New chapter, wooooo.
I really don't have much to say, though. Pretty much the same as list time. Read, review, Vivienne is awesome for editing things, leave a review that has a way of me contacting you for a secret if you ask for it, Optimus' girl's reviews make me smile even if I can't respond to her because of lack of email address. You know, the usual.
Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to not me
Sari is perched on Cyclonus's lap, and she looks ready to vibrate off of it with irritation. The jet himself is sitting there as bland and expressionless as always, save for the giant bright red bows tied at the base of his head fins. Optimus makes a note to not allow Sari to decorate him when she's unhappy.
Sitting across from her, Optimus tilts his head. "I'm fairly sure this is why the newsbots think you're dating him."
She glares at him. "They can think that all they want, but that doesn't stop them from being wrong." She looks up at the jet. "I was thinking about painting rainbows on his wings, like where seekers put their symbols." She pats the mech on the cheek, getting little more than a weak glare, "Wouldn't that be the best thing ever? Maybe you'll get mad enough at me to say something other than how little you care, and wish we had left you to rust in your cell."
Cyclonus doesn't move, "I don't ca-"
She talks over him,"I know. That's why you don't get to vote. While if you were Spittor, you would. Since he actually gives a damn."
Optimus gives her a concerned look, "Spittor cares about Ultra and my courting?"
"He cares because I talk about it to him when I go visit."
"Does he approve of it?"
Sari crosses her arms, "I am so not answering that. You can just go, you know, do whatever it is you're supposed to be doing. Watch Ultra try and prove he deserves to be in our family." She mutters, "Which he totally doesn't. Old pervert."
Optimus sighs, walking over to Bulkhead, seeing Sari fluff up Cyclonus's bow as he does so. Sitting next to the green bot, he smiles. "Been awhile, Bulkhead. Having fun building space bridges?"
"Oh, definitely, Optimus," Bulkhead grins. "I've been doing my best to get a better one set up near Earth — so we can visit more easily, you know? But it's gonna be a while before I can convince them to let me build it."
"I'm sure you'll manage it, Bulkhead." Optimus reassures him, patting his shoulder. "Have you made any new friends out there? It must get rather lonely."
Bulkhead rubs the back of his helmet, "Well, uh, you see," he trails off. Is that a blush on his cheeks? "The entire crew is really nice, and great to work with. But I like to talk to this femme."
Optimus's optic's widen, "Who is she?"
Bulkhead gives him an upset look, "You aren't going to try scaring her off, are you? I have to work with her! I don't expect her to like me back or anything."
He puts up his servos placatingly, "I won't. I promise. I just want to know who she is, maybe talk to her."
The larger mech gives him a dirty look, "Every single bot I've liked and you and the rest of the team just 'talked' to, took off without looking back. I just like talking to her, and I don't expect anything."
"We won't scare her off, Bulkhead," he consoles, trying to smile innocently. "But if she's your friend, she should meet us. You don't hide your friends from your family."
Bulkhead narrows his optics, "You do when your family casually threatens to rip their arms off."
"I promise I won't threaten her, Bulkhead."
Bulkhead looks away, "And that's not a promise that no one will, Optimus. I'm not telling you her name, since you'll just have someone else do it."
He's probably shared her name with Bumblebee. Optimus ducks his head, "Alright, I'll stop asking. It's good that you're making friends out there."
The larger bot eyes him suspiciously, "Yeah. It's nice. Still miss you all a lot, though."
Optimus chats with him for a few kliks longer, before drifting away. He's going to find out the name of that femme from Bee.
Heading straight to the minibot, he sits next to the mech, "Did you know Bulkhead ilkes a femme on his team? Would he have given you a name?"
Bee gives him a confused look, "He does? I wouldn't know, anyway. There's, like, four femmes on his team."
Optimus gives him a confused look, "So there are only two mechs in a team of six?"
"Yeah, I thought it was kinda weird too," Bee keeps a firm hold on Firefly. "Lucky mechs, I guess."
Fingers tap contemplatively against his armor. "Has Bulkhead spoken about one of the femmes more than the others?"
"Uh," Bumblebee winces when Firefly tugs on one of his horns, "Don't do that, Firefly." He bats the servo away and turns back to Optimus, "Maybe. I remember him talking about a Crumplezone a lot."
Optimus smiles, "Then I'll be sure to ask to talk to her. Want to join me in that?"
Bee moves out of Firefly's reach, "Sure, gives me something to do that isn't just stupid errands anyone can run."
"You ought to be thankful that your attention span is less than stellar, or you'd end up under a pile of datapad reports that threatens to consume you each solar cycle." Optimus shudders. Even with delegating, he had ten times more pads to review than he'd ever wanted. Upper management was a nightmarish place to be at times.
Bee shrugs at him, "They tried that, remember?"
He nods, they had found the minibot curled up on pile of datapads like some bizarre nest. "And you didn't last through more than three before you gave up."
"They were so boring, bossbot. What did you expect?"
"That you might have finished at least a single solar cycle's worth of work before giving up?"
Bumblebee scoffs, and shoves Firefly into Optimus's arms. "I'm gonna find Blurr. You have just volunteered yourself to watch my sparkling."
Optimus rolls his optics after Bee, and the little bot in his arms gives him a hug, "Op-ti-mus."
Bumping foreheads, he murmurs, "Fi-er-fly."
The sparkling tilts his head hopefully, "Candy?"
"I don't carry candy around with me, Firefly. Are your parents still feeding it to you?"
"Yes?" the sparkling ducks his head, clearly lying.
Optimus pats one of his little wings, "They've stopped giving it whenever you ask, I bet. Especially if Blurr's been helping keep you fueled."
Firefly shifts the wing away from his servos. "Blurr gives yucky energon."
"Blurr gives you energon that helps you grow. I bet if you weren't being given that, you'd only end up as big as Bee, rather than almost as big as Sunstorm. Do you want to be big?"
The sparkling gives him a thoughtful look, "Bigger than you?"
He shrugs, "Very likely. I'm kind of in the middle on the size scale of Autobots, and you are a seeker."
"Still gross," the sparkling makes a face.
"The faster you grow, the sooner you'll be able to switch to a normal energon blend," Optimus advises, shifting Firefly on his lap. It's good practice for his future; taking care of a sparkling like this. Later on, he should work up the courage to ask Cliffjumper what it was like to carry a sparkling. Just in case.
Firefly curls up on him, and he simply pets the little mech's back. He's soon joined by Ultra, who kisses him softly. "Just talked to your family, Optimus."
Leaning against his mech, he asks, "And what do you think?"
Ultra sighs, "Sari still doesn't like me. I worry she will vote no."
"It doesn't have to be a unanimous vote this time, Ultra," Optimus glances over to make sure that Sari isn't watching, and kisses Ultra again. "And if she votes no now, she'll have the rest of our lives to learn to love you." A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he rests his servos on Ultra's chest. "I certainly have no intention of losing either of you. And we have a very, very long time."
Ultra nuzzles into the back of his neck, and pets Firefly, "I want her to like me now, though. Not just have her tolerate me just because you asked her to."
Firefly climbs out of his lap, and into Ultra's guns as he talks, "She does seem to be warming up to you." Ultra gives him a disbelieving look, "A bit. She isn't throwing anything at you for being next to me."
"I assumed that was because she was distracted by Cyclonus."
Optimus looks over, and Sari is rather distracted. She has pulled ribbon from somewhere; he'd guess her subspace, but she still hates using it. Cyclonus now had red bows dangling from every possible place she could tie one on. It was ... somewhere between amusing and horrifying.
"I think that's... part of it." He watches as she dives into Cyclonus' sub-space to pull out a datapad, and clmbs on the mech's shoulder before starting to read it aloud. "You talked to everyone already?"
Ultra kisses him softly, "I could go talk to more if you want me to."
Kissing his bot back, he smiles, "You could ask Bulkhead how he likes working, and if he mentions a femme he likes, try to get her name without seeming too interested. You may want to talk to a few other bots before going to him, though."
Ultra breaks out into a wide grin, "Bulkhead has a crush?" He pulls Optimus closer, "And you plan on investigating the femme in question?"
"Not as such," he murmurs, making sure Sari isn't watching before planting a small kiss on one of Ultra's headfins. "I simply feel it is important to make sure that Bulkhead's work team is made of good mechs and femmes."
Ultra's engine purrs at the kiss, and chuckles softly, "If that's what you want to call it, Optimus." His mech stands up, kissing him softly, "I'll go talk some more."
His spark is warm in his chest as he watches Ultra walk away, amused at Firefly curled up in the guns. Kicking his peds absently, he gets up after a klick, heading over to Ratchet and Arcee.
"Optimus," Arcee greets him cheerfully, pulling him down to sit beside them. "I was just telling Ratchet that we ought to chaperon you on another date soon." She winks at him, "It won't be long until you're allowed to go on dates all by yourselves, after all."
Ratchet grumbles, "That's Arcee's way of saying there's a play she wants to watch, and we all get to go along with her."
Optimus smiles, absolutely certain that Ratchet wants to go too, but is just giving him a way out. "I'd love to go, and I'm sure Ultra will, too. Has he come to talk to you?"
Arcee nods, "And he'd already agreed as long as you did, too."
"Then we'll find a time and make it work," Optimus promises his friends. He enjoys going out with them; they're far less likely to slap his servos. Well, Ratchet is, in any case. Arcee is a bit of a traditionalist, it seems, but she at least allows them the actual limits of the courtship.
