Series Title: Wonderful One Night Stand

Chapter Four: To Tell Or Not To Tell...

Pairing: Slight Prowl/Jazz, slight Sunny/Bee/Sides, slight Ratchet/Wheeljack/Bee

Rating: R

Warnings: creative language, MechxMech

Summary: There are certain after-effects that come from a raunchy one night stand with the minibot hating twins, but Bumblebee wasn't expecting any of them.

Prowl didn't bother knocking on the door to the saboteur's office, but simply put in his override code and walked inside. Jazz glared up at him, dropping a datapad onto a pile with a little more force than necessary. He didn't look away from the other black and white mech after that, daring the enforcer to open the conversation.

"I know about your feelings for Bumblebee." Whatever the saboteur had been expecting, that wasn't it. "I've known for some time that you were in denial about how you felt. I take it from my observation of your actions earlier that you've spent some time thinking things through?" Jazz was quiet, his visor dim as he leaned back in his chair.

"It ain't fair, Prowler." Ignoring the somewhat annoying nickname, Prowl moved closer to the TIC's desk, wondering how this would play out. "Ah jus' figured out how Ah felt, an' all this slag happens!" He shook his helm and got up from his chair, walking around the desk to throw his arms around the other mech.

"Why couldn't Ah have figured it out sooner? When ah coulda done somethin'?" Prowl hugged the other mech back, trying to offer comfort, even though it wasn't his forte. "Ah know he's wit Ratchet and 'Jack, but if they're willin' ta share him then Ah thought maybe Ah'd have a shot."

He shook his helm, leaning up to kiss Prowl's cheek. "But Ah know the twin's don't share wit no bot. An' Ah can tell tha' they're startin' ta' feel for him tha same way Ah do." Unable to keep himself from grinning as a cruel thought flitted through his processor, the Datsun kissed Jazz back and pulled away.

"Poor Bumblebee. Being caught in the middle of that much relationship slag won't be good for his stress levels."

(Scene Change)

"I still think we should just outright tell them what's going on."

"No." Bumblebee pouted as his suggestion was shot down for the third time since the start of the meeting. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe even agreed with Command, an incredibly rare thing, about keeping the sparklings a secret for as long as possible.

The minibot wondered why he had even bothered to come to the meeting when it seemed like no one was listening to him. Ratchet was hovering over his shoulder, talking with Prime about setting up a nursery to raise the sparklings, some place safe and preferably away from any prying eyes.

Jazz and Prowl were listening closely to the medbot, who was talking about bringing Wheeljack in to design defense mechanisms for the room. He was hoping that they would be allowed to build something that could stop even Megatron if the Warlord decided to repeat the carnage his soldiers unleashed on the youth sectors.

"Wheeljack can design such a weapon?" Ratchet shifted uncomfortably and reset his vocalizer.

"Technically, he's already built the weapon, but he hasn't had a chance to test it yet." Bumblebee giggled, leaning away from the medbot and glancing over at the engineer sitting by the door. "Mostly because the power core keeps exploding." Wheeljack's helm fins flashed several different colors, making the minibot giggle again, before Ratchet forcibly turned his helm to face frontwards.

Prime couldn't help but smile indulgently, though the expression was only visible through his optics. Bumblebee saw the affection for what it was and smiled happily at his Commander, kicking his pedes in the too-tall chair at having received such praise, even if it was silent.

Sunstreaker reached out and wiped at a scuff mark on the little yellow mini's shoulder, seemingly oblivious to the way the rest of the bots in the room tensed. "When's the last time you waxed, 'Bee?" The minibot opened his mouth to reply before quickly closing it and looking away in embarrassment. Raising an optic ridge, Sunstreaker crossed his arms.

"It might have been..." Trailing off and mumbling the rest of his reply, Bumblebee was drawing curious look from the rest of the mechs in the room, so he sighed through his vents and repeated himself. "A few cycles before the party." Shrugging his shoulders at the incredulous look from the golden warrior, the minibot leaned back, embarrassment making his faceplates turn a soft pink.

"It's actually a good thing that 'Bee hasn't waxed. I don't doubt that your carrier protocols have been warding you off from waxing for the last few cycles, right?" Turning in his seat to stare curiously at the medbot, who had the complete attention of the room, Bumblebee cautiously nodded.

"If you happened to wax in a closed off or heated room, like the washracks, the fumes you would intake through your vents slow down your energon flow, which would severely hamper the development of the sparklings." Optics widening, 'Bee shifted in his seat and glanced at the scuff on his shoulder.

