume her personality is the result of how…err…involv-"
CRACK.
The 'bay doors hissed open and closed as Chromia exited, a madly giggling Nightfire looking over her shoulder.
"Men!" She huffed. Behind her, Ratchet rolled over from his landing position on the floor, cackling as he lifted up one hand to feel a dent in his foreplate.
"I thought one of the rules was no violence in front of the youngling!" He yelled at the door, sitting up. "Primus, she can hit hard…"
"What do you mean you made a sparkling?! What about me?!" Ironhide dragged a deep breath of air in to help his already overworked cooling system, several breems ago Bumblebee had come tearing up the road, all but thrown out Sam and Mikaela, transformed and came roaring into the Ark.
Jazz is about to become a dead bot. Again."Bumblebee, it's not what you think." He began, struggling for patience. "This is something Chromia and I wanted for a long time. Nobody can replace-"
"That's a bunch of slag-scrap and you know it!" The yellow Autobot yelled back.
"Bumblebee!" Ironhide bellowed. No response, the younger 'bot had transformed and burned rubber speeding out of the room. "Frag it! 'Bee!"
"Let him go, Ironhide." The commanding voice of Optimus Prime boomed. "He's a smart little 'bot, give him some time to process it." The weapons specialist stopped, shoulders heaving.
"SLAG!" He roared, suddenly spinning around and crashing one fist into the wall. "Frag it all to Pit!"
"Ironhide…" Prime began.
"Is…is it so wrong for me to just desire one thing? ONE THING?" Another crash."Damn it! All those years alone, wondering if she was alive or dead, too far away to even sense anything though what we shared, and now...ggarrarrrrhhhh!!" A chair went flying. "I didn't mean to hurt him!"
"Ironhide, give him some time to cool off!" The Autobot leader urged. "This has been a major shock for all of us; of course you're allowed to find your own happiness. I prayed to Primus every night that you and Chromia would be reunited. You two have given new hope to our race!" The warrior mech sagged.
"And Elita?" He asked. Optimus started.
"…What about her?" Ironhide straightened, turning to face his friend.
"…I don't want to…" A pause. "I don't want it…as how the humans phrase it…rubbing my good fortune in your face…"
"No." Optimus whispered; his voice full of sorrow. "No, Ironhide, no! Never. If there's anyone who deserves the kind of happiness you have found with Chromia and Nightfire, it's you." Ironhide turned away again.
"I didn't say…because…it was…just between us. And Ratchet, but still..."
"And it was your right." The red and blue mech rumbled, walking up and placing one hand on Ironhide's back. "We'll figure this out, my friend." There was a long silence, and then it was broken by the black mech clearing his vocal processor.
"Bumblebee?"
"I'll speak to him. And no, you may not kill Jazz. Once was enough for us if you are so kind to remember."
"Hmph." And before anything else could be said, two very dusty and fragged-off humans entered the rec room. "Samuel? Mikaela? What on…" Sam looked up at his two friends, anger clearly radiating off his body.
"Will someone…please tell me…what the HELL is going on?" He bellowed. "Why did Bumblebee just screw us like that?" Mikaela didn't say anything, but shot the two Autobots a very dirty look. Prime winced.
"…Ratchet!"