He talks with them for a little while longer, wondering if Ultra will join him, and he could sneak into his bot's lap. Instead, he watches absently as Ultra slowly makes his way to Bulkhead. Carefully not looking at them, he asks Ratchet, "Did you know that Bulkhead has a bot he likes?" Ratchet's optics start to snap to the bot in question, but Optimus continues, "Don't look, I'm trying to get Ultra to confirm who I think it is."
Arcee gives him a sharp look, "And why are you doing that, Optimus?"
He hunches in on himself a bit, defensively, "Is it wrong to want to keep a friend safe? We only want to make sure this femme doesn't plan on breaking Bulkhead's spark."
"Of course," she knocks the side of his helmet with her fist, "you fragging glitches. You'll just run the poor thing off."
"You don't know that, Arcee."
She glares at him, "He's a grown bot, Optimus. He can take care of himself, and you know it. At the very least promise me you won't threaten the bot."
Optimus smiles, "I already promised Bulkhead that, so I have no problem doing the same for you."
"I'm going to have to track all of you down and get every one of you to agree to that, aren't I?" At Ratchet and Optimus's shared innocent look, Arcee covers her face with her palm. "I can't believe you bots sometimes, I swear. Did Primus create you without a tact program?"
Optimus scoots away from her, out of hitting range. "I only want him safe."
She glares at him, "Like the Pit you do. He's allowed to be happy, Optimus. When you do track this bot down, you will be nice about it."
"Yes, ma'am," he mutters. He didn't enjoy being made to feel like a misbehaving sparkling. A warm servo on his shoulder brings the smile back to his face. "Ultra."
He's pulled onto Ultra's lap, "Bulkhead spoke at some length about his team. But he spoke most often of a femme named Crumplezone. A neutral bot hired because of her specialties in bridge building."
Melting into his mech's hold, he takes Ultra's servo in his own, squeezing softly, "Then we will just have to talk to her, and make sure she doesn't hurt him."
Ultra kisses him softly, "I think that he likes her a very great deal, Optimus. He clearly knew why I was asking, but since I didn't press he was willing to talk."
"All the more reason for her to meet us," Optimus says, entirely reasonable in his expectation. If she wanted to be Bulkhead's friend—or more—she would need to get along with the rest of them.
Ultra rubs his back, "Do not ask her to come to Autobot Command. You know that makes most bots nervous." Optimus frowns. Did Ultra have to ruin his plans like that?
Sighing, he cuddles into Ultra's touch, "I won't, then. We'll figure something out." He's kissed again, and he clings to his bot, "Later, though. Later."
Ultra rubs foreheads, "That's what I thought." Optimus just hums happily, engine purring.
A cough behind him has Optimus turning on Ultra's lap, flushing a bit to find Sari scowling down at him from Cyclonus' shoulder. "We're going to vote now."
Red bows litter the mech's form, and each of his wings are liberally wrapped in ribbon. If Optimus didn't know better, he'd say they were twitching in agitation. Perhaps they were. Wings were remarkably sensitive — he knew that well enough from his own brief experience with wings.
She continues, "As much as I don't want to say this... I'm going to have to vote... yes." She glares at Ultra, "This is not because I like you, it is because Cyclonus convinced me it is a good idea." Optimus looks at Cyclonus, who looks utterly confused. It is very clear that the jet never said anything about which way to vote, and he can only assume that she meant the fact that Ultra got the mech freed, and given to her.
Ultra relaxed so much against Optimus that the smaller mech worried his intended was going to melt right through the couch. He'd been more worried about Sari's approval and willingness to accept him into the family than he'd revealed. Optimus rubs Ultra's thigh soothingly.
Prowl smiles, "Jazz already considers you family. Lockdown and I would be glad to have you as well."
Draping himself over Prowl, Jazz flashes them a little thumbs-up sign, "Told you ya had nothing to worry about, man."
Ultra smiles, holding Optimus close, and the rest of the family gives their approval. It is clear the one Ultra was the most worried about was Sari, and when she agreed, the rest fell into place.
Optimus was seated at the desk, with Bumblebee standing as much at attention as Bee was capable of beside him. "Please, have a seat, Crumplezone."
The femme looked rather nervous; she had a jaw rather like Bulkhead's, and a very nice set of blue optics. She sat across from them. "I'm afraid I don't understand why I was asked to come here. I didn't even know Autobot Command had an office out here. The sign said this was a requisitions office."
He can see her flexing her fingers, as if to reach into her sub-space, and glancing at the black symbol spot on her arm, he'd guess it is her wanting to just slap an Autobot sticker on so they don't declare she was supporting the Decepticons or some other nonsense. He knows most neutrals didn't care one way or another who won as long as they could keep living their lives.
He glances down at the datapad in front of him, and looks her directly in the optics, "I've heard a little bit about you from Bulkhead. It says here that you're a mech?" He carefully does not look at the bot's curvy figure, "But he is under the impression that you're a femme."
"Most bots think I'm a femme," the bot answers, clearly confused about why she, or he, is being asked about this. "If anyone asks, I'll tell them I'm a mech. Bulkhead never asked." Crumplezone shrugs, "It doesn't bother me to be thought of as a femme, and I get slagging," he coughs, "uh, sorry for the language, I get pretty irritated having to prove I'm a mech all the time."
Optimus nods, and flips through the datapad again. The rest of it is just random stories he dropped in to make it look like he had more information, and he looks back at the green mech, "Not a problem. I was just curious about that. Anyway," He hands the pad to Bee, "down to what we wanted to speak to you about." He looks over, and Ratchet and Prowl walk in. "What are your intentions with Bulkhead?"
"My," the mech watches the others come in, visibly tensing, "intentions?" His servos twitch again, and Optimus wonders if he's still wanting to go for any Autobot things he's carrying, or if it's an instinctive desire to have a weapon available when surrounded by potentially hostile bots. Possibly both. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sirs."
Optimus shares a look with Prowl and Ratchet, while Bumblebee is reading through the datapad he handed the minibot, "You don't? You were the one he mentioned the most, and he mentioned really liking a femme." Ratchet looks like he wants to snap out something, but Prowl grabs the medic before Ratchet can say anything. "Are you the ... bot that he spends most of his time with?"
Crumplezone gives them a horribly confused look, no longer twitching towards his sub-space, "Well, yes, but he never said anything about liking me. Other than as a friend ... sir."
"Do you intend to take advantage of his trust?" Optimus asks, servos folded carefully in front of him on the desktop.
The bot gives him an odd look. "Take advantage of Bulkhead?" His fingers rub restlessly against his leg. "Why in Primus's name would I do that? I mean, you say he's ... interested in me?" Crumplezone shakes his head. "I never even noticed. I mean, my general rule is making sure a bot knows I'm a mech after they hit on me."
Prowl sits on the desk, posing so he doesn't look intimidating but is still higher up, "And you say that he hasn't expressed interest?" Crumplezone gives them a confused head nod. "Do yo-" Prowl stops at a gentle touch from Optimus.
"Well, since you genuinely didn't know, I think we will skip over our usual speech to bots that he likes."
"Usual speech?" Crumplezone eyes them carefully, "Do you normally try scaring off the bots he likes? 'S not a very friendly thing to do."
Optimus offers him a smile that's not entirely kind, "Bulkhead is a fantastic mech. But he can be a bit too trusting at times. We just like to prevent him from being hurt unnecessarily."
"Trusts too easily?" The mech looks like he wants to curse at them, but isn't sure if he can get away with it.
Bee finally looks up, "Oh, yeah. Way too easily. Remember the Constructicons?"
Crumplezone narrows his optics, "Yeah. I remember reading about them. And Bulkhead mentioned them a couple times, when he was overcharged."
Ratchet leaps on that, "You've been getting him overcharged?"
"He's been getting himself overcharged. Like a normal bot."
He can tell Ratchet wants to start cursing, and that will solve absolutely nothing, so he sets a servo on the medic's arm. "He is an adult, do I need to have Arcee tell you that? She will be far less kind about how it is said."
Ratchet gives him a dirty look, and crosses his arms, "Fine, Prime. Go on with what you want to say."
He looks at Crumplezone, thinking about it. "If he does approach you, and you hurt him, we will rip out your spark." He smiles, "But if you make him happy, you will be welcome into our family for as long as you wish." He can see the carbot's thoughts in the mech's optics. "And you will want to be part of the family if you two get together. He will not part with us, and we will not part with him."
"He's a teammate," the mech answers cautiously. "Not the same kinda team you've got going on, obviously, but a teammate still. I'm not going to intentionally hurt him." He stands, "Look, are we done here? I'm not really comfortable talking about this behind his back."
Optimus pulls out another datapad, "Yes, of course. And if you're uncomfortable about us discussing this without Bulkhead, you are welcome to tell him. There are no secrets among family, after all."
Crumplezone gives him a look that is clearly hiding a glare before nodding. "Of course, sir." The bot's tone is just on the edge of bitter.
They watch him walk out, waiting a full klik as Prowl makes sure he's gone. Then the ninjabot comments, "He's really quite pretty, isn't he?"
"That's utterly irrelevant, Prowl," Optimus scolds him.
Ratchet stares at the door, "He looks just like a femme. Makes a bot think he's hiding something."
He resists the urge to cover his face with his servo. "I'm not sure I follow that train of logic, Ratchet."
The medic grumbles, "Just, it's pretty rare for a mech to look that much like a femme. And how do we know he was actually gonna tell Bulkhead about it?"
"If he doesn't, then we do. It will be easy enough to bring into conversation if he starts talking about how pretty his girlfriend Crumplezone is, don't you think?"
Ratchet glares at him, then turns away, arms crossed and grumbling.