"That can totally stay there." Sunstreaker nodded his agreement, to the surprise of the other mech's in the room, and then Prowl reset his vocalizer to get everybot's attention.

"Now that we're all in agreement, I believe we should run through the plans once more before finalizing them."

"We'll order the building of a 'safe room', which Grapple won't argue with as it will help to get Red Alert off his backplates." Ratchet counted off the first step as he finally sat down in the chair next to Bumblebee, grabbing the smaller bot's servo tightly. "Then allow Wheeljack to help with the design for security purposes."

The room they had selected for the safe room was actually a large storage area located just underneath the medbay and it was only accessible through Ratchet's office. "We'll have a meeting with ranked officer's about what the safe room is really for, after Bumblebee moves into it. Since it's close to the medbay, it'll be easier for him to receive check-ups."

Bumblebee sighed as they continued outlining just how the next six orns would work, when a nagging thought jumped into his processor. "Excuse me?" He raised an arm, as he had seen human children do when they wanted to ask a question.

"Yes, Bumblebee?" Prime became wary once Bumblebee began to fidget.

"I'm certainly not trying to be pessimistic here, but how am I going to carry these sparklings all the way to their projected birth date?" Silence met his question and Bumblebee glanced around the room at the mostly gawking mechs. "Tiny minibot here, carrying two full-sized mech sparklings. Big size difference."

Ratchet's vocalizer seemed to short as he realized what the minibot was alluding to. "Fraggin Primus... They'll be nearly a fourth your size when they're born." He shook his helm, squeezing Bumblebee's servo and going over the calculations in his head. "Which means that together, they'll be almost half your size. Even if you manage to carry them to term, you won't be able to walk for the last orn!"

Groaning, Bumblebee let his helm thunk against the back of his chair. "Ugh, I don't want to be invalid! Why'd I have to be a micro-bot?" Sideswipe, who had been quiet for most of the meeting, working on pulling investments for his sparklings future, leaned over to stare at the little yellow bot.

"Micro-bot? I thought you were a minibot." Bumblebee giggled, a playful smile on his faceplates.

"No, I'm a micro-bot. A micro-bot is a minibot that's so mini, he has to be called micro." The red mech's optics widened and he began laughing, closely followed by Jazz and Sunstreaker. He nearly dropped the datapad he had clenched in one servo. "But seriously, can we set up a system of some sort that, even if I can't walk, I'll still be able to get around without help?"

"No." Ratchet glared as Bumblebee started to pout. "I said no, and I mean no. If we put in a pulley system of some kind and it glitched while you were sitting in it, it could drop you or crush you and I won't let something like that in my medbay and certainly not into a safe room. Alright?" He pretended like the minibot had agreed then nodded his helm. "But thank you for mentioning it."

Bumblebee muttered quietly, the extra energy in his spark bouncing around excitedly as it pushed a little further down into his gestation tank. The dim ache was left over from his tank spreading, ready to accept the tiny lifeforms, and Bumblebee rubbed over the spot, unable to keep himself from smiling happily as the larger bots continued to talk over him.

What he didn't notice was Sunstreaker's optics zeroing in on where his servo intertwined with Ratchet's. The golden mech stood up, ignoring the way the conversation halted, and pulled his seat closer to the minibot's. Then he grabbed the small black servo over 'Bee's stomach plates and sat back down, glaring at Ratchet.

Sideswipe, noticing the challenge for what it was, quickly moved to stand behind his brother, crossing his arms and glaring at the medbot. Wheeljack stood up and, mirroring Sideswipe, he stood behind Ratchet, who completely ignored him in favor of reaching for something to throw at the twins.

The tension in the room was thick, but quickly broken as Jazz began laughing. "Sorry, sorry!" Snickering, the saboteur leaned over the Command table. "Ya look kinda lost there, 'Bee." All four mechs glanced down at the minibot, who seemed incredibly startled.

"If you mechs start a serious fight, can I not be sitting between you?" Standing up, Optimus Prime reached forward and plucked the little yellow bot from his seat. Ignoring the indignant shouts from Sunstreaker and Ratchet, he placed Bumblebee on the arm-rest of his chair, chuckling at the smile on the minibot's faceplates.

"Proceed." He nodded at the other four mechs, who seemed to have forgotten that they were fighting and choosing instead to glare at Prime, pouting much like younglings would.