Bumblebee blinks, "Oh hey, I need to take this call." He presses his fingers to his temple and listens for a nanoklik, "Woah, hey, Blurr. Slow down. What are you ..." he stops. "Did he really? No. I didn't leave any paint out for him. I have no idea how he got into it. It's not my fault if he painted you orange and yellow. Firefly likes those colors."
Optimus watches as Bee walks around the room, "I don't know where the solvent is, but I think that- what do you mean Firefly was trying to destroy the dispenser?" Bee winces unhappily, "Did you tell him that's where the good energon comes from? ... and that's why he's angry? ... Yeah... okay. I'll head home, just let me tell Optimus. Love you, too."
Bee turns to him, and he waves a servo. "Go, it sounds like Blurr needs you more than we do, and we're just going to be cleaning up." Bee is a yellow streak that runs out of the office, and he shakes his head. "Let's go home. I need to prepare for taking care of that little trouble maker tomorrow."
Three megacycles of effort later, Optimus was finally willing to declare his apartment safe for sparklings. Bee would be dropping Firefly off soon, and Ultra would arrive shortly thereafter. An entire solar cycle alone with Ultra — and a sparkling. Well, it wasn't truly alone, as they would likely take Firefly out to burn off some of his energy mid-day, and he fully anticipated that Sari and Lockdown would be scattering calls to them both throughout, to make sure they hadn't snuck off for an interface while Firefly was napping.
Optimus flushes. As if he'd ever do that.
He looks around, making sure there's nothing he's missing, when there's a knock at the door. He lets Bee in, and takes the fussy sparkling into his arms, "Sorry, bossbot, we haven't fed him yet. Lockdown and Sari said that you guys need to do it. I'd normally feed him first thing, but..." He trails off unhappily.
Optimus grabs the cube of energon he already had prepared and holds it, "I know, Bee. You go have fun with Sunstorm and Blurr. I can do this by myself for the few cycles it takes Ultra to get here."
"Thanks so much, Bossbot. We really do appreciate having a solar cycle off." He leans forward and kisses Firefly's forehead. "Be good for Optimus and Ultra." Firefly smacks the side of his helmet and Bee blinks. "He's a little cranky before he eats."
"I can see that," Optimus hums, and shakes the energon cube carefully, "I have fuel for you, Firefly. Are you hungry?"
Firefly glares at the cube, "No!"
"Are you sure?" Firefly nods angrily. "I could drink it instead, since you're so sure." Optimus' tone is light as he starts to bring the cube to his lips.
"No!"
"So you do want it?"
"No!"
Optimus shrugs, "It's mine then. You can't have any." He drinks a bit of it, very visibly, and not faking at all. Licking his lips, he murmurs, "Delicious."
Firefly gives him a horrified look, "No! Mine!"
Holding it out for Firefly, he says, "I don't know, Firefly. You were pretty sure you didn't want it."
Firefly takes the cube and starts to drink from it, with a little hissed, "Mine!"
Bumblebee laughs and pats Firefly's head. "I can see you've got him well in servo. We'll swing by to pick him up later tonight." And with that, the minibot is gone in a flash.
Firefly hisses at him as he puts the mech in a chair. Patting the bot on the head, he pulls out the blocks again. "When you're done with that, would you like to play with blocks or watch a movie?"
Firefly glares at him, pushing away his half full cube, "No."
The door chimes and Optimus goes to answer it, leaving Firefly with his energon cube. "Ultra," he smiles, leaning up for a kiss. "Firefly is here already."
Servos lift Optimus for a much deeper kiss, glossas delving. He's not released until his engine revs. Ultra Magnus sets him back on his peds, "Good morning, Optimus."
Trying to get his spark to stop hammering in his chest, he murmurs back, "Good morning." Shaking his head, he pulls his intended in, and closes the door. Turning back to Firefly, he frowns, "You need to drink it all, you know."
"No! Tastes icky." The sparkling glares at the cube, refusing to even touch it.
Ultra chuckles and picks the cube up, dipping a finger in it to test. He makes a face and kneels down to get closer to optic level with the sparkling. "It is pretty icky. Would you like me to make it better?"
Firefly perks up, "Make it candy?"
Patting the little bot's head, he rises again. "Not candy, I'm afraid." He scoops Firefly up in his other arm and carries them into the kitchen, putting Firefly on the counter top. Optimus watches curiously.
"Do you know what you're doing?"
Ultra rifles through the cabinets, pulling out some of the energon additives that had been gathering metaphorical dust there. "Of course I do." He pours the energon into a mixer, and adds two or three different powders to it. "I've taken care of sparklings in the past. I admit they always have tended to take advantage of me a bit."
"You have? I thought you di-" he cuts himself off, not wanting to bring up painful memories. He whispers softly, "Sorry."
Ultra hands Firefly the cube of mixed energon, and pulls him into a hug, and a soft kiss. "It was a very long time ago, Optimus. You don't have to apologize. I've long since accepted that they are long gone."
"You don't have to talk about them," Optimus laces his fingers with Ultra's.
The larger mech pulls their combined servos up and kisses his fingers. "I don't mind talking about them. With you."
Flushing, Optimus turns his attention to Firefly, who is licking his lips, the energon cube completely empty. The truckbot's optics widen. "What did you do to it?"
"I just added a few things so it will taste sweet to a sparkling, but not ruin the nutrition already in the mix." Ultra puts Firefly in Optimus's arms, "I figured it out while taking care of my nephews and niece."
Despite his curiosity, he doesn't ask for details about them. Ultra will share what he feels comfortable sharing. Balancing Firefly in his arms, he smiles at his intended. "So you have a lot of experience with sparklings?"
"Quite a bit, yes. Only as an uncle, though."
They walk to the living area. "Did you like the energon Ultra made for you, Firefly?"
"Yes! More?"
Optimus glances at Ultra, who shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Firefly, but you're only supposed to have a cube unless you're healing."
Optimus rubs foreheads with the little mech, "But we can fuel up again later, with Ultra's special mix. Want to do something now?"
Firefly squirms down to the pile of blocks, picking up an assortment before climbing Ultra like piece of furniture, perching on top. "Want to make guns." He starts sticking the blocks to Ultra's turret mounts.
"You think I need more?" Ultra is clearly fighting off the urge to laugh.
Firefly doesn't even dignify that with an answer, just slaps more blocks on Ultra's turrets. Optimus chuckles softly, "Are you sure they only need to be there? He has arms and legs, you know."
Firefly gives him a calculating look, optics roving over his arms and legs, before going back to adding blocks to where they were in the first place. "No."
Optimus picks up a few blocks to fiddle with, trying to assemble something that would fly. "Would you like some, Ultra?"
Shaking his head, Ultra simply watches Firefly build on him, "I'm quite content with watching the two of you."
Leaning against his beloved, his engine purrs happily, "If you say so." He pulls several blocks together, wondering if he should make a jet or some other aircraft.
Ultra rests a servo on his shoulder, rubbing a thumb on Optimus's faceplate lovingly, "I do."
It only took the smallest of movements to turn his head enough to kiss that fingertip. Ultra's optics dim slightly, and he brushes the thumb over his lips; Optimus considers opening his mouth and licking.
Luckily, he's saved from having to make such a decision by a cranky sparkling smacking his servo on Ultra's turret noisily. "More blocks!"
Pulling away from Ultra's touch, Optimus fights back a flush. "That's not how you ask for something, Firefly."
Firefly pouts. "More blocks, please!"
"Much better." He hands a pile of blocks to Ultra, who transfers them to Firefly. The little mech arranges those into a pile, then goes back to putting more pretend guns on Ultra. Shaking his head, Optimus returns to his own project. He's searching through the bloacks for rotor blades when there's a com call.
He sighs, bracing himself, and puts his fingers to his temple, and the amused tones of Lockdown come instantly, "You two better stop 'facing, there's a sparkling you should be taking care of."
"Charming as always, Lockdown," Optimus says, sitting back to watch Firefly construct some sort of fantastically impractical gun. He wonders if the sparkling will destroy it after realizing they do not have enough blocks for him to create an identical weapon on Ultra's other shoulder. "Was there a point to your call, or did you simply wish to harass?"
"Well, harassing you was the main priority, but I also called to tell you that you should take Firefly out to a park or somethin' to that effect. Like an actual parent."
Optimus sighs, "And you just so happen to have a park in mind that you want us to go to, I bet. Where you just so happen to be."
"It's even close to your apartment!"
"I'm sure it is. Just give me the name, and we'll bring Firefly down in a megacycle or so."
Lockdown rattles off the location, and Optimus disconnects the call as quickly as possible, before Lockdown can convince him to agree to anything else. Only a few blocks remain on the floor now, Ultra having given most of them to Firefly, who looks increasingly frustrated by the fact that Optimus hasn't supplied enough materials for two enormous, impractical gun assemblies.
Looking up at the little bot, he tilts his head, "If you made it smaller, you could put on two."
Firefly makes an unhappy whining noise, whimpering out, "No."
Handing up his still unfinished helicopter, he dusts off his arms, "If you're sure. We're out of blocks. You used them all. No way to fix that."
Something flashes in the little bot's optics, and he leans in to whisper something in Ultra's audio, giving him a wide, pleading look after. Remembering Ultra's own admission, and the tiny Elite wings on Firefly's Autobot insignias, Optimus gives the both of them a stern look.
"No, you will not be buying him more blocks."
Ultra reaches up, a gentle servo on Firefly's back, "It isn't like having more would be a bad thing, Optimus."
He shakes his head, "No. No more blocks. The amount I have is enough for three sparklings, as long as they don't do something like that," he waves an arm at the faux gun that Firefly is still adding to from the loose blocks. "More is not needed, and you know it."
"It won't do any harm, Optimus," Ultra protests, shifting his shoulder to allow Firefly better access.
He's forced to disagree. "It will teach him that you cave to his every demand." Optimus watches Ultra hunch in on himself a bit, defensively, and he reaches out to grab his servo, squeezing it. "You need to learn to say no. For when we have our own sparklings." He manages not to blush by sheer power of will.
He can hear Ultra's engine rev slightly as his mech says, "We could get more blocks to keep for our sparkling; keep them here for Firefly to play with them."
Optimus sighs, shaking his head. "You must be strong on certain points, Ultra. This is something that you need to realize: we don't need more than what we already have. You don't want to spoil sparklings too much."
"You're not the best judge of what a bot needs," Ultra scolds him lightly. "If it were up to you, you'd be drinking utter swill and have an apartment with barely enough room for a berth."
"I wouldn't," he insists, though really, he doesn't need an apartment this large, or expensive energon. "But even if I did, that doesn't mean we should be spoiling Firefly by agreeing to his every demand. Sparklings have to learn that they don't get everything they want."
"But getting more blocks isn't going to sp-"
Optimus puts a finger against Ultra's mouth, "And when they ask for a new toy every day? One toy every time you go out and come back? You need to learn to draw the line early, Ultra. Every so often will not hurt, but if you bring a piece of candy every day..." He gives his mech a concerned look, "We do not need more blocks. We have is enough."
"More?" Firefly asks, running out of blocks with the second gun still unfinished.
Ultra sighs quietly, reaching up to pet Firefly's wings. "No more for now, Firefly. We'll get more blocks when your brother is born." He smiles at Optimus. "That's a fair compromise?"
Optimus rubs his optics, "I suppose." He looks up at Firefly, "Hand down the blocks, Firefly. We're going to the park, and Ultra will look very silly with only one finished block gun. Don't you agree?"
Firefly looks at the toys irritably, "... yes."
The blocks store away nicely in the space he's set aside for them, though he tucks a few away in his subspace in case Firefly wants to play with them at the park. "Do you want Ultra to carry you?"
"Yes," Firefly clings to the turret mounts, petting them with his tiny servos.
With Optimus taking Ultra's servo, they walk out the door. He leans on his beloved as they get into the elevator. "Think Lockdown will be hiding, or will he be really obvious about it?"
His intended hums in thought, "How did he sound on the call?"
He shrugs, "Same as he ever does, really. Half mocking, half full of dark humor, all dangerous."
"I'm fairly sure your assessment of danger stems from when he..." Ultra trails off, scowling.
"From when he kidnapped and tried to cut me apart for mods?"
Ultra squeezes his servo hard, "Remind me why we let him near you?"
Optimus walks close to him, waving at the guard as they leave, "He's redeemed himself; or he's still redeeming himself. And, while I can't call him a good mech, he's certainly not a bad one anymore."
On his shoulder, Firefly starts to twitch, and Optimus can hear his little heel turbines start up. Ultra reaches up and taps Firefly's wing. "No flying around our heads. If I have to, I'll get out a little tether and hook your servo to one of my guns."
Firefly gives Ultra a horrified look, and curls up in the turrets. The little bot whispers, "No."
"Then you don't go flying off where we can't get you."
Firefly whines softly, but doesn't try to take off.
Thankfully, the park is only a short distance away. Optimus spots Lockdown immediately, sitting on a bench, every other bot having chosen to sit quite a distance away from him. Lockdown pretends to not notice them. Optimus rolls his optics. He'll probably play this off as an utterly chance meeting.
"Lockdown," he greets the mech, who jerks his head up and affects an expression surprise.
"Why, Optimus, I'd have never expected to see you here." He pulls a camera from his subspace. "I'm just admiring the scenery."
Optimus eyes him cautiously, "If any of the other bots think you're taking pictures of them, or of their sparklings, you'll need to stop."
Lockdown smirks, "Do you really think that I would ev-"
Optimus talks over him, "Yes. You would. You are not going to. Or I will destroy that camera."
Lockdown rolls his optics, "Yeah, yeah. I got it, kid. I wasn't going to, anyway. No profit in terrorizing random bots like that, anyway."
"You forget that I've known you for stellar cycles," Optimus rests a servo on his hip, "and I know that unlike Swindle, you place equal value on entertainment and credits."
Servos in the air in a gesture of surrender, Lockdown tisks at him, "You're no fun, kid. Just like my ninjabots, who refused to come with me for this."
He'd like to threaten not to allow the bot to publish anything, but he's in public and not able to admit he actually does let the mech do it. Instead he gives Lockdown a dark look, and returns to Ultra, who is holding Firefly to keep him from taking off. "Maybe there should be some areas for fliers at various parks?" he murmurs as he looks through the various obstacle areas, all made for autobot models. "Since we're integrating various flying models into society."
"We'll bring it up at the next Council meeting," Ultra promises, "though I don't imagine it will get much priority. Few Autobots are flight-capable."
Firefly takes off, and they watch the sparkling skim the tops of various areas, "Maybe we should have more."
Ultra reaches over, taking his servo, and squeezing it gently, "If everything goes well, we will."
"It helps that some of the flying bots have been willing to share code with us," Optimus leans against his side, soaking up his warmth. "Though I'm sure Perceptor would appreciate significantly more time to study said code from the actual bots, rather than the datapads they offer."
Ultra moves so Optimus is being held in both arms as they stand, "They do seem adamant on not having their code studied while the pad is in them."
Optimus leans against his intended, "Maybe in a few stellar cycles."
Firefly does several loop-the-loops, "Or less?"
They watch as the sparkling lands gently on the ramp next to a little carbot, "I'd bet more. The sparklings would be more likely to agree than the actual seekers."
Firefly makes a face at the other sparkling, saying something they can't hear, and the car sparkling takes off down the ramp, Firefly close behind. "Possibly."
Optimus chuckles, "I'm sure part of their objection is Perceptor's single shoulder cannon. You know how they get about asymmetry."
"Lockdown drives them mad," Ultra agrees, kissing Optimus gently. He knows the other bots in the park are watching them, but he doesn't mind it nearly as much now.
They watch as Firefly kisses the carbot he was racing on the cheek, making the other little mech giggle. "I've had them offer to put a second autobot symbol on my other arm."
Firefly flits off to another sparkling, bowing deeply. "When was this?"
The little motorcycle curtsies back. "A little bit after Prowl ripped off Starscream's head." Firefly kisses the little femme's servo, and pulls her into a small dance, holding her servos and spinning them both in a small circle. Optimus tilts his head, "Firefly is being very... charming, isn't he?"
"Seekers can be charming when they want." Ultra pets Optimus's hip. "They are quite talented at it."
Optimus knows this firsthand, having spent so much time among them. Though Starscream had always leaned more towards the handsy side of charming, especially when he'd gotten Optimus alone. Thinking of it made his spark squirm uncomfortably in his chest.
Ultra kisses him softly on the temple, and he relaxes into his love's arms. "Some of them."
Ultra kisses him on the top of the head as Firefly lets go of the femme to kiss a motorcycle sparkling mech on the helm. "Well, it seems like he is, anyway."
Firefly spreads his wings, allowing the little mech to point out the elite wings jealously. "He does have the pride down, too."
A short exchange of some sort has Firefly pointing to them both, and Optimus waves at the little sparklings who all stare at them with wide optics. The motorcycle sparkling zips over to them and transforms, so much tinier than Firefly as he looks up at them. "Are you really Ultra Magnus?"
Dropping to one knee to get a bit closer, Ultra nods, "I am. And what's your name? Are your parents that nice pair of cyclebots over there?"
The little bot puffs up proudly, "Yes!"
"You certainly look like them." Ultra tilts his head, a small smile on his face, "Was there something you wanted? Or did you just come over to make sure Firefly wasn't lying?"
The sparkling glances over to Firefly, who is kissing another sparkling, this time on the nose, before turning back to Ultra. "You gave him wings."
Ultra chuckles, "That I did. Did you want some of your own?"
"Yes!" the sparkling shouts, bouncing up and down on his peds. He glances back at his parents, and then adds, "Please," as an afterthought.
"Do you think the other sparklings would like some wings too?" Ultra asks, already pulling out a can of paint and a brush.
The sparkling seems torn—he clearly wants special wings of his own, but doesn't want to lie to Ultra Magnus. "Yes," he finally admits, scuffing his peds on the ground.
Ultra pats his head, "Go tell them to come over."
The little bot speeds away, and Optimus casts a stern look at Ultra. "You can't paint Elite Guard wings on them all."
His intended just smiles and hands Optimus a brush. "I agree. It would take far too long to do them all myself. Which is why you'll be helping."
Optimus gives him an incredulous look, "This better not be the-"
Ultra kisses him to stop him from talking, ignoring various grossed out noises from the sparklings, "It is just temporary. Only one day. Let them pl-"
Optimus bumps their foreheads, "Temporary paint is just fine, we don't know how many of these sparklings actually want to be an elite guard when they're older like Firefly does."
"The paint will have faded even from Firefly long before that becomes an issue," Ultra turns back to the sparklings, pointing the brush at the motorcyclebot. "I believe I promised you would get to go first. The rest of you will need to decide who gets to be painted by Optimus."
After the cyclebot stands in front of Ultra, the other sparklings share a look and push the femme towards Optimus.