"Enough." Prowl was using his battle voice, startling the mechs in the room. "This is a serious situation, with a bot's life on the line, and you're acting like he's a toy." He glanced at Bumblebee and shot the minibot the tiniest of smiles in apology at the terminology. Then Optimus stood up to address the assembled bots.

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker will be helping Ratchet clean out the storage room. You can go now because the sooner it gets done, the better. Prowl will be heading down to speak with Grapple about the safe room. Wheeljack will go to his lab and prep defenses for the nursery and then Bumblebee will report to Jazz' office to get the paperwork handled for his 'vacation'. Dismissed."

No one argued with Prime as the larger bot waved them towards the door.

(Scene Change)

As the door hissed shut, Bumblebee turned to his Commander. "Thank you, sir." Though he felt stupid for sitting on the arm-rest of the larger mech's chair, he started kicking his pede's. "I'm sure nothing would've gotten done if you hadn't interrupted."

Prime chuckled, the deep rumble of his voice making Bumblebee's circuits sing. "It's what I'm here for, 'Bee." Reaching out one of his servo's, the red and blue bot grabbed a datapad from the desk in front of him. "I know you don't want to be on bed rest for that last orn, but if Ratchet says it must be done, there's not much I can do to stop him."

Glancing down at the minibot, who was pouting adorably, Prime handed him the datapad. "And to be completely honest, I would rather you be safe. I'm sorry, Bumblebee." Shrugging, the little yellow bot jumped down from the arm-rest, smiling brightly at Prime when the larger bot didn't move to help him.

Looking down at the datapad he had been handed, Bumblebee giggled. "1001 ways to deal with quarrelling lovers." He read the title out loud then tucked the pad into his subspace. "I'll be reading that tonight, no doubt."

(Scene Change)

Shuffling towards Jazz' office, the yellow minibot rubbed a servo over his stomach plates, wondering what he was going to do. He had honestly never wanted anything more out of life than a sparkling, but he didn't want to have it in the middle of a war. Especially a war that seemed never-ending.

He smiled and waved happily at the mech's he passed, giving them the same story Ratchet had used in the official medical report, that he had had too much high grade and it had left a painful charge in his systems.

They readily accepted the story, knowing that Bumblebee never drank much, and continued on their way when the minibot told them he had an appointment to get too. As he got to Jazz' door, Prowl was leaving, a soft smile on his faceplates as he looked down at the little yellow bot.

"I know I didn't say congratulations before, so I'm saying it now. Congratulations Bumblebee. It's amazing what you're doing." Flushing heavily at the praise, just as he always did when someone complimented him, Bumblebee nodded his thanks and walked into the office behind the larger mech.

Jazz was sitting at his desk, despondently filling out a datapad and grumbling about something. He waved the minibot inside, sending the command for the door to close once 'Bee cleared the frame. As he remembered that he had seen his Superior looking upset only the joor before, Bumblebee decided to figure out the problem.

"Sir? Is everything alright? You seem kind of upset." Snapping his helm up to look at the minibot in surprise, Jazz was quiet for nearly a klik before he started laughing loudly.

"Compared ta tha slag you're goin' through, everythin' is fine, 'Bee. But thanks for askin'." He smiled down at his subordinate, optics tracing over the minibot's slender frame before waving him towards the seat in front of his desk.

"Ah'm almost done fillin' out mah portion of this thing, then ya can finish it up." Not buying his superior's reason, but not wanting to push it, Bumblebee slid into the indicated seat.

"Still... Just let me know if I can help, Sir. With whatever the problem is." The black and white mech froze, a digit hovering over the datapad. Then Jazz stood up and walked around the desk, staring at the minibot.

"Ah want ta tell ya 'Bee, don' get me wrong. But it ain't important and Ah don't wanna stress ya out right now." Bumblebee pouted cutely, unconsciously arousing his superior.

"I'd like to hear about it, Sir, if telling me would help anything. I can at least listen to you rant if it's about something stupid, right?" Smiling, the minibot shifted in his chair. "I know it helps mechs to talk about their problems even if we don't tend to do it too often. Like when Bluestreak-"

Bumblebee never got to tell the humorous anecdote about Bluestreak because Jazz had suddenly leaned down and kissed him. After a few short astroseconds, the black and white mech pulled away, his optics focused on the minibot's shocked faceplates. Flushing, the minibot quickly stood from his seat, understanding dawning in his processor.

"Sir?" Sighing heavily through his vents, Jazz leaned back against his desk and shook his helm.

"Ah'm sorry, 'Bee. Sorry Ah didn't tell ya sooner."