Kneeling down, he starts to paint it on, "Do you know how important these wings are?" She nods her head, making him raise an optic ridge. "Do you really?" She pauses and shrugs. "It means that you're supposed to keep other bots safe while upholding the law. While you have this, it means you are supposed to be the most responsible bot you can be." He puts on finishing touches, "It is not a symbol you wear lightly. You must be good, because you represent the best of the Autobots as you wear it."
She nods solemnly, and then scrambles up his frame to plant a kiss on his cheek, before giggling and racing out of reach. He smiles bemusedly. Optimus would just have to hope the sparklings took his speech to spark.
They both work their way through the group of sparklings, until Optimus is painting the last one, reciting the speech to him. Ultra rubs Otpimus's shoulder when the little truckbot goes to join his companions. "It's good to hear things like that from you." Fingers rub against Optimus's insignia, "That you value these wings so much."
Leaning against his mech, he wraps his arms around the larger bot, "It is important. You need to remember what you're representing if you have it on. Bots see the symbol and are either happy that the best of us are good bots, or disgusted that the 'best' is a bot that can't control themselves in public. We want someone that knows how to act, and if they decide to be elites, they will remember how important it is."
"They're sparklings," Ultra murmurs into his audio, holding him close. "No one expects them to behave perfectly, no matter what insignia they bear." He rests a servo on the small of Optimus's back, wisely keeping it away from his aft. Optimus still had rather strict limits on certain kinds of public touching. "But I admit that I find your idealism refreshing. It is a large part of why I love you so."
Optimus nuzzles into Ultra's chest, avoiding the sparkplates deftly, "It is always better for them to know before it is vitally important than when they can't learn from a mistake."
Ultra kisses him on the top of the head, "Always so serious, Optimus."
He chuckles softly, "I guess, but I think it is important to know this."
"Maybe I should have you do the next round of promotions while giving your speech," Ultra nods to the sparklings, the ones that Optimus painted mostly acting a bit less rashly than the ones Ultra worked on. "They seem to have taken what you said to spark."
"It's a valuable lesson for them to learn," Optimus keeps an optic on Firefly, making sure the little bot continues to get along with the other sparklings. "One they'll need to remember if they intend to go through boot camp and the academy successfully."
Ultra tightens his hold into a more solid hug, "If they want to do that."
They watch as Firefly kisses another sparkling. "Of course."
"Do you think Firefly will be tired enough to take a stasis nap?" Ultra murmurs in his audio, servos rubbing his back in slow circles. "I wouldn't mind getting a bit of time alone with you again."
Firefly flutters his wings at the femme; he's picked that flirting up from the other Seekers in his life, no doubt. "It's possible. He's not eating candy all the time anymore, so he should wear himself out."
"And he actually drank all of the energon we gave him." Ultra kisses Optimus on the top of his head, just barely not touching his headfins. "That should help."
Firefly has one of his wings touched by another little mech, and they watch as the jet squeaks unhappily. Optimus is about to walk over to break up a possible fight when the carbot rubs the wing apologetically, and gets a kiss from Firefly. "... I think he's trying to kiss every single one of the other sparklings."
Chuckling, Ultra releases Optimus, "It's quite clear which side most of his CNA came from." He keeps his fingers linked with Optimus's. "I wonder who Blurr's sparkling will take after."
"He's a seeker model, so I suppose he'll be as much of a charming little flirt with other bots as Firefly." After a brief moment, he adds, "Though hopefully less spoiled, with Blurr there to help raise him." The other sparklings are all petting Firefly's wings now, and the little jet is giggling. "And Firefly is doing so much better now that they aren't letting him get away with everything."
Optimus kisses Ultra's check, smiling happily, "Yes. He's acting much better now than how he was with just Bee and Sunstorm. No longer flying around randomly and taking off."
Ultra pulls Optimus against his side, and they sit together and watch Firefly play with the other sparklings, sticking mostly to the ground as they chase each other. Eventually, the bots begin to show signs of tiring, and a few of the other parents come to collect their sparklings and leave. Firefly waves at each of them as they go.
Leaning over, Optimus kisses Ultra's cheek. "You should go get Firefly. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking a nap soon."
Ultra kisses him softly, "Very true." Optimus watches as his intended walks over to Firefly, and the sparkling gives the mech an upset look, but doesn't actively protest. The little jet gives each of the other sparklings a kiss on the cheek goodbye, except for one who had turned his head to get it on the lips. Optimus can barely hold in the laughter as Firefly blinks at the little racecar in confusion.
Firefly nestles in amongst Ultra's guns, curling around them in a way that hardly looks comfortable to Optimus. The sparkling seems to like it well enough.
Optimus takes Ultra's servo in his when he returns, "I think someone has a little crush on Firefly." The larger mech just smiles at him, and they walk away from the park together. Optimus knows that Lockdown is probably harassing the other bots to allow their pictures to be used in his articles.
A chill races down his spine suddenly, and he glances at a strange bot from the corner of his optics. That bot had been watching them for quite a while now, and was now carefully not watching them leave. He forces his processor away from it. Probably a reporter from one of the horrible tabloids that kept nearly breaking the laws while covering them.
Squeezing Ultra's servo, they walk back to Optimus's apartment building without incident, and greet the securitybot cheerfully. When they get into his apartment, Firefly is recharging while entangled in Ultra's guns. Looking up at the sparkling, he murmurs, "Do you think you could get him out without waking him?"
"Possibly." Ultra shifts his guns around carefully, kneeling down so Optimus can carefully pull Firefly free. No matter how much the sparkling might enjoy having a stasis nap like that, it's better for his growing frame and joints to have him on an actual berth. He'd dragged the sparkling berth into the living area that morning, and he carefully places Firefly on it. Several times, the little bot almost came online again, but Optimus hums a soft lullaby to keep him down.
When they're sure that the little bot is firmly in recharge, Ultra pulls Opimus on top of his lap, and kisses him firmly. "I love you."
Optimus laughs softly, "I love you, too." He curls up on his intend's lap, wrapping his arms around the mech's waist. "So much." Ultra runs a servo along his back, resting on his aft. His mech kisses his headfin with a hint of glossa. Pulling away he shakes his head, "Nuh-uh. We have a sparkling recharging right there. Not happening."
"He's deep in recharge," Ultra tries to argue, squeezing his aft a bit. "He won't online. And I'm sure he's used to seeing bots kissing."
Despite the way his spark is starting to throb in his chest, Optimus shakes his head again. "There's a difference between kissing and licking my headfins."
Ultra gives him a hopeful look, "So we can make out while he recharges?"
Optimus narrows his optics, "No. He could wake up, and I'm not explaining what we were doing."
"I'm sure he already knows," Ultra mutters, but he keeps his touches innocent, and stops trying to pull Optimus into a kiss.
He lays against Ultra's chest, and considers taking a stasis nap of his own. It would be best to stay online in case Firefly onlines and needs him.
He hums softly, and Ultra jumps slightly under him before putting two fingers to his temple, "Yes, Red Alert?" Optimus blinks up at his love, smiling softly in amusement as Ultra looks slightly harassed. "He's down for a nap, actually. ... No. He's on my lap, actually. I thought he'd fall into recharge, too, but this woke him up." Optimus punches Ultra playfully, making his bot look down at him with a soft smile, "Or he was staying up and just wanted to be held. ... Of course he did. I know how to make a mix that sparklings like. ... I suppose I could. No reason not to. ... Okay. You make sure Wheeljack doesn't blow too much up."
Ultra puts down his fingers, and Optimus kisses him lovingly, "Anything important?"
"She just wanted me to show Blurr how to make the mix later, since he's apparently been complaining about how fussy seeker sparklings are."
"I'm sure they'll be very thankful for your helpful trick," Optimus hums, glancing back at Firefly's recharging form before darting up to lick Ultra's headfin.
Ultra's engine revs as the mech chuckles softly, "So it is fine for you to do it, but not me?"
Optimus kisses him, "You licked me first, payback is only fair."
"I'm hungry," a voice calls out from behind him, and Optimus turns to look back at Firefly, who is blinking his optics lazily, watching them. "I want Ultra's energon."
Ultra lets his servo slide away from Optimus's aft. "I suppose we should let him fuel up again."
Slipping off of Ultra's lap, he pulls Firefly into his arms, "That seems like the best choice."
Firefly clings to him, murmuring sleepily, "Like Ultra's energon."
Ultra is over by the dispenser, mixing up a cube, and Optimus rubs foreheads with the sparkling. "Well, he's making you more, and plans on showing Blurr how to make it for you."
"Blurr gives yucky energon," Firefly insists, pushing Optimus's head away.
"He'll make this kind for you from now on, I'm sure." And he watches his intended work, admiring the lines of his back, which Optimus doesn't get to see nearly enough of.
Firefly makes a face, but doesn't say anything because Ultra turns and hands the little bot a cube. The mech squeals happily as he starts to drink it down. Setting the sparkling on a chair, Optimus smiles as Ultra kisses him softly, "I think he likes it."
Optimus steals a kiss, "Do you think he would enjoy watching a movie?" He has dozens of them, if not hundreds at this point; all things Sari has brought or left. Most of them still confuse him.
Ultra shrugs, "Most likely."
Firefly finishes his energon, fluttering to Ultra's turrets, "Guns!"
Ultra and Optimus exchange a look, "No guns, Firefly." Optimus reaches up, "Want to see a movie?"
The sparkling frowns at him, "Snow White?"
He shrugs, "If you want to see it again, we can. There are other ones if you don't."
"Snow White," Firefly repeats, looking longingly up at Ultra's turrets. Optimus holds Firefly and puts the movie in, keeping the sparkling on his lap. He couldn't expect to spend all of his time perched up on Ultra's shoulders. He'd outgrow that space at some point, with his Seeker frame.
They all curl up on the couch, watching it easily. Ultra is confused as they go, clearly not very sure what a step mother is, nor why she would want to kill Snow White; or why there is all this singing. But Optimus' intended just sits through it without comment.
For that, Optimus decides he'll sit through one of the incomprehensible plays that Ultra seems to genuinely enjoy. The ones performed in ancient Cybertronian, that Optimus only understands half of. Firefly seems to be enjoying the film again; sparklings did love repetition, much to many a bot's annoyance.
When they finish the movie, Ultra doesn't say anything, just gives the credits a confused look. Optimus pats his mech on the arm, and asks Firefly softly, "Want another movie?"
The sparkling glances at the screen, "Again?"
Repetition. Fantastic. Optimus smiles, "Are you sure you don't want to watch a different one? Sari brought many of them."
"Snow White." The sparkling crosses his arms over his chest defiantly.
He sighs, "If you're certain? She showed me one about a giant robot, if you'd like that one?" He still isn't sure what a beatnik is, but he thinks Firefly may like "The Iron Giant."
The little mech glares at him defiantly, "Snow White."
Optimus sets it to start again, and curls up against Ultra.
The mech is just as visibly confused the second time through the film, which Optimus finds oddly adorable. He leans up and whispers in his audio, "Do you think you can manage to stay a few megacycles after Firefly gets taken home?"
Ultra's optics brighten with interest, and he murmurs back, "I certainly won't say no."
Kissing his intended softly, he smiles, "That'd be nice."
Firefly turns and hisses at them, "Be quiet!"
Biting back a laugh, Optimus pats Firefly's head. "Sorry. We'll stay quiet now." He waits 'til Firefly is watching again and sends Ultra a text. We distracted him from his very important movie.
And we can't have that, can we? Ultra runs a finger along his headfin, I look forward to licking these when we're alone, Optimus.
He blushes brightly, engine reving slightly, and scoots away just a bit, not wanting to disrupt Firefly's movie watching.
Firefly slaps his thigh, "Stay still."
Ultra grins, and sends another message, You do have a hard time staying still when I nibble on those headfins. I love that.
Optimus twitches again, metaphorically kicking his engines so they stop revving. Giving Ultra a dark look, he sends back, If you keep doing this, I will remove my invitation for you to stay after. I have a sparkling on my lap.
A smug smile settles itself on Ultra's face, and Optimus barely restrains himself from doing something to get that look gone. He did want Ultra to stay after; just not be so self-satisfied about getting Optimus's engine revving.
Thinking about it, he waits until he knows a dramatic part of the movie is coming up, and sends over, And I was thinking that I'd be licking YOUR headfins rather than you playing with mine.
The answering engine roar and Firefly's scolding made him smile.
Ultra pulls Optimus over and kisses him, glossa delving into his mouth, ignoring Firefly's startled squeak from his lap. His optics lock on Optimus's, and he replies, I'll hold you to that. You make it so very difficult to behave.
Optimus settles back down slowly, petting Firefly's wing to soothe him and get him paying attention to the film once more.
By the time Sunstorm, Bumblebee, and Blurr return, they've watched the movie several more times, and Optimus is recharging on Ultra. Starting awake at the knock, he sits up, rubbing his optics. Ultra gets off the couch, letting them in, and Firefly launches out of his lap straight into Sunstorm's arms, chattering about what he did that sol.
Standing up, Optimus stretches out as Bee asks, "Park?"
Firefly immediately launches into a screechy version of one of the songs from Snow White, and Optimus cringes. "We took him out to play with the other sparklings for a while. He enjoyed himself, and kissed every sparkling that he could."
Instead of paying attention to his answer, Bumblebee is staring in horror at Firefly. "Bossbot, do you hate me or somethin'?"
Astonished, Optimus shakes his head, "No, of course not!"
"Then why the slag did you let Firefly watch Disney films?"
Optimus looks at Firefly, then at Ultra. Ultra, cowardbot he is, carefully pulls Blurr to the side and explains how to mix the energon for the sparkling. Looking at Bumblebee, he straightens up, and says, very clearly, "Sari is the one that did it first."
"Frag." Bumblebee rubs his helmet. "He's going to be singing that for decacycles." Sunstorm, after a few repetitions, has apparently picked up the song lyrics, and begins singing along with Firefly. Bumblebee winces. "Worst sparklingsitters ever."
Optimus coughs behind his servo, "But Lockdown will most likely be showing you the various pictures he took of Firefly in the park." He sighs softly, "We even ended up painting more elite wings on all the sparklings there." He gives his beloved a slightly dirty look. "Even if Ultra didn't impress on the ones he painted how important those wings are."
"Aw, bossbot," Bumblebee whines, "they gave me Elite wings. I'm not thinkin' it means as much as it used to. I mean-"
Opitmus cuts him off, "You earned them, Bumblebee."
Bee just looks at the floor, rubbing the back of his helmet, "I was just there, doing what anyone would do."
Putting a servo on the minibot's shoulder, he shakes his head, "You fought more than any of the bots that came after us, Bee. Don't make light of it."
Bee rolls his optics, "So you keep saying." Blurr returns to Bee's side, thanking Ultra as he does so, and Bee straightens up, "Okay, we got everything we need?"
"Yes, my gorgeous little Bee," Sunstorm coos, scooping him up in his other arm. He bows theatrically to Optimus, still with his minibot and his sparkling held tight. "We are eternally grateful, dearest Optimus. Please, anytime you wish to take care of Firefly in the future, only let us know, and we will be delighted to turn him over to you for a solar cycle."
Optimus watches them leave, and when the door closes, he leans against Ultra, saying, "I can never tell when that bot is being sarcastic."
Ultra puts an arm around his shoulders, "I have even less practice than you, Optimus. He could have been honest, he was singing with Firefly. ... Now." His mech's arm drops lower, and drags Optimus closer, pulling him up, holding his aft, "I believe you had something in mind for us now that we're alone?"
His engine revs, and Optimus shifts up so he can get his mouth up against Ultra's audio. "You mean this?" He drags his glossa up Ultra's headfin, nipping the tip of it. "Was that what you had in mind?"
Ultra's engine revs loudly, sending a vibration through the both of their frames. "You could say that, Optimus."
Sucking on it for a moment, Optimus licks the fin teasingly, "Are you going to hold me in the middle of the room, or are you going to get into a more comfortable position?" He laps at the base of the fin, using a servo to play with the other.
Had he not had so much recent experience standing up in front of the Council, Optimus might have been fidgeting nervously. The Bronze Wheel had always been out of his price range for affordable theater. This had never bothered Optimus for the sole reason that he had never had any desire to see any of the plays they produced. Primus, he had the horrible suspicion that he'd enjoy watching the paint flake off of his own armor more than whatever it was they'd agreed to watch with Arcee and Ratchet.
He can only half understand it, since it is entirely in ancient Cybertronian. He watches as a cyclebot jumps through a fake window, and the police bots scream something about catching the escaping carbot. He's not exactly sure why they are claiming what is obviously a cyclebot is a carbot; it isn't like you can't find a carbot just walking down the street, being one of the more common models. The "carbot" makes a loud speech that he's fairly certain was the mech searching for his sparkmate. He's even more confused when the femme is refered to as a mech, and the "carbot" is referred to as a femme.
Venting a quiet sigh, he glances over at Arcee and Ratchet. Arcee is as entranced as Ultra is, but Ratchet looks puzzled. At least Optimus is not alone in his confusion. When Ultra gasps audibly, Optimus turns back to examine the stage—and there are three mechs lying in a pool of horribly fake energon. How the frag had that happened in the nanokliks he'd had his optics off the action?
Fine. He's just going to be confused the rest of the time, since he apparently missed some pivotal scene. Not that it would have helped, he's sure.
Ultra was able to arrange a private box for them, and Optimus appreciates that the bots here are too high class to gawk at them. Much. He'd noticed the tabloid bot again, before they'd taken their seats.
He wonders how a tabloid bot even managed to get in here, but ignores the thought to return to being horribly confused by the play. The "femme carbot" is wandering around on stage, talking about... something. He can't understand a single word he is saying. The mech is talking far too fast, and using words he doesn't know.
He glances out the corner of his optic just as Ratchet is doing the same. The medicbot shrugs helplessly, and he does the same in return. If anything, Ratchet is more confused than he is, since the other bot doesn't even have a small translating patch installed.
Composing a text, he sends it to Ratchet, even though it's considered rude to do so while in a setting like this. Did you happen to see what killed those three bots? I missed it.
Ratchet coughs, and Arcee gives him a narrow-opticked look, clearly suspicious. It's not until she's entrenched in the play again before Optimus gets a reply. Sorry, kid. I THINK it was some act of Primus. They just sorta toppled over, offlined.
This play makes no sense. He watches as a carbot jumps to the forefront, painted grey with fake long limbs that have a wheel on the servo and peds. The "dead" bot wanders around, pretending to eat each of the fallen bots. It is with dawning horror that he realizes who that is supposed to be. Thank Primus that Sari isn't here. She'd be horribly upset that Oil Slick is being treated like this, he sends to Ratchet.
The medic bot sends back instantly, I don't even LIKE the guy, and I feel pretty bad just WATCHING it.
The play continues, and Optimus's intakes hitch with shock when a minibot comes out, painted yellow, with a large blue circle on his chest. The minibot runs over to Oil Slick and jumps up on him, kissing him lewdly.