"How long?" Bumblebee's question was quiet, nearly inaudible, but Jazz heard it regardless.

"Ah'm terrible abou' understandin' mah own feelin's. Ah didn't even stop ta think abou' all those times when Ah was upset abou' you bein' hurt or when Ah saw ya cuddlin' wit 'Jack or Ratch-man. Ah only figured out last night how Ah felt 'Bee, but it's been vorns." He smiled at the shocked look on the minbot's faceplates.

"And Ah know ya didn't need ta hear it, but Ah hate not tellin' a bot abou' how Ah feel. And Ah can tell jus' from watchin' 'em, tha' the twins are startin' ta feel the same way abou' you as Ah do. Ah didn't want ta bring up tha subject and jus' put more stress on ya."

Bumblebee slid into his chair, wondering how he had gotten into this mess in the first place. He loved Ratchet and Wheeljack with all of his spark, but the twins and Jazz had always been special to him too. He couldn't see himself hurting their feelings if it came down to a choice between the two front liners and his superior.

"Wow." Bumblebee recalled the datapad Optimus had given him. "I don't know what to do." Looking back up at Jazz, the minibot tried to smile. "Aside from never drinking high grade again." Snickering, Jazz reached out with one of his servo's and softly touched the minibot's cheek.

"Ah told ya Ah didn't want ta stress ya out." Bumblebee smiled and leaned his helm into the warm metal, dimming his optics. "Ah thought Ah could tell ya abou' it and then we'd talk ta Ratchet and Wheeljack, but then tha twins got curious." He shook his helm. "Why'd they have ta do it now?"

A small black servo pressed over his own and the sabotuer smiled down at the minibot. "I think it's best if I just take it one joor at a time. Try and work everything out as it comes up." Flashes of how protective the twins had gotten bounced through his processor. "But I really just don't know what to do." Bumblebee sighed through his vents and glanced up at his superior.

"I love Ratchet and Wheeljack, but our relationship is open. I do like the twins and I want them to be there for their sparkling, but I don't want to break their sparks if they try to come between Ratchet, Wheeljack and I. I'm really fond of you, Sir and I respect you a great amount and those feelings could probably become more, but I don't know what to do."

His voice started to raise in pitch as he became more stressed. "I may be able to have multiple bond-mates, being a carrier, but I don't think I could handle five mechs!"

"Bond-mates?" Kneeling in front of the seated minibot, Jazz smiled brightly. "Ya'd really take some mech like me as ya bond-mate, 'Bee? Ah ain't perfect, ya know? Ah've done some bad things in mah time..." Noticing the depressed tone his superior was using, Bumblebee leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the larger mech, softly kissing him.

"I don't know what I want just yet, with so much stuff going on at once. Besides that, no bot is perfect Jazz." Smiling as he leaned back, the minibot giggled at the saboteur's grin. "And I wouldn't want somebot who was perfect. I wouldn't feel like much whenever I was around them and I don't like feeling like that."

Jazz nodded his helm and stood up, glancing down at the datapad that was still clenched in his servo. "Ah guess Ah better finish fillin' this out, huh?" Chuckling sadly as he input the last of the required data, he handed the pad over to Bumblebee.

"Jus' put down in tha last box that ya understand that ya won't be required to fight should tha Decepticons attack." Nodding, the minibot did as requested and handed the pad back. "Then ya free ta go 'Bee. And don't worry too much abou' what I said, jus' try an' relax, okay?"

Bumblebee pouted. "I wasn't going to worry about it." As he started to leave the room, the minibot glanced back with a beautiful smile on his faceplates. "But I am going to consider it, Sir." Gawking, Jazz barely noticed as the door closed behind the little yellow bot.

(Scene Change)

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were busy helping Ratchet remove things from the safe room, snickering every time the medbot stopped to look through a box and mutter about what was inside. "That's where this stupid thing went... I thought Wheeljack snatched this one... PIPE-SUCKING, AFT-HEADED FRAGGERS!" Both twins jumped away from the medic, their battle system prepared to engage.

"I spent three orns looking for this stupid scanner, three orns! And it was in this box down here this whole time? I'm gonna slaggin' kill First Aid, I swear! I even sat there and rebuilt the stupid fraggin'..." As he started mumbling and shaking his helm, the twins couldn't help themselves, they started snickering again.

"What?" Shrugging, Sideswipe turned away, poking his brother in the stomach plates as he did so. "Why did I let them put all this slag in storage anyways?"