Ultra's servo squeezes his tightly, and he's hit with a sudden text, Slag it, Optimus, I'm sorry. The reviews NEVER mentioned this.
The minibot is held in Oil Slick's arms as various bots representing the team and a few other notable bots show up, and Optimus stands up. "I can't watch this."
He turns around and leaves, not caring about what's going on in the play, while Ultra, Arcee, and Ratchet follow him closely. They all walk past various bots, not talking to any of them until they get a manager bot practically jumping in front of them, "I'm so sorry. If I had known, I would have told you, but the director just said something about surprises and wouldn't let anyone see!"
Optimus raises his servos to cut the bot off, "It's not your fault, I'm sure. I just can't stay and watch." He rubs his fingers against Ultra's. "We should go."
The bot jumps in front of them again, "No, please, at least let me refund your tickets. And offer you free tickets to another show, of your choosing. We have dozens of other directors and playwrights here, and I will personally preview their scripts and performances."
He wants to refuse, but he knows that he can't without seeming like the worst bot on Cybertron. Instead, he smiles kindly, and tugs Ultra to the front, making him answer for them. Ultra kneels down, so he's closer to the manager's level, "If you feel like it is needed, we can. But we do not expect it."
"I insist," the manager wrings his servos nervously. "I'm personally offended by the play that we all inadvertently watched. The director and playwright are never going to work in this theater house again, I promise you that!"
Arcee crosses her arms over her chest. "They'd better not."
"I absolutely assure you it will never happen again." The manager sends them all his frequency, "Just contact me when you decide to come again."
They all thank him quietly, and leave. Optimus is immensely irritated to catch a flash of that tabloid bot following them for a moment before taking off.
They part ways with Arcee and Ratchet halfway back, promising to meet them again soon, for a better date. Ultra drives alongside Optimus all the way to his apartment, kissing him outside the main doors. "It wouldn't do for me to come up with you this late in the evening." He smiles, "I'll see you tomorrow, Optimus."
The truckbot waves at him, and only enters his building when he can no longer see Ultra's lights. The securitybot gives him a concerned look. "You're back awfully early, sir."
Optimus shakes his head, "The play was changed part way through into something truly offensive without the manager or anyone else's knowledge. We decided it was best to leave, and reschedule the date for another time."
The securitybot frowns, "I'm sorry, sir. I hope your next one is a lot better. No one likes a date that doesn't go as planned."
Smiling in a friendly manner, Optimus nods, "Yes. We hope the next goes more according to plan." He wants to get a decent amount of recharge. "I'm heading up."
The securitybot waves, "Have a good night, sir."
Optimus waves behind him, giving the securitybot a small smile as he steps into the elevator. When he gets to his room, he drinks a single cube of energon as he settles down to watch the news, and see how badly out of proportion they blow the walk out.
It is a few solar cycles later, and he's getting ready for the makeup date. He makes a face at the mirror, kind of irritated how a scuff just isn't coming out on his helmet, when there's a knock at the door.
He resigns himself to having that scuff for the entirety of the date, because Ultra has decided to show up early. Optimus tucks his polishing cloth into his subspace, and commands the door open. He smiles, "Ultra, I wasn't expecting you so-" he stops. The bot in the hallway is not Ultra Magnus. It's the cursed tabloid bot that's been stalking them. He hardens his gaze, "I'm not doing a report for you, if that's what you're after. How did you get past security?"
Optimus calls up his com to complain to the securitybot staff, and his intakes hitch. His com is down.
The bright red and blue cyclebot smiles at him, but there's something off about it, something that has Optimus's servo twitching towards the subspace storage of his axe. "Security didn't put up much of a fight. I practically walked right through."
He starts sending out texts to his team that call for help as the cyclebot pulls out a sword. He yanks out his axe, blocking the blow aimed straight at his spark. "That is doubtful."
The bot aims for his head, "It was pathetically simple, he only saw my colors, and just let me on by. Not even asking where I was going, you'd think he just wants you dead."
Optimus gets the axe up in time to deflect the attack, but the sword manages to slide cleanly through one of his headfins, severing it. The cyclebot laughs, loud and harsh, and lunges at him. Unfortunately for his attacker, Optimus has suffered far worse battle wounds, and he knocks the sword out of his servos. He winces when the sword crashes directly into the shelf of videos that Sari had carefully reorganized only a decacycle ago.
Energon is leaking down the side of his helmet, but it's a minor leak, and it's not getting in his optics, so he can safely ignore it. "What can you possibly hope to gain from this?" he asks, swinging at the bot with the intent to disable him. "Surrender now, and the courts will be lenient with you."
The cyclebot hisses, and one of his arms transforms into a gun, which he aims at Optimus, "You're responsible for ending this war!" Optimus dodges several shots, deflecting the ones he can't avoid with his axe. His couch breaks in half and shatters spectacularly loudly. "I'm going to get revenge for Megatron!"
Optimus swings at the muzzle of the gun, hoping to cut it off, missing just barely, "Revenge? Last I heard, he was hiding someplace with Starscream. Sari said something," he dodges a shot at his head, and it shatters his mirror, "about him having a sparkling."
The cyclebot shrieks, shooting wildly, "Sari? That techno-organic whore?" Optimus moves the fight to a different room as the mech continues his ranting, "She's one of the reasons the Decepticons lost! When I take care of you, she's going to be next!"
"You're not going to get a chance," he swears, dodging more shots that manage to break one of the few pieces of art that Optimus had kept in the apartment. He'd liked that picture. It was of very pretty crystals. The bot snarls and lunges at him, and Optimus takes the opportunity presented to him, one he'd had to practice thousands of times with his academy trainers and had used frequently on the bots on Earth. He pulls a pair of stasis cuffs from his subspace, twists to avoid the bot's attack, and snaps the cuff on one of the bot's wrists to debilitate him.
The bot wobbles unsteadily before falling on his face. He snaps the other cuff on the mech's other arm, and drags the bot back to his living room. He wants to kick the bot in the head, but refrains, knowing it is better not to do such things to a disabled opponent.
Dropping the bot in the middle of the floor, he picks up his sliced headfin, and frowns at the broken mirror. Pulling out a new one, he starts to work on the patch job when Ultra rushes through the still open door, "Optimus! You're okay!"
Optimus glances back at him, and then returns to welding his headfin back on. Flicking the welder off, he frowns. That was . . . a horrible patch job, to be honest. The fin was completely crooked, and Ratchet was going to yell at him. "I'm alright, yes." He gestures at the disabled bot on the floor. "Got the bot responsible cuffed up nicely."
Ultra rushes over to him and pulls him into a tight embrace, before pushing him back at arm's length to study him for any injuries he might be hiding. Aside from a few scorch lines where shots narrowly missed, and the headfin, Optimus is fine.
Ultra, on the other hand, has energon and oil on him. Optimus freezes, "The securitybot?"
Ultra nods, "He's missing a leg, and had been dragged into the back office. I grabbed a medic bot off the street after doing a quickpatch." Optimus pulls Ultra into a hug, letting his intended hold him close, as he continues, "After that, I called up more medic bots, and finally Autobot command." Ultra pauses, kissing him softly, "I'm glad you're not hurt too badly."
There's the sound of cursing as the cyclebot onlines, "Not from lack of trying!"
Ultra looks over at the mech, to Optimus. Letting go of him, his beloved walks over to the cyclebot, and kicks the bot in the head hard enough to offline the mech again.
Optimus pulls Ultra away from the mech. "Ultra!" he raises his voice. "He's in stasis cuffs." He pulls a mouthclamp from his subspace and attaches it on the captive bot. "Primus, you of all bots should know you don't abuse prisoners like that, even if they deserve it."
His intended watches him, "Exceptions can be made in extraordinary circumstances." He looks at the bot again. "Optimus," he starts, waiting for Optimus to look at him, "do you always have stasis cuffs and mouthclamps in your subspace?"
Optimus gives the other mech a confused look, "... you don't?"
Ultra opens his mouth, and seems at a loss for words. His intended is saved from answering by all of Optimus's team suddenly showing up in rapid succession. Prowl is there first, actually coming in through the window, holding his throwing stars as he ninja-rolls in, looking confused at the lack of violence. Bee is next, weapons charged and obviously having just run up the stairs with Blurr. While Ratchet comes in a little more sedately with Arcee, Jazz, Lockdown, and Sunstorm from the elevator.
They all stare at the stasis-cuffed bot on the floor, still offline from the kick Ultra had delivered. "So, you handled it on your own, kid?" Lockdown asks, patting Optimus on the shoulder.
Optimus ignores him, turning to Ratchet, who already looks like he's about to yell at him for the patchjob on his headfin. "Ratchet, the securitybot was severely damaged. Are his repairs finished yet?"
"Slagging no, Optimus," Ratchet grumbles, "seeing as none of us knew if you were even online still. I'm going back down for him, and you are going to see me for that headfin after we get the both of you to the hospital."
Optimus nods, "Well, let's head down, then. I'll fill out a report at the hospital. Where is Sari?"
Lockdown picks up the offline cyclebot as they walk out, and Bee answers, "She's down in the lobby with Cyclonus, helping out with Turboshadow."
Locking the door after them, Optimus gives the minibot a confused look, "Turboshadow? Is that the-"
Bee gives him a exasperated look, "The securitybot, yes. Do you just... not pay attention?"
Prowl chuckles, "That's rich coming from you, Bumblebee."
The minibot huffs at them, and is promptly scooped up by Sunstorm. "My little Bee pays attention when he needs to," the Seeker croons, kissing one of his tiny horns.
Rethinking an earlier opinion, Optimus decides that it is a good thing that Ultra never scoops him up like that. It's extremely undignified.
They all file into the elevator, bickering back and forth about Bee's ability to observe until they head out to the lobby. Turboshadow is being gently put into an ambulancebot, while Sari pats his servo comfortingly, when they get there. One of the medic bots takes one look at Optimus's headfin, and opens his mouth to say something when Ratchet cuts the bot off, "He can drive there himself, I'll be there to watch him as he does."
Optimus transforms without any trouble—the damage he's sustained is minimal, and really, he doesn't need a full scan at this point. He just needs his headfin repaired, and he can buff out the other burns without much effort on his own. Nevertheless, he's watched closely by his team, surrounded by them as they drive. It warms his spark and irritates the frag out of him at the same time.
He transforms back into bot mode when they get to the hospital, letting Ratchet drag him off to a room. Pulling out a datapad, he starts to work on writing up the report while the rest of his team flutters around him like unsettled birds. He just ducks down when Ratchet yanks on his head to fix his headfin, not even paying attention as the mech grumbles at him.
A servo takes the datapad from him, and Optimus looks up to complain, only to find Ultra reading it. "You're filing your report already, Optimus?"
"Of course I am," he steals the pad back to finish. He wrote a report after he'd slagging offlined. Of course he was writing his report now.
Ratchet shoos Ultra away, "I'm working here. He's done this while in worse repair, don't worry about it."
He doesn't see Ultra's upset look, "What do you mean? Is this like when he talked about coming back from the Well of All Sparks?"
He can hear the roll in Ratchet's optics as the bot responds, "No. More like how he insisted on writing a report while missing an arm."
"It was a clean injury," Optimus protests, "and there was no reason not to get the report finished while the incident was fresh in my processor. You reattached the arm successfully, and I got the report done. It was a win-win."
Ultra and Ratchet both stare at him. He doesn't understand it.
He returns to the report, ignoring the feelings of pain as Ratchet takes off the numbing program, and those of pleasure as Ultra pulls him into his lap. He unconsciously hides the report as Ultra tries to read it over his shoulder, while still writing it.
When Ultra reaches to tip the datapad so he can read it, Optimus knocks his servo away irritably, "No, Starscream." His intended freezes against him, and Optimus reviews what he'd just said. Slag. "Sorry. I'm just a bit distracted."
Tugging Ultra down, he kisses his beloved. Ultra wraps both arms around him, murmuring, "I'm so sorry I didn't come earlier, Optimus."
Optimus tilts the report a bit so they can both see it, "It's fine, I'm with you now."
Ratchet shakes his head, before giving Ultra a polishing cloth. "Make yourself useful and clean him up while he works. Optimus isn't going to stop until he finishes his report." Ultra stares bemusedly at the cloth, before beginning to carefully clean the truckbot. Optimus shivers.
He wants to shy away from the touch, reminded of how Starscream used to clean him, but forces himself to stay still, since it is Ultra. After a moment, he returns to the report. He's almost finished when Cyclonus wanders into the room, looking halfway lost and all uncaring. He puts down the datapad, "Are you okay, Cyclonus?"
The jet blinks at him blankly, "Sari said to inform you that she is with Turboshadow, and you are all to join her when you are well enough. I am to show you how to get there." The mech sits on the floor in the corner, staring at the wall, before anyone can respond.
Ratchet gives the jet a strange look. "We'll be done in just a klik."
Cyclonus makes no sign to acknowledge that he heard or cared about what Ratchet said. Typical behavior for Cyclonus, really.
Optimus is starting to get comfortable and even enjoy Ultra's polishing when Ratchet announces that he's finished, and they should head up to join the rest of them. He's disappointed that he hasn't finished his report yet.
Cyclonus stands up swiftly, and walks out of the room, not even looking behind to make sure they're following. He shoves the datapad into his sub-space, and slips off Ultra's lap to go after the jetbot. He makes sure to grab the larger mech's servo as they walk, though; unwilling to let his beloved think he's ignoring him.
Warmth radiates up his arm from the touch; Ultra is a reassuring presence at his side, and Optimus is glad to have him here. They stand together in the elevator, and the truckbot hopes the securitybot is making a solid recovery. Slag, if his company doesn't give him a raise after this, Optimus is going to give the bot a pay-raise himself.
They get to the room easily, and Sari is sitting at the edge of the berth, holding Turboshadow's servo gently. The securitybot waves at them weakly, "You didn't have to come, you know."
Sari gives him a dirty look, "Like hell they didn't. I told Cyclonus to bring them, so they had better come."
She squeezes his servo, and Optimus notes the faint blush on the securitybot's cheeks. Turboshadow looks at Optimus with a solemn expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, sir. I tried to stop him, but he knocked me offline before I could reach the alarm."
Walking over to the mech, he puts a servo on his shoulder. "You tried your best." Giving the bot a smile, he continues, "He was tired when he got to my room, I imagine it would would have been much harder than it already was if you hadn't gotten to him first."
"I appreciate the kindness, sir, but I know I didn't help much." Turboshadow rubs the back of his head. "You fought Megatron and came out on top."
"Any bot can be lethal with under the right circumstances, Turboshadow," Optimus says, gently. "He had the element of surprise on his side. If he'd been luckier, he could have offlined me. Particularly if he'd had no opposition on the way in."
The securitybot's blush deepens before he murmurs, "If you say so, sir."
Optimus smiles, "Of course I do."
They watch as Sari snaps her fingers, and Cyclonus seems to materialize next to her. She digs into the jetbot's sub-space to pull out a cube of energon, then hands it over to Turboshadow, "Drink this. AllSpark says you're starving."
He takes a sip and his optics go wide. "I can't drink this! It's far too fine a grade." He pushes the cube towards her, and she pushes it back. "I'll be fine with the medical-grade they offer here."
"You'll drink it," she insists, "or I'll have Optimus pour it down your throat."
Optimus gives her a shocked look, "Sari! I wouldn't do that to him!"
She gives him a calculating look, "You're right. I'll have Lockdown do it."
Turboshadow looks over to the bounty hunter, who gives the securitybot a smile that feels distinctly disturbing, and drinks the energon with no further complaints. Sari shoves another cube in his servo shortly after he finishes.
"An Elite will be along later to take your account of the incident," Optimus warns him. "We want to put the mech behind bars for this."
Sari scowls, and pats Turboshadow's arm, prompting another flush. "Should have offlined him for what he did to the both of you."
Optimus frowns at her, "Sari, it is always better to avoid a death if you can."
She rolls her eyes, but doesn't say anything. Turboshadow shifts nervously, looking at everyone in his room. "Did you need anything else, sir?"
"Only to make sure that you are doing well. And to let you know that all of your medical costs will be paid for by the Elite Guard." Turbowshadow makes as if to protest, and Optimus raises a servo to stop him. "I would have it no other way, for a mech who was injured in the act of saving my life."
The securitybot looks like he wants to sink into the berth and hide. "If you say so, sir," comes the whispered reply.
Patting the mech's shoulder, Optimus smiles down at the bot. "You put your life on the line. Such bravery is to be commended."
"I was only doing my job, sir," Turboshadow says, ducking his head down.
Ultra steps forward and clasps Turboshadow's servo. "A job that asked you to risk yourself to save Optimus. We are all thankful for your efforts."
Turboshadow looks at Ultra's servo on his, and glances from it to Ultra's face, back and forth several times as he talks, "I only did what anyone would have done in my place, sir."
"And bots are alive today because of your efforts," Optimus says. "He had planned on going after Sari. Many bots would have hidden themselves and tried not to make a scene. That you did not speaks of your courage. I won't let you belittle that."
Turboshadow glances over at Sari, and the faint blush is back, "I'm glad I managed to slow him down then, sir."
Sari tilts her head, frowning, "Okay, everyone. He needs to sleep. Unless you have something important to say, get out." Optimus is about to open his mouth, but Sari gives him a sharp look. "He gets that you're proud of him. He's also clearly trying to hide from your praise. Out." Everyone files out of the room, leaving only the techo-organic and Cyclonus, and Optimus can faintly hear Sari say to Turboshadow, "And you have another cube to finish before we leave as well," before the door shuts behind Prowl.
Optimus slumps a bit. "My apartment is a mess. Any volunteers to help me with it?"
He's pulled into Ultra's arms. "You can clean it tomorrow. You can stay with me tonight."
Leaning against his beloved, Optimus looks at Lockdown, "Is that allowed?"
The bounty hunter gives him a slightly disturbing grin, but not the worst one he's had directed at him. "Only if you're in the guest room, Optimus. But, yeah, this is a good time to start phasing you over to Ultra's home."
He gives Lockdown a sharp look. He doesn't like that they just assume he'll be moving in with Ultra. "Of course." Optimus smiles up at Ultra. "I would love to stay tonight."
Ultra leans down, arms wrapped around him lovingly, and kisses him softly. "Should we wait for Sari, or would she be overly irritated at us for doing so?"
Optimus shrugs, "We can just ask her."
He's about to slip out of Ultra's grip when Arcee walks over to Turboshadow's room, and looks in. There's a muffled conversation, and Arcee closes the door, "She says that if we want to stay, we can, but it may take awhile. She's going to stay with him until he falls into recharge. She doesn't mind if we leave."
Bumblee, Ratchet, and their partners choose to stay, but Optimus needs to finish his reports and get some recharge. He's fairly certain that Ratchet slipped some sort of sedative into his system, because he's feeling much more tired than he should be after such a short and simple conflict.
Please Review
That is all for today. More tomorrow. Vivienne is still the reason this is even out. Visit her in my favorite author's pane.