The room was quiet except for the sound of boxes being shifted and lifted as the three mechs placed them on the lift that would go upwards into Ratchet's office. But Sideswipe had never been good with long silences and he had something he wanted to ask Ratchet anyways.

"Why do you hate us?" The medbot whipped around to face the twins as they stood side by side in front of him. "I mean, we didn't intend for a sparkling, nonetheless two, to come about from our night with 'Bee, but we're certainly not unhappy about it. We're going to make sure we're the best creators ever and we'll take real good care of 'Bee so-"

"I don't want you to take care of him." The medic's optics narrowed. "And I don't hate you. I'm just disappointed. In myself mostly, because I wanted to be the creator of Bumblebee's sparkling." The frontliner's stared in amazement at the medbot.

"I met Bumblebee just shortly after he joined the Ark, during his first mandatory medical exam..."

-Flashback-

Ratchet sighed as an ache started creeping over his frame. It was getting harder and harder for him to get up for the start of his shift every joor, simply because he felt useless. Joor after joor he'd be meeting new mechs, who would soon be on the berths in his medbay, and some of them wouldn't leave alive.

He'd have to watch the light fade from their optics, feel their spark stutter to a stop, and the energon never seemed to wash off. He could scrub his servo's for cycles and he would still see the pink fluid staining the red metal. He hated it.

Then a bright yellow minibot caught his optics. He was standing in a line of new recruits, the happy smile on his face a complete change from the normally apprehensive looks that Ratchet was used too. The minibot was cute too, with a slender frame and gorgeous faceplates.

He smiled up happily at the medbot when it was his turn and practically skipped into the exam room, waving at the mechs gathered in the waiting room behind him. Scrambling up onto the berth, which was made for larger frame types, the minibot glanced behind him to smile happily at Ratchet.

"Sorry about Gears and Huffer, they always complain." Snickering quietly at the surprised look on the medbot's face, the little yellow bot held out one of his servo's. "I know my designation is on my chart, but I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Bumblebee, it's nice to meet you sir!"

Ratchet had only grunted out a reply to the minibot, knowing that it was better to not get attached, and the exam continued as per the norm. Until he asked the minibot to open his chestplates. There was no argument, but when that light flooded the exam room, Ratchet felt his stabilizer's go weak.

Sitting in front of him was the most beautiful spark he had ever seen. An untarnished, pure white orb sat in the minibot's chestplates and, for the first time in a very long time, the medic felt at peace. He lifted a servo and lightly ran his digits over the orb, a look of wonder on his faceplates.

Bumblebee sighed happily at the contact, unused to his spark receiving any attention, having not shown it to many bots. Then he smiled warmly at the medic, the innocent trust in his optics making an unfamiliar emotion take root in Ratchet's spark.

He had fallen in love with this adorable bot and it hadn't taken more than a glance at that gorgeous spark.

-End Flashback-

Having left out some parts, Ratchet quickly finished his explanation. "I know that a spark is a direct representation of who a bot is and what they have experienced. Bumblebee has the purest spark I've ever seen and I loved him from the moment I laid optics on that orb.

"I loved him then as a friend, but it's grown into something much more serious over the vorns. Wheeljack saw Bumblebee's spark only a few stellar cycles after that, when he joined in on a 'private session' 'Bee and I were having." Grinning at the sneers the twins shot him, Ratchet thought about elaborating, but he didn't want to give the front liner's any ideas.

"The three of us agreed to wait until the war was over before making our relationship permanent, as bond-mates." The golden mech and his brother were both gawking now, not understanding how two bots could be attached enough to want to be bond-mates, let alone three.

"So I don't hate you, honestly, I don't." He straightened then, the familiar scowl on his faceplates, startling the front liner's. "But Wheeljack and I will be taking care of Bumblebee, not you. And there will be no discussion on that."

They stared at each other for several astroseconds, the twins weighing their options and Ratchet waiting for them to start something. Then they all turned back to the now smaller stacks of boxes and continued loading the lift.

"Should've told First Aid that he had to help with this... Ungrateful fragger, boxing this stuff up in such a haphazard way... What's this thing?" He pulled a circular object from the box, staring at it with narrowed optics. The twins, intrigued by the question, turned to see what the medic was looking at, and Sideswipe recognized it just as Ratchet pressed the button in the center.

"No wait-" There was a soft clicking sound before a stream of blue paint came out of the object and shot Ratchet in the faceplates. He stumbled back, spitting out what had managed to get into his mouth and shaking his helm. He noticed the twins running towards the lift and he turned to face them, absolute rage on his faceplates.

"TWINS!"